Author Topic: Traveler's Harvest - Doctor Gillian West  (Read 790 times)

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Traveler's Harvest - Doctor Gillian West
« on: March 01, 2015, 02:11:29 AM »
This was written in one sitting, get the story down and post it, first draft and no endless editing  :jester:

"That man is trouble," Andriena said quietly to her husband.

"Who?" Paolo turned with some interest, there had to be something interesting at this thing they loosely called a party.

"At the door," she replied and he glanced to see a man passing his topcoat to someone at the door. Tallish, a six-footer but only six even. A bit pale perhaps, he clearly didn't go outside much or bother with tanning. Clean-shaven with black hair that was combed back without a part. The light blue eyes were interesting, but not really uncommon. Nice tux, gold at his left wrist and something a bit more high-tech on his right. Nothing said danger to "Little Pauley" and he looked at his wife.
"He's nothing," Paolo dismissed him. "Unless you think he's some kind of Fed."
Andreina smiled at that. "In thousand dollar shoes and a tailored tuxedo?"
Paolo shrugged again. "Doesn't look like anything. Want to meet him?" She nodded and they strolled through to arrange an accidental meeting.
He stopped in an area set aside for cigar aficionados, something completely incongruous with a hospital fundraiser, but where money was involved principles became flexible. They saw him draw a cigar from a case and carefully snip and light it before they reached him. He made studied indifference an art form, seeming to notice nothing around him and not really concerned that he was in public, but he did seem to enjoy his cigar.
"Stop looking at your watch," she cautioned her husband. "You're rich darling, time is somebody else's problem." Paolo sighed and turned his wrist and made a show of fixing a cufflink and as they drew close he drew out his own cigar case and trimmed a fine Havana stick and felt around for a lighter that he couldn't seem to find. Before he could ask the stranger held out his own lighter and stroked a bright flame and cupped his other hand around it. Paolo smiled and held the tip to the flame for a moment before he leaned forward and drew deeply and finally straightened and exhaled a stream toward the ceiling.
"Thank you," Paolo smiled, the man smiled faintly and nodded his head slightly. "Paolo Rauch," he introduced himself. "And this is my wife, Andreina."
"Fleming," the man took Paolo's hand first and then his wife's. "Ian Fleming." He studied them for a moment. "Swiss," he said at last, surprising them both.
"I'm sorry?" Paolo asked. "Oh yes, our families are Swiss but we both grew up mostly here in the states."
"Long enough to almost lose the last inflections," Fleming smiled again before puffing his cigar again.
"What brings you to this event?" Andreina asked. "We come to most of them and I don't recall seeing you at any of them before."
"Serendipity," Fleming smiled. "It was a fortunate series of events leading to this night. The fundraiser is for the trauma unit and I have a close friend that was saved by a surgeon in that unit, and the least I can do is write them a check to show a little of my gratitude, to show it all would bankrupt everyone in this room." He checked the time on the gold watch and then flicked away a nearly-silently buzzing alarm on the other.
"Is that a Rolex?" Paolo asked. "I've never seen that model."
"It is the only one of its kind," Fleming shrugged. "They made it for me to repay a favor."
This seemed to throw off the pair. "What do you do?" Andriena asked, feeling he'd opened the door.
Fleming smiled. "I am an engineer," he replied. "I work in many fields, or I consult in them. I solve problems."
"That sounds exciting," she smiled.
He shrugged. "Not really, it generally involves a lot of irritated clients. They call you in because they want to remove a wall without an entire building collapsing, you go in and mark an X in chalk on the wall that it is safe to remove and bill them $100,000. You get an angry letter asking why making an X on a wall is worth that much and you reply with an invoice, one piece of chalk, 5˘.  Knowing where to put the X $99,999.95." He shrugged. "The check is usually sent by courier by close of business that day."
They both laughed at that. "It is an unusual cigar as well, Dominican, Hondouran?" Paolo asked.
