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Messages - Ripple in Time

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The Shanachie Theater / Re:
« on: June 26, 2019, 11:58:33 PM »
Rick and Catie Harker were a little nervous for this performance. Their parents reassured them that they were going to be just fine. While the piece they chose had been intended as somewhat of a romantic one, Catie was not comfortable doing the leaps and lifts with anyone but her brother. They danced to "Time of My Life."

The RhyDin Post / Re: Commercial Ads
« on: February 17, 2019, 10:17:33 PM »
News from the ROCBG in Dragon's Gate

Rhydin Botanical Garden will be hosting classes in the conservatory building on beekeeping and honey gathering during the first week in March 2019. Honey will be available for sale during that time.

A new greenhouse and outdoor garden plots for public use will be opening on 21 Mar.

Swimming classes for all skill levels and ages will be held on weekday afternoons 2pm-4pm and evenings, 7pm-9pm. Weekend sessions are 9am-11am, 1pm-3pm, and 5pm-7pm.  Appointments may be arranged for other hours.

The RhyDin Post / Re: Commercial Ads
« on: November 22, 2018, 10:02:18 PM »
Holiday Assistance Requested!

Anyone wishing to aid Rhydin's Governor, Pharlen VonTombs, with the planning, etc. for Winterfest activities is asked to contact her at the Governor's Office or by private missive. Those interested in donating items or services for door prizes and/or raffle items are also asked to use the same contact methods.

The RhyDin Post / Re: Commercial Ads
« on: July 06, 2018, 09:15:43 AM »
Well Child Clinic

During the week of 15 -21 July 2018 during the hours of 8am - 10 pm, West Side Old Market Urgent Care will be holding a walk-in well child clinic. Loose fitting clothing should be worn and please report any known allergies to the triage nurses.

The RhyDin Post / Re: Commercial Ads
« on: November 24, 2017, 09:21:30 PM »

Community Events / Re: Fright Night (2017) - Costumes and More
« on: October 27, 2017, 10:11:23 PM »
She looks ghostly, but is she a ghost or a living being pretending to be one?

The RhyDin Post / Re: Commercial Ads
« on: September 17, 2017, 10:47:11 AM »

(( Please PM the player of Elaine Aqua if you have any questions.))

The RhyDin Post / Re: Commercial Ads
« on: August 03, 2017, 12:38:48 AM »

The RhyDin Post / Re: Commercial Ads
« on: June 25, 2017, 04:59:48 AM »

((Author's note - This NPC business is freely available for the use of the community in stories with the exception of its total destruction. The owner is Chester Adams, a middle aged widower with three daughters.))

Memories and Other Dances / Re: Sublimation: Another Day In ... (NSFW)
« on: January 13, 2014, 12:06:58 AM »
Darien's mouth closed before he said something he knew he would regret. Finally, though with some reservation, he slid the weapon into the shoulder harness concealed beneath his leather jacket. "What're y'gonna do, then?" he asked, eying the computer from outside the study, thrown off by the context of the message playing from its speakers.

"Turn that sound off, that's first thing I'm going to do." She moved through the library into Colleen's study. It was familiar ground. She turned the sound loop off then stared at what was on the desk. "This is worse than I thought." Morrigan gestured to the neats stacks of photos and notes on the desk. "How much of this have you ..." her words trailed off a moment as she lifted up a faxed copy of an article from newspaper's archive, "seen." The Post had been closed when Colleen and Madison were snatched off the streets of Old Temple. The headline was from the Star's End Chronicle, "Body Found in Dockside."

25 July 2012

Remains of a murder victim found in Dockside have been positively identified as Colleen Fenner.  Cause of death has been ruled as exsanguination via the carotid artery aided by drowning. The family has asked for privacy during this difficult time.

Her hand moved to her throat. She remembered all too well that glittering knife that was the harbinger of her own ending. A second article page had been under the first.

2 August 2012

In a private service, Colleen MacLeod Fenner was laid to rest in the rose garden of the family home near Dublin, Ireland. She was the wife of Darien Fenner, investigative journalist with The RhyDin Post.

Mrs. Fenner owned several businesses including Navarra Farms and Plant Nursery. She was the chairman of the MacLeod Foundation which supports several charitable causes.

