Daria's Rugrats - Prologue

 

Daria's Rugrats

September 25, 1987

Didi Pickles was reviewing class notes for the next day when the door bell rang. “At this hour?” she wondered. She went to the door. What she saw next shocked her. “Stu! Come here, quick!” she said calling for her husband. She looked at the young girl shivering on the doorstep, and bent down to comfort her. The brunette looked at her with sadness in her eyes. Didi took the girl into her arms. “Why are you here, and not at home?” she asked as the girl weakly hugged her.

 

Stu came stumpling up the staircase from the basement. “What is it, Didi?” he asked.

 

Didi turned around, with the girl in her arms. “I answered the door, and there she was, shivering.”

 

“Hi, what's your name?”

 

“Daria,” the girl said weakly.

 

“What were you doing out there?” Didi asked as she closed the door.

 

“Ran away,” the girl, Daria, said.

 

“Ran away?”

 

Daria nodded.

 

Didi and Stu looked at each other. “We have to find out where she comes from.”

 

“No!” Daria said.

 

“What?” Didi asked.

 

“I don't want to go back!”

 

“But you have to!” Stu said.

 

The girl just stared stubbornly at the couple.

 

“Where do you come from?” Didi asked.

 

Daria just shook her head. “Bad!”

 

“Bad?” Didi asked with concern.

 

“Really bad!” Daria projected, with a violent shudder.

 

“Oh no!” Stu said.

 

“Child Protective Services, first thing in the morning!”

 

“But, they wouldn't be able to do anything if she won't say anything.”

 

“How bad?”

 

“Not saying!” Daria said.

 

“If she doesn't say anything...” Stu began.

 

“No, first thing in the morning, we're going to a doctor!”

 

 

 

September 27, 1987

“Come in Mr. and Mrs. Pickles.”

 

 

Once Stu and Didi were seated, the doctor wasted no time. “Besides some malnutrition the girl is physically healthy.”

 

“You mean...” Didi began.

 

“That nothing was done to her. Just evidence of living rough. She may have ran away quite a while ago.”

 

“But why would she run away?” Didi asked.

 

“She won't answer. We surmise that her parents may have been fighting, and that she felt responsible.”

 

“I see,” Stu said. He wondered how far she had travelled.

 

“That poor girl!” Didi exclaimed. She frowned. “What is going to happen to her?”

 

“She will be put into foster care,” the doctor said.

 

The couple looked at each other. They each gauged the other wondering what they were about to do would be a good idea. They hadn't planned on having children, not for a few years yet. “No!” Didi said once she was sure that Stu was deferring the responsibility to her.

 

“Are you offering to take her in?” the Doctor asked in surprise.

 

“Yes,” both Stu and Didi said simultaneously.

 

“You will have to apply at Child Protective Services,” the Doctor said.

 

They both nodded.

A Man and His Box X

 

A Man and His Box X

It was very weird, seeing Lawndale from the perspective of the past. Over the past day the Doctor, Nyssa and herself had scoured the town for unusual activity, only taking a break to spend the night at the Dutchman Inn.

 

As Andrea and Nyssa entered the Pizza King, she saw the members (or yet to be members, she wasn't sure,) of Mystik Spiral at one of the booths.

"You know them, or will know them?" Nyssa asked.

 

"Huh?"

 

"Those four teens?"

 

"Oh, they're in a grunge band in my time. Not a very successful one, but they have a cool sound," Andrea whispered.

 

"I'd like to hear to hear them," Nyssa whispered back.

 

"Maybe when we're in my time next," Andrea whispered with a slight smile. "But they're an acquired sound.

 

Nyssa nodded. "You don't see yourself here?"

 

"I don't."

 

"We still have to be sure that she doesn't enter whilst we are here."

 

"I know, I listened to the Doctor."

 

"I thought I'd remind you."

 

"A good idea."

 

 

As they ordered Pizza, Nyssa asked the teen boy, if there had been unusual activity.

 

"If you mean aliens, yes. They replaced my skin with a synthetic that's more sensitive."

 

"Really?" Nyssa asked.

 

However, Andrea recognised him from Sick Sad World, although she was certain he hadn't come to their attention yet. She drew Nyssa aside and brought this to her attention.

 

"I'm waiting," Artie said.

 

"Ah, yes," Nyssa said.

