Son of the Amazons
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Son Of The Amazons 2: Where Did The Silver Lining Go? free porn video
Son of the Amazons 2: Where Did the Silver Lining Go?
By Ron Dow75
In the valley of Meggido, the battle raged under the full moon:
vampire fought werebeast, as they had since ancient times.
Those that were mammals, every time they had become animals,
would find others to help them tie their strands together. When
the hair came out as their follicles prepared to replace them
with new hair, the old would remain tied to those still embedded
in the skin. The more often they had been animals, the more they
were covered in a tangled mass of clumps. Those species that did
not have very long hair, collected sheddings, and used resin to
lengthen the strands. From the pelts of those lucky comrades who
had died in battle, they had made fur armor; how much of their
first fur was covered depended on many battles they had survived,
and how many fallen comrades they could claim from others who
wanted them. Or won in combat.
Their teeth were filed sharp, especially those who were not
natural carnivores. Those were the ones most likely to still
paint their teeth red. Their clawed and hoofed fingers were also
filed sharp, but also shaped so that what was left of their human
hands could fit the species-specific grips made in their iron
wood spears. The spears had not only been sharpened, but fire-
hardened. And soaked in mistletoe juice.
The vampires wore armor representative of many periods of
history, though mainly of the region around the Fertile Crescent:
Babylonian, Assyrian, Persian, Greek, Roman, Parthian, but also
from every land that had had blond or red-haired mummies:
Northern African, Indian, Chinese, Polynesian, South American,
etc. Why each one wore the style they did usually had something
to do with their own personal histories; either their times of
greatest glory, or an important trophy in some previous contest;
but it could also be a whim, something different to battle in.
There was just one rule: You had to earn the right to wear each
item in this life.
The vampires, too, had sharpened their teeth, some more than just
their canines. Fewer of them, though, still painted them red. But
they, too, had sharpened and shaped their nails to hold their
silver coated sword.
+++
"Die, again, Mithras!!" cried the vampire in the bronze coated
helmet with the bright plumes coming from the long, narrow
trough, bringing his sword down towards the minotaur.
The upraised spear, now acting as a fighting staff, stopped the
short sword. "Bellow. Roar," the large monster said, bringing its
inhuman feet up. "I Still. Have Less-Lives!" The kick would have
killed a mortal form.
Aridne landed yards away. He landed against a jackal-like headed
Anubis just as he was about to bite a vampire in fish-scale cloth
mail armor he had pinned to the ground.
"Your blood is mine!" cried the vampire Icar to the werejackal,
reaching past his head for his lost sword.
The Anubis thrust Aridne at the other vampire. Only the man's
bronzed breastplate saved him.
"Stop getting in my path, or I shall have your blood!" Icar told
his brother, as he shoved the annoyance further away. The
hunching Anubis was snarling, waiting for his opening to attack.
"And I shall take it back. As I always have!" Aridne told his
chief practice opponent, getting to his feet as quickly as he
could, his silvered sword still in his hand. Mithras the minotaur
could have charged. Instead, it had seen an opening to an enemy
that had gotten too close to it, and reflexively used the other
point of his spear to stab the kidney of a vampire whose armor
was only strapped around its torso.
=That is your mistake, Mithras!= Aridne thought, running at him
with his spare sword out ahead of him.
Mithras had seen his mistake before that, and had yanked the
point out of the side of wrong opponent (who still managed to
hack his own, a satyr), and was bringing it in position to skewer
Aridne.
The vampire's small shield deflected the spear, even as he
brought the silvered sword up, and up against his massive chest.
The woven, clumped coat was too thick. Mithras was merely
bruised.
"I Get. Your Life!" It triumphed, bringing its arm around to
crush him against its nearly bull-sized body so that he could
weaken him enough to impale.
And the werebeast was stronger than Aridne was! The minotaur was
slower, more muscle bound; if he could-He brought the hilt of his
sword up-
Mithras ran the sword into its own chest.
It wasn't deep. But it was enough.
What would have been a cry of pain for those not inured to it
over the millennia was from Mithras a cry at its impending
defeat, and all the pain that would bring.
One hand still on the hilt, and using his paranormal strength to
push the sword onward in, Aridne further crumpled up the dried
wolfsbane he'd kept in his left hand during the whole battle.
Mithras knew what was coming, but had left its vampire herb in
the open pouch, tucked inside its fur breeches.
