|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- BILLION'S DRIFTING--CUP 8--"11-S" <-------  ||  Severe Repair  ||  Billion's Drifting  ||  -------> (Cup SRbd008, Created v2 (6/7/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = After the long and aggravating trip to Greatwall, Ferrajalt finally got Whale to a safe place. Getting away from Walker Fantive and his megalomaniacal rantings was a little tougher. But now, Ferrajalt was free. On the trip here, Ferrajalt managed to make up a convoluted lie about the tock hounds, the false Hilltop Jone Rallity, and the events after the ocean liner hit. He knew Walker didn't believe him, but he didn't care. No way was he gonna let this joker in on the secrets of Daptin's Land and stuff. Now Ferrajalt snuck to one of the middle levels of the Wall, where a bunch of Overwhelm apartments were located. There was an array of mail boxes with people's names on them, and the box numbers corresponded to the apartment numbers. And right there, on box 11-S, was the name "Daptin Gone". Nonchalantly, the Prince ambled down the hallway till he got to the door. He looked around and summoned some superstrength. He should be able to pop the lock and get the door open in a single swift motion, and only a single noise. May as well see if it's unlocked first, though... He turned the handle and found that indeed, the door was unlocked. So he opened it. It swung open and he saw Daptin Gone himself sitting there on his bed. Next to him in a chair was a strange woman. In her hands she held the Cup of Coffee. She had fangs, golden metal tubes and feathers for hair, and a right arm covered in fur. Her right hand had claws. Her nose was very small and flat. She had wide, cute eyes. She had an air of being young, rebellious, and irresistible. She wore a dress made of some sort of white chain mail. Her boots had a bird of prey motif. On the dress, centered over her chest, was the image of a naked person with long blue hair--seemingly a woman, but sex unclear--backside facing the viewer, arms outstretched, as if embracing the unknown. Daptin and the woman stared up at Ferrajalt. "Uh..." Ferrajalt said. "You!" Daptin said, standing. Ferrajalt backed up a step. "No, no--take it easy!" Daptin said. Ferrajalt sighed. "I didn't think you'd be here." "I'm surprised to see you here, too, my friend." Ferrajalt made a puzzled look, then glanced over at the woman. "How'd you get here?" Ferrajalt asked Daptin. "Come on in and I'll tell you the whole story." Daptin said. "By the way, I want you to meet Agatha Petunia Wack--former member of Pseudoairport. She's agreed to help me retake my Land." "Hello." Ferrajalt said hesitantly, entering the room and sitting in a big chair. "Hi." Agatha responded in a husky but attractive voice. "Hafta tellya, Ferrajalt--" Daptin said. "You killing Red Archer Booze was the smartest thing anyone ever did in my Land. My resurrection of her was the stupidest." "What do you mean?' "Sleap Drassy was planning on stealing my Land from me and booting me the hell out. Only thing is, the Sleapster fell under Booze's bottle, and I still got booted out. Now my Land is one big orgy. And when the orgy ends--the orgy which Sleap sees only as a delay--she'll begin to execute her final plan." "What's that?" "She's going to tear a hole in Gnoboslast--the place at the very edge of Creation--and finally see what's really out there." "Is that a bad thing?" Ferrajalt asked. "Yes." Agatha said, with a tone of finality. -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----