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T h e - C a r i E l f - f a n c l u b
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#252
by Veteran MM77 - 6/18/2003 2:05:54 AM
*****************THE-C-FILES*******************
* CODE NAME CariElf *tm.
CHAPTER TWO : THE EXPLANATION
* Frogboy * Lets get out of this DUMP!
* Gerakken * Besides, I have motive to beat up said offender. He keeps mangling my name. But, on the other hand, MM77 also mangles every third word it seems, so what's the dif?) But, for great justice, no one gets near the Lady without permission, incredible internet teleportation tricks or not!
* Chistopher Packer * Yes, but do you notice how MM77's English can mysteriously improve every now and then??
Hmmm. I've got to write more hip and happenin'...
* Boogie Bac * Gee....I LIKE HIM!...He's got MOXIE!
* G.C. FORCEtm. * Boogie!!!!!!!!!
( Bobo still singing MICKEY'S MONKEY by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, Now making like a bannana and SPLITS........ Back to CariElf. )
* MM77 * PUFF..puff..ATLAST! Here my love have a seat in my car...puff...
( Tires screeching )
* MM77 * I'll play some music for you ( click )
( Frogboys here to save the day
What more is there what can I say
Whatch it JACK cus Boogies Bac
He's here to show us were its AT
And for ME I can not stay cus
G.C. FORCE is ON its WAY!
So listen to me LOVE I say
I HOPE for us a BRIGHTER DAY
If I could, Have a WISH in this WORLD
It would be for YOU, To be MY GIRL!
My time is SHORT, And I'm on the RUN!
BUT I FEEL TWO HEARTS THAT BEAT AS ONE!
I can't help....my....self
no no no no NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOO!
I can't help....my....self
Viscountess Goddess till the end of TIME. )
* MM77 * SHEESH! HOW SAPPY! WHAT A LOSSSER! IMAGINE falling apart for a girl like that is SAD!
* CariElf * SHUT UP! And turn the RADIO UP!
* MM77 * YES! MY LOVE!......
( After driving to the park down the street MM77 PULLS OVER! )
* MM77 * CariElf, my love. I must EXPLAIN......
* CariElf * UNTIE ME FIRST!
* MM77 * BUT! MY LOVE!...YOU would RUN AWAY!
* CariElf * TRUST ME, UNTIE ME FIRST.
( Things don't aways go as planned....TILL NEXT TIME!?...)
[Message Edited]
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#253
by Veteran MM77 - 6/18/2003 2:26:46 AM
D.J.MM77 Here at W.C.a.r.i.E.l.f. SALUTING ALL of his G.C. FAMILY with a SONG! SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO! by the CLASH.
PEACE
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"***************** SPECIAL SALUTE ******************
TO;
The White Council Empire
Ray CSB"
(Returns salute to CariElf Fan Club President and Vice-Presidents)
         
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A STORY OF LUST AND POWER GONE WRONG
(or Christopher Packer’s Revenge).
Warning: This story contains adult themes, coarse language and some sex scenes.
[Note: Some facts have been re-arranged or changed for dramatic effect.
All characters in this story are fictitious and there is no connection with any persons living, dead, or in cyberspace.]
Chapter 1
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.
Chapter 2
Chris stroked CariElf and rubbed her soft, velvety ears. He muzzled CariElf's tummy. "Squee, squee", he said, in a rather odd voice. "Who's my pretty, little girl? My little cutie wutie pussie". CariElf's tail twitched and she sprang away. With a hiss she was gone. Chris sighed. Even Chris's little kitten didn't appreciate him today. Chris finished cleaning up CariElf's litter tray and settled down with a glass of Pinot and his signed copy of The Collected Works of Pontius. An hour later, with a disturbing image of Misty Hymen's swimwear in his mind, he put the book down. Where had Pontius come from? Where had Pontius gone? Were the tales of Pontius and Gunner Gerakken true? How, like true mates, they had lived life to the full in the sea of space. Dodged highly trained, snappy (tap dancing) sheep. Eluded the exploding sheep sent to horribly take them out. The exploding beer barrels had not harmed them. What dangers they had survived. What spirit they showed. Were they actually Aussies in pirate disguise, Chris idly thought? But no. Chris shook his head and sighed. The sheep sirens of the South Island held no allure for them, and no true ANZAC could long resist the sirens' simple charms.