Besides, all that Aridne had were minor cuts. Vampires did not
bleed like others.
The vampire smashed the werebeast herb into the bloody wound in
the minotaur's chest, rubbing it in for good measure.
Mithras felt its defeat, felt its claim to its life lessening,
and, weakening, knelt down on one knee. It looked around. Those
of its fellow creatures that were not too busy concentrating on
their own survival were making as much room as their own battles
would permit.
Only when the giant Mithras bowed its head, did Aridne pull out
the sword. He watched as a form grew within Mithras: from fetus,
to newborn, babe, then tot, young child that aged, adolescence
through to teenager.
Aridne chanted in the Ancient Language:
"No faerie today,
neither fair nor foul;
Be gone your weak soul,
to let in your ghoul;
This is your rightful owner,
now; And to me,
her owner, she must bow!"
As the spirit had taken on more substance, the werebeast had
become less solid, and becoming younger, until, at around
seventeen the minotaur became just a bull, then a calf, a
fetus... to disappear from unaided sight.
Aridne looked down at the female Mithras, and smiled as he licked
its blood off of his sword, "Second blood. You are trapped as a
woman for a fortnight."
The beautiful nude woman looked up at the man defiantly, "Not so
trapped. There are ways to return to my male forms!"
"But none that are of the law, I wager," Aridne said, savoring
the blood before he swallowed it. "And Queen Hippolyta is adverse
to handing out dispensations," he smirked at the well-known
betrayal of that trust, and Hippolyta's lasting and very public
disgrace.
"Wait, then, until our next battle, when I shall reclaim my
blood!" the woman said in defiance.
"In the meantime, I own you. You must bend to my will," Aridne
said, bringing the sword down towards her lovely throat.
"Aye, your slave. --Because you are not man enough! Rape me,
then! Kill me!"
"And grant you your wish? Three bloods, the fourth, the virgin
blood," Aridne quoted, remembering how many times it had happened
to him. "And when my seed has sealed you in your padded cell, you
shall live a long life as my wife. I shall not release my claim
even after I have sucked your spirit dry... I mean to see you as
a zombie."
+++
High above the scene of battle on a carpet sat a teenage man in
cross-training shoes, jeans, and a short-sleeved "FALCONS!
Ramseth H.S." sweatshirt. He was gazing into a crystal ball.
The brunette was so intent on witnessing the event, he did not
react when a teenage woman seemed to walk on air towards him,
stirring up a cloud a leg passed through.
The golden blonde in the long loose dress paused to look down,
not having to look into the crystal. She saw what he saw because
he had opened the way. "How does the battle go, Ioan?"
"The werebeasts have the worst of it," Ioan said, clearly wanting
it not to be so.
"I never saw the sense in becoming animals," Terie said.
"Beasts have superior strength and senses!" His mood required him
to defend those that were the ones mostly losing their blood this
night.
"But they do not have the dexterity, and vision of human forms. I
don't think I will ever allow myself to become an animal."
"'Allow'?! 'Allow'!?" the outside was gone, replaced by some
unoccupied little girl's bedroom. The 3 x 6 carpet in the sky had
become part of a wall-to-wall, again. "It's not like we have a
choice!"
"There are two choices," she smiled at him. "The common one is to
become a vampire. The saner one is the one I chose."
"You chose that way, because you are a coward!!" he rose. "You
refuse to give me a chance to taste your blood! That is the only
way I will have you become a part of my harem!"
She calmly looked up at young man who was four inches taller than
her own 5'8", "There is another 'marriage law', the most ancient
of the Amazon laws."
"No!! I would rather die than become part of your male harem
again! I'd rather endure a millennium of limbo!"
She grinned at him, "You will not be able to escape from me that
way, this time." And, gazing at him with love and a centuries'
long yearning, she said, "You will be my number one husband.
Always."
+++
A foot bounced Alex as he lay on the dining room sectional couch:
"Wake up. Wake up, Alex," His Pop told him. "It's time for your
new training."
"Go away!" he told him, trying to hit him without opening his
eyes, without moving any more than... what were those things on
his chest? One was just compressed against and by a chest muscle.
"Do you feel like taking a whiz, first?"
"I wouldn't, if you'd just let me sleep! Last night was like a
bad dream, I just want-"
=My cock! It's gone!! And my balls! All I got is--=
"Damn you!!" Alex the teenage woman leaped up to attack the one
responsible for castrating him.
