Raiha

[quote name='maladjusted][color=firebrick]There is one HUGE THING that's stop me from voting for Bush [if I could'], and that's the economy. I don't know about anyone else but my dad just started up a grocery store and it's going badly. My family is going through tough times and even some of friends are having serious money issues, which is saying a lot since I live in an area filled with rich people. And then you can add that millions of more people are also going through this. I don't get it. The economy is going down and George Bush is spending more and more money on Iraq...he have a giant debt and he's still rising in the polls. It just angers me sometimes.[/color][/quote][COLOR=MediumTurquoise]You can't blame the crap economy on Bush. That Dot Com bubble was entirely out of control when Bill Clinton was in power, and it was going to explode regardless of who was elected next. Bush did not have any sort of option available when everything began to slide downhill. Every president had a major focus. Bush's happens to be foreign policy. This could, in theory, be blamed on JFK who said quite blithely that the only famous presidents were active in foreign policy. I'm sorry you're having economic troubles, but it's kind of naive to think that when Kerrry is elected, they'll all just...go away...[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]Once again, I feel unutterably ignorant. But never fear, that feeling will remain. I suppose, if Carradine is hotter in this one than in Kill Bill, I could drive out to see it at my friend's house. He works at mentioned Hollywood Video, so his rentals are mostly free. .....death race. Sounds like something that'd have Trent Reznor music in it, bad haircuts, and big trucks.[/COLOR]

[QUOTE=Lynn Luck][COLOR=Teal]Hey,don't underesitamate me just because I'm 12! I know what the hell I'm talking about.Besides,my parents don't even tell me about that stuff! I wacth the news by my own free will thank you very much. That, and I'm on the Honor Role AND I was a finalist in a science esay contest. That's proof enough that I'm smart enough to know this stuff. Besides, I'm not excatly hearing how old YOU are. So that might mean you're only about a few years older then me. Think about what you say next time. You might have your tongue cut off if you don't. *smirks*[/COLOR] [COLOR=Red]P.S.[/COLOR] [COLOR=Red]The smilies have nothing to do with this damnit![/COLOR][/QUOTE][COLOR=MediumTurquoise]Being on Honor role is nothing but an ability to process busywork given by teachers. I know. I was a 4.17 GPA in high school. Being an Honor roll student in junior high/middle school means jack. Science also, has very little to do with politics, so I don't see a point in bringing that up either. For being a smart kid, you'd think you'd know what spell check is too. Watching the news will get you nowhere fast. You think the media is going to tell us the truth? Incase it slipped your mind, the media, everything we see and hear is owned and processed by 6 major companies, one of which is owned entirely by a foreigner who has no problem with directing exactly what is printed. [URL=http://www.zmag.org/zmag/articles/solomonjune2000.htm]The Big Six[/URL] If you want to hear how old someone is, look up their birthday. It's there you know. But since it's a problem apparently, I'm 18. I'm a college student. I've passed the Advanced Placement History tests given by the College Board of America. I have a rough idea of how the political system works and how it'll continue working. My point is, before you spout off how smart you are, think about how it's looking to the rest of us. People can blame all of our problems on Bush and say that Kerry is our only hope, but to me, that's horribly naive. Not only are both candidates for presidency bought out entirely by the corporations that funded their campaigns, whoever is elected will be owing that corporation some serious favors. i.e. passing some protection laws on the environment, turning a blind eye to illicit business practices, letting scandals spiral out of control [Enron]. If you think Kerry is going to clean up the problems we have, pardon me while I have a swift chortle into the palm of my hand. You can't say "I'll vote for Kerry cause he'll clean up the environment," or, "He'll clean up this mess in Iraq," because it's quite plain that one can't devote all their energies into one thing and expect the rest to fall in line. Any elected official should have an all encompassing plan that will at least bring in some results. None of this "let's just focus here," business. It won't go anywhere fast. Now I could be cynical and myself now and say that "One bureaucrat is as bad as the next," and you know... I'd be right. But honestly, I can't help but vote my conscience. I'd rather vote for Bush than a wishy-washy man that is ugly to boot. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]The gel drained, and, as if she had done nothing more than have a restful night's sleep, Avlen walked straight out of her pod. Then, cooly, calmly, she stripped off the skin tight bra and shorts that had done nothing but absorb the gel like a sponge and head for the nearby showers. With vigorous movements, she scrubbed her body clean, desperate to remove the last traces of gunk and slime from her now, much paler skin. She rubbed her hair with energetic movements, then shook herself dry and yanked a towel off the rack. Wrapping it around her hips, she stepped out into the main room and watched others wake up. Not exciting. She had to get dressed. Debreifing.[/i] "...ugh." [i]She stepped out into the hall. It was smaller than she remembered, but then again, she had spent quite awhile hibernating in the cool recesses of her mother's womb...? No. A stasis pod. Cold and mechanical. Avlen sighed and entered her quarters. They were exactly as she remembered them. She smiled and opened the closet doors, averting her eyes from the mirrors. Thick dark pants, a skin tight blouse, covere that with a loser fitting shirt, lace up the boots, brush back the hair for once, dump the towel in the baskets.[/i] "...how pretty. I hope those SEALs are as boring as they look." [i]Avlen smiled and slid both mirrors shut again and picked up her breifcase. Then, she slid into the hallway and headed slowly towards the breifing room. Her stomach wasn't complaining yet. And she didn't feel like anything but getting this experience started.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Seeing as how her presence was no longer required, Avlen closed her eyes, stepped back, and allowed the computer to fill her stasis pod. The liquid pooled at her feet and slowly rose up past her legs, to her hips, and then surged over her face...... The nausea and panic that would've normally followed this didn't come. Instead, Avlen was relaxed. Limp as a dishrag. Nothing could faze her. Instead, she was simply there. Staring into the darkness of her closed eyelids. Black. Cool. Comforting. Warm. So it wasn't space. Space was cold. Is cold. So very cold. And this, this is not cold. It's so warm and quiet. A little wave of thought breifly mentioned something to her. "Womb." Before birth. It was warm wasn't it? It was quiet. Gentle. A heartbeat instead. Lub. Dub. Memory, went away quickly. All of her memories came back. Were they really hers? Sure. Everyone started life the same. Even a little girl that called Avlen Avey. Avey. That's funny. She remembered Avey too. ....but then the warmth was too much, and all brain activity slowed down to a continuous stream of.....[/i][/COLOR]

[SIZE=1][COLOR=Purple]Annie has given me permission to butcher Ana. Kindly help me. While I also enroll in courses and take classes and wonder if they're applicable to my major. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ [i]Pandemonium would've ensued, but the Captain had the presence of mind to raise his voice and call everyone to order. At that point, Ana had shrunk back from the comatose form of Van and Avlenn had stepped forward. She leaned down over his body and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.[/i] "Gloria del Solei."* [i]She stood up and walked to the gel pods, standing to attention. Her smile was present, but her eyes betrayed a deep sorrow. Already, two had begun to fall. And she felt a deep underlying fear that she'd be next. Her steeled figure was only made that way by a quote that sprang unbidden to her mind. Fear knocked. Faith answered. No one was there.[/i] *To God be the glory.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Lace looked up from the baby at her breast and smiled.[/i] "Refreshingly honest wasn't he?" "....I think I'll follow him in a few moments. My scalp is tingling." [i]She laughed to herself and snipped off the last thread. Then she walked baclk to the tent, holding her tools in one hand and with the dress draped over her shoulders. With her toes she opened the chest of clothing and set it the fabric down. Then she locked everything and came back out into the dazzling sunlight. Lace smiled once more and held her baby gently.[/i] "Do you think he has potential?" "I think everyone has potential Lace." [i]Avlenn Arboreal followed the footsteps Falstaff had made, moving very quietly, slowly, pulling her spotless white tunic out of the way, and padding through the forest in bare feet alone. For some reason, she didn't feel a single bit of prickle or fuss from the loam and fern underfoot. Instead, she felt the breezes from the clearing and noticed the way the sun dappled a pattern of shadows on her clothing. Thinking these absolutely pleasing thoughts, she continued along the path, noticing Falstaff's complete lack of trail skills. Not only had he meandered willy nilly through several perfectly thick thickets, he had also completely ignored the path. While it wasn't a straight line, it was definetly noticeable. At least to Avlenn. Instead of seeing TREES and BUSHES, Avlenn saw underground springs, rushing through the forest. Her second sight meant that she avoided the weak points in the earth, but that also meant slogging mercilessly through the very noticeable footprints of Falstaff. Then, without further notice, she reached the clearing and saw both green dragon and a great deal of hummanity.