Chapter 3
It was morning. Chris looked furtively around. He suspected that some one had read his diary. Across the 10 June entry there was written in very large, red, angry words: "Ah, Chris, the only thing common here is your jealousy. For in the end, I will not be a nice guy who finishes last, I will be the guy who finishes nicely." Chris read and re-read this. Who had written it? What did it mean? His brow wrinkled, for his Botox had not yet become fully effective.
With a shudder, Chris threw the diary in the furnace, quickly. He had written the diary entry in a fit of fury after the major disappointment of coming second to a very handsome and well-loved pirate in the last high-intensity "Prose and Poetic Death Match" the temple had run. Had he meant the words he had written? Of-course! To come second in prose, indeed! But never had he guessed another would read his simple words.
Chris turned away from the fiery furnace. And there stood that very pirate. The pirate's eyes glowed red with the reflected furnace fire. The diary pages crackled.
"So Avast, ye scurvy sheepdog! About time for ye to turn tail and retreat while ye can. We've run up our true colors. I just hafta loot yer holds for the wine casks first before we sail to Greece! Arr!”
Chris stared, unsure of what to say or think.
"Avast, ye mateys! The Reaper came and yer about to be boarded and plundered by GROSS. Say yer prayers and get ta running. If ye can stay ahead till nightfall, ye might escape us until the dawn shows us yer colors again! Arrr!”
Chris moved his left foot back, slowly. His right foot followed. He turned and ran from the furnace room. Chris's mind spun. How had the pirate gotten into the Skowbo II CariElf Temple grounds without an invitation? What had he just said? Why did he oscillate between much-loved prose and gibberish? There were no easy answers that day.
(To be continued)
    
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Chapter 4
The afternoon swamp fumes drifted over the CariElf Temple grounds. With a shake of his head, Chris's thoughts moved on. Chris wandered through the grounds, aimlessly. Bounding about were Secret Order recruits, acolytes and novices. He stepped up short to allow the latest MWC slave gang to amble dejectedly by. Chris took the opportunity, as he always did, to slyly kick the last stooped slave in the line. And then a second kick when the slave was down.
"Peon", Chris said, with as much authority as he could muster. "Where were you captured, err, recruited?”. The slave blinked and groveled, for he had been told that instant and utter obedience would be required on this hellhole planet, in the service of the Goddess.
"Oh Lord Master, on Planet Wardell, our good ship the Iowa Tramp was being repaired, when that demon in human form surprised us!”. The slave flicked a fearful look at Sergeant Hard who was beating an Apologetic slave at the edge of the parade ground. "Our crew was distracted! The engine crew was playing 'Cop Her Knickers' with the spaceport girlygirls! The Bridge crew was out surfing. I was reading a book on cryogenics and frozen foxes. Others were idly processing the latest Empire reports." The slave whimpered and soulfully looked at VP Chris whilst clutching his arm wound. The slave thought: small in reputation and even smaller in stature, but tried to repress that thought. Too late! Chris saw even that small hint of derision in the slave's eyes.
"Take him away. Now. Indoctrinate this one first." Chris spitted with venom, gesturing grandly at the down-and-out slave, and stomped towards Sergeant Hard in a huff. The quivering slave watched Chris prance away with a look of impotent hatred. Thoughts of revenge throbbed across his brow. Chris should have realized that you never kick a mid-westerner when they are down, which is quite often.
Chapter 5
"Sargie!" Chris cooed. Sergeant Hard glared flatly at Chris from narrowed, red eyes. Chris well knew that Hard hated to be called 'Sargie', let alone be cooed at. But he hadn't expected such a reaction to his little ribbing. For a second Chris wondered whether he had gone too far once again. Humph, Chris thought, Hard does have weasely, red eyes. Eyes like a good Pinot actually. And a big nose. Chris glanced further down with a sneer. But then looked quickly up and gulped. And he thought; never trust a man who has really highly polished boots.