His legs were shorter than he expected them to be, and he fell
onto his hands and knees.
"This is why you need new training," Hia steely haired Pop told
him. "Your learned reflexes are still basically your old male
ones."
"Good! That's what I want! I don't want to be this girl you've
turned me into!"
"That's the spirit!" The man in the gray "Coach" sweats told him,
picking him up like the doll Alex was feeling like. Pop easily
tossed the honey blonde over the dining table and into the raised
tan brick fireplace in the corner. "Never forget you're a man!"
His torn and soiled rented tux shirt and pants were now sooty
too; Alex pushed himself forward out the fireplace and onto the
ledge. The action made his tits fall forward, to dangle and
swing. "How can I remember, when I'm this lumpy soft weakling!!!"
Pop had to raise his voice to be heard: "Calm down: Stop using so
many exclamation marks!"
Alex made ready to launch his attack, "Stop using exclamation
marks!!? I just became a girl!! Not just any girl: A princess!!
The nutbag who did it claims me as his bride!! Because 'Mom' said
he could!! And who is she!?!! The high priestess-queen-whatever
of frickin' fight-crazy inhumans!!" Alex raised his voice ever
higher, as he screamed, "And on top of all that: I wet myself!!"
"You can change, after you've beaten me," Pop challenged, his
stance having subtly shifted to 'come and get me'.
Alex knew he was right; in his present condition, he had little
hope of winning.
His right foot up against the edge of the ledge, he pushed
himself into a pounce. Concentrating on where his foot was, not
on where it should be, he landed on floor between the dining and
living rooms. (=Ignore, ignore!= he told himself, still thinking
about the wet pants and alien body.)
Pop turned to face the new angle of attack.
Alex leaped.
But, he landed on the dining room couch (where he fought to
maintain his balance). Knocking aside painting from the wall, he
caught the makeup compact he had hidden behind it.
Too late: Pop tackled him from the rear.
As Alex was made to bend the wrong way across the couch (pressed
up against his wet pants and those blasted tits), Pop's longer,
stronger male arm reached out for the compact. He had made only
one mistake.
Alex drove the heel of his small, slim foot up into Pop's balls.
Hard!
Pop's stifled reaction gave Alex the chance to twist around
enough to point the mirror at Pop.
But his eyes were closed!!
It didn't matter: Pop the man became Pop the woman. (=Did I just
see her grow up? And him grown down??= Alex asked himself. =It
happened so fast.=)
"That's one thing I like about the change," the now brunette with
the red streak said in his now alto voice. "Anything that happens
to a body stays with that body!"
She took the compact away from Alex before he could get over what
he saw. "I'd wondered what you'd done with that."
"You won't find that penlight, either!" he challenged her. (=Why
can't I think of her as a him?!=)
"The penlight?" Pop smiled, holding onto the compact tightly in
her larger palms. "The sun is out. I have all day to get to it."
"The sun?!" Alex looked at the morning light coming in through
the bay window of the living room.
"No: Not now," the woman said, wrapping her arm around Alex's
hourglass waist. "You haven't won, yet!"
Alex discovered, yet again, that a girl had a different center of
gravity. It was no longer in his chest, but in his belly; most of
his upper body strength was gone; what remained of his weight and
muscle mass was mostly below that ridiculously narrow waist.
As Pop's free arm twisted Alex's good left one up his back (=But
I'm right handed!!=), Alex kicked his legs up and down as far as
he could, while wriggling and writhing enough to use his new
shifting center of gravity as a weapon against the woman's (who
had her own retraining to do).
It worked well enough for Pop to have to get a new grip around
that thin waist. "Maybe I should've let you cramp up from the
conflicting reflexes!"
Alex's feet got close enough to the floor for him to... Thrust
with enough force to make Pop fall backwards. More center of
gravity attacks, and Pop was headed for the carpet.
Pop refused to let go; Alex was going down still in her grips.
And she was trained enough to begin the roll that would put Alex
on the bottom of the pile.
His socked foot struck the floor before he thought it should. But
that was because it was not his old foot. Then a knee; again it
was the shorter girl's. He was going to land on those out-front
tits!
He slammed his other foot and knee out at his side hard enough to
hurt, maybe even bruise, them! He used them to shove his weight
against his Pop.
They didn't stop until the small of Pop's back had hit the corner
of the end sectional.
Alex scrambled forward, straightening the arm bent up his back.
