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Suddenly she appeared in the midst of the space port, knocking a crate of space bananas from someone's arms.

Alone, afraid, confused. Blonde, busty and completely naked.


What...where am I?

Mirri
USA - Sunday, June 09, 2002 at 22:44:28 (MDT)


He turned to look as his name was called and was suddenly knocked unconscious as he was hit by a random falling crate of space bananas

Mr. Phule
USA - Saturday, July 28, 2001 at 19:23:28 (MDT)


A neatly dressed, but somehow, still untidy looking man suddenly calls across the room.

"Mr. Phule! You need my help..."

Thurrz <wal05@florahill.vic.edu.au>
, USA - Monday, July 23, 2001 at 05:43:09 (MDT)


{Sighs in boredom as he waves member after member of the crew through and onto the ship. Suddenly something catches his eye. A Glint of a familiar hair color beneath the lights, a droid he remembers quite well. With a bright smile on his face he hurriedly waves through the rest of the "members" between he and the raven haired beauty}

Delilah! It's been so long! What are you doing here?

Nicholas
USA - Tuesday, August 15, 2000 at 19:08:10 (MDT


*Takes a deep breath in preparation as she listens to the door slide closed behind her and Alphabet. She walks with as much confidence as she can down the "docks". Which ship? this question was more important than most people thought. It was the difference between freedom and slavery, life or death, and whether or not Alphabet was used for scrap metal or not. All this she knew and the descision was up to her...She scans all the possibilities mentally widdling down the choices one by one. She finally decides upon a vessel.

Delilah ushers the three of them towards the gate leading to the ship she has chosen. It's sides are badly dented and rust covers the entire hull but it looks flight worthy enough. She hasn't noticed any hostile species boarding which is another plus. The crew she has seen looks rather scarce which means job possiblities as well. With another deep breath she rushes onboard making it look as casual as possible. She files along with the rest of the crew down a long tight corridor and breathes a sigh of relief.*

"I think we're going to make it!" She whispers urgently to Alphabet until she spies to rather large guards standing next to a desk. "Oh no...."

*She knows what this means. With no way to turn around and head out and no way to get around it she must pass this desk along with her droid while carrying the small creature in her bag. Boarding filter stations. They were designed to keep people like herself off ships, to prevent them from boarding at all. She strains to see the person at the desk, hoping this person will look like a forgiving or even gullible person but the guards block the way. Slowly the line moves forward and her nervousness grows with each step*

Delilah
USA - Sunday, August 06, 2000 at 23:49:15 (MDT


*she watches the little critter the whole time, and follows behind Delilah as they walk away, the sparkles of her hair leaving a trail behind her. The sparkles soon disappear as she follows Delilah close behind*

Alphabet <alphabetzi@hotmail.com>
USA - Wednesday, August 02, 2000 at 09:00:11 (MDT


WolfRage <Knightsoftherose@hotmail.com>
USA - Thursday, July 27, 2000 at 21:16:05 (MDT


*Without looking over her shoulder to see if the droid is following she adjusts the strap of her bag, smiling still at the small addition to the group. She heads out the sliding doors to the "docks". Her icy blue eyes scan around for any chance to slide onto a ship whether she is invited or she must stow away.She'd slept in cargo deacks before, more than she thought was apprpriate but that was how life was.*

Delilah
USA - Thursday, July 27, 2000 at 21:10:07 (MDT


*Retupmoca notes the invitation and slithers from Delilahs arm into the saftey of her dark bag* "Adonai" it whispers to itself *before small feet kick around the contents of her bag, making itself more comfortable in amongst Delilahs hodgepodge of things, it peeks it's head out and closes it's eyes, chin resting on the bags edge and appears to be settling down for sleep*

Retupmoca
, USA - Wednesday, July 26, 2000 at 11:17:02 (MDT


*Giggles brightly, completely forgetting for a moment how much she wants to find a way onto a ship. She strokes the little creature and feeds it a little more*

You can stow away in my bag if you want *whispers* Us outlaws gotta stick together huh?