"Sargie, where are you getting these new slav...I mean recruits. Look at them. Scrawny. Simple. Common. Is there anything going on behind their eyes? I think not. As blank as the plains they come from. Lift your game, man. The Viscountess wants only the best", and with a flick of his fingers he pirouetted and stormed off. Sergeant Hard glared fiercely at Chris's departing back for long, long minutes.
Chapter 6
The fetid air of Skowbo II clogged his nostrils. The nasal twang of the Pres clawed at his ears: "More chocolite, more friut. Mangoes and pomegranates for Her Sublimeiness." Pres waved his hand sublimely. "Qik now". The Under Lords jumped around frantically.
"Yes Pres. Immediately" Chris found himself saying, as he hurried out the Temple door. Yet his thoughts were dark. Does he think bloody chocolate and fruit grow on trees? Where can I find chocolate at this hour!
Chris put his head in his hands and silently wept. Where had the fun gone? The nights reciting Odes to the Viscountess. Sipping pomegranate sherbets and listening to the gentle ballads on W.C.A.R.I.E.L.F. Why does nothing good last, he thought?
Chris hurried to his quaint villa nestled on a hill. A gentle swamp breeze wafted by in the night. But a silent, cowled figure brought him up sharp. Chris stared at the old, old man who clutched a long rough stick. "Who are you?” Chris's lip quivered. "Speak or I'll call the guards". Chris glanced behind him, but no guard was near. Both lips began to quiver. The old, old man leaned forward. "I have a sweet boon to ask of you,” he said, as he chewed his cud. His seemingly white robes ruffled in the dank breeze.
"Speak quickly old, old man" Chris said nervously, "I have chocolate to get for Our Lady of the Sweets. You know what they say, sweets for the sweet". Chris twittered with a high-pitched giggle. Damn, damn, damn, why did I say that, he thought with a groan.
The old, old man said: "You may know of my Order. We were once the White Council. But now we call ourselves the Council of Many Colours. To better represent what we really stand for". He winked. Chris shivered. That wink had not been a pretty sight. "We were once the greatest Order in the Galaxy. Now..." he shrugged and held back a sob, "our circumstances are much decayed. But yes, we again want what was once ours." The old, old man's eyes glazed and he flicked his stick into Chris's stomach. "And you will get it for us". Chris staggered back, with a sick feeling in his tummy.
"You can't mean" whimpered Chris, "the Telath Crystal? Or do you mean The One Ring?”
"Oh, ah, umm. I may have to consult our lore expert on that. At this point in time I’ll settle for either".
"I...I...I" (Chris stammered) "cannot get either for you. The Pres guards them with all his power. Not for a minute does he let sight of them go. And I shall now call a guard and have you..."
Woof. His breath left his body and he crumpled to the ground. The old, old man, his robes swirling gently, prised his stick from Chris's stomach. "If you do not get it either for me, don't expect to long live." With this he turned and shuffled away, chuckling maniacally. Chris whimpered and watched the old, old man's swirling, many-coloured robe disappear into the swampy gloom. Just before he was out of earshot, Chris yelled, “I knew the pretty colours would seduce you”. The old, old man heard, but he didn’t stop.
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Chapter 7
The Pres glanced playfully at Chris. "Chocolate. Chocilate. Chocklate. Yum. Yim. Yumm. He. He. He. Ha, ha tum, de, dum. LOVES me, me, me". The Pres pranced into the Viscountess's inner sanctum; his hands filled with Chris's chocolate stash, and slammed the door hard in Chris's face. Chris glanced around furtively and sidled up to the door. His ear went to the door. He heard: "Now My Precious. My Sweat. Chocilate. Chocklate. Chocolate. Yummies for Her Yumminess." Her Royalness guffawed in a high womanly tone. A shiver went down Chris's back as it always did when he heard the Light of His Life. Only noisy munching could be heard for some minutes. Then the Pres said "Oh Shining Light. All of my chocolite I gladly give to My Queen".