Twisting his wrist free, he ricocheted off of the wall beneath
the window beside the glass block wall with the bric-a-brac
shelves.
Rising, he leaped over Pop's grasping hands, and jumped on and
over the sectional couch.
The living room was smaller than the dining room, and besides the
built-in book case, on one side, and the stuffed chair and
footstool, on the other, was a round bay window seat with
pillows.
He put one knee up on it, and held out his puny female arms to
catch the morning's light. Its warmth touched his heaving bosom
(and his wet...)
"Here... Let me help you!!" Pop cried, as she slammed into him -
Sending them both through the main window.
The hurt disappeared as soon as the girl began to ungrow; Alex
could almost feel when his male self passed her, and grew to take
her place.
=Man, it felt good! Men are so much more...= Pop, also harder,
larger, and weightier, than before, landed on top of him.
"Are you crazy!!?!!" the now red-head with the blonde streak
cried, using all of his anger to throw Pop off of him.
Pop landed on the grass over a yard away.
"This house is rented!!" Alex said, glaring at the lunatic, while
pointing at the smashed window. "I thought the guy was somebody
you got favors from!! What's he going to say, when..." That's
when Alex glanced over at the "smashed window".
The all too familiar looking Pop (why didn't he need a shave?)
was up on his elbows, grinning. "Didn't have time to mention
that."
"How?" A still frowning Alex gaped at the window that looked the
same as it did before it had been broken, right down to the
chipped paint.
"It's magic," Pop said, getting up. "Amazons are witches, too.
The original witches. It has to do with the power that is
released when Yang changes to Yin. That is why witches have to
start out being female."
"'Yin and Yang'?! Those are Amazon words!?!" Alex glared again at
his Pop.
"Now, now. We don't want to have too much dialog."
"What? I'm confused enough without you saying things like
that!!!!"
"Once you're calm enough to stop using so many exclamation marks,
and are ready to learn, you will be taught more about Amazons. In
the mean time..." and Pop tossed him something he had kept in his
hand.
Alex caught the makeup compact. "I don't want this now!"
"Keep it until you do."
Alex was about to do his best to break it in his bare hand, when:
"There he is! Alex!! Stop! Stop! I told you we would find him!"
It was Cher Eldridge.
The beater stopped; with Summers 'agreeing': "We found him. Yeah!
After driving around all night, we finally found Alex Anderson:
Whoop-pee!"
Alex groaned; this was not the time to have to deal with
outsiders. He had found out his family had a big (and
complicated) secret, and he didn't know enough about it to know
what he shouldn't say or do.
"Alex! Alex! We were so worried about you!!" the very blond Cher
called out to him (sounding worried, and relieved besides her
usual cheerfulness) as she ran towards him.
"I wasn't!" the curly brown haired Pete Summers told him; he was
just walking (and looking very tired). "And the rest of the
search party went home before ten!"
"I don't know why they had to do that," Alex told them, trying to
hide his frown (and not being able to, with Pop standing there).
"Maybe it had something to do with you chasing a guy who attacks
people?" Summers said. (Alex noticed he had a few whiskers.)
Cher threw herself at him, "Alex, you were so brave! It scared
me. It thrills me!!" she squealed. And she clung to him even
tighter, "Oh, Alex! Just being around a hero like you gives me a
buzz!"
"Cher! You can't..." Alex was about to pull her off of him, when
he found his left hand wouldn't let him. He was still holding the
compact.
While he put it quickly in his pants pocket, he looked to see if
anybody had noticed. Summers was scowling at him. The only thing
he noticed was that the girl he had a serious crush on had an
even bigger one on Alex.
"Since you cared enough to lose a night, why don't you have
breakfast with us," Pop suggested.
"Pop!!" Alex scowled at Pop. "What about..." That's when he was
conscious that his pants were dry, now. They didn't stink,
either.
He looked down at a rented tuxedo shirt that should be torn,
soiled and sooty.
Wonder fought with anger as he looked back towards his Pop. Who
merely nodded.
+++
The three teeners were in the kitchen, while Pop was in the
bathroom shaving.
Or so he said. Alex didn't think Pop looked like he needed to
shave. And when he'd had a chance to test his own face, Alex
didn't think it felt like he needed to shave, either. But he'd
been shaving for nearly six months, now!
