Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

The night is black and still; or perhaps the day is bright and sunny, but for the occupants of the dark room there is no light. In the darkness, there is no sense of distance or direction or size; all is darkness. Except for the table, which we must arbitrarily call the center of the room; for lack of a better term. Around the table, seated in some manner; whether chairs or stumps or cushions or merely floating upon the air, we cannot see in the oppressing darkness; are the figures. Dark and shadowed, they cannot see eachother; they cannot see themselves. They know not who they are or where they come from... all they can see is the pile of simple white cards placed in front of them; cards which shine through the darkness. Slowly, deliberately, a figure reaches out and flips over a card...

...Frank stood, or wobbled, upon the roof of some guy's apartment. "Some Guy" was the only way he knew his host; they had met when Frank was sober, but that was a few hours ago, and now the name of his gracious and wonderful host was lost in the fog of alcohol. The night was cool, but not cold, and streetlights illuminated the city, mostly deserted at four in the morning. The night owls had gone to bed for the day; the early birds still yet to catch their elusive worm. Even Some Guy lay in a drunken stupor with no less than three girls he had met just this night, comfy and cozy in his own bed. Frank, however, needed a cigarette.

Frank removed his packet of Marlboros; cowboy killers as he affectionately called them, and grabbed his black zippo from his pants pocket. On the fourth try he managed to light his cigarette; though on the second he had narrowly missed lighting his own shirt. He smoked quietly; the tobacco slightly waking him up from his alcohol daze.

Frank stood close to the edge of the building; looking over he could see his car, still parked below, as well as the cars of others. It looked a far way down... especially when intoxicated. Frank resolved that he would come back and make the leap when he could; when he was sober.

While he was contemplating the drop from the seven story building, and resolving to make it some day, Frank was startled by a brilliant flash of blue light. He looked up into the sky, and knew that someone must have spiked his drink. Because, coming out of a tear in the night sky, was a starship; though Frank thought of it as a pirate ship. The ship was made of dark wood, with three masts with white sails attached. The stern of the ship, however, was encased in metal, and twin giant engines stood on the underside of the hull, dimly humming in the night.

Frank was flabbergasted; and passed out...

... and awoke to the sight of a beautiful blue-skinned woman. She had white hair, and pointed ears. She was standing over Frank, and was all he could see. She was also frighteningly beautiful. When he opened his eyes, she called, in an accent he could not place: "Captain, he's not dead! He's just drunk!"

... On the card are two simple words:

Frank Gordon

__________________

A man sitting to the right of the person that just turned over a card let a smile cross his face. Not that the others would be able to see this. He extended a hand that was clad in a white glove he extended his index finger and middle finger sliding the card back towards himself keeping it's face down.

Opening her eyes she looked around at the battle scene, dead were everywhere and even more injured.
"Medic." A voice called somewhere to her far right. She responded immediately running to the two soldiers who were sheltering in a bomb crater. She looked over the soldier that was laying on the ground his eyes were already beginning to pale. She was able to feel his life force failing him and she looked to his partner who held a defensive position over the dying man. "Can you do anything for him?" He asked his voice was panicked as he shot a few more rounds from his gun, large white balls of plasma flying towards their targets and burying deep with in the enemies and then exploding.
"I can only try." She replied as she looked back to the dying man and extended a hand with a half glove on. The bottom of the black glove was removed to allow her to focus her energy to heal. She healed the minor wounds she could find with ease before placing her hands over the center of his chest and focusing with all her mind. The light green glow that emanated from her palms increased to encase the whole of her forearms.
"Thank you." The soldier said in a quiet voice looking to the medic who had obviously used a lot of strength to heal him.
"I shall be fine." She said wandering around looking for others that were injured.

She wandered the battle field her strength depleting as she worked tirelessly to heal all the wounded. It didn't matter to her what side they were on, if they were injured it was her job to heal them. She came across a young alien laying on the ground his life force slowly failing him. She squatted down beside it extending her hands over his chest to heal him. She felt the cool grasp of it's hand around her wrist and looked to it's human like eyes. What she saw there she has never forgotten. She saw true terror in the aliens eyes as it shook it's head.
"I'll help you." she said into the universal translator she carried.
"No. Help need. Dying, No want alone." The alien struggled out. She smiled to the creature squatting still beside it and offering it her water canister which was more then three quarts empty. The alien accepted the water drinking little before smiling to her. "On the day that the three moons rise as one may the gods bless your kind soul" His voice seemed to be released from what ever bound him to the world and his eyes closed as he died.