"I have my own cigar maker," Fleming replied. "She has her own preferred leaves, I don't ask questions, I just enjoy the fruits of her labors."
Paolo smiled at that, he was guessing there was some sort of Cuban connection but it was a breach of etiquette to ask. That was the problem with this man, he answered every question, but in such a way that offered no way to follow up. Paolo tapped his leg and was gratified a few seconds later when his phone rang quietly. "Pardon me," he looked embarrassed. He left his cigar in the tray and stepped away to take the call. "The man I'm talking to, find out who he is." He said quietly and waited, then frowned at the reply. The cameras couldn't get a clear shot of him, his features were too blurred to run through the computers. "Just keep trying." He grated and poked the end call, maybe Andriena was right, this may be a dangerous man. He stepped back over and found his cigar had gone out, Fleming lit it without breaking his conversation with a few of the people setting up the event.
"I was pleased to do my part," he said depreciatingly, "I do thank you for this invitation, fortunately I travelled with a proper wardrobe, I hate being sent to the rack for a night like this." There was laughter at that point and he snuffed out the rest of the his cigar, just as the tray was replaced with a new one and taken away. "Your pardon, I think I'd like to mix and mingle a bit, perhaps talk to a few of the doctors." Paolo stiffened at that, he wasn't sure why, he ignored Andriena's hard look that told him he was giving things away and drew deeply on his own cigar and held the smoke to steady his nerves. Thank god this was Vegas, there'd always be someplece to get a smoke without the nicotine nazis coming down on you.
Gillian West was used to getting attention, she was still under thirty, pretty, and a blonde with the proper curves. The only saving grace was that she was tall, an inch over six feet in these heels, and inch under six foot without them. She slapped on her fundraiser smile when she heard someone say her name from behind her. "Doctor West," he said with a confident smile. "Ian Fleming." She looked him over with a practiced flick of the eye. Tallish, trim, age unknown but younger than most in the room, eyes that looked right inside you. The whale, she realized. The man that dropped half of a million dollars into the Trauma Center's coffers this morning, a cashier's check that cleared even.
"Mister Fleming," she extended her hand and was gratified that he wasn't a knuckle crusher, men tended to do that to look more macho or something and she didn't like risking a surgeon's hands to their inadequacies. "You are a very generous man."
He smiled and shrugged and leaned into to whisper what she assumed would be something modest and dismissive. "Do not leave this room, for any reason," he said quietly. "Your life depends on you listening to me. Do you understand?"
"Who are you?" She murmured.
"I'm your security blanket," he replied. "You have a problem, Doctor. Do you remember a warning that Gavin O'Day had better not survive surgery?"
She looked surprised at that. 'If Gavin O'Day survives that operation, you won't. He dies nice and quiet or you die screaming,' the man had told her over the phone. She discounted it at once, these sorts of things only happened in cheesy spy novels. "How do you know about that?" She blustered. "It was all talk."
"They plan to take you," he replied. "Grab you here and make you disappear. I don't plan to let them."
"Why is he talking to her?" Paolo asked his wife.
Andriena watched her face. "It's all wrong, he just scared her."
"Shit," Paolo took out his phone. "Anything?" He cursed at the reply. "Nothing, we can't get any facial detail. No, wait," the voice said. We got a reflection, we're running that."
In the security loft they fiddles with a reflection from a polished brass panel behind the female doctor. The computer started its search and he looked back at the camera and smiled, the two men at the monitor looked at each other and felt sick. There was something in that smile that broke them both out in a cold sweat. "Sir, something is wrong, he just looked right into the camera and it came into focus and..." every piece of electronics in the room vaporized at that instant, power surges took down the computer network for the entire building and the offsite computers that were searching to put a name with the face they finally saw. The search was a literal dead end.
Paolo cursed and poked the end call and speed dialed another. "Take her and the man with her."