"Vegetables and fruit... sprouts," said Summers (who looked like
he needed a shave), surveying the inside of the Anderson built-in
fridge, "...Hormone Free Whole Milk... Unprocessed Yogurt... some
kind of green liquid... some orange-brown liquid... Don't you
have any real food?!"
"That is real food," Alex said, placing Cher down in a kitchen
chair. "Pop only buys health food."
"Oh, you poor thing!" Cher said.
"How can you eat that stuff?" Summers asked, heading for the
breadbox on the other side of the sink.
Alex pushed down on Cher's shoulders, hoping she'd get the
message, while he said to Summers, "It's better than scavenging
in the wild. I've been raised on so much real food, I don't know
if I can eat what everybody else eats."
"Then we're just going to have to find out!" Cher said, popping
up from the chair. "I'm an excellent cook!" She hadn't gotten the
message.
"You don't have bread??" Summers asked. "How can you make
sandwiches?!"
"We don't eat sandwiches." Alex backed away from Cher, towards
the wide, doorless exit to the hall, deck and garage.
"Not even the basics?!" Cher felt like crying.
"To Pop, the basic's always been the blender."
"Liquid sandwiches?" Summers turned up his nose.
"Just a blender?" Cher asked. "Not a food processor?! That does
it," and she went to the wall between the kitchen door and built-
in oven. "Alex Anderson, it's time for you to find out that food
is meant to be more than just food!"
"Who are you going to call?!" Summers asked.
"I'm sending out for pizza," She told him, dialing.
"At this time of day?!!"
"You don't know until you try," she told him.
"No, that's all right. I don't need pizza, honest!" Alex tried to
get her mind off her track.
"Everybody needs pizza," she told him. "When you look up 'food'
in a dictionary, you see a picture of... Why don't they answer?
I'm one of their best customers?"
"Because everybody's gone home?" Summers tried to tell her.
"Wait a minute! I know who to call!" Cher smiled, depressing the
receiver. "Petey, I need you."
"You do?" he asked. Smiling, now, he came over to her. But she
had already started punching a number. He was beginning to frown
again, when he got to her, "What do you want me to do this time?
Be your delivery boy?"
She touched his arm, "I want you to be my good luck... Hello?
We'd like a pizza."
"Who's open this time??" Summers asked. (Her hand did have an
effect on him.)
Cher listened for nearly a minute, but maintained her hold on
him, "I understand... But pizza places always have leftover
pizzas. Don't tell me none of your drivers came back with... Yes,
we'll pay you the normal price, plus the extra for gas! You know,
for two deliveries? We're at 1408 Meadow Road... It's on your way
home, any way?!" she beamed. "That's wonderful; we're really not
inconveniencing you, after all, are we? See you in a half. And,
oh, I'm sorry to hear about your raccoon problem."
"Raccoon problem?" Summers asked.
"Is that common with pizza parlors?" Alex asked.
Cher, proud that she did find a place open (and on only two
tries), explained, "Raccoons got in, and made a big mess. They
were just finishing cleaning the place up, when I called."
Alex asked, "How did you know they were there? Did you see their
lights on when you were out looking for me?"
Cher's smile faded a bit as she had to think about it, "Did I? I
don't remember. It was either that, or I'm very intuitive!" She
decided she was very intuitive.
"Oh, right: 'Intuitive'," Summers said, taking his arm away from
her. "That's why we spent the night looking for him, when we
could've been doing 'other things'."
"Now!" Cher announced, "Let's see what I can cook for you!"
"Cook?" Alex asked. "Are we having something else besides pizza
for breakfast?"
Summers knew what she meant, "Cher! If all they have is health
food, there's nothing you can do to 'fix' the pizza!"
+++
It was just the two guests in the kitchen, now:
"You can always fix pizza," Cher informed Summers, displaying the
platter of pears and peaches, and cucumbers and celery she'd
personally sliced.
Because Cher had prepared it, Summers didn't turn up his nose
quite as high as before, "I thought pineapple was bad enough. Why
can't we have ordinary pizza? Everybody loves pepperoni."
"I don't," she said, arranging the slices.
"I don't know why I like you so much," Summers grumbled. "You're
the type that'd ruin a perfectly good pizza with 'wheat germ'!
(Yuck!)"
"Wheat germ! Hey, yeah! They have that!"
"No! (Why'd I have to go and give her ideas!?)"
Coming from one of the locked, spare bedrooms: "Alex?" Mr.
Anderson asked from the three-bedroom house's only hall.