The battle left her near dead on the battlefield unable to retreat she passed out behind enemy lines. Her vision failed as a soldier was standing over her, She couldn't be sure whether it was a human or an alien nor was she able to find the mental capacity to care. The battle had taken far to much from her, her first time in the field and nothing in her training could've prepared her for such torment. If hell had a place on earth this would be the place.

She awoke to find herself resting in a temporary hospital the other medics had set up. Her sense of duty almost compelling her to run back to the battle had a Nurse not stopped her from moving.
"You've not the energy for that at the moment." The nurse said she was obviously tired her self, this battle seemed to be taking a great toll on every one.
"I must.. The men.. They need me.." She said coughing roughly from exhaustion.
The nurse rounded on her "Your men need someone capable not incapacitated. You've drained yourself to far, We've sent another of our Field medics out, Consider yourself lucky to be alive, It took three soldiers to get you here.." the nurse said walking away leaving her to think.

The card had in the center of it printed precisely:

Field Medic: First Betallion
Hannah Lee Carlson

__________________
Please save my dragon egg

Genderless did the next figure sit, sliding it's palm slowly across the table and scraping nails against it. Too dark to see the emotionless gleam in it's eyes, better yet too dark to see the grotesque grin that was plastered on an all-too-pale face. All that was seen was the white card taken by the bottom corner and flipped over on it's side, as if pondering to lay it flat to reveal something or not...

The toilet was a sanctuary for her - ocassionally after a performance, she heaved her soul into the porcelain, watching swirls of green and orange mix down the drain.

"Ugh..." She muttered to herself, dragging her sleeve across her lips to remove anymore of the acidic residue.

It hurts more than ever tonight to vomit since she decided to down a couple of shots of Absinthe, Vodka and Red Bull but it was what the patrons - if that were a kind enough name to call them, no - if not the honorless, putrid, perverted, sons of bitches she calls customers were not so demanding for her to partake in their games.

What else was a girl to do? She pulled herself to her feet, wiping her lips one more time with her sleeve and spat to get the taste out. Tonight was alcohol, tomorrow would be their saliva or any other bodily fluid. It was what a whore had to do.

"Caramel? Are you okay in there?" A voice called from outside of the bathroom.

"I'll be out in a minute." Caramel looked to the bathroom mirror and stared at her reflection. Noticing her make up was running, she went to work to make herself pretty again.

Pretty again; Put make up on only for them to scratch or rub it off of her face, put clothes on only for them to just tear it off with their teeth - their attempt at being kinky and fulfilling a fantasy.

She chose not to think on it, reaching for the doorknob and opening it to see one of her customers standing in front of the door with handcuffs and a rag.

"Wha-" Was all she managed to get out before he lunged forwards and pressed the chloroform soaked rag against her nose and mouth. She struggled but only inhaled more of it, trying her best to fight it.

Dizziness smashed against her head like a hammer, seeing stars before she saw darkness. It almost reminded her of the night sky....

A chuckle, the holder of the card decided to lay it flat, revealing a print that said:

Caramel Walker

Right next to the genderless abomination, a faceless, shadowed figured reached out into the pile of endless white. Its hands touched the smooth surface of the cardboard and slid the white card inward towards itself, grunting as it moved. With a slight mutter, the figure began to turn its card over...

"Great. Another call of domestic violence," Kyle muttered to himself, blazing the downtown streets of a flashy metropolis in his squad car. The lights flew by him, neon of every color, in a nauseating kaleidoscope of sensation. Shaking his head of any distractions and keeping his eyes on the road, Kyle continued down the street, in a hurry to get things over with.

City never sleeps...