"Life is about to get interesting," Fleming told her. "I hope you aren't the hysterical sort."
A hand lifted her skirt from behind her and she felt knuckles slide up the back of her thigh. Fleming's hand stopped the hand and she felt a stream of liquid soak her right cheek and thigh. Fleming brought up the hand from under her skirt and she saw an auto-injector in the hand, they tried to drug her," she realized and then saw the hand twisted to an impossible angle and heard bone and ligament give way as the hand was now facing 180° from normal. She winced, knowing what it would take to fix that. She tried to warn Fleming about the injector pressing to his neck and heard the click as the needle shot out and released its chemical load. Fleming smiled at the man holding it and spit liquid into the man's eyes and took the injector.
"That's the problem with hiring your dirty work done these days," he sighed. "Nobody worth having is available so you're stuck with the junior varsity wannabes," he said as he shoved the needle of the injector into the man's eyeball.
Gillian felt herself drawn away by the hand, through a nearby doorway and they started down a set of stairs. She was unsteady on her feet as they descended and slipped out into the casino proper. He looked down at her feet in irritation and seemed to study feet as they passed through the casino. They stopped by a man at a nickel slot machine and he held up a c-note. "Your shoes," he said to the old pensioner. At the blank stare he made a fanning motion and there were now a pair of Franklins. "Give me your shoes," he said again, it took a few seconds for the man to slide a pair of laceless Surfer Vans off and pass them over. The cash vanished into the old man's pocket and Fleming turned to her. "Change into these, quickly!"
She went to protest but his expression discouraged discussion, she slipped out of her heels and into the sneakers, and was surprised that they fit, even if they felt a little damn, which was gross. Then they were moving again, out into the street and down the sidewalk until he flagged a cab. "Freemont Street," he directed and silenced her with a glance as she tried to speak. He tapped the device on his right wrist and spoke into it, but even sitting next to him she could hear what he'd said. She noticed then that the taxi driver seemed a bit put out not to have heard either.
When they reached the end of the covered street they stepped out and Fleming leaned over the window and passed the man a c-note. "I don't like eavesdroppers, Clarence," he addressed the cabby. "And I don't like people keeping tabs on me. You don't want to see me again, and you don't want to remember anything about me, you're going to drive to the Bellagio, that's where I got out after I didn't like what I saw here. You remember anything different and it will be the last thing you ever remember. On your way now."
Fleming led her down the street without a backward glance, they took in the sights for a few minutes before slipping into the Four Queens. "Mister Templar," the lady at the desk greeted him. "Welcome back, sir!" she took out two key cards and passed them over to her. "Your luggage arrived a few minutes ago and is in your suite, and the order you called in went straight into the kitchen and will be up shortly."
"You spoil me," Fleming...Templar flirted with her as he took her hand and pressed a pair of bills onto her palm.
"We like to take care of our regulars," she replied and waved back as they left her to find their suite. Inside the room he cast a careful eye around them and finally relaxed, just a bit. He crossed to the luggage stands and opened them both and nodded his approval. "Doctor, I suggest you take advantage of the shower," he looked over the contents of the suitcase and handed her a silk nightdress with matching robe. It was a bit sexy, but it was married sexy. "And for the time being, your name is Mary Templar, and I am your husband, Simon."
"Simon...Simon Templ... you mean like The Saint?" Then she smacked her forehead with an open palm. "Ian Fleming, as in James Bond."
"Very good," he smiled at her, "dinner is coming up, I took the liberty of ordering for you, I'll get changed while you freshen up and we'll eat and discuss this situation."
She returned later to find dinner laid out and wine poured, he sat where he could watch the door and window with her chair across from her. He was dressed simply, white silk pajama pants and a loose shirt of the same material, worn open. It was impossible to look more relaxed than he was at that moment, even his formerly immaculately groomed hair was pleasantly disheveled. "I hope you're hungry," he said and as he spoke her appetite returned with a vengeance and her stomach growled. "I ordered you the Chilean Sea Bass, pan seared, I hope you like it."
