From: pel@maximo.enet.dec.com (Phillip E lujan)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: The lurking of the alien.
Date: 25 Jan 93 17:36:01 GMT
Reply-To: pel@maximo.enet.dec.com (Phillip E lujan)
Organization: Digital Equipment Corporation


lazuli@byron.u.washington.edu (Fred Sloniker) writes:
|>(Yes, it's another post from the mysterious Andrea.  The last for a while.)
[Deletia...]
|>>The alien curiously scans the silk that the Scribe has draped over its
|>>exoskeleton. Longchain organic molecules. It puzzles over the possible meaning
|>>of this gesture for a moment, then decides to return the compliment. It whips
|>>its tail forward and fine threads of clear liquid spray into midair. As the
|>>threads reach the top of their arc, they coalesce into a gleaming network
|>>which falls squarely round the Scribe's shoulders, draping in a manner very
|>>similar to the original silk. It's a pity the resin is still flexible (i.e.
|>>damp and _sticky_). It stretches itself into long threads whenever touched,
|>>sticking to _everything_, and until it dries it refuses to be totally
|>>dislodged. {I guess you could call it a really _tacky_ way to say Hello.}

*Grin*  "Oh, well, seeing the way you handle that resin, I guess this..."
Starknight pulls the star from his chest, throws it at an empty chair.  In the
air, the spinning starburst begins to stretch and deform, finally winding up
as a number of bright, silvery ribbons wrapped around the chair.  "... wouldn't
have slowed you down much.  Tanglebombs are great for restraining someone, but
they don't do any real damage.  Humane weapons... would that they existed today
in RL."
[...]
|>>Well, I've got my answer. Calmness from Laz (well, that's to be expected, his
|>>character and mine _have_ met before), drink offers from Shonias and Scribe,
|>>warning from Starknight (but _not_ an actual attack, the guy checks his facts
|>>first),

"Thank you, kind sir/lady/pronoun of choice...  Fortunately, I'm only rash and
impetuous with words, and only at times."

|>> and some sending up from Scribe. Heh. Well, I'm still a cynic (don't
|>>worry Doug, I'm not trying to steal your thunder), but I guess I'm just a bit
|>>less cynical about _this_ place than I was before.}
|>>
|>>The alien stands up, stretching to its full height, and the sound of the silk
|>>slithering off its angular shoulders and onto the floor is the only sound it
|>>makes. It bows with slow grace, first to Lazuli and then to the patrons of the
|>>Place in general. Then, without warning, it is gone. A standing leap sends it
|>>shooting from the floor high into the rafters. Those with fast reflexes just
|>>catch a glimpse of a swordlike tailspike vanishing into the shadows overhead. 
|>>Psi-sensitives catch a last sending: -=> I'll Be Back <=-
|>>Then all is as it was before the Alien arrived.
|>
|>Laz looks vaguely bemused at the xenomorph's exit, collecting the scarf it
|>left behind and returning it to the Scribe.  "Um, Mike, cancel that salad,"
|>he says, returning to the bar and collecting his cocoa.  He sips it, making a
|>face-- it's gone cold-- then slugs it down in a gulp.
|>
|>Nodding to Thyra, who's finally getting her newsfeed caught up, and up to the
|>rafters, where the xenomorph now lurks, he glances over at the chalk line next
|>to the fireplace, then at the mug in hand.  After a moment's struggle, he walks
|>over to the line, and raises his glass.
|>
|>"Ladies, gentlemen, kindbeings-- to folly."
|>
|>The mug describes a neat arc, not smashing so much as cracking into three or
|>four pieces, adding some ceramic to the glass.  Without elaborating on his
|>toast, Laz returns to the bar, nodding slightly to Thyra, and listening to
|>the noise of the Place return.

>>CRASH!!!<<

Starknight
spr@abo.dec.com
Disclaimer:  Huh?  What'd I say?