As he drove, Kyle fumbled about his open glove compartment, groping through the scattered object within as heavy metal blared from the radio. After grabbing through a glock, a pack of spent cigarettes, and some receipts, he reached his goal : a small tube of pills. With a deft movement of his thumb, Kyle popped the cap and quickly ingested one of the pills, grimacing as it went down.

Hope this'll do something for my head that the lights aren't.

Eventually, the officer pulled up to a small apartment building. The structure was a sorry-looking place, even in the blackness of night in the one place of the city that wasn't bathed in a mosaic of color. Scratched paint, graffiti, rust, and screaming tenants all inhabited the building in great supply, and none of it did anything for Kyle's headache. But, a job was a job. Some moron probably drank a little too much cheap beer and ended up striking his nagging wife once...or twice. Or maybe three times. It was a mess, and Kyle had to clean it up.

As he moved up the stairs to the designated apartment floor, the patrolman was greeted by the sight of various onlookers forming a blockade around an room door. Seeing Kyle approach him, one of the bystander's faces lit up.

"He's in there, officer! I heard it - heard it with my good ear! 'I'll kill you, you bitch! I'm sick o' yer back talk!" the man said, a look of excitement on his face as he gestured to the door. Kyle gave the man a nod and waded through the crowd as they dispersed to let him through and made his way to the door in question.

The door was locked. Kyle sighed. He didn't have time for this crap, and his head was throbbing.

"Hey, everyone. Get out of the way, please," he said, waving his hands in the air slowly as eyes fell upon him. After a few seconds, the small crowd distanced themselves from the police officer, whispering amongst themselves.

"Dark times we're livin' in..."

"We shoulda taken care of this ourselves, don't need to get this boy in blue!"

"Mommy, is he going to get the bad man?"

Kyle shook his head again, throwing out the distractions around him. No time to listen to whispers. Reaching for the pistol at his side, he pulled it out of its holster. Then, casually holding the gun in one hand, Kyle shot the door's knob, causing all of the bystanders to jump. The thundering noise of the discharge rang in Kyle's ears, but he didn't care. Not like he didn't already have a headache.

The door creaked open, dust and chunks of wood dripping from its frame as it moved. Taking a deep breath, the police officer walked into the apartment, fully expecting to see a typical scene of a potbellied wifebeater holding a beer bottle menacingly over a cowering woman.

He didn't.

The most macabre scene he had ever witnessed lied before him. Two bodies, so badly maimed that they were unrecognizable, lay intertwined and twisted on the floor, amongst strewn about chairs and a collapsed table, coated in gore. The bodies could have been the man and the woman, but Kyle couldn't know. Were they even human? Their arms and legs had been torn from their torsos, and fresh blood oozed from the sockets. They had 'faces' - but these collections of facial features were so grossly wrenched out of place that they became unidentifiable abominations, above all classification.

Kyle gripped his face and slammed the door behind him, its crash sending a jolt of pain through his throbbing forehead. Thoughts raced through his mind as he looked around the room frantically for some explanation, some clue - anything, anything at all that could give rationality to the madness that just happened. Domestic violence? This was far more than that. No human being - no sane human being could create a scene so horrific, and Kyle knew it. He shook his burning head, trying to dispel the illusion, to wake up from the lucid dream, the awful night terror.

He couldn't wake up.

Schlip. Schlop. Schrop.

The sound of wet, sloppy footsteps echoed their unnerving sound throughout the apartment. Kyle's eyes widened as his body froze. Whatever it was, it was coming around the corner and would show itself at any moment.

Do I want to see this? Those people, I...Nothing makes...

When the grotesque being, covered in unending crimson grime, bearing a human shape and an inhuman disposition appeared, Kyle knew it.

The rules had changed, and the game of life was over.

*************************************
With a slight smirk, the faceless figured dropped its card right side up. A name imprinted in the center served as the only deviation from its immaculate white surface...

Kyle Reynolds
Police Officer

A dark-robed figure resided in his chair, as his hand of bone, reached out to a card.