In addition to her husband, Colleen is survived by her children, grandchildren of several generations, nieces, nephews, and cousins.  She was preceded in death by her parents, grandparents, two sisters, two sons, and a daughter.

The family will hold a public memorial in Rhydin at a later date. The family has asked that in lieu of floral tributes that contributions in Collie's memory may be made to the Rhydin Orphanage, Riverview Clinic's Pediatric Wing, or other organizations benefiting children.

She started digging for something, it had to be there. She knew Diana would have saved it. Morrigan's own husband was never shown the contents of a particular package. Was it possible that Colleen had never shown it to hers either? On top of the large padded envelope marked Photos - Do Not Bend, she found a print out of selected portions of Marc Franco's blog. Her eyes moved over them, one at time.

The first group had been dated May 18 2012, May 26, 2012,  and June 1, 2012.  Each one dealt with fingers being pointed at Darien and who he might or might not be bedding. The two remaining carrying a more sinister theme. They placed Darien as not just a person of interest in the disappearance of his wife and daughter, but as the likely instigator.

[size=9]June 30 2012
3. Tragedy in the MacLeod-Fenner family! It's hard to miss the missing person flyers all over town but just in case you have been under a rock over the past week, this is DEFINITELY a need to know item! According to their family, Collie MacLeod-Fenner and her five month old daughter, Madison, are missing! The pair was headed to a doctor's appointment but never made it. Their car was found abandoned in the Old Temple district and there hasn't been word from them since. All of this comes amid rumors of her troubles with her husband, Darien Fenner, who is all sorts of shades of shady. Her children have complained that he's been seen hanging out far too much with other women, not paying attention to his wife or child, and there's rumors of a drinking problem. We sure hope they're okay but we sure hope that the Watch is looking at the most obvious suspect!

Jul 22, 2012
1. We're Starting To Lose Count. So in this week's NOT DEAD files, it seems that Collie MacLeod-Fenner is NOT dead.... and, yeah, we think this is one for the NOT DEAD file, not the UNDEAD file. Biiiig difference. Anyway! Collie was reported missing by her family several weeks ago and then there were rumors that a body washed up looking quite like her's. There was also some talk that her husband, the ever so shady Darien Fenner, was behind her disappearance and possible murder! Things had NOT been looking sunny in that marriage before her disappearance but it seems that this brush with death has changed all of that. They were spotted together in the Inn one night this past week hanging out together with friends (although we use the term loosely in Darien's case), including Aja, Yeardley, and Audrey. Collie was overheard saying that being told to come claim your dead wife's body can change your priorities. We wouldn't speak too soon if we were her. Give it some time. That dog will be right back to his old tricks!

Her mind was working on a puzzle. There was a piece that didn't fit into place. Sliding the packet of photographs toward Darien, she said, "These arrived after you departed and before she was taken. I doubt she ever showed them to you. Some are pretty damning as far as proof of infidelity goes." Morrigan withdrew one photo in particular from the package and pointed out the date and time stamp with the tip of her index finger. "I remember that date well. I had an argument with my husband, the next morning, which included his vehement denial of having an affair with at least one business associate. Yet," she tapped the backs of her fingers against photograph on the desk, "there are  you are with your ear as a woman's dessert." She was quiet for a moment or two as she glanced out the window. It was still snowing. "My husband left that same morning. I never saw him again." She moved her hands behind her neck to open the clasp that held the beribboned cameo in place. The choker had hidden what was once an ugly gaping wound. A skilled mortician had closed it,  "I never found out ..."

"You should read these, Darien." She suddenly moved her head like a raptor that was tracking its prey. Something had triggered instincts that were long out of use. "Son of a sailor's mother in Galway," she muttered. "Tell me something, Darien, will you? If your wife said that she wished you'd never gone to that warehouse, what would you say to her?"

As he took in all her state - the macabre choice of gown, pale and her neck stitched up like some gruesome ragdoll - Darien understood what Morrigan was. She was a choice, or a possibility that the Nexus had produced. From an infinite number of possibilities, he had to meet this one. Little regard was given to the literature on the desk, however engrossed in it Morrigan was. Darien had no interest in possibilities, only realities. And that left only one thing to do. "I'm sure I could point 'er in your direction."