 

"Any unusual activity in the past few days."

 

"I saw a ship near High Hills Park last night," Artie responded.

 

"There, we go," Andrea said to Nyssa.

 

 

Once they had eaten the pizza, they went to find the Doctor.

 

A Different Look at 1111 (4)

 

A Different Look at 1111

Part 4

Quinn's Secret

It was early in the Summer between her Junior and Senior years at Lawndale High, and Stacy Rowe was visiting her best friend, Quinn Morgendorffer.

She rang the doorbell. Quinn's Mom came to the door. “Hi, Stacy, Quinn is upstairs. Qui-inn! Your friend is here!”

 

There was no response.

 

“Is she?” Stacy asked.

 

“Odd,” Quinn's Mom, Helen, said. “Come to the kitchen.”

 

“Sure,” Stacy said.

 

 

In the kitchen, Helen pressed an odd button next to the sink, that Stacy had always noticed, but thought was simply a decoration. 'I guess not. It's another mechanism, like the Dining Room, and the guest room closet-platform,' she thought. She had seen Tom and Daria come down from it one night, and some months later, had used it to surprise Jeffy. That had been a memorable night. However, she noticed a panel on the wall next to the microwave, recede and then slide aside, revealing an older styled telephone handset. Helen picked it up.

 

“This is an intercom. It reaches everywhere in the house,” Helen said.

 

“Are you sure?” Stacy asked.

 

“Yes,” Helen answered.

 

She held down a button in the middle of the handpiece. “Quinn! Stacy is here!”

 

“Quinn! Stacy is here!” the mechanism somehow had a delay built in. 'I guess that reduces the chance of feedback,' Stacy thought. “Cool,” she said.

 

“Yes, it is isn't. it? Of course, Daria knew about it for a full year before she told me!” Helen said with a shake of her head.

 

Quinn's reply then came. “I'll be there in a minute, Mom.”

 

“There, you go. She is here, somewhere.”

 

'There are probably other secrets you don't know about,' Stacy thought.

 

 

Quinn entered the kitchen a minute later. “Sorry, I was.... doing something.”

 

“You seem to be 'doing something' a lot lately,” Helen said.

 

Quinn's expression seemed to say; 'Not this again, Mom!' “Stacy, come on!”

 

“Where?” Stacy asked. Quinn seemed a little... dishevelled. Her clothes had creases, and her hair was a little wild. But it was minor, she was sure that only people who knew her well would notice.

 

“Up to my room!” Quinn said, as if it were obvious.

 

“Sure!” Stacy said. They then left the kitchen.

 

 

When they arrived in Quinn's room. Quinn went to her closet and opened the door. “If you must know, I was in here.”

 

“Quinn? Are you alright? You weren't crying, were you?” Stacy involuntarily remembered a similar experience, a second attempt at asking Brett Strand out, going awry like the first time just prior to the medieval fair. She managed to stop the distress from showing on her face.

 

Quinn brightened. “Of course not! Come in and see,” she said.

 

Stacy wondered, was it like the guest room? But she hadn't seen it above the roof when she arrived! She followed Quinn in.

 

Quinn twisted a knob on the back of the closet and Stacy felt a jerk. She turned around and saw that the closet was going downwards! She turned back to Quinn. “The closet’s like the dining room?” she asked in excitement.

 

“Yes,” Quinn said.

 

'She's being enigmatic, that's certain,' Stacy thought.

 

 

A few moments later, the closet came to rest on a lower level. “We're here,” Quinn said as she stepped out of the closet and flicked a light switch. Stacy followed her out.

 

Stacy looked around. The room as the same size and shape as Quinn's room many stories above. (How many, she wasn't sure. She guessed at least four.) The room was filled with books, folders, loose pieces of paper, rolls of fabric of varying colors and canvases. A sewing machine lay on a table next to the door located where the room door would be located in the room they had just left.

 

What she could see of the loose papers had either writings or pictures on them. A significant portion of the pictures were of clothing designs, but there were varied other subject on the other pictures. Many of the canvases had paintings on them. She could see a small easel and half empty paint bottles on the wall opposite to the sewing machine.

 

“Is this...” Stacy began, speechless.

 

“Yes, it's all mine,” Quinn admitted. “The majority of it,” she added.