All around was death and destruction. War cries and roaring bursts of bolter-fire rent the blood-red sky. Figures in archaic armor slaughtered each other relentlessly, hacking away in a righteous fury that was present on both sides. Blood spurted in the air as giant, whirring blades penetrated armor, taking the lives of those within. Shouts of hate and promises of death were exchanged as these giants clashed.A man waded through this fray, his sword swipes clean, his eyes dark and his every stoke a killing blow.
He tore through two of his once-brethren, laying into them with great strokes of his chainsword. As he cut them down, he softly uttered their names," Axyrus, Urient." Reversing his strokes, he smashed his sword-pommel into the face of another foe sneaking up behind him, then as his foe bent double, decapitated him. "Bethor."
Roaring with fury, aimed at his foes, he launched himself towards the enemy. Jumping into their midst, he swung his sword again and again, never stopping, never relenting."Caleb. Temier. Valkus." he uttered the names of those he had struck down yet again.
He stared at the bodies of those he had once called friends, those who had fought beside him for countless battles. Now that they had turned against their liege, their king, they were nothing more than corpses littering the ground, on a battlefield with one too many.
Making his way to the monastery, he slew every traitor he met, merciless in his rage. Smashing his way through the two guards of the monastery, he tackled open the doors, walking in confidently.
Then, all was silent. The inner sanctum was deathly quiet.
A long hallway led to a room at the far end. It was lighted by braziers of blue flame, and the hallway seemed as if it was a road to damnation. Only in the distance could he hear someone's voice, punctuated with the ringing clangs of swords clashing against each other. The man sprinted over the bodies of the dead, loyalist and traitor alike. Finally, he burst through the twin doors at the end of the hall, only to see a sight that made his heart stop......

A neverending grin on his skull, the robed figure flipped the card over. It was a poker card, one of the King. At the very top, was written the name

Luxius Methelas
King

Analysis was irrelevant. There was only one choice to make. With barely a thought he turned over the pristine card.

~

"Let me see a higher burst this time Shannon. We ain't tickling it."

"Yes, Sir."

"That's better. Yes, the chain reaction is beginning. How's the bio's looking?"

"Stable."

"Good, good. Keep it steady. Magnetic array?"

"Holding."

Staring with complete focus at the array of screens in front of him, Paul absently used his lab coat sleeve to wipe away sweat forming on his forehead. In silent flashes the screens continued to churn out a constant stream of stats and recordings. Months of familiarity let Paul take it all in almost absently as he monitored the live video feed.

"Ok, chain reaction is reaching critical. Ready to ignite it." He called out, his hand already poised over the button he'd been desperate to press for so long. The endless months of calculations, research proposals, prototypes, simulations, governmental committee meetings were all tied to the next few seconds but Paul was beyond any form of anxiety. His focus was too committed for such petty distractions.

"And... IGNITE! ...The BIO's?"

"Still stable," his assistant yelled back as the room took on a deep blue glow from the video feed monitors.

"Subject change is beginning, we're looking at a 3% completion. 5%. 8%. It's working. No wait, I'm seeing a fluctuation in containment, keep it steady, we can't lose this now!"

"Compensating."

"Ok good, we're stable again. 14% and rising. This is it."

Just twenty feet away, inside the chamber consisting of four feet solid concrete and three inches of lead shielding, a creature twisted and screamed in it's restraints.

"22%. 26%."

"Sir, I'm seeing a spike in heart rate. It's at 165 and rising. It's heart can't take it."

"Activate the resistance amplifiers."

"Activated. Heart rate stable at 172."

"33%. I'm losing reaction. Give me another burst, 130 RT's."

"Sir!"

"Just do it."

"Burst initiated."

"Good, reaction is speeding up. We're at 41% completion. Just another 30 seconds and we've done it. 47%."

Paul's eyes moved tirelessly from screen to screen. His hands slid across the controls just as fluidly. At the back of his mind he was re-running his recurring dream of the last five years over and over.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. I stand before you today armed with the knowledge that will reignite humans drive for science. That will lift us up from mere ape descendants into a species apart. As of today, we no longer need cast our vision down to this small planet we exist on, but lift our heads and take our part in the cosmos freed of restraint.

"89%. 92%. I'm already reading massive energy generation. It's off the scale! 94%."

Sweat poured from Paul, but it was ignored. Eyes bore into the readouts, desperate to see the conclusion.