She chuckled humorlessly as she put the choker back in place. "You're just the same as one of your counterparts, Darien Fenner. You turn over every stone, look under every rock, and oft forget the moss that grows upon them. I said I came to her for help and received it. I also said she's the one that calls me Morrigan. That, Mr. Journalist, should have told you that she already knows that I'm here." The laptop chimed again, the reminder that mail was waiting.  "You see, that's what she said to the man that was in hallway a bit ago. Had it been you, you would have known what she was talking about. He didn't." The Nordstrom return information caught her attention. "What the hell would she be getting from them?" Unlike Colleen, Morrigan didn't hesitate. She opened the e-mail and read it. Her face twisted into a pained expression as she read. "So, the nightmare has become a reality." Almost reverently, she closed the laptop with both hands. "Arís, ní mór an bhean tarrthála í féin," the words were almost like a prayer.

She was silent as she listened to the Westminster chimes in the front hall striking the hour.  Morrigan picked the microcassette off the desk, the diminutive item fit within her palm. She gazed down at it. "Such a tiny little thing, don't you think?" Her fist closed around the audio tape. "In and of itself, it's innocuous. Yet the words recorded on it caused more pain than anything he did or could have done to us." The plastic casing creaked as her fist tightened.

Her quiet words held the cold of grave, "When you have survived being drugged, tortured, terrorized, and raped without letting go of your sanity, one of the few things that will break you, break your mind, is being shown the betrayal by the one you love most." With no fireplace in the room, Morrigan rolled the wick of a candle between her fingers. The filament sparked to life in a bright flame. "To escape from that pain, you pray for death, and you welcome oblivion." She held the offending thing above the flame and waited a moment. Morrigan set the tape on the desk and opened a drawer.  She retrieved a micro recorder, plugged the tape into it, and pressed a single earphone into one of her ears.

As she listened, her already pale skin became ashen just like her counterpart's had not long before. A memory was awakened, her body remembered being ravaged. She remembered every word that had been played for her while Randy Vickers tore into her; unwelcome and uninvited. That had been embellished some, but this was the raw conversation. Morrigan drew in a ragged breath. Even after all the time that had passed, the talk of infidelity between a man and a woman to whom his wife had given her trust cut through her like a carefully sharpened weapon. Colleen's voice rang in her ears as her own filled her memory.

Her expression had run the gamut between hurt, rage, sorrow, and, finally, acceptance; stages of grief. Quietly, she clicked off the machine and set the earbuds next to it. When she looked upon Darien Fenner, Morrigan's countenance held a look of disappointment. Her hands were held out, palms upward in a gesture toward the small machine on the desk. "I," she hesitated briefly as if reconsidering her options, "cannot help her." Her next words were a mix of cantrip and prayer, "Of all the things that I am able to do, I cannot mend a heart broken in two." Silk rustled as she started to move past Darien. "I wish you well," she whispered as once again the incoming mail chime sounded through the laptop's speakers. This time, however, Morrigan resisted the temptation to look at it. She paused in her exit to glance over her shoulder. "She's one of two places. Where I ended or where the two you nearly ended before you had truly begun."

She had anticipated some kind of retort from him. "It's what I would do." A minute later, she was gone.

((Note: Portions of the Gossip GangSTAR were used with the permission of Marc Franco's player))

Memories and Other Dances / Re: Sublimation: Another Day In ... (NSFW)
« on: January 13, 2014, 12:01:33 AM »
It was far too silent inside when he finally made his way inside the house. Far too silent, and far too empty. The blinking lights on the banister seemed unnatural, the floorboards cold despite the embers dying away in the hearth. The home itself was inviting yet unfamiliar - a feeling he'd experienced before. It reminded him of then. That hotel room. When he picked up the phone and had heard Diana's voice, reminding him of what he had left, or rather, what he didn't.

Why was he thinking about the hotel room?

Muscle memory brought him to the unopened bottle of scotch resting on the kitchen counter. Collie always kept it stocked and never questioned him about it. The first dose of anesthetic was administered directly, skipping the glass altogether. When it did nothing to numb the static buzzing of his nerves, he retreated to his study, identical though it was to another office in RhyDin.