It was a favorite, she sat and studied it suspiciously. "Do I have a reason to trust you that I don't know about?"
"I am very trustworthy," he shrugged. "But I'd like to try a bit of your dinner, cut me a piece from anywhere and give me a bite," he smiled. She did and he didn't fall over, he sipped her wine and nodded his approval as well. "If I was going to do anything, I'd have already done it," he smiled faintly and started on his own prime rib, she noticed he had crab legs and lobster tail as well.
It seemed that they weren't going to eat and talk so she finished her sea bass and took his offered bites of crab and lobster. He finally returned the dishes to the room service cart and rolled it into the hall. "So, I suppose I should start at the beginning. Gavin O'Day survived an arranged accident that was meant to kill him, he was brought into your trauma center and placed on your table. The call you received was intended to make sure that he died during the operation, but you are too good of a doctor to allow that to happen. Now, since they warned you, they will follow through on their threat, and they plan for you to take four days to die, and then they'll leave your body to be found as a warning to others so they'll take the threats seriously. I'll spare you the details of what all they planned to do to you, I'd rather not think about it, personally."
"So you're going to stop them?"
"Nothing will stop them," he replied. "What you see as a possible future, I see as a historical event. It has already happened and I can't change the fact that you die, but I can cheat fate."
"Okay," she swished her wine around in the glass carefully. "You realize of course that you sound nuts."
"If you weren't worried about me, I'd be scared for you," he shrugged. "But, you're in luck. I can show you the things that will prove me right."
"Not feeling warm and fuzzy yet," he replied.
"That's because you shave," he smirked.
Her mouth dropped open. "You peeked!"
"Nope, and your clothes aren't see through," he shrugged. "You also had your appendix and tonsils removed. You had your nose fixed, looks like it set badly after it was broken. You'll ovulate tomorrow, which won't make any difference as you haven't been with a man in seven months, and the last one was too big and very clumsy and cased a couple of tears that have healed nicely. And you used to have pierced nipples and a piercing down below, looks like you did them yourself and took them out a few years ago."
"How the hell...?"
"Would you believe me if I told you?"
"I don't know," she replied.
"Then we'll keep it simple, hold out your hands."
"Ok," she said doubtfully and gasped when her cat was suddenly resting across her palms.
"What the fuck?" She hasped and hugged the feline to her chest. "How the...hell did you do that?"
"You were worried about your kitty, Muggle is an odd name for a cat by the way, and so I brought her to you." He replied. "But how did she get here?"
"Like this," he replied and she gasped as she was suddenly sitting on the bed.
"Ohshitohshitohshit!" she gasped with wide eyes.
"Not the first time I've heard that," he shrugged.
"So, you're telling me that I'm supposed to die and you can stop that," she said quietly.
"Actually, you were supposed to be taken tonight, you should already be experiencing things that I won't willingly tell you, and in four days they were supposed to find what is left of you. A veteran cop of twenty-two years on the force was to have found you a week before he retired and what he saw would have given him a heart attack that made his retirement miserable. Maybe I can spare him that." He thought a moment. "The four person team that was supposed to take you are all killed because of the public outrage, the people that wanted you killed were afraid that it would come back to them. It did anyway. They are both supposed to get the death penalty."
"But why?"
"Gavin O'Day was their money man, he got busted and rolled over on everyone that he was doing financial hocus pocus for and they got together and tried to kill him," Templar conjured a lit cigar from thin air. He puffed quietly for a moment, but she smelled nothing and the smoke gathered into bluish ball over his head.
"Those as bad for you," she cautioned him.