"He's in his room, changing!" Cher told him while she looked in
the cupboards.
+++
Alex's room was the master bedroom. It had two beds, because he
and Abel always slept in the same room so they could be on guard
from each other.
When his Pop opened the door, Alex was wearing a pair of baggy
fatigue-green pants with suspenders, a khaki tank top. =The cross
trainers may be a better idea than combat boots,= his Pop mused.
Of course, his were composite, designed for mountainous terrain.
Alex looked around and saw that Pop was totally G.I., from his
khaki pants, blouse, utility belt, and canteen to the flak
jacket. He even had helmet. It was the one he wore on his
mountain bike, but even that was camouflaged.
And he wore shoe black under his eyes.
"I'm going with you," Alex said.
"And make our years on the run a waste? I didn't devote my life
to keeping you free just so they could get your hands on you now
that you're almost of the age."
"'Of the age'?" Alex repeated. "What does that mean?" He wanted
to hear what Pop had to say, now... Anything.
"She'll explain things to you. Better than I could have, I'm
sure. Or could."
"She, who!?!" a stab of fear ran through Alex, and lodged there.
"She is an Amazon soul in limbo who uses the body I am not using
at the time. One of them, anyway. She is still weak, and has no
rightful claim to any body, yet. Her name is Imma. I'm afraid I
can't give you anything better. But you can trust her... Almost."
"But never, ever trust your own self! Promise me!! She is a
demon... Worse than a demon! She is the devil herself! Promise me
you will never believe a word Astarte tells you!!"
"Uh, okay," Alex gulped. He would not cry; he would not run to
his papa and hug him. He would be brave. He would be the good
soldier. "I, uh, promise."
"And you promise not to follow me? You'll give me that honor?"
"Yes. I won't , follow."
Satisfied, Abel "Anderson" turned for the closed bedroom door. He
paused, to say, "Stay away from mirrors and shadows."
"I will," Alex nodded, almost losing his fight to be stoic.
His father took one last look at his son from the other side of
the door. "Alex. Your real name is Smith. And that is what you
must be."
And he closed the door on him.
The End of this installment
If the whole thing seems a bit elaborate, that is because the
whole series came from an inspiration on how to include just
about everything I know about folklore of magic in one relatively
simple premise:
"What if DNA, specifically the "X" and the "Y" chromosomes, was
at the heart of it." "X" is positive, and "Y" is negative. And
unlike the law of nature, the law of preternature is that "Like
attracts like" (Note). Which means it can only be discharged by
unlike (the deficit negative).
Amazons have a strange double X chromosome. This means that not
only do they have the genetics to be both female (the first X)
and male (the Y part of the second X), there is room left over in
the second X for further magical genetic encryption. This usually
happens between the ages of 15-18, the third puberty. A way not
to become part animal is to become more female. That is, they
fill up their "sink-hole" genetic space with what they take from
human females. (Note)
(Note: Of course, as with natural science, the answers get more
complicated, the more questions you ask. They should also provide
story ideas.
(For example: Vampires are, in effect, she-males. But ones with
"animal magnetism" caused by the imbalance of the positive and
negative forces in their second "X" chromosome.)
"...from every land that had had blond or red haired mummies"?
Read Thor Heyerdahl ("The Sea People", I believe). Every race has
red hair genes; and red hair is the traditional color of witches.
(Piebald hair, especially a stripe, is also supposed to be an
indicator, I believe.)
[Problem: I do not like to write about evil. What I know about
horror, gothic, and villains is pretty much what I've picked up
in the general culture. (My "Mirror, Mirror" started out as a way
to avoid the darker side.) That is why I'm adding Imma (Acadian
for "Water Bearer (F)"). She should be able to better keep
Astarte (from the Phoenician goddess of love, fertility, and war)
at bay, as well as provide a lighter mood than Alex's Pop
would've.
[Besides, he wasn't Genma-Soun enough.
[For the record, Ioan started out as a multi-faceted personality
combination of Ryoga-Shampoo; Terie Ukyo-Mousse; Leslie Kasumi-
Akane-Nabiki (the cunning, not the greedy part); and Cher is
suppose to turn out to be more like Lum (Shampoo is the poor
woman's version of Lum). Oh, yes, there are also a Daiesuke-
Migane, and Hiroshi-Perm. I wonder if I'll add any other
character take-off from "Urusei Yatsura"?]
Libbie
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