[/i] "Big. . ...isn't it?" [i]The words came to her unbidden, flowing from her tongue like water splashed across a table top. But nobody heard them but her. The dragon was focused on the army and completely ignoring Falstaff, a preist, and the running form of Elanna. Soldiers seemed to be the key to distractions, but that didn't stop her from charging towards the school boy and the ...preist..... Avlenn paused. There was a great deal of water in the forest, but only a few trickles heading towards the dragon. If he was smart, he'd get away from the forest and rampage the humans, causing calamity and general chaos. But since the soldiers were smart, she figured, they'd drive the dragon into the forest and hope the wetness of the woods would spare it from fire.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]Name: Daisy "Day" Quiver Age: 18. Previous Experience: A fresh recruit, green like grass, wide eyed, a bit on the hyper side, but generally an excellent lure-ing person. Not to be confused with alluring. She likes water. Water is nice. But she also likes the little duck call whistle she picked up ages ago. It makes a sound like a duck. It hangs around her neck on a green cord. And she's never gone a day without puffing up her cheeks, inhaling a big lungful of good clean air, and exhaling into the little duck call, making a noise that usually sounds like a duck in heat. Sometimes it sounds like a dying rabbit. But enough of that. One time she played fetch with a labrador retreiver. She threw a stick, and it came back with a dead duck. She was so repulsed by the huge bullet wounds in the duck's chest, and so surprised that it's head was missing, that she threw the duck back and chased the labrador, just to see where he'd been fetching. She found several decapitated bullet ridden ducks lined up in a bed of rushes. Daisy remembers thinking: "That's odd. I thought ducks mated and had ducklings and stuff." Then she went back to playing fetch. The labrador retreiver, chocolate in color and soulful in temperment, decided that he had found his new best friend. And they've been together ever since. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Avlen sat patiently while Trini examined the gruesome looking lump on the back of her head. She was very thankful she had short hair.....otherwrise the inspection would've been a bit more difficult.[/i] "Well.....I was sitting in my office, when I stood to look in the mirror and saw my baby sister. She was reaching out for a hug, but she startled me so badly I feel backwards. Normally the door would've caught me, but I guess it was the floor's turn instead." ".....right." [i]Avlen squirmed uncomfortably. Not only was Trini capable of peering directly into her mind, she was also able to hear the falsehood in her voice. ...so. Trini had ears that heard.[/i] "Her hands had been dipped in fire. They were black, stained, irreversible damage. And I smelled Vexxon gas before I hit my head." "Vexxon gas. That's extremely odd. There's no Vexxon on board." "That we know of." [i]The Communications specialist turned her head and looked at Trini carefully. She smiled pleasantly into Trini's face and the two had a quick moment of understanding. Then she turned and hunched her shoulders over a bit.[/i] "Why your baby sister?" "I was her legal guardian until she died of cystic fibrosis. She used to call me Avey." Nostalgia swept over Avlen's features, but she swept it back where it came from. "Did you love her a lot?" "Bunches." [i]Trini and Avlen sighed at the same time, then caught themselves and laughed. Avlen stood to her feet and put an hand to Trini's ribs, barely touching them.[/i] "How bad is it?" "Breathing is...harder. But not impossible. Your head probably is in the same shape as mine." "Oh horror." "WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!" [i]Silence...then uproarious laughter.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=Purple][SIZE=1][FONT=Palatino Linotype]Pacific Imaging: May 2003 I am 17. I started my finals for my junior year and am surviving the horror of high school life, destructive relationships with boyfriends that turn into rapists, and otherwise braved the perils of it all when I remember that I have had a lump in my right breast since I hit puberty. I ignored it, then I decided to see a doctor on impulse. My doctor sends me to the aforementioned X-ray radiation therapy place to get a ultrasound and mammogram. I'm 17. I don't want a mammogram. Mammograms are for women 40 and over. I don't want an ultrasound. Ultrasounds are for pregnant women and weirdoes. I don't want to hear that the lump is growing, vascular, and admit that it's been secreting a yellow liquid for years. But I especially don't want to learn that I have one year left before it goes malignant and takes over my body. The mammogram was one slow pain-fest. The pain was dull, achy, it just dragged on. The nurse said to me while tightening up the plastic plates that were squishing my chest: "Tell me when it hurts." She smiles blithely. "Now," I manage to squeak. "Okay." She tightens it a few more turns and then says, "Don't breathe." Click. WHRRRRRRRR. Click. "You can breathe now." I exhale and whimper to myself. This is a nightmare. This isn't happening. I can't have breast cancer. I'm 17. I don't want to die. My grandma had it and she didn't die. What if it comes back and she dies? What If my mom gets it and she dies? What if I die? What if I die? Outpatient Clinic, Washington Memorial Hospital. First day of Summer Break. 