"98%... 99%... 100% Completion. WE DID IT SHANNON! An infinitely sustainable power source for the world!"

Inside the chamber the creature's screams stopped with an alien suddenness. No trace of the restraints could be seen, burnt away in an instant. A soft blue glow permeated its entire body as it hung suspended in the middle of the chamber.

~

With a slight gasp of awe he dropped the card face up on the table. "Dr. Paul Mathews, Scientist."

__________________
"The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own satanic herd."

The slightly smaller and feminine figure who was next in line reach out and unceremoniously pulled the next card from the center of the table. The hand tilted the card to a thirty degree angle, as if teasing the others about what the surface held.

Sunshine spilled over the land like a refreshing golden syrup. Birds started chirping with the first signs of a new day, the dew that clung to the bright green grass and leaves of the trees slowly began to evaporate. Somewhere in a small glade surrounded by forest sat a cute little cabin from which a single tendril of smoke rose out of the chimney.

The cabin was made of richly coloured logs. In the glade was a pile of chopped wood and an axe that had been thrust into a tree stump on which the logs were cut. A drying rack held a pulled deer skin that was being prepared to be made into new clothes for a new addition to the family that called this quaint spot home. On the other side of the cabin was a small garden where peppers, potatoes, various squash and beans as well as fruits were growing plentifully. The garden was surrounded by a razor wire fence and a few snare traps to keep the forest critters out.

The cabins door was simple and unadorned and boasted no special ornamentation or welcome mat. It was a simple door that had no locking mechanism. It only required a slight push to open and had you pushed on it you would have walked in, on a normal day, to a small family household. The fireplace would be glowing with a warm golden flicker and a woman with long brown hair and wearing a comfortable day dress would be seated in a simple rocking chair by the fire. Her belly would be pushed out well beyond a reasonable size and very round. In the kitchen would be a black haired well built man wearing a deer skin pants and a cloth shirt. He would be preparing a meal for he and his love out of fresh greens, a newly captured rabbit and some of the few spices the home held.

However, this was not a normal day. The peaceful glade was twisted with terrible screams of pain and low grunting noises. Inside the cabin you would have found blood. The woman would be laying on a bench beside the fire, her legs spread and supported on two stools. The man would be facing the gaping maw talking to her with encouragement and support all the while awaiting the inevitable. She would be the source of the screams and blood would be pouring from her core. This would continue for a long time, with only brief intervals in which she would pause her screaming to breathe and the man would say she was almost done her task. She would curse and continue the grunting and pushing as well as the screaming and bleeding.

Suddenly there would be silence and the man would raise from his crouched position and in his arms he would be holding a babe. He smiles and brings the child to his exhausted love and shows her his lovely shimmering purple eyes. Her face is transfixed with horror and her husband with confusion. He would ask her why she is so afraid of her son and she would demand the child buried. She would then cough once and her flesh would pale. The husband would back away from her holding the child protectively, there would be a babies giggle.

Then a spark, just the tiniest of electrical charges as the child's warped mind would cause the electrons in the air to line up perfectly and the little bit of laughter enough to cause a slight ripple in space that would ignite the line and the spark quickly became a bolt then an arc. The electrical storm follows, filling the cabin with great bolts of blue fire. They strike the cabins and the bear pelt rug. They ignite the curtains and destroy the walls. A great bolt falls to strike the mother. She is not there, there is but a wisp of smoke where her weakened body once lay. The father is dazed, the child becomes frantic. It screams and screeches. Fire bursts from it's mouth as it wails. The father runs from the place, the child wrapped in his arms. On his way past he grabs the deer pelt and warps the child in it as he runs. To where he knows not, he just runs.

* * *

Then you would wake up -- were this your dream. It is not yours but the woman it belongs to opens her eyes slowly. The dream is one that has haunted her since that day the memory was burned into her brain. Since the moment she birthed the Tainted One and the moment her very flesh and blood decreed her death. She had saved herself with the energy she had left after child birth - a complication the demon child would not have foreseen. It had made bringing it to life a difficult arduous task, but she was stronger than it had imagined.

