Date:         Sun, 14 Dec 1997 17:44:02 EST
From: Pat Fish1 <PatFish1@AOL.COM>
Organization: AOL (http://www.aol.com)
Subject:      Re: INT: Emjays - A Dose of Magic

Someone tell me what this person is running for.

Pat<<<wanting to send in her votes.



In a message dated 97-12-14 16:52:41 EST, you write:

<<
 Sitting in the multi-colored tent that she had recently erected next to a
tree
 somewhere on the vast grounds of the realm called WRITERS, The Lady
 In Black tapped her foot slowly against the dirt floor.  She was bored.  So
 incredibly bored.  The land had been but a veritable wasteland for days.
 Aside from a bit of campaigning for list flirt, there had been very little
 activity from all factions.  Indeed, even her loyal hound Percival had been
 lulled into a docile state. He now lay at her feet, tongue lolling, red eyes
 glazed over with inactivity.

 Niniane patted the large beast's head soothingly.  "There, there," she
 soothed him, "something exciting will happen soon... you'll see."

 Percival raised his huge head and surveyed her with a dubious look.

 "Or... maybe it won't," she added, rising to her feet.  "Unless we MAKE
 something happen."  Winter Solstice was but a few days away.  Why not
 begin celebrating it now? she wondered.

 Shedding her voluminous black cloak, she moved toward the fire that she
 kept perpetually burning.  Sitting down crossed-legged before it, she pushed
 her long, dark hair out of her brown eyes and gazed deeply into the gyrating
 flames.  And she began to recite the words that had been passed down to
 her from the centuries:

 "Actos... fui ta.. nathrak... heitos... actos... mis ta... nathrak..
leitos..."

 The fire began to shimmer; the flames began to dance more violently,
 thrashing against the warming air.

 Over and over again, Niniane repeated the words, in a low, throaty voice...
 words born of a tongue long forgotten.

 "For you, friends," she murmured, staring into the flickering flames as if
 hypnotized, "I send gifts..."

 For poor broken Dustin, lying prone, smoking dried weeds to ease his
 pain, she sent a spell of healing.  "It will not last long, for my spells are
  not
 quite that everlasting... but for the briefest of moments, you will forget
 your aches... forget your worries... and feel only the warmth of an unseen
 lover's embrace..."

 For Barbara/Hagatha/Bunny, fair mistress of the Haven, she conjured up
 a special package.  Once opened, the wooden box would reveal a gown
 more lovely than most eyes could bear... in whatever style, color, or design
 that the recipient so desired.   "For one night, you shall be queen of your
 castle... and all shall look upon you with an envy surpassed only by their
 own awe..."

 For the old Celtic poet, she created a pewter teapot, one that would supply
 endless cups of smooth tea, brewed to perfection.  "Enjoy this well, old
 poet, for it will last but one day... but what a day it will be... to feel
the
  sweet elixir of your favorite brew sliding down your throat in satin
rivulets
  of
 warm satisfaction."

 For sweet young Robyn, who she knew would not hear her for her grief
 had taken her away, she sent a spell of comfort, one that would soothe
 her troubled thoughts and steady her aching heart, at least for a little
 while.

 For Gary, list-flirt-campaigner-extraordinaire, she cast a spell of
  acceleration.
 Soon, the counter on his campaign webpage would begin to spin madly
 as it sought to keep track of the frantic pace at which votes were flooding
in.
 "There are no guarantees that this tally will last until the ballots have
been
 counted... but if you wish hard enough, anything... anything at all... can
 become so..."

 For LL, poetess, word-weaver, she spun her own thoughts into a curious
 shape... a pen and notepad constructed entirely of chocolate, a very special
  chocolate that contained no calories, no fat...yet tasted just as good as
 anything even the Swiss might produce..  "Nibble on this, whenever it all
 becomes too much for you, whenever you need to disappear into the
 seductive hold of sweet confections... for a single day of your choosing,
 it will always replenish itself."

 By this time, The Lady In Black was very tired.  Her eyes were burning from
 the smoke of the fire.  She closed them, and bowed her head.  For now, she
 needed to rest, to wait a while for her strength to return.

 Percival walked over to her and placed his massive head in her lap.  His
 great tongue darted out from between his powerful jaws to lap at her hand.

 "It's all right, dear-heart," she told him, scratching the black hound behind
 the ears.  "I just need to rest for a while.  There is still so much more to
  do...
 So many more gifts to distribute..."



  >>