"Gillian, come here," he said quietly, but there was a tone to his voice that she couldn't ignore. She set Muggle down and stepped over next to him. He placed the cigar into her hand and closed his fingers fight around her hand and pressed the glowing tip into his other palm. She could hear and smell the burning but he didn't make a sound, his body stayed relaxed. "I am not what you'd consider a normal man," he explained. "I was born the same as you were, but things seem to have changed, and over time I found out just how different that I am. Actually, I'm still finding that out," he said as she fought to pull the glowing tip from his searing skin, she sounded frantic and she couldn't fight the tears and finally he released her hand and the cigar disappeared in a puff of smoke. "I need you to look now," he funned her back as she huddled into his chest. "Doctor, can you compose yourself enough to inspect a burn wound?"
She was still crying when she looked at the horribly burned skin. "You bastard, you made me do that, I would never..."
"No you wouldn't, and I can certainly be a bastard, but watch the wound carefully. You agree it is a bad burn?"
"Third degree," she wiped her eyes. "I need my bag."
"Watch," he said and as she watched the burn healed over the course of five minutes, she could see the tissue recover to the point of normal healing and then beyond until it looked as if it never happened.
"How the fuck...?"
"Lois, there's something to tell you," he smiled faintly.
"You're not friggin' Superman," she laughed as her body still jerked from the tears.
"Oh hell no, I'd kick his ass," Templar scoffed. "I'm just different, and the things I do can't really be explained, so sometimes I have to do something flamboyant to get my point across. Would you like a less frightening demonstration?" He didn't wait for her answer, he placed his fingertip under her chin and lifted until she looked into his icy eyes. "No more pain," he murmured and leaned in and kissed her. Then things changed and she felt the couch of his lips at hers spread across her entire body in a warm glow, it seemed that that simple kiss knew every secret her body held and the warmer she felt the more she felt from him until her whole body seemed to light up and the sensations overwhelmed her and she felt her consciousness fade, her eyes snapped open and all she could see was his pale blue eyes as his lips released hers, and then slowly her vision returned and the darkness faded.
"You could have tried that before you burned the shit out of yourself and made me watch it heal?"
"That was more convincing?" He asked.
"Any man that can kiss like that deserves to be listened to," she gasped as she tried to calm her breathing.
"But I wouldn't have needed to change my pants," he chuckled. "You soaked me, Gillian."
She blushed bright red and punched his chest. "You are a bastard!" She groaned.
"It's been mentioned," he sighed. "Gillian, let's go to bed, tomorrow I want to talk to you about a new life and settle things here. Tonight, tonight is just tonight and we'll make of it whatever we want."
"Does it get better than the kiss?"
"I'm an okay kisser, I'm better at other things," he replied modestly.
Her eyes grew wide. "Will I survive better than that?"
"Ready to fly with Superman?" He laughed.
"No, but I want to ride the man that can kick his ass!"
Paolo and Andriena Rauch woke to find themselves standing against the wall of their bedroom, unable to move. they could hear the sounds of struggle off to the side, then as their eyes drew focus they could see the man called Ian Fleming leaned against the wall across from them, puffing a cigar. Black pants tucked into tall black hoots, white shirt, open at the neck and without buttons and a black waist length jacket. His very conservative-looking hairstyle was gone and it looked longer and finger-combed and tousled. Only the eyes were the same, icy pale blue. Those eyes studied them with contempt. "I have lived a far longer life than any of you would believe, and I have seen things that you cannot imagine, but I have never met six more contemptible human beings in my life. Look at your handiwork." He indicated the body of Doctor Gillian West on their bed. Her eyes were open and she blinked occasionally, but her breathing was shallow and slow. Her body looked as if she'd played host to atrocity. As bloody cat-o-nine-tails lay across her thighs, her wrists and ankles were bloody and raw beneath the shackles. "Be hold your handiwork, ladies and gentlemen."
"We didn't do that," one of the men hissed. "It's a frame-up."