2003. "Hi D'Ann. Ready to get cut open?" A tall, good looking black man leans down and smiles at me. I look at him through a haze of tears. Mostly tears of fear and denial. "....do you get paid to be annoying?" He grins and squeezes my arm to find a vein. "Yep. Do you like needles?" I stare at the ceiling. I hate my life. Poke. ...prod.... Poke. "OW!" I look down. Something is sticking in my hand. Something is sticking in my hand. A needle. TWO NEEDLES?!? I go into conniptions. "Okay, now that we've got that taken care of, we'll get you some Valium." He walks off. "You're going to dope me up. Wait. Dope? Drugs? ....is this legal?" It's amazing. I've finally gotten some good news. They're going to make me a happy Raiha. Ecstatic even. Nah, that's stretching it. He comes back. "I'm sorry, we seem to be out of Valium. We've got some knock off stuff right here for you that'll do the same thing." I don't even acknowledge this.....then I crack and say: "Will it hurt?" My eyes get big. I am a lump. A gibbering idiot. A wuss. "Oh yes, terribly." I utter a moan, then feel, to my great surprise, exquisitely happy. He lied. I didn't feel a damn thing. And then, for some reason, there's this purple haze collecting around my vision. I look up. My anesthesiologist looks very much like Jimi Hendrix. I sing the song. He shakes his head. Or is that his head? It's hard to tell. I see an afro. Or a guitar. They wheel me down the hall, then they move me magically onto something flat with bright lights. I see that I'm in a crucifixion position and they're ...strapping me down maybe? It's hard to tell, every thing's purple and really really bright. "Is this legal? Are you going to crucify me?" I hear some laughter. Or is it simply a roar of applause? Hard to tell. Someone's prodding my face. Or is it my boob? I can't tell. But I am sooooooo happy. "Oh yes, it'll be horrible." There's a bunch of pretty white people, and Jimi Hendrix too. That didn't make any sense. "...Am I talking too much? Just slap me." I feel so happy it isn't right. "Oh we can't slap you, we'd get fired." One pretty white face seems to be having a great time. "So you want to slap me?" I feel very comfortable. Like I'm about to sleep. Sleep. That'd be nice. "Great honey, what'd you give her?" I probably gave them all a blank look. But then, they probably weren't looking at me. Were they? "Hey Raiha, how are you doing?" Something tall and fuzzy has just walked into the room. In retrospect, I think it was my boob specialist. ".....huh?" ....BLACK. I wake up. I wish I didn't. My breast aches. I don't' move. A nurse walks over and gives me some pills. I meekly swallow them then meekly throw up. Oh yes, that's right. I don't have anything to throw up. Somehow, magically, I make it into the recovery room. I have no idea what I'm doing here. I should be asleep. And nothing should be hurting this bad. What is it with these people? I'm 17. I'm not in the mood for this stupidity. I go home, I move on, I don't touch my aching chest, or those painkillers they keep shoving at me. Then my boob specialist [the tall fuzzy thing] takes off the bandages and I see 12 titanium staples lodged in my right nipple. So much for my perky pretty little size 32As. They're massacred. Broken. Screwed up. So much for nursing a child. That's out the window too. With all these pleasant thoughts running through my head, a shy and competent nurse plucks them out one by one. I bleed. I say...I feel faint. Then I remember fainting is too white for words. Then I save them in a little baggie and go about my business of having fun. The Darvocet is still in a pill box in the medicine cabinet and has probably lost its potency. I never took any of them. .....what's the moral of the story? Don't do drugs.[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]She laughed softly, reading the stack of papers that had long since been forgotten. Then she rose to her feet and noted that the pants she was wearing were heavy, thick, clasped along the sides, nice and comfortable......fit smoothly around the hips... And then she looked in the mirror. A little girl, her hands horribly blackened by fire, reached out to give Avlen a hug.[/i] "Avey!" [i]Avlen screamed at the sight of her baby sister, calling her by her nickname, and tumbled backwards onto the floor. Her back would have crashed against her office door, but it opened immediately, thus, resulting in her splatted flat down on her back in the middle of the hallway. She looked up and the bright lights assailed her vision. She screwed them shut and threw one hand over her eyes. A starburst of light exploded in her brain, and not from her concussion. She also felt, for one fleeting second, the disgusting taste of overripe apricots and bleach.[/i] "...too bright." [i]Trini was just rounding the corner when she noticed something on the floor. Something that sounded like it was yammering. She cautiously proceeded and found Avlen Arboreal flat on her back, looking at the ceiling as if counting sheets of metal.