A woman soon stood in the hall just outside the study door, her features shadowed by the hood of a royal blue velvet cloak. A study had been made of the man when he entered the house. She was certain which vintage of Darien Fenner this one was. Everyone had telltale markers on or about their person, you just had to know what you were looking for and with a clear head. Colleen's objectivity had been impaired, but hers wasn't. She glanced toward the library door as she realized how she could lure the wolf from his den.

Once upon a time, she had been mistress of this house. She was careful to avoid the boards that creaked or groaned as she moved into the library. A few buttons pushed on the laptop that was still turned on set a sound byte playing.  It hurt to hear it, to relive it, but she was certain the man across the hall never had known it had happened.

"I'll be good, I promise. Just let me go home to my babies." The words were broken by sobs. "Please." It was Colleen's voice, she was terrified.

"Just your babies?" He chuckled lowly. "What about that pig you call a husband?" The answer came from the ghastly voice of her kidnapper.

"You killed him! You showed me that! There' nothing you can do to change it and only makes me hate you all the more!"

That's where you're wrong. I did do something. He was a lying cheat. He'll never do that to you again.

She adjusted the volume and quietly left the library to wait. The laptop had been in the midst of what had been collected.

It took only seconds for the journo to appear in the hallway, steps crossing as he hugged the wall with uncanny expertise when the cloaked woman came into view. The Taurus 9mm in his hand may as well have weighed nothing, so perfectly it fit him, and he aimed it just as well. "Put your 'ands whe'ah I c'n see them," he warned the intruder, his voice even but firm. The message felt clumsy but wasn't. It was something he had said before. Many times, in fact.

Her face remained shaded by the hood, but she lifted her hands up. Silvery rings adorned both ring fingers. "Really, Mr. Fenner? Do you think a gun is the answer to everything that startles you?" Her voice was reminiscent of his wife's, but somehow it seemed older and deeper.

"Only things that breathe," he replied, pistol still trained on her person. The situation had distracted and grounded him, eradicating pesky introspection, and it showed in his demeanor and resolve.  "Turn around slowly and show your face."

Only things that breathe. The words echoed in her head and she wondered if Darien Fenner had any idea how ironic his own words were to her, a dead woman. She turned to face him. "Are you sure that's what you want, Darien?" She moved the hood back. Her snow white skin was a stark contrast to the golden red of her hair. Was this the twin his wife had spoken of? Had she somehow been caught in the workings of the Nexus? When the light in the foyer glowed on her face, it became clear that she was not. Unlike his hurt and angry wife, this woman was the picture of serenity. The blue and white satin fabric of her gown seemed to whisper as she took a step back from him to fully remove the dark blue velvet cloak. The cameo of a mother and child affixed to a blue satin ribbon rested against her throat.

"Collie?" The handgun lowered slowly, against his better judgment. His eyes swung briefly to the front door of the house where she'd stormed out just minutes earlier, then back to her, abruptly narrowing. "Is this some kind'a joke?"

"If only that was case."  Her expression had become rueful. "I was awakened and came looking for answers." She gestured toward the front door. "Unlike that one I saw out there with you, I'm not looking to cause her any unnecessary grief. He reeks of hatred of some kind."

The firearm remained lowered, but he did not holster it. "What d'ya want?"

"I had what I thought I wanted, then things changed." She shrugged as she moved her fingers over the ribbon against her throat. "Life as I knew it was over. One day the Nexus shifted and woke me from my slumber." She stopped and cleared her throat. "You'd think I would have learned to not ramble," she muttered. "I came here for her help. She gave it and now she needs mine." One hand closed over a bracelet on the opposite wrist. "She calls me Morrigan for the Phantom Queen. And I should warn you, there's another running about."

"Another what?"

"Another piece of her. Colleen is what is. I am what might have or should have been and the last of us represents what happens if a specific event doesn't occur at a specific time."  

Darien half-turned, as if looking for more visitors, the handgun finally resting against his thigh. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "This is an' noth'a quirk of the Nexus, uh?" It could be something temporary, if fate favored him, which wasn't often.

"Yes, it is. I want to go back where I came from. I don't belong here anymore." She tipped her head. "Your wife is beginning to think she doesn't either. That other part of you taunting her isn't helping things."