She rolled out of the bed and made her way out of the inn. There was no use in staying put too long for the child would now be turning seven this day and would be on the hunt for her still. She would have to find and destroy her son before he found and destroyed her -- the fate of the world depended on it.

On the card was written two words in what can only be described as crispy lettering:

Orchid Lilly

__________________

The feminine figure of Orchid Lilly reached forward to take her second card. Not so casual this time, the first time had been...hard. There was no reluctance though, just a more determined flipping of the smooth white edge.

~

Rain swept through the bustling town, clearing away the cloying smoke from countless chimneys and the stench of street swill as effectively as a farmhand clearing straw with a broom. Rough stone walls, and log housing alike were washed clean by the driving water as if the Gods themselves were out to cleanse the place.

Somewhere within the strong town walls, a snug but solid stone building, the only one in the town with a fully slate roof, braved the storm with disdain. It'd take considerably more to concern such a well designed construction.

The building was made of expertly hewn blocks, so neatly mortared together the joins were barely discernable. Its dull golden colour contrasted richly with the dusky grey of the slate tiles decorating the roof like a dark icing on a fresh sponge cake. A large oak door, painted gaily in bright red, heralded the entrance like no other portal on the street. Always kept in pristine condition, and opening with the slightest push and not even a hint of a squeak, you'd be forgiven in thinking an army of servants and maids would be responsible for maintaining such an abode.

Inside, all would be bright, as oil lamps and mirrored candles throw out vast shimmering light bouncing softly from plush carpets. Traces of music, a violin or perhaps a harp, would descend from somewhere above, followed by generous laughter and applause. You wouldn't be wrong in assuming a party was well under way.

Making your way up a small, but exquisite, staircase the applause would get louder. Before long it is replaced by the haunting tones of a feminine voice, emotions tumbling through the air, riding her voice like a stallion as she sings of love and betrayal.

More applause and you would final make it to the grand function room, as well decorated as any other part of the house. You catch sight of your hosts. A young couple, the woman clearly the singer from a moment ago. Long brown hair cascades in waves down half her back, natural highlights catching the glow from the candlelight. Her face carries a radiant smile as she nods appreciatively to the applause, but gentle brown eyes belie a hidden discomfort.

She is held gently, but securely, in strong, caring hands. Black hair, attractively unruly, hangs loosely to just above broad shoulders. He is smiling too, looking down at his love, currently oblivious to her unrest.

With the tiniest of looks, and a gentle stroking of one lightly stubbled cheek, she silently lets him know what she wants. He blinks for a second, slowly grasping the meaning before turning to their guests and quietly thanking them for coming as he escorts them out. Some protest the early hour, wishing to wait out the weather but he is persistent and they eventually accept. Some stumble to the nearest inn, whilst others quickly crowd into awaiting carriages to take them home.

The red door closes and he takes his love upstairs to their bedroom. He catches sight of a timid smile from beneath her hair and swears for a second it had been a smirk just a second before. She is horny and had been waiting long for this evening. With dismissive casualness she flicks the straps of her gown off her shoulder and lets the entire thing fall to the ground. His gasp of pleasure at the sight fills her with need. She goes to him, drawing him toward the bed unbuttoning his tunic on the way.

"Give me a child," she whispered in his ear, golden voice a rich caress. "Give me your child, and take me away from this false life."

"Take you where?" He breathed, laying her down on the soft bed and kissing her neck.

"Far away, just us, alone forever as a family."

It seemed to him they were already alone forever in those next few minutes. He lost himself in the act, making love to her with a passion unknown to him; totally unaware of anything else but her skin, her body.

Spent, he lay exhausted next to her as she hummed softly in his ear and stroked her hands through his hair.

"I can feel him, feel him inside already." She murmured. "Thank you."

~

With a flush, unseen in the blackness, the card is dropped to the table. Words are printed in the centre.

"He is conceived."

__________________
"The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own satanic herd."

The room is still; as still as it has been, as still as it will be. Yet... something has changed. Now, instead of mere darker shapes in the blackness, Hannah, for that is who she must be, can almost make out features on those near her. She pauses a moment to look at them... just a moment. Then, she turns a card...