"What you had planned was far worse," Fleming's voice was low and deadly. "I think you need to see what you would have done to her." He stepped up to the man and stared into his eyes and the vision of Gillian's body seared into his mind, and he stepped down the line and he showed each of them the bloody ruin that was the destiny of the young doctor, even the bandage over the ruined eye of one of them didn't soften his rage. "Just for making me see that, I should make you suffer, I may be a bastard, but even I have my limits. Now I have to set the timeline right, the timing will actually be off but all that needs to happen, will happen." He puffed his cigar again, the tip glowing brightly as he chewed the end in his mouth furiously. "My limits won't save you." He promised them in a chill voice. "You will see and feel everything, it isn't enough to pay for what you are, but it'll have to do. So, I'm going to do this from the lest offensive of you to the worst." He looked at one of the men. "That means you die first." He looked at a second. "Then you, and then you," he pointed at the third man. "And finally you," he looked at the only woman. "So much for the gentler sex, you are getting off mercifully compared to what you deserve." He stepped to Paolo. "You get to live, for now, and pay for all of this." Then he stared into Andriena's eyes. "As will you."
He stepped back and puffed his cigar for a moment as he steeled himself. Then the four started to move, gliding a few inches off of the ground until they were positioned where he wanted them as he stood at the foot of the bed and produced Paolo's handgun from within his jacket. "I promised you'd be first, didn't I?" There was fear in the man's eyes. "Answer me," Fleming growled.
Fleming shot him in the chest, he ignored the scream and choked breathing and shot the next, then the next, and finally looked at the woman and stared with contempt at her. "You were going to use a knife on her," he snarled. "Fair is fair," and he drew her up to her feet and rammed the blade into her back. Andriena gasped as she felt the woman's blood cover her right hand from across the room. Then Fleming shot her in the belly and let her fall. "See," he stepped over the first and looked down at him. "See, you get to die first." And he shot him through the right eye. He stepped down the line and finished the next two men with headshots and finally the woman as well. He looked over and saw Paolo's shoes and lower legs covered in blood and worse. He heard the sirens coming now and paused, moving the married couple to their final positions. He placed the bloody knife in Andriena's hand and the pistol in Paolo's, the husband fought his hand rising but as the pounding from the door reached him he fired several times into Gillian's body, then turned to face the bedroom door as he heard the front door kicked open.
He saw the two officers as they pointed their weapons at him, heard their shouts to drop their weapons and Paolo's arm twisted and he placed the gun under his chin, and they eyes of the uniformed men were wide until they heard the clock of the hammer falling on an empty weapon. Gillian's body twitched and they heard the rattle of her last tortured breath. The house was a treasure trove, the planning for the O'Day hit, the killers standing over the fresh bodies, digital photographs of all of them taking their turns with the victim. She was covered in their DNA as well, and the same mixture was all over all six attackers. They were in the express line for the needle.
Gillian woke in a rustic cabin, a warm blaze warmed the single room from the fireplace and she was buried under blankets. She saw the man she knew as Simon and Ian leaning against the mantle and staring down into the fireplace. He heard her move and looked at her and she saw the deep lines of worry in his face and the weariness in his eyes. "What happened?"
"I resolved the situation," he replied.
"Was it bad?" she asked.
"Even by my standards," he nodded. "I didn't do anything that they didn't deserve, it'll just take me a while to let go of it."
She nodded and looked out of the window. "Where on Earth are we?" She asked as she looked down the snowy valley outside the window.
"Nowhere on Earth," He replied. "This place is called Traveler's rest. You are in a whole new world."
"No joke?"
He shook his head. "This is my home now, I go back sometimes, but never for long. Sometimes I find someone whose life is going to be wasted and bring them here. You couldn't remain. I usually offer a choice, face your fate or come here and share your knowledge, but I couldn't do that with you. First because your fate was nothing I could leave anyone to and also because my timing was off, I reached you a day later than I meant to. Even Superman fucks up."
