<body> <body bgcolor="aabdfd"> <center><h2>And Now, the News...</h2><br> <h3>Moderated by Nexan</h3></center> <p> <br> [The following section was written by Nexan] <p> The screen goes black. <p> Then, with a dramatic classical fanfare, the no-nonsense "NNN" logo rises to the middle of the screen, accompanied by a rapid montage montage of scenes from past dramatic events from across Nexus. <p> A resonant basso profundo voice proclaims: <p> "This... is NNN." <p> <hr> <p> A flawlessly coiffured middle-aged man with bright orange highlights smiles at the camera. Behind him, a remarkably orderly newsroom stretches over the horizon. <p> "Continued unexplained axiom fluxes across Nexus. A new reality phases into the Outskirts. Ongoing financial troubles for Maximum Cop. Hello, I'm Whitley Streiber. These and other stories tonight... on _Nexus Today_!" <p> Another musical fanfare as the _Nexus Today_ logo appears on the screen. <p> The logo fades. Streiber continues to smile at the screen. "First, to those reality fluxes." <p> Streiber turns to face a new camera angle as a black graphic window with a large red question mark appears over his left shoulder. "The finest metaphysists of Nexus remain stumped over the unexplained changes experienced by realities across Nexus." <p> The window changes to reveal footage of helicopters and gunboats attacking Choopamenanga. <p> "From the spike in tech levels in Choopamenanga... and the associated tragic results..." <p> The window shifts again to show footage of a totally pink forest of giant pine trees, complete with massive pink treehouses linked by pink wooden bridges. <p> "...to the rather dismaying universal chromatic shift in Arboria 47, changes of wildly varying signifcance and nature have been taking place for months now in a number of different realities with no apparent pattern or obvious cause. Scientists and shamans alike urge calm, saying that there is no reason to believe that this is all a precursor to a return of the Storm, the chaotic event six centuries ago that tore Nexus apart and reshaped it into its current form. When pressed, however, these sources confess that there is no reason to believe that these events do _not_ presage the return of the Storm, either, there being remarkably few records of the days immediately preceding the Storm's onset. As yet, the Mallrachen has had no comment. <p> "And now here's Ji Melinga with more on that newly arrived reality. Ji...?" <p> [The following section was written by Scribe] <p> The camera jumps to a shot of a purplish-lavender furred being, seen from the waist upward. In one of its many tentacles it holds a microphone covered with fur not unlike that on its torso. Behind it stretches mostly blue sky and a horizon with no discernible landmarks, with the exception of a grouping of banners streaming from poles. The banners are green above and black below. White squiggles suggest some form of script, but they are moving too fast in the breeze to be analyzed. <p> "Thank you, Whitley," says the reporter. It has difficulty pronouncing the W, owing to the lack of mobility of its beak-like mouth. "I'm standing just beyond the frontier of a sector which was not here last week. We received a report from a local Fringer that the local energy-boundary had been disturbed. When he went to investigate, he found this." It gestures appropriately. "To date, no one has reported actual contact with the aboriginal population, but these banners--" Again, it gestures. "--would suggest the life here is self-aware. Beyond that, however, we have no knowledge of what we're dealing with. Our local contact reports a tremendous energy surge just prior to the arrival." <p> The scene cuts. The words "Recorded Earlier" flash across the bottom of the screen. <p> A human male appears. He has obviously seen better days. He is emaciated and filthy. His hair is long and greasy, his clothing tattered and clearly assembled from different sources. He is missing all four front teeth on top and bottom. <p> "Yessir," he says, agitated and not sure where to look--at the unseen interviewer or the hovervid. "I was cookin' my supper, and suddenly the ground just sorta... jumped! And I mean JUMPED! My fire flew every which-a-way. Lost my rarbit, too! It just sorta flew away! I thought the Multiverse was comin' to an end! I started lookin' for the Great Angel, or sumthin'! I tell ya, I was damned--" He looks guiltily into the camera. "--I mean, awful scared!" <p> "Thank you, Mr.--" <p> "And it just went on and on!" continued the interviewee. <p> "Yes, Thank you, Mr.--" <p> "And I didn't git no supper, nosir! And I want to know, just who's gonna git me my supper? I hain't had nuthin' to eat since breakfast yesterday! You got any food? Cuz I--" <p> The camera cuts away. Back to the furry lavender being. "So that's how it is out here, Whitley. Experts theorize we may have some sort of militaristic regime on our..." He gropes for the proper term. "...hands. <p> "That's all from here. Stay tuned for late-breaking updates. And now, back to our studio." <p> <br> <i>Do not copy or quote the above material without the expressed consent of the owner of this page.</i> <p> <a href="http://www.oocities.org/talegiver/">back</a> </body> </html>