[/i] "Avlen?" "Hi Trini. Don't mind me. Just enjoying the view."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]So many people had gone up the hill that Lace and Avlen had decided to do nothing more than sew a bit and sit under the trees. Lace was planning on doing more of the sitting actually, but the concept remained. She opened the case of clothing and brought out her mother's wedding dress. The ivory was beautiful, the collar and sleeves unfrayed, but the hem was in disarray. What a shame. Avlen had just settled down and begun her repairs on the gown when she saw a young man with a canteen dangling from his pack. He appeared to be calm and alert, which was odd considering he had the clothing of a student. That, translating in her brain to mean he was also an alcoholic. But for now, he looked quite fresh and restored. How odd. He saw her sitting underneath a maple tree and and walked a bit closer. She smiled up at him, sunlight shivering down her long hair, giving her the air of an angel.[/i] "May I help you sir?" "Don't call me sir. Just Falstaff." "Falstaff then. How many I help you?" [i]He considered the question for a breif moment, then sat down next to her, peering at the hem she was setting. The bright needle in her hand flashed in the sun while her fingers deftly held the thread to the slippery satin. Several flashes later, she came to the end of the threads and twirled them around the point of the needle, pressed it down against the fabric, set her nail on the threads and slid everything through. She clipped the knot with a tiny pair of scissors and shook the folds of fabric.[/i] "Well?" "What's your name?" "Avlenn Arboreal."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise]So there I was, with a broken collar bone, sitting in the waiting room and watching bad sitcoms. It'd been an hour since my dad drove me to the hospital and I was bored. And in pain. And kind of in a sort of fog. When they asked me how the pain was on a scale of 1-10 I said: "....gah?" Anyway they had me wait in a room that involved a box of needles [sitting right next to me] and a Defibrillator [also sitting right next to me]. Then I heard the wailing and retching of the children in the next room and started bawling like a baby. ....two hours pass. A man and a nurse come in. The man sits on the bed next to me while the nurse [male] sews up his hand, which was diced with a box cutter. The nurse gives him a speech about how important family and education is. Then the man with the diced hand calmly informs him that he's the father of two girls, has a beautiful wife, and works as an engineer. In the third hour I was asked if I was pregnant, if my father was my husband, and if I was on the Pill. Let us all remember that I am, at this point, 15. Repeat this scenario, only in the x-ray room. With a much younger technician. A much hotter technician. He tells me to lie flat on my back. I said: "Haha, you're not funny." He made me do it anyway. I felt something shift in my shoulder. Clavicle didn't like it. I didn't either. Then, he took a few shots, I sat around, and cursed him in all foreign tongues. Next I waited. In the fifth hour the doctor came back and said there was not much he could do besides brace it and write me a perscription for Vicoden. I snatched the paper and fled. ....mostly because they had already tried to give me some with stale crackers and nasty milk. ....and my stomach had revolted, empty though it was. I spent the rest of the evening heavily drugged, wishing for a gun, and wondering what the hell it was with me, rollerblading, and my dog that had resulted in my current situation. .....I concluded that I needed to spend more time in front of the computer instead of outside. And I also reasoned that if I had been horribly bleeding as well as sporting a broken collar bone, I would have been treated much faster.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]She heard the crowds charging up the hill, shrieking like banshees. Dragon this. Dragon that. Dragons kwuffwafh. Avlenn Arboreal rose to her feet, having spent the night in the women's tent after leaving....Caden. That was his name. It came back to her quickly. The women of the tent had left for the most part, one or two remaining to nurse babies. She smiled and sat down again, picking her brush up from the leather satchel with her belongings. Running it through her hair, her eyes fell on the tunic she had worn yesterday. It stank of firesmoke, but then again, who cares?[/i] "We all smell like it anyway." "Very true Camellia's daughter, very true." "Morning Lace. How's the baby girl?" "Hungry." [i]The two laughed together, such simple pleasure. She pulled her undedress over her head, tying up the bodice with nimble fingers, then reached out for the embroidered tunic and stood, the sound of fabric rushing over her ears like so much water. The caress of the material was extremely pleasant, and she was quite happy about life in general. She had helped someone in pain last night, the rest had been deep, and this was a brand new day. Of course; now there was a dragon somewhere...on a hill. She rolled her eyes and opened the tent flap. The bright sunlight dazzled her eyes and she closed them quickly. Then, she cautiously opened one eye and peered up the hill. Masses of people obscured her vision, and she didn't even bother. She'd go up after the smoke had cleared.