From: Jennifer.M.Collins@dartmouth.edu (Jennifer M. Collins) Subject: Nope, Not Molly... Date: 26 Aug 92 01:38:06 GMT She pushed the door to the Chat open, hard, and strode in, letting it hit the guy entering close behind her ... too close for her taste. He swore at her rather loudly, calling her an unconsiderate bitch. She turned about quickly on the heels of her black boots, her long braided hair whipping around to hit anyone in the immediate vicinity as she did so... "Excuse me?" she said clearly. As she stared at him with the tiger's eyes of a cat, he looked away. Her well-manacured hands rested on the matte black Ono Sendai she wore slung around her shoulder in its leather case, which sat comfortably on her hip. She tapped her fingernails rythmically ... waiting for his answer. "Nothin'..." He tried to look mean and nasty, but found he was faltering under the piercing gaze of this ... woman. He tried to walk away, but she put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing hard. He tried to knock her hand away and then winced ... from pain. He looked over at his shoulder and watched as, slowly, four sharp, thin blades emerged from under her short black-painted nails ... they began to dig into his shoulder. His eyes were wide with fear, and he was regretting ever having decided to follow this woman. As soon as she noticed a hint of blood on his white tee-shirt, the blades were retracted and her hand removed as though it had never been there. She left four short slices on his shoulder for him to remember her with ... He was shivering and didn't move. "Fuckin' coward." She winced at him, mocking him, and moved both hands to his face, holding his cheeks. "Mind your manners around a lady from now on, asshole. Next time you speak that way to me, I'll remove your tongue." She let all eight blades out to barely scrape his cheek, and then retracted them, and turned away from him, leaving him there alone with the dark stain spreading on the front of his jeans... "Good day, 'eh, Countess?" Ratz asked her as she took a seat at the bar and the plaything she'd left stumbled his way out the door. "Very good, in fact, thank you." She lifted the vodka/grapefruit juice mix that Ratz had placed in front of her and took a drink, glancing into the mirror behind the bar, smiling at Ratz as he replaced the vodka bottle. "You wouldn't believe the business I did today ... " "No, Countess" he laughed mechanically, "I probably wouldn't ..." She was quiet then, and began to look around the bar. "Did he come in today, Ratz?" "Nope. Haven't seen 'im." "Shit." She finished her drink and handed over her credit stick. As Ratz handed it back to her, she stretched her long figure and and adjusted her black leather jacket about her. She then dug into a pocket of her leather pants ... pulling out a simchip. Ratz tried to see which simchip it was, but she popped it into herself too quickly, and walked away. Her black boots rang as her heavy steps carried her to the door. An evil smile grew crept on to her face, and her eyes became those of a cat's again. Ratz knew someone was about to get fucked up. She walked out... ________________________________________________________________________ _______(how's that, strake?? ) ************************************************************************ * * "I'm not afraid of death ... * * almitra * I am afraid of murder..." * * almitra@dartmouth.edu * ClockDVA * * * * ************************************************************************