...The bulletin had gone out two weeks ago; by computer, word of mouth, and of course on the nightly news broadcast. All women between the ages of sixteen and forty born with the Gift were to report to their nearest recruitment station.

The Draft had been expanded. On Hannah Lee's sixteenth birthday.

Hannah left her mother in tears; crying and pleading in vain "my baby, stay with me! You're all I have left!" But Hannah knew this day would come. The Interstellar Wars had been going on for so long... and she could help. Perhaps if there had been a Gifted woman around when her father... No matter. It was her duty. Hannah had a strong sense of right and wrong; and to do her duty was right.

The station was not crowded truly, but there were more bodies there than had been in years. Young girls and full grown women alike filled out paperwork in government issue blue pen, signing their name at the bottom. Then, they went through the little red curtain, and into the back.

Here were the enormous showers; rough men in military uniform, ashamed to be stuck here on Earth roughly tore the clothing from the women's backs, and washed them with coarse soap. Hannah would have preferred if they had looked at her longingly, or even touched her lustily; at least that would have seemed human. Instead, they were like rough machines, touching each woman just enough to clean her; no more, no less.

Then, her hair still hanging wet around her face; her fair skin slightly red from the scrubbing, Hannah was sent through another curtain, into a room with a woman, who examined every inch of Hannah's body, taking notes and occasionally asking questions; "Is that a birthmark or a scar?". If the fact that she was a woman was supposed to make her seem more comforting, or approachable, it did not. Hannah vowed right then and there to never treat people as just another piece of meat.

When that ordeal was through, she was sent into yet another room, where a man behind a desk questioned her about her powers; when they manifested, if her parents had them...

... five rooms later, five rooms of being examined and stared at and not once being told "you're pretty" or even an involuntary reaction to her nakedness, Hannah was now ushered into another room, where a man sat behind a desk, and another naked woman waited.

She was everything Hannah was not. While Hannah was the youngest girl there, this woman was likely the eldest. Dark haired compared to Hannah's blond; tanned skin as opposed to Hannah's fair. The woman's substantial breasts hung slightly from the effects of gravity, her hips were wide from birthing.

"My my, you're a pretty little thing, aren't you girl? I sure hope I get a chance to introduce you to my son; you're just his type," the woman said, extending her hand. Hannah was so relieved by the human contact, and relieved also to be told she was pretty. Being paraded around for three hours naked in front of a bunch of men who didn't react, when all her life she had been told repeatedly how pretty she was, was rather disconcerting.

"I... That might be nice ma'am," Hannah replied, taking the woman's hand.

The man at the desk cleared his throat, interrupting the two women. "There will be time for idle chit-chat later. Now, you two are here to demonstrate your Gift. Nothing fancy; you will each prick yourself with the knife on the end of the table, and the other will heal you."

Hannah did as she was told, pricking herself, and the woman closed her eyes. A slight green glow appeared around the woman's hand, and she raised it and touched the wound, which rapidly knitted itself back together. Then Hannah handed the knife to the woman, who pricked herself.

Hannah closed her eyes and summoned her Gift; the well of green deep within her soul. Her eye still closed, she felt the woman's wound, and raised her hand, and a small portion of her green, and healed it.

"Well done," the man said, "Through the door on your left. There you will find uniforms. In the room past that are your temporary rooms, where you will wait for transport tomorrow. You two are automatically roomates."

The women walked through the door in silence, but when they were through the woman began to talk again: "Woah damn girl! You've got some hefty talent there... I feel a whole year younger!"

"Oh, it was nothing really..."

"Oh, now hush up and don't be modest. I'm Rachel Carlson."

"Hannah Lee. Do you see any underwear?"

"Nah honey. Men, they don't understand how important that sort of stuff is. Grab an extra shirt, and I'll tie you up like a diaper; used to use em when I ran out of Huggies. Then, you do me, K?"

...The card made a slight slap as it hit the table. It was a face card; like a playing card.

It was the Queen of Hearts

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The man had begun to smell faintly of cigarettes, this became instantly aware to him and at the same moment he became aware of the others who were beginning to show features. They were slowly taking shape. He reached out and with a brief moments hesitation flipped the next card...