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Avlen was leaning nonchalontly against the wall, as if she was used to the insanity. In reality she was rather annoyed at the proceedings. .....although it could be worse. She sensed the gap between the people from the original mission, and herself...and everyone else unaware. It was like a chasm. Hell, it was a chasm. She shook herself and put all her weight back on her feet. Then, with calm steps, she walked down the hall, headed for her console, and let the doors close behind her with a hiss. Then, at her desk, she taped down the required papers and turned to her screen.[/i] "Begin recording." [i]The click signified her computer's willingness to cooperate.[/i] "Day one. I saw a demon in the mirror before I left home. And it wasn't me, .....but it was familiar. Sam Tiller attacks Trini Angelos. .................. ....... ......end recording." [i]She sighed and rested her chin on her palms, elbows digging into the desktop.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]The entire announcement reverberated through Avlen's ears and she tore the earpiece out, furious with herself. A nap, and she had left it on. As a matter of fact, she had left it on in the shower. ...nice to know it was water proof. She jerked herself out of bed, naked to the waist. With a quick jump, she slid open the closet doors and pulled out her functional jeans, a shirt made of commando cloth, and boots that snapped down the sides and laced through. Then, with expert movements, she threaded the crystal earpiece into her ear and fiddled with the control, which was welded onto her earring..... ....moving the sound down to a more suitable micron level, she dragged a comb through her messy hair and prssed it into place. She had already placed her knife over the bed and she snatched it off its holding pins and slid it down against her calf.[/i] "Okay Trini....I knew Sam was going to go nuts. And we're not even off the ground yet." [i]She sighed and walked out the door, into the dimmed hallway. Once there she sighed and looked around. Then she set off at a lope for the medical bay. Once there, she braced herself and walked in. Trini was down for the count, but then again, so was Sam. Instead of Trini, she stalked quietly over to Sam's bed and looked down at him. His face looked gaunt, tortured even, and she heaved yet another sigh. ....Tragic.[/i] "Tragic." [i]Van was observing Trini with an extremely benign expression on his face.[/i] "How is she?" "Just fine. A little rattled, but stable." "....good then. What about Sam?" "We'll wait for the head shrinker."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Aveln's lip twitched, and she fought the urge to laugh. If there was something to be said for Trini, she was certainly persistent. She stepped out of the living room, toweling her head dry. With the free hand she shuffled through the files and pulled out several papers and handed them to Trini. Then she wrapped the towel around her waist and reached for the brush. Twenty strokes in Trini looked up.[/i] "It says you're a syntheste. Will that affect you at all?" "Seeing images and colors when I hear voices and noises from the ship and crew won't bother me. I'm used to it." "......I'll mark your paper." "Although, I beg you to not reveal that information, upon pain of death, to our local head shrinker." [i]Avlen was looking soulful, tragic even. Trini's grin was electrifying.[/i] "I promise I won't." "....Good." [/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]As people stood and shuffled and exited the meeting room, Avlen remained standing, watching Sam out of the corner of her eye. No letting him come up behind her thankyouverymuch. She picked up her breifcase, which had made it to the meeting, and walked out. At the door she turned and watched the Captain and the Doctor. They both appeared to be stricken. She sighed and was thankful her job didn't include morale boosting. Once in the hall, she followed the path to her conn, blissful almost at the promise of the shower as soon as she uploaded the information into the computer. She closed the doors behind her and sat down at the console. With a little personalizing, this might suit her well. She set down the recording device and slipped it into its slot at her right hand. Then she pulled the crystal earpiece back into place between her eardrum and earring. There was a click, a whir, and she heard the entire mission replayed. She stopped it at a certain point and replayed.[/i] "...was that the Gravity Drive, as Weir called it, tore a hole through our dimension and into another." [i]Avlen flicked an eyebrow. That didn't sound too unbelieveable. Weir's folders had been left out once. It was very possible. .....what a thought. She made sure the door was locked, then undressed and sat in her chair again. Clad in black bra and panties, she unhooked the lingerie in the front and looked down at her chest. A half moon scar over her right nipple and and another over her left. Then the etching of the cross over her heart. She sighed and felt the lines that had been slapped onto her skin. Razor blade nicks, rubbed with ash before they healed, creating a raised representation of the crucifix.