Chris saw red. Before he knew it, he was inside the inner sanctum. The sanctum where none but programmers and the pres were permitted to go. "For sheep’s sake, it was my chocolate, my chocolate, my...". Chris's brow broke out in a sweat. He had never seen such a glare as the angry, high-pitched glare of the Viscountess CariElf. Her eyes were like thunder. Her fist a dreadnought. Her snear ripped his heart out. Her pouted mouth ate it.
The Pres shook his head slowly and quickly saw Chris to the door. After the door had closed, the Pres said, simply, and fluently, "The VP TerrorStar may have to depart and soon, eh Your Computerness? And what is that you say, perhaps he needs to be helped along?" He nodded and looked thoughtfully intelligent, despite his very, very young age. "Yeees, whatever you say mommy".
Chapter 8
Chris looked at the report, again. The report was titled "The Psychic Purple Duck of Skowbo Incident" and described in quick, precise prose how the unarmed Head of the Secret Order of Cari-Elf had been grossly injured in cold blood, just before the last out-of-control party. Chris looked up at Quack, who stood numbly at attention before him.
"Oh really?" said Chris, with a sneer. "And that is how it really happened?” A drop of sweat crawled down Quack's brow and inched toward his left eyebrow, which as it happened had been scorched away. Quack nodded dumbly. He was always tongue-tied around his hero. Short in height but huge in intellect he thought admiringly, looking at Chris.
"You can't be serious. The Purple Duck zorched by a tramp named Blue Ocean?? Next we'll have people coming here calling themselves the Yellow Sign or the Lilac Pussycat". Chris's thin lips distorted in an unhappy rictus. "I'm sorry Quack, but you should rethink your position in our happy, swampy Temple. Why, a dirty, little chimp could have done better. Get out. Get out now". Quack's somewhat handsome face twisted with shame as he fled Chris's office, holding back his tears. Quack felt grievously betrayed by the person he looked up to the most. His heart was torn. He couldn't live with this shame, or at least....
Chapter 9
Bluey's funeral was somewhat well attended. The four mourners chatted for a bit until one said "Coffee?". They grinned and nodded and without a backwards glance, left the room.
A slow minute ambled by. The back door softly opened and a hooded figure entered the room, a hammer and chisel clutched in his hands. Minutes later the coffin lid was ajar and Bluey climbed out of the coffin. The men hugged each other in a manly embrace and then sprang apart with a chuckle.
"You know I love you, man!" said bluey, "Although not in that way!". They laughed and playfully punched each other four or five times.
"Well, that ruse worked almost too well. At least now the Secret Order thinks I'm dead". The men laughed again. "But really man, I’ve gotta get out of here. This marsh is killing me,” said Bluey. "Is there a ship hereabouts, unguarded?".
The other man shook his head ncertainly. "Although... VP Christopher Packer does have his space corvette 'The CariElf' always ready to cruise". The men looked at each other speculatively. "Where does he keep the corvette's key rod?".
The other man grimaced, and said, with eyes downcast, "around his neck". Bluey nodded and punched the other man roughly. "You know what we have to do".
The other man sighed. “Yea I suppose you’re right. If we get caught...well. Might as well hang for a sheep, as for a lamb”. He waddled, wombat like, towards the door.
Chapter 10
Chris mused. How could he become well liked? How could he get CariElf’s highest awards: The Sash of Programming Deftness, or the Badge of Even Integers. How could he get the blokes to accept him as a mate. Chris wept, and reached for his empty wine glass. But his last bottle of South Island Pinot was empty. His eyes were heavily glazed. As Quack would so innocently say, he was smashed. He had a thought, but lost it. Then another, and this one he held on to. I know, I know, he thought. Chris sprang from his chair and dashed from the villa. He was filled with purpose.
Chapter 11
The new recruits brought in the beer barrel. They were now bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after their quick re-education. Their former lives in the cold, dusty plains of their home planet were now a distant nightmare. “Ho, ho, ho, and a barrel of rum” they sang, somewhat incorrectly. The gathered Overlords and adulators rolled their eyes at the grossness of the new recruits.
