St Christina

[Perfect Warrior]

I found two more files from this Chainfic, but I wasn't the main contributor. Coolwater, maybe? Not elle-nora.

The plot I recall opened with a travelling Immortal noticing some other Immortals hiding on holy ground as nuns. A groundskeeper from the abbey(St. Christina's) was also Immortal. Then a relatively new poster chipped in with a new Immortal, being chased by a hunter. On previous chainfic threads I had been running a slum landlord who was also a furniture repair shop owner, and I got him involved. At this point in the postings my Leo Sinclair was ignorant of the problem. His employee from the second section above is friends with the hunter, and Leo is trying to get information from the abbess. She isn't certain where he falls as far as loyalties go. (& I think this is about where the chain died.)
Earlier in the chain I had specified Leo is trying to repair a condemned building, with a grant from the city specifying it has to be low income housing.

(Titled 'Christina 3' in my files)

"I don't think you understand, Sister." Leo said with an exasperated sigh, kicking his feet up on an empty chair, having sat down twenty minutes before. "I actually want to be kinder to the workers than this standard form advises."

She had obviously just finished her last class of the day right before her appointment with Leo, being in the process of loading papers into a briefcase when he walked into the clasroom. Sister Paulis had gone over the law, repeating it for several laps. "But you don't want them staying."

"Actually, if they're from your men's shelter, they could financially qualify for the mayor's little low income project, couldn't they? But they would have to seperately apply for it though, Sister."

"Semi-qualified." She minced his earlier phrase.

"At least. Better pay if they have experince with the full thing- sometimes people learn on the job but don't get thier papers, and then are in the lurch when they're no longer with that employer?"

"Most of the people we can't place quickly have mental or substance abuse issues. The quality of persons you're asking for we can generally place within the week."

"As in they need close supervision? Someone who can finish a specific task but then stops could be good enough." That first fellow I cleared sight unseen, if his resume is semi-accurate, could supervise such a group.


(& Leo meeting his sight-unseen employee Titled Leo & Tyler in my files


Oh bloody H. E. double hockey sticks, Leo sighed to himself. Why do I suspect that the swordstick in my tool box isn't going to be enough? He turned back to his van to rectify the lack.

Approaching again he decided on a different door, having noticed on his first approach that the intercom board was inarguably not working. Jiggling the keys in his hand finally jogged his memory- several of them were surely a century old, sturdy things that in this day and age would be assumed ornament. Cast iron sewer, his memory coughed up as he opened the sturdy wooden door that let into the basement, the main door letting into the floor above being mainly glass with a modern lock.

He noticed the fellow immortal again, matching the approach of a man built for physical labour. "Would you be Tyler King?" The name of the building manager, originally hired to do electrical work. Wanted to stay when he was done, was the story from Mr. Johnson, and the applicants for the job were less qualified than the electrician. At the man's wary nod he continued. "I'm Leo Sinclair, the owner of this building." When the man's frown became more thunderous he explained himself further. "Aye, you've dealt mainly with Mr. Johnson. If you would like to check the signature on your pay stubs, I can wait. We're waiting anyway for Mr. Johnson- I'd like to see what he did with the pipe work." The water coming in was lead pipe- and he had ordered that replaced.

[Colleengael]

Maybe we will get lucky and someone will have saved some of the files. If not...then get to work and add more to your story please.

[Nicholas Ward]

It was interesting (mostly because it featured Nicholas Ward as a protagonist and some new immortal kid) but almost all of that was written 'on the fly' so no other source existed other than the old board.

[Colleengael]

(Side note- I hope someone who was working on this story has more files. It sounds interesting.)

[Perfect Warrior]

I found this in a folder in my computer, under this file name. My contribution to a chainfic on the old board. Shall we continue?

First file:


'Unfortunate accident involving a power line.' Leo Sinclair seethed at this quote, watching the news. He glanced at a map on the table, marking the location of the 'accident' with his finger, glowering.

He sighed deeply. Three blocks from that condemed five- story brick building I bought this summer. I was going to start renovations next month- the plumbing and electrical inspections are booked for next week. How long are the cops going to be poking around?

And I promised the low income rental authority that I would have suites for them by next summer. I can't delay too long- from my look around the wiring definitely needs to be gutted and redone, since what I saw was two-prong outlets. The sewer is cast iron- I suspect 19th century. It could be fine with just a good ream out.

He glared at the TV, now on the weather report. I do need to inspect the work regularly- Mr. Johnson has a nasty habit of declaring work done at a point I'm not exactly happy with. And- Leo sighed exasperatedly. I should warn him that I'm concerned about unsavory characters poking around, since it seems someone is headhunting in the area.

After the news he shut off the TV, pacing his wordworking shop. After awhile he picked up a sabre in the corner, his pacing drifting into a practice drill, his expression still sombre.


Second file:


Leo had a headache. Usually he disputed the old quip 'first thing, let's kill all the laywers.' But what he had been handed by the vollenteer out of a standard form drawer would drive off anyone who understood and trap anyone who just signed.

So he checked the ManPower bullietien board when he got home. Five replies. Four wanted higher pay. One... he scratched his head. Expected board? To be fed? He checked the wording of his ad again- oh, something Mr. Johnson ticked off in a checklist, added by the job board's program to the bottom.

Now what reauteraunt can I pay in the area to take a chit for breakfast lunch and supper? The building has no kitchen- they're halfway through steam cleaning that rusty sewer, stopping to weld at noon. Two bachelor suites flushed properly as of this morning, I'm told. Put the guy to fixing his own electricity first of course to get him off the resteraunt chit.

Then his usual searches that he did on google.

His first thought: Is this hunter why I can't get electricians?

Second: Just how far apart were those two incidents?

He scratched the back of his neck, hunching his shoulders. Maybe I should let Mr. Johnson be whatever brand of idiot he wants to be and stay away from this renovation in person. Second opinion on contracts- that old catholic school on the other side of town has lovely vollenteers who try to help homeless people. They could even be better about finding semi-qualified workers than that default site my sub-contractor uses. And if they don't know they have no end of contacts on the both usual and unusual end.

Another pause. Whenever I set foot in a Catholic church, within a few months, it seems to be my doom to sing tenor in the choir. Singing latin under my breath I know has caught a curious ear way too many times. No creed in Latin, although the altar as I leave will steady my nerves, what with recent stories, reaching me on the news and elsewhere!