*stands and grins slyly to Alphabet* Let's get out of here. I think I saw a ship docked outside without heavy guard

Delilah
USA - Tuesday, July 25, 2000 at 19:58:48 (MDT


*it chitters softly at Delilah, eyes rolling back into it's head*, Whirrrrrr CLICK *it's eyes roll again and are now as silver as ballbearings* Hungry little fella? *it mimics back Delilahs voice perfectly before scrambling towards the food packet* Whirrrr CLICK *it's eyes roll back into it's head, it blinks twice, slowly it's eyes reverting to normal, it throws itself forward and coils itself firmly around Delilahs wrist and trys to blend to her skin colour before ripping into the foodpacket, chewing it down with great gusto as though it were the tastiest meal it's ever eaten , it swallows and utters one word* Adonai

Retupmoca
, USA - Tuesday, July 25, 2000 at 07:56:53 (MDT


*Glances back towards the creature who now sits on its back legs and can't help but laugh*

It IS rather cute isn't it...

*Kneels down and pulls a food packet from her pocket and holds it towards the little thing*

Hungry little fella?

Delilah
USA - Saturday, July 22, 2000 at 22:25:23 (MDT


*it peers at Alphabet with interest, blinking slowly before it's small mouth curves into a smile of sorts before it sits up on it's back feet*

Retupmoca
, USA - Friday, July 21, 2000 at 11:54:48 (MDT


**steps in behind Delilah and looks at the little amber hued creature and smiles. She walks behind Delilah and looks around, her hair, which is made of nothing but silver glitter, showers sparkles onto Delilah. The sparkles disappear within moments**
No one needs to call the exterminator...It is simply a multi-legged harmless creature with no intent to barge in on yourself.
**looks at Retupmoca and smiles** Isn't that right?
**smiles and looks at Delilah, then to the man they approached. Alphabet quirks a sparkled brow at him, but smiles her best andriod smile, still standsing behind Delilah's shoulder**

Alphabet <Alphabetzi@hotmail.com>
USA - Wednesday, June 28, 2000 at 22:01:41 (MDT


**Nearly trips as she avoids stepping on the creature running out the door**

Ack! What a horrid little thing. Someone really should call an exterminator!

**She assumes a comfortable posistion and surveys her new surroundings. She shakes her head, reminding herself all the while that she will soon be leaving this cramped little place. Soon, she would be legitimate space traveler.

She tosses her blue-black hair over her shoulder and taps her foot, somewhat impatiently. Not enough going on...**

Suppose I'll have to take matters into my own hands....as usual.

**She spies a man dressed in what appears to be a uniform. Uniforms mean crews and crews mean ships. That means a way out of here. She plasters on her best smile and walks towards him**

Delilah <witchblade70@hotmail.com>
USA - Tuesday, June 27, 2000 at 22:56:37 (MDT


The creature blinks and scuttles down Willard, scuttling for the nearest door and slips out of sight.

Retupmoca
, USA - Saturday, April 15, 2000 at 08:47:09 (MDT


*A small amber hued creature lands heavily on Willard Phules shoulder*, "Nagreee" it chitters softly as it's skin shimmers and it's now blue tail winds around his throat for balance and it's small hooked feet try to find purchase on his clothing* "nahgreee alekshhh ngrise" ? *it chatters to the back of Willards head quietly as though waiting for an answer to a question*

Retupmoca
, USA - Tuesday, February 22, 2000 at 06:50:13 (MST


*smiles as he takes the necessary paperwork from his briefcase*

I will, of course, have to make some arrangements afterwards, but if you'll read the standard service contract here....and tell me what needs changed, I believe this should do the trick.

*He hands the forms over, as he pages Beeker on his Wristcom *

Beek, if you could, tell Sgt. Escrima to meet me in the lounge, please. I have a new civilian liason I'd like him to meet.

*grins to himself slightly as he waits for the small, yet skilled Phillipino*

Willard Phule
, USA - Monday, February 07, 2000 at 10:14:21 (MST


( ooc Sorry for the Delay on the messages and all.. been kinda out of it )

*He raises his head and smiles.*

General contractor, it sounds like a rather... well entitled job.
So if you would direct me to this Sgt, then I would like to speak with him, to better understand what he has in mind for me.