Viscountess CariElf had left the gathering earlier, ‘to get a bit of fresh air’ she had said. The Pres was seated on his pile of soft pillows, swaying gently to the chirpy sounds of Black Sabbath coming from W.C.A.R.I.E.L.F. Gunner Gerakken had been invited to the gathering to tell his tall yarns, but was now in his cups, staring disbelievingly at the mug of high proof Aussie beer, whilst swaying ever more dangerously and muttering “Arr, Arr, Arr”, and so on.
Sergeant Hard and Quack sat quietly together at the rear, their sharp, highly intelligent and handsome eyes darting around the room. Nothing escaped their sharp gaze. They knew all the questions and all the answers. They wondered, not for the first time, who the cowled, silent and stooped figure really was. The man was clothed in a motley tie-dyed robe and sipped the pomegranate sherbets with abandon. Mutton dressed as lamb they thought. Quack speculated on why the Viscountess had invited the mystery man to the gathering, but he had no answers.
A recruit tapped the keg and began to pour a beer. The recruit stopped in confusion and sniffed the beer, then slowly opened the loose keg lid. He screamed and with a gasp, fainted. Or as Sergeant Hard noticed, pretended to faint.
Quack limped to the barrel and looked in. Floating in the frothy beer was what appeared to be VP Lord Christopher Packer, with an angelic smile, or perhaps a grimace of horror on his pale, still face. Quack tried to look a little surprised. He caught the Pres’s eye. The Pres had sat back with a smirk and was waving indecorously. “Somethink soured the bieer?” he cackled, and smirked some more.
The pirate shivered, for he was very nice at heart, and not as cutthroat as his absent Captain. He edged towards the door, slowly.
The party soon got into full swing.
Chapter 12
The trial started a week later. But that is another story.
THE END
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#260
by Veteran TheQuack - 6/21/2003 12:33:12 PM
Pawns In Transit
Sergeant Hard glared fiercely at Chris's departing back for long, long minutes. He knew Chris was plotting something, and tried to guess the details. It seemed like everyone had secret agendas around here - including himself. He remembered the simple days when his only responsibility was breaking in new recruits in the peon armies, when he marched out a billion recruits at a time. He had fewer recruits nowadays, but much more to teach. And then there was the politics of the temple...
He smirked as he remembered Chris's words. Only the best people, indeed. Maybe for the jobs which put people in contact with Her Highness - but there were other tasks. They were not as glamarous, but they were necessary for the survival of the Secret Order, and without the Secret Order things could fall apart. In many sectors, Official Cari-Elf Autographed Merchandise was worth its weight in gold. Some of the most prized items were pink cashmere sweaters. Hard looked over the newest bunch of slaves as they were marched to the sweat-shop. Even these slack-jawed yokels could be trained, eventually. Hard smiled in anticipation of the brutality ahead, and went over his lecture plan for teaching cross-stitching.
---
"You're all clear, kid. Now let's blow this thing and go home."
Agent Smith nodded as he heard the transmission from Agent Jones' stolen freighter, and readied the weapons on his starfighter. Some impudent overlords had thought up the idea of moving around galactic resources. Quite ingenious, Smith thought. Of course, such unbalancing actions could not be allowed. The Gods were considering the situation, but meanwhile, he had his orders: "discourage" overlords from taking such actions.
The agents had already manipulated events to cause uprisings against this galaxy's overlord. The fundamentalist rebels had attempted to sabotage a Terror Star, which was preparing to haul military-grade crystals to a secure sector. The rebels had quite a good chance of victory, but Secret Order agents did not take chances. Smith thought for a second about the rebel peons they'd thrown out the airlock when hijacking these ships. A couple blonde dudes, a chick with a hair fetish, and a Bobo-wannabee with a mean streak. What an odd crew. He turned his attention back to the torpedoes, and nodded as they sped out and reached their mark. The Terror Star was no more - the balance had been restored.
Smith casually scrolled through his starfighter's messagebank, then stopped at a new message. He opened a channel to Jones:
"Did you get the boss's message?"
"Yes. Pick me up, and we can go."
An escape pod was ejected from the stolen freighter. The fighter swooped over it, grabbed it, and jumped into meta-space.