"I don't understand this shit." A man was standing looking out through a vacancy in the ships hull at the world floating below them, "where's the glass?"

Behind him a young female stood, you knew she was female by the way her body was so elegantly curved and the two appropriately sized bumps beneath her skin tight green uniform. Her flesh was a pale blue and shimmered silver when light struck it at the correct angle. Her eyes were tilted upwards and carried a mystic purple tone with swirls of yellow dancing within them. She had no hair on her head and ears that were longer than a humans and ended in a shallow point. As he questioned her she simply smiled and spoke in soft and deliberate tones, like one would speak to an infant; "I have told you before Frank, it's a kinetic barrier."

The man, who was dressed in a similar uniform but of gray in colour and not nearly as skin tight, turned and faced the female. His face was twisted in a complicated expression of disbelief and confusion, "right right, I recall." He stepped to her side and turned back to look at the large green orb that hung in space below the orbiting ship, "so where are we now?"

The female moved herself to the cell door and waved a thin hand over a senor which caused the metal door to slide silently into the wall. Once outside the cell she beckoned for Frank to join her and proceeded to answer his question, "That is Coresian, a commerce planet. They are traders who gather goods from traveling ships and sell them to other ships. Of course there is a profit and that is what they live on. We need to resupply and the captain has decided you will accompany the ground crew." She turned and led Frank down the smooth hallway that had no visible torches but was somehow lit with pure white light.

"Right." Frank muttered under his breath, though he knew he was incapable of muttering silently enough for the females finely tuned ears to not pick up, "why was I going down again?"

"Because she feels you cannot live your life without experiencing the Universe. If you are a member of the ship you have to do something useful."

Frank rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand along his jaw line. His beard was once again returning, he would need some blades of some sort to attend to it again as the ones they got him at the last planet had dulled. "Think they'll have some smokes. I could go for some smokes." He though aloud.

The female just kept on her path, leading him to the docking bay where the ground crew had already assembled and was awaiting him. She would also be joining them as his personal bodyguard - or baby sitter more specifically. She didn't know exactly why the captain had decided this was the one they wanted, but it was not her place to question the captain's orders.

The crew was made up of six members including Frank and his female guardian. The other four were young males who were familiar with the procedure of dealing with commerce planets. They were all around six feet tall and carried the signature curved blade weapons of the ship on their backs. They had reminded Frank of a child's game wherein the children used these curved scoops to toss a ball back and forth, but in this case instead of a ball the scoops were used to throw these strange bundles of blue and yellow energy that disrupted the internal organs of biological organisms. He had only seen them used once and preferred not to see it again.

Upon the arrival of the two the crew ushered them into the landing pod, which reminded Frank of a dingy boat with it's black wooden hull and mast. Though he now knew the hull was not made of wood but instead a material called Tungterine which was more durable and reliable than the most expensive alloy back on Earth. He had taken in a lot of information from these strange creatures since they abducted him, and to his surprise they seemed to want to integrate him into their society instead of sticking probes and the like up his anus. Of course that wasn't anything he was unhappy about, but unexpected. He was even beginning to feel some kind of carnal attraction to this green uniformed girl who had been assigned as his guardian. She was like that hot baby sitter you had when you were ten that you thought new and dirty thoughts about that had never occurred to you before you accidentally strolled into the bathroom while she was making use of it. Or maybe that was just Frank. In any case he caught himself wondering more than once if she was similar in construction to a human female, and even if she wasn't what methods she would be able to employ to meet his male desires.

The pod rumbled for a second before it sailed out of the bay and into the depths of space on a collision course with the surface of the planet below them. Frank took a moment to examine the universe around him. He could see distant specks of stars and globes of varying colour that made up the planets of this particular system. He knew that somewhere in that blank vastness was Earth, that place that had been literally stolen out from under his feet. They had yet to tell him why the kidnapped him and when he was going home -- if ever. If there still was a home.

The planet loomed up before them and he sighed inwardly. He wasn't built for this kind of thing and the moment they entered into the atmosphere the g-forces that were pushed onto his body and everything therein forced him into the realm of unconsciousness.

The text on the card looked like it was dutifully scrawled by a child and read:

Lost in Space

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