He sat on the bed by her and felt the cat under the blankets shift away from her. "Muggle," she said happily and drew the cat up to her. "I'll teach you about this world," he said quietly and paused at a knock on the door. A gruff voice spoke through the heavy planks and he replied in the same language and the door opened and a heavy-set man, short but as wide as the door carried in a heavy armload of wood and a tall thin woman followed and laid out a large breakfast on the table and they both took their leave of them.
"Those people," she murmured. "They weren't people."
"He is a dwarf, she is elven," he replied.
"Oh," she murmured, then opened her eyes wide and sighed. "What is your real name, Clark Kent?"
"Thomas, Lord Traveler," he replied. "Sometimes Baron Traveler. Sometimes Bastard. Normally Thomas." He looked at the table. "Hungry?"
"Starved," she looked under the blankets and saw she was dressed in a heavy shift and saw Thomas standing by the bed with a pair of warm slippers and a robe.
"Breakfast is Talmarii tea, my favorite, Varulan juice, eggs and dwarven sausage, I made sure it wasn't too spicy," the bread was baked this morning and the butter is straight from the churn." Nothing tasted quite as she thought it should, but it was all quite good, she drank the juice and felt wonderfully energized. "This is wonderful!" she poured more.
"Careful, each glass is mort of the vital vitamins for a whole day, you just drank the most powerful multivitamin you'll ever find." He smiled.
"If I really am where you say I am, why am I here?"
He drew a lit cigar from his inner breast pocket, ignoring her little smile at his flamboyance. "This world is still in what you and I would call the medieval period, with the exception of magic, our history doesn't have that to add to the mix, but here, medicine is still based on humors and bleeding and herbs and poultices and amputation. Not saying that some of the herbs and poultices don't work, many do, but here a wound is sewed shot, and they hope that's all it needs. Most wounds in battle here are fatal. He pointed to her medical bag. You have the very basics there, and you know what you'll need, and you'll work with the best herbalists magical healers and what passes for surgeons here. You'll teach medicine and surgery and you'll learn about the races of this world and what makes them different from each other. It is the work of a lifetime."
"I won't stay with you?"
"You will at first," he replied. "And I'll visit. But," he paused. "I'm giving you a lifetime here, but I won't grow old with you. You have around a century, I've been here far longer."
"You're immortal?"
"Sometimes it feels like it has been endless," he replied. "But I don't believe in immortality."
"That's a funny place to draw a line in the sand."
"Keeps me humble."
She saw that he was feeling all of those years and pushed back from the table. "Come to bed," she reached out to him. Tomorrow is a good day to start a new life, today is a good day to feel alive."
« Last Edit: March 01, 2015, 02:18:20 AM by Lord Palatine »


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For off-road use only. As seen on TV. One size fits all. Many suitcases look alike. Contains a substantial amount of non-tobacco ingredients. Colors may, in time, fade. We have sent the forms which seem right for you. Slippery when wet. For office use only. Not affiliated with the American Red Cross. Drop in any mailbox. Edited for television. Keep cool. process promptly. Post office will not deliver without postage. List was current at time of printing. Return to sender, no forwarding order on file, unable to forward. Not responsible for direct, indirect, incidental or consequential damages resulting from any defect, error or failure to perform. At participating locations only. Not the Beatles. Penalty for private use. See label for sequence. Substantial penalty for early withdrawal. Do not write below this line. Falling rock. Lost ticket pays maximum rate. Your canceled check is your receipt. Add toner. Place stamp here. Avoid contact with skin. Sanitized for your protection. Be sure each item is properly endorsed. Sign here without admitting guilt. Slightly higher west of the Mississippi. Employees and their families are not eligible. Beware of dog. Contestants have been briefed on some questions before the show. Limited time offer, call now to ensure prompt delivery. You must be present to win. No passes accepted for this engagement. No purchase necessary. Processed at location stamped in code at top of carton. Shading within a garment may occur. Use only in a well-ventilated are. Keep