Culvin Steel
, USA - Monday, February 07, 2000 at 07:29:23 (MST


*The hurried manservant enters, flustered from what appears to be too much physical exercion for a man of his build*

Sir, Lt Rembrandt and Supergnat would request your presence in the crew quarters. It would seem there's a bit of a problem. The synthians seem to be having trouble with the artificial gravity. Louie refuses to leave his bunk, and Spartacus is trying to use his hoverboard with this artificial gravity. Perhaps you should make an appearance, sir.

Beeker
, USA - Tuesday, February 01, 2000 at 07:48:27 (MST


* reaches across the small table, and extends his hand in friendship. After shaking hands, he reclines back into his chair...his black velvet Space Legion dress uniform inspection crisp against the blue fabric*

Well..there are certain channels one must go through to join the Space Legion, I'm afraid. And, we're being reassigned. The possibilities of enlisting you, processing the paperwork, let alone arranging for the necessary physical examinations...it would be nearly impossible, I'm afraid.

* He scratches his chin while he thinks for a moment*

Unless of course you'd be interested in a position as a general contractor.....I think Sgt. Escrima could use a civilian liason to indigenous marketing.........would you be interested in something like that?

Willard Phule
USA - Saturday, January 29, 2000 at 18:10:01 (MST


Met, no we havn't. My name is Culvin Steel, I no longer desire to be called by my former rank.

he glances down at the portable and grins for a moment.

I suppose that's another way of dealing with things. However it appears you and I differ on bypassing.. uhh.. certain things.

He pulls the black case around to the front of his body and pats the top of it, while smiling in a someone evil grin.

Can you help me, possibly. However the only thing I desire is to ... well.. make use of my talents. So if you are in need, then help me you can.

He looks from side to side, peering around himself. Then he lays the black case flat on the ground. He presses a few buttons on the side and then a noise of unsealed air is heard. He opens up the case, showing an assortment of parts, of what appear to be a disasembled large caliber rifle. He looks up and again smiles evily.

Meet excaliber...

He then quickly closes the case and brings it again to his side

Culvin Steel
, USA - Friday, January 28, 2000 at 17:10:51 (MST


*He quickly looks up from his Univax 3000 (one of the most powerful portables in known existence...the price of which rivals that of many small corporations, in fact, it's normal use is the acquiring of said corporations) and smiles at the man before him*

That'll be all, Beek...see that the unit is berthed, and their gear is stowed. OH, and Beek, tell the Cadre I'll see them in my quarters at 18:30 hours.

Good afternoon, sir. I don't believe we've been introduced. My name is Captain Jester...However, I believe you might be more familiar with my proper name...Willard Phule. Yes, I am the heir of Phule Proof Munitions, but let's just keep that our little secret. I appreciate your interest in my...difficulties...but, I assure you, it's just a matter of paperwork.

* He types in a series of numbers in a bank transfer program...a number containing an obscene amount of zeros, and the indicator goes green*

There...that seems to solve the problem. Now, may I be of assistance to you in some capacity...seeing how I now own this ship.

*He grins a silly grin as he reclines back into his seat*

Willard Phule
, USA - Friday, January 28, 2000 at 08:40:01 (MST


He smirks at the scene before him, as he looks on at the man servant. He thinks for a moment and then pushes off from the wall he leans against with his arms crossed and approaches Willard

It seems you are having.. uuh... problems with relocating some of your objects without raising problems.

Culvin is a tall man wearing a long black coat over some sort of what appears to be metallic clothing. He carries a long black case by his side like a suit case. As well, he wears dark glasses to hide his eyes. He speaks again to Willard after a mometnary pause.

I jusy may know a man to be somewhat... of a problem solver for you then.



Culvin Steel
, USA - Friday, January 28, 2000 at 01:07:59 (MST


I'm here, sir. It would seem that the customs agents at the gate have a little....problem...regarding your baggage, sir. They tend to frown on automatic weapons being put in carryon baggage. I believe he mentioned something about " explosive decompression ". Perhaps you should have a word with him, sir.

Beeker the Manservant
, USA - Thursday, January 27, 2000 at 08:30:57 (MST


* surveys the ship around him, calculating how much this "boat" would cost, and if that would be an effective way to speed up the departure*

Beek? Beeker? Where are you, man?

Willard Phule
, USA - Wednesday, January 26, 2000 at 08:14:09 (MST