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"Are you sure about this, sir?", the sergeant asked Quack as he turned off the transmitter. "We cannot neglect our duties in the metaverse for long."
"True, true. But we have plenty of agents in place to deal with such things. More are needed here. The factions have increased their prescence on Skowbo. We must be cautious." Quack took another sip from his Carlton Cold, and started planning his next move.
   
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#261
by Citizen MattTmatt - 6/22/2003 1:40:15 AM
First, to any and all who work on this wonderful game-you have done an amazing job. This is THE best strategy game I have ever played, and I've been playing them for....well, let's say before computers.
Thank you CariElf. If you are one tenth as beautiful as you are wonderful, you could launch a million BattleAxes.
Please don't flame me, but MM77, please please please get a spellchecker or look at what you post. Pretty please?
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#263
by Veteran MM77 - 6/25/2003 5:04:03 AM
TheQuack,
I LOVE that SONG, I want to say "Oy, you, let's fight!" but it's hard when you LOVE special people with the SOUL of a GUARDIAN ANGEL as YOU ARE! 
As YOU are so am I. When my services or needed I'll be SUMMONED!
FOR I AM THE KEEPER OF THIS!!! QUEST!!!
I may not always appear to be here but I don't always need to speak THE CLUB DOSE. I am the OVERSEER until STARDOCK pulls this THREAD!
And YOU ARE a DREADNAUGHT!.... MAKE! YOUR WAY IN OUR CLUB AS YOU HAVE! 
At times this CLUB WILL seem DEAD or BUSY! BUT!
IT CAN NEVER DIE! FOR IT IS ONE LONG STORY!
That can only be ADDED TO.
OTHER MEMMBERS have other QUEST at this time THAY WILL come HOME from time to time.
THIS THREAD will never need sticky, bumps, or constant CHAT, to keep it ALIVE! because it's MORE THAN THAT, it's a G.C. FAMILY CLUB.
AND A STORY OF FRIENDSHIP! That will NEVER BE FORGOTTEN! 
MattTmatt,Oy!
When I read you post I laughed for 20 minutes, I thought to myself dose this person NOT KNOW about my MOTHER HELPING ME WITH MY SPELLING? SHEEEEESH!
MattTmatt READ ALL the POST and YOU would KNOW my BAD SPELLING is MY TRADEMARK!tm.And maybe my BREATH.....BHA!....HA...HA....ooops!
NOW FACT! MattTmatt; I CAN'T SPELL but YOUR DUMB!
This CLUB is BASED on FIGHTING!!! Oy!Oy!Oy!Oy!Oy!Oy!Oy!Oy!DUMB!DUMB!DUMB!DUMB!DUMB!!!!  JERK!
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Pres: Hehehe.
Quack: and the next chapter...? 
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#265
by Veteran MM77 - 6/26/2003 5:51:35 PM
---------------- INTERMISSION ----------------
---------------- HALL of FAME ----------------
------------- CLASSIC STORY/SAGAS ------------
TheQuack : CARI-CON * Post # 181 *
Blue Ocean : The Voyage * Post # 189,193,212 *
TheQuack : Divine Secrets * Post # 201,202,203,206,223,224,225,226,227,260 *
Drop Bear : LORD TERROSTAR VICE PRESIDENT Chistopher Packer's diary * Post # 211 *
Drop Bear : A STORY OF LUST AND POWER GONE WRONG * Post # 255,257,259 *
These GEMS will Not be rated unwilling of thair PRICELESS VALUE.
So thay WILL be posted in the HALL of FAME.
LANDMARKS! Thank You
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#267
by Veteran MM77 - 6/26/2003 7:57:29 PM
WHEN GODS EVOLVES:
(The Lord looks down from his throne, with an discussed and impatient look.)
* LORD MM77 * My blades thirst for blood! I need BATTLE! Shall I kill ALL for whom I know? Or shall I kill ALL fresh meat! How shall I go about this quest?
(The god ponders.)
* LORD MM77 * For I AM DEATH FOR I BRING IT! For is there any out there that would like to taste my BLADE!