[/i] "....Father of Lights, keep us from inwardddarkness. In the name of Chi-Rho, amen." [i]She stood and walked through the door that joined her working quarters to her living quarters. Hot shower.......quickly...quickly...[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Avlen turned off the recording device in her pocket. Apparently the lecture was done, since everyone was hovering between vapid curiosity and absolute sheer holy terror. That, and the claustrophobia Avlen had been ignoring for awhile came back full force. The silence in the room was cloying, and she could feel her skin start to crawl. ............. Like a lightbulb flicking on in her head, she stood to attention and spoke, her calm voice bringing a little life back into the room, clearing her head and relaxing her tensed muscles.[/i] "Our stuned silence must be very reassuring Captain." [i]Every head turned. That girl was speaking again.[/i] "However I believe that we'll be able to perform our duties with efficiency and demonstrate obedience." [i]Sam rolled his eyes. Like a spring, Avlen turned her head towards him, her eyes narrowing to half their size.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]She eyed the named so far, not angrily, simply watching. The people had baggage. But none perhaps, as much as Sam. He was unnerving. Had a look in his eyes that she detested. And she wouldn't even bother addressing him until emergency made it necesary. Ana Thomas. Intelligence. .....she liked her eye. .....and she liked her brevity. ....... .....but she didn't like the say she interracted with Sam. Weakness. Or something worse. If there was something worse though, she couldn't think of what it was. But her abruptness and her easy way of being annoyed wouldn't get her very far. Van Ambrose. He was something. ...something interesting. She had read all his files, noticed his age and appearance. But she found it impossible to think of him in any way other than doctor. Nothing more. ....and his assistant Trini had both been on the earlier mission. And it showed. Trini had been saved by the last Communications specialist. She wondered if anyone cared about how her position had been taken by a newcomer. .......an anti-social newcomer whose name nobody would remember. She liked Jako. And she couldn't figure out why. Maybe because while everyone around him resembled cast iron fences, he was something akin to marzipan. The head shrinker and that Charles figure...both made her skin crawl and her sanity depart. She'd rather make small talk with Sam than exchange words with either one of them. ...although, small talk with Sam had a certain.....adrenaline to it. Something she'd like. Captain Chubbs was someone she could easily respect. Easily go out on a limb for. He took charge, he didn't stand much nonsense, and he obviously knew what was what. ...she hoped he wouldn't notice her appreciation. And her lack of interest in socializing. Although, she sensed that on this mission, socializing would be about as nourishing as cardboard.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]There was an uncomfortable silence. Then every head turned when the odd sound of hissing came to their ears. Not hissing, but fabric sliding across bare legs. Avlen Arboreal was standing, her face fixed directly on her Captain's.[/i] "Avlen Arboreal. Communications Specialist." [i]She could hear a few people whisper something like, "An anti-social chick in charge of communicating?!" "Avlen Who?" The questioned kept her face impassive and sank back ino her chair. She knew it'd be a nasty blow for some of the people that assumed she didn't talk at all.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Rena's sensitive ears pricked, the sound of thousands of footfalls reached her ears. Instantly, she rose to her feet, her tail lashing like a scourge. Grim stood to attention.[/i] "What is it?" "The clones are finally on the move. I can hear them." "What do you hear exactly...?" "Packs of hyenas, clones I've trained and trained with. I can hear the prides travelling as a group. Everyone of the feline strain has been held back until now." "Maybe they'll be just like you...." "Hyena clones like to follow the bigger cats. Finish off anything, fan out, regroup. It'll drive the humans crazy." [i]Jedgar had never seen her so blindingly happy. As to why, he had no idea. People would die, creatures would fail. And her children, her students, underground, could have already died in the wait. But no, she was elated. Overjoyed. Flying to the moon. She roared aloud, and the call that followed shortly after was no echo. Crystal looked up.[/i][/color]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]Avlen muttered under her breath the thoughts that had resulted in her getting yelled at more than once...but it was worth it.