away from fire or flames. Replace with same type. Approved for veterans. Booths for two or more. Check here if tax deductible. Some equipment shown is optional. Price does not include taxes. No Canadian coins. Not recommended for children. Prerecorded for this time zone. Reproduction strictly prohibited. No solicitors. No alcohol, dogs or horses. No anchovies unless otherwise specified. Restaurant package, not for resale. List at least two alternate dates. First pull up, then pull down. Call toll free before digging. Driver does not carry cash. Some of the trademarks mentioned in this product appear for identification purposes only. Record additional transactions on back of previous stub. Unix is a registered trademark of AT&T. Do not fold, spindle or mutilate. No transfers issued until the bus comes to a complete stop. Package sold by weight, not volume. Your mileage may vary. This article does not reflect the thoughts or opinions of either myself, my company, my friends, or my cat. Don't quote me on that. Don't quote me on anything. All rights reserved. You may distribute this article freely but you may not make a profit from it. Terms are subject to change without notice. Illustrations are slightly enlarged to show detail. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and purely coincidental. Do not remove this disclaimer under penalty of law. Hand wash only, tumble dry on low heat. Do not bend, fold, mutilate, or spindle. No substitutions allowed. For a limited time only. This article is void where prohibited, taxed, or otherwise restricted. Caveat emptor. Article is provided "as is" without any warranties. Reader assumes full responsibility. An equal opportunity article. No shoes, no shirt, no articles. quantities are limited while supplies last. If any defects are discovered, do not attempt to read them yourself, but return to an authorized service center. Read at your own risk. Parental advisory - explicit lyrics. Text may contain explicit materials some readers may find objectionable, parental guidance is advised. Keep away from sunlight. Keep away from pets and small children. Limit one-per-family please. No money down. No purchase necessary. You need not be present to win. Some assembly required. Batteries not included. Instructions are included. Action figures sold separately. No preservatives added. Slippery when wet. Safety goggles may be required during use. Sealed for your protection, do not read if safety seal is broken. Call before you dig. Not liable for damages arising from use or misuse. For external use only. If rash, irritation, redness, or swelling develops, discontinue reading. Read only with proper ventilation. Avoid extreme temperatures and store in a cool dry place. Keep away from open flames. Avoid contact with eyes and skin and avoid inhaling fumes. Do not puncture, incinerate, or store above 120 degrees Fahrenheit. Do not place near a flammable or magnetic source. Smoking this article could be hazardous to your health. The best safeguard, second only to abstinence, is the use of a condom. No salt, MSG, artificial color or flavoring added. If ingested, do not induce vomiting, and if symptoms persist, consult a physician. Articles are ribbed for your pleasure. Possible penalties for early withdrawal. Offer valid only at participating sites. Slightly higher west of the Rockies. Allow four to six weeks for delivery. must be 18 to read. Disclaimer does not cover misuse, accident, lightning, flood, tornado, tsunami, volcanic eruption, earthquake, hurricanes and other Acts of God, neglect, damage from improper reading, incorrect line voltage, improper or unauthorized reading, broken antenna or marred cabinet, missing or altered serial numbers, electromagnetic radiation from nuclear blasts, sonic boom vibrations, customer adjustments that are not covered in this list, and incidents owing to an airplane crash, ship sinking or taking on water, motor vehicle crashing, dropping the item, falling rocks, leaky roof, broken glass, mud slides, forest fire, or projectile (which can include, but not be limited to, arrows, bullets, shot, BB's, shrapnel, lasers, napalm, torpedoes, or emissions of X-rays, Alpha, Beta and Gamma rays, knives, stones, etc.). Other restrictions may apply. This supersedes all previous notices.

Opinions in articles, posts and podcasts do not necessarily represent the views of The Fantasy Artists, RolePlayers & Writers Guild, aka FARPWG the Guild.

FARPWG The Guild © 2004-2017 Tim Boothby - All Rights are retained by those posting art, lyrics, messages and articles.

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