( The god ponders to himself for he wishes to impress the goddess CariElf )
* LORD MM77 * For I will issue a challenge to all GODS! I will reward any god that can kill me for death only makes me stronger! I taste blood on the tip of my sword.... SWEET!
( His sick twisted soul waits for his first victim. )
[Message Edited]
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#270
by Veteran MM77 - 7/19/2003 3:18:05 PM
Ahh...Richard Heaton one of my best friend/ Rivals I love this guy we had some good times together and I hope we have some again he's a great VP.
Gengsta,
I love your stories in other threads, Perhaps you may continue on in 'WHEN GODS EVOLVES' Feel free to write yourself into the story. Who knows you may become of the VP.(smile)
KitWarrior,
CariElf is beyond any treasure know of.(smile)
Now back to business Gerakken's WAR OF THE WORLDS thread is a must read, for true CariElf fans.
Gerakken,
You make us proud. Keep up the good work.
[Message Edited]
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#272
by Veteran MM77 - 7/19/2003 5:07:03 PM
CariElf sits under a tree with leafs fallen upon her.
I approach her from behind and whispered in her ear.
It seems a bit early for the fall don't you think.
She smiles, The fall comes at times we least expect.
I smile, My dear whenever it does I remember spring will return.
She laughs, and how long will your spring last?
I grinned, as long as you wish.
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#273
by Veteran MM77 - 7/21/2003 7:14:40 PM
WAR OF THE WORLDS
From our Gerakken's Thread
#18 by Citizen MM77 - 7/19/2003 11:43:11 AM
___________________________________________________
CariElf, a strange mystical planet in the universe. many empires have tried to capture:
* Sgt * Captain the strange planet they call CariElf is on the horizon!
* captain * Ready turbo phasers! set! mass drivers!( sweat dripping down from his forehead. DAZED AND CONFUSED by LED ZEPPLIN playing in the background. )
* captain * FIRE!
( Massive amounts of unbridled energy flashes over the planet! but not so much as a leaf is damaged. )
* Sgt * captain! there is a MAN sitting on a ROCK in SPACE!
* captain * That man may be some type of sentinel for that planet!? Fire on him!
( The smoke clears and the man slowly lifts his head up! )
* MM77 * Greetings Captain Crew, you have a long hard battle ahead of you. rest your crew on our planet.(He smiles)
* captain * What type the witchcraft is this who ARE YOU!
* MM77 * I am president of CariElf. (As he speaks they appear on CariElf)
* captain * DEMON how did you do that! I demand..............( Slowly the captain loses track of reality and find some himself in a euphoric mood.) What's happening I feel GREAT!
* MM77 * That's because you're near our goddess VISCOUNTESS CariElf. come to the gathering room some call it the CariElf fan club.
( the captain sees members of many warring empires laughing and drinking have been a great time and feels compelled to join IN! )
* MM77 * The CariElf fan club is a place on CariElf where people from all empires come together let their hair down and have a good time and give praise to our VISCOUNTESS. All are welcome. The CariElf fan club has been very innovative and is said to be the seed that's started the ongoing stories in the forums. Members have left the CariElf fan Club to spread out new stories and tales of wonderful adventures, As you will! But they all come back from time to time to pay their respects. And recharged for new stories and concepts! And just to bonds with their G.C. family! we are all just one FAMILY.
( MM77 Rambles on to say the CariElf fan club is always there when you needed it. You may not always see it because of its mystical powers, BUT it will always be there, PLANET CariElf. And with that the captain appeared in space on his ship with his crew with no trace of CariElf.)
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#274
by Senator CariElf - 7/21/2003 7:45:56 PM
It was a strange temple.
The altar had no candles, but there was light shining from it--or rather, from the 21" monitor placed on it, and from the optical mouse. There was a keyboard, and speakers on the altar too, and all of these were connected to a ghostly quiet computer that nevertheless was running.
Stacked in front of the altar were cases of Mt. Dew and various forms of chocolate, apparently offerings from followers.
What was even odder was that there were absolutely no images or symbols of any kind in the temple, unless you counted all those zeros and ones that were carved all over the place.
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