Memories and Other Dances / Re: Sublimation: Another Day In ... (NSFW)
« on: January 12, 2014, 10:28:28 PM »
A light still burned in the window of Colleen's office and a woman's figure was backlit like a shadow. Had she heard the voices? Had she seen the pair of men engaging in a heat discussion? Perhaps, she had. She had certainly felt the anger being raised like a Samhain bonfire.  Eventually, one of them would step through that door and she would be waiting. But waiting for what?

Memories and Other Dances / Re: Sublimation: The Ripples in Time (NSFW)
« on: October 13, 2013, 10:23:40 AM »
"How could you know?" Hope asked in a whisper.

"I dreamed of it," Margaritis replied in kind.

"This should not come as a surprise to you, Hope." Morrigan looked over her companions. "What happened?"

"The plain and simple fact is that the guardian handled things her way." Margaritis folded her hands together.

Hope held her hands out, palms up. "What did she do?"

"She was raised as we were, to put the well being of family above all. Her brother or sister murdered, her mother nearly so." Morrigan lowered one brow. "She executed the responsible party. What else could she do?"

Hope was silent. She knew that no one at the table had the right to pass judgment. At some point, each one had done something she had never spoken of. For most of their lives, they'd dug themselves out of their own troubles.  Finally, she found her voice, "Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get back on that horse."

"It's more than that." Morrigan drew a shawl about her shoulders.  "Murder, in and of itself, is a heinous crime." She rested her jaw in her upturned palm. "To murder your own child and leave its mother for dead?" Silence followed. In the back of her mind, she heard the echo of footsteps on the stone floor of a mostly vacant room. She was aware of the heavy, corded ropes that cut into her wrists. There was, however, no sensation of pain. Morrigan had been in a drug induced paralytic state when she saw the flash of silver in front of her. Had it not been for the mirror that her captor had place across from her, she would never have known her life's blood was gushing from the gaping wound he'd left in her throat. She knew that monster, the one haunting her even in this odd place beyond death, was the husband that left Hope for dead.

Memories and Other Dances / Re: Sublimation: The Ripples in Time (NSFW)
« on: September 30, 2013, 12:58:33 AM »
"I ... endured," Hope said with a sorrowful expression on her face.

Margaritis and Morrigan exchanged looks. To endure was often the greatest triumph. To survive, persevere, and outlast those that would do wrong against them.

It was a few moments before Hope continued, "I don't even remember what we argued over. A harmless flirtation? Something taken out of context? He was jealous to the point of having volcanic rage fits. He pushed, he shoved. He never liked it when people fought back. We were alone in the house that night. I'd sent everyone else away. Holiday events. I thought the privacy might do us some good." She shook her head slightly. "I finally punched him in the gut and started to run. For the child's sake, I tried to get away.  I felt his hands on me. The next thing I knew I blacked out. That, unfortunately, was in mid fall down a flight of stairs." There was a vacant look on her face. She knew she was better off not remembering that fall.

Margaritis sighed and gently squeezed Hope's hand. "He can't harm you anymore."

Morrigan's expression hardened. "He better remain where he is. On all counts."

"Morrigan," Margaritis asked, "what happened to him where you came from?"

"I am not certain when he got there or whose hand dispatched him. I do know that he was committed to the depths of Tartarus."

Hope blew out a breath. She suspected much the same regarding the man that once professed love for her then committed the crime of murdering an innocent. "When I finally came to, he was gone. There were three female voices, they sounded so far away. I  awoke feeling that sticky warmth on my thighs that every woman knows is blood. There was no ... sense of panic or fear. Anger, concern, sympathy, but the others, no." Her eyes closed as she took a sip of the still warm liquid in her mug. "I taught them well, I suppose. They eased my physical pain, but understandably could not take away the pain of loss and no longer feeling the stirring of life within." She tapped her fingers against the side of the mug. "None of them had the skill to remove the stillborn child without harm to me. They remanded me to the care of a trusted physician."

Silence, but not an uncomfortable, one passed as the three considered the woman in question. The general consensus was that it had been a wise choice.

"The youngest of the three voices was gone. I doubt she remained in the house. The older ones would have considered the possibility of his return. I remember being wheeled through sliding glass doors. I heard the eldest of those three talking to a man. She explained the fall and what needed to be done." She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. "I know who it was. He must have been at the hospital for something when he saw us coming in. As the world was going black around me, I heard the voice of the guardian. I ... wish I knew what she said."

"I know what she said," Margaritis whispered.

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