[/i] "A tour. ...I hate tours." [i]If anyone noticed, nobody commented, and she, feeling like one of the common herd, trooped in, following the leader. So far she had been ignored like a piece of sheet metal on the underside of the ship. ...and you know what...she liked it that way. As soon as she entered, her nostrils were assailed by the scent of "NEW SHIP" smell. Clearly nobody had given a second thought to what might happen if they invested in an air freshener perhaps? Pina Colada? Fresh apricot? Marmalde? .....Marmalade. Avlen liked marmalade. Either way she realized she was next to by herself, standing in the middle of the abandoned entryway. She shrugged and followed the arrows on the ship directing her to the conn. Not that anyone would care if she was separated from the group. Ships intercoms worked well. At least she hoped they did. For something this expensive served up by USAF, it better be good. Avlen found what she was looking for and stowed her breifcase in the underseat comparment. Then, feeling like a hostess on an airplane, sat down and touched a pannel. Instantly, the lights turned on and everything came to life with a dull hum. Apparently, she was allowed access to the intercom. Oh the possibilities shifting to life in her head. She resisted the urge to press every button and see what happened.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]She didn't turn a hair, but incase anyone had noticed, and nobody had, she had witnessed the entire exchange. Avlen raised one eyebrow, and noted the experience in the fifteenth page she'd penned through with her Mont Blanc. Then, like a light being turned off in her head, she closed the leaves of paper in the plastic case, opened the breifcase and stored away pen and paper, and shut the whole thing and snapped it shut. Avlen Arboreal stood and smiled softly. The folds of her gown shuddered around her legs like rushing water and she felt the change rush through her blood vessels. The welcome oddity was certainly worth sitting on her behind while a crick in her back developed. She had noticed the exchanges between the Captain and the people that had been on previous missions. Based on their expressions, it was going to be a hell ride. And, if this Sam was any indication, they were all toast. She was thankful her extremely short hair, soon to be shaved off completely, and her oddities were enough to scare away the best of men. Not to mention it kept her life extremely unremarkable and uncomplicated. Ana was slightly bemused, until she heard the brush of fabric against bare leg. Like a sylph, Avlen had appeared next to her and was eyeing Sam.[/i] "...amazing, Your eyes are tortured." [i]He turned the aforementioned upon her and instantly felt himself locked in a battle of wills. Bright silver and purple flashed in his vision, but no, it was in all actuality the force of her own pupils staring right into his. He blinked several times, then muttered something and walked away. Ana turned to exclaim to Avlen, but she had turned and wass gazing up at the hulk of the ship that would take them to the stars. Beyond the stars. If she had read Weir's papers right. And she wasn't thrilled about it. His files had been classified as dangerous and such and such, but naturally she'd opened them all, downloaded every file, and ripped everything onto laser disks kept hidden in both mind and office. .......beyond the stars. The phrase was stuck in her head, and rounded through it like a liturgical chant. She found herself whispering the words.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=MediumTurquoise][i]While they waited, Avlen refused to remain idle and engage in small talk. The conversation with Trini had been murder on her psyche. She quietly dragged several large packing crates closer to the edge of the group and plunked down on top of one of them. She unsnapped the clasps on her breifcase and went to it with a will. Plastic files sprang open at her touch and the pen behind her ear flashed down onto paper, her copious notes filling several pages in lose leafs of paper. Anyone who approached to peek over her shoulder was instantly rebuffed by a language clearly not run-of-the-mill English, Spanish, or French even. This was obviously Latin. ....well, not obviously to most. Only a select few recognized the glyphs and only one out of everyone could read one or two words at most. And the letters he could understand were so common, .....giving up was a welcome escape. "...yes, I'm better off left to my own devices." Avlen, undisturbed, and unpertubed, continued writing at a fast pace, taking in her thoughts and feelings of the mission so far. Her evaluation of the people, her secret longings for a place more secluded, and her growing fear of the unknown. The conicidence at the mirror in her flat was bad enough. ".....good thing madness runs in my family, otherwise I'd be worried that I was hallucinating." That line was put down, along with her take on the Captain. He was interesting. Dark. Thoughtful. And there were a couple on the mission that were thoughtless. She couldn't see them surviving a minute in space, much less under stress of a mission. She hadn't cracked. She had high tailed it to the Hanger, despite bad directions and bad karma. Horrid karma.[/i][/COLOR]