 

“Majority?” Stacy asked.

 

“Some of it is the magician's original designs for the mechanisms in the house. They're now buried under my stuff,” Quinn explained. Stacy stepped to the side and saw the clothing that Quinn had made hung on a rack. She could see a progression of quality as her friend had improved. She looked at the most recent dress.

 

“This is a great dress; you should wear it!”

 

Quinn smiled “You really think so?”

 

“Yes!” Stacy said in excitement.

 

Quinn took the dress off Stacy. “Then I shall.”

 

“Quinn, does anyone else know about this?”

 

“No,” Quinn admitted. She thought for a moment. “Daria might, but she hasn't said anything.” She turned back to Stacy. “But my parents don't know.”

 

“I won't tell them!” Stacy exclaimed.

 

“I know you won't.”

 

Stacy picked up one of the pictures. “This is really good. You should show Ms. Defoe!”

 

“And be compared to Jane? No way! Then I will be called a Brain Artist,” she said with a giggle. That told Stacy that Quinn was at least considering it.

 

“Why tell me now?” Stacy askd.

 

“You're my best friend. Besides, with the Fashion Club dissolved, I felt it was the right time,” Quinn answered.

 

Stacy smiled. “Quinn...” She paused. “You know that caricature?” she asked referring to an incident some months ago.

 

“Yes?” Quinn prompted, guessing that Stacy was going to divulge a secret of her own.

 

“I have it!” Stacy then panicked. “Don't tell Sandi or Tiffany! Please!”

 

“Stacy! Why would I. Besides,” Quinn added. “I didn't look that bad in it. I mean. Look at some of these pictures. It took me a while to improve.”

 

“Sure...”

 

The two close friends the continued to examine the contents of the room and talk (especially the latter), until Helen used the intercom to say that lunch was ready.

 

Star Trek: Lower Decks 2.03 We'll Always Have Tom Paris review

 We’ll Always Have Tom Paris

The third episode of the second season. While Tom Paris is visiting Cerritos on a tour, Rutherford finds that Shax has returned from the dead, Mariner and Tendi go on a ‘Girls Trip’ and Boimler has trouble with the computer. Not sure what to think of Shax returning, but Rutherford’s uneasiness about it is realistic (and comedic enough). The focus of the story is really Mariner and Tendi’s space road trip of errors. Certainly a journey of discovery, of each other. (Like ,Beckett, you didn’t know your Orion crewmate’s first name is D’Vana? Really?)

That Dr. T’Ana only wanted the box was one of the best parts of the episode. One of the others was Tom reacting to Bradward falling into the Bridge by saying “It’s a Kazon!” and fighting him. 8.2/10.

 

Quinn's Code - The Geek Hunter - Part 2

 

The Geek Hunter Part 2

The students separated into two teams. “So, seize this opportunity to say 'private Yong Peron, reporting, sir or madam, ready, willing and able to learn the true meaning of teamwork,” Mr. O'Neill said.

 

“Let's go team!”

 

“That's it, Brittany! Who else on team red wants to say something before we begin?”

 

 

“To understand the disruptive nature of war upon society, first we must understand it's shattering impact upon individuals. I realize it's foolish of me to assume that any member Team Blue knows what physical pain feels like outside of a paper cut!” Anthony DeMartino said.

 

“Yeah, what a bunch of... ah!” Jake dropped to the ground as DeMartino pointed his gun at him.

 

“Sorry, false alarm!”

 

“That's OK.”

 

“Now, the object of the game is to shoot to kill.”

 

“Excuse me, isn't the object of the game to capture the enemy's flag?” Daria asked.

 

“Whatever. Move out!”

 

 

“Now, before we go out on the battlefield, would anyone like to share their feelings?” Mr. O'Neill asked.

 

Ms. Barch fired her gun behind Mr. O'Neill, causing him to run off, sobbing. “Now that Mr. O'Neill has predictably deserted us in our prime, I will take command.”

 

“Excuse me, Ms. Barch? Since they can't see us very well because of the terrain, we can split up and they won't know where we are, then we can attack them from their sides, drive them out to the one side they think is safe, and then set up an ambush so we can capture them all at once! Probably be a good idea to set up an observation post on the high ground so we can watch them without them seeing us,” Brittany suggested.

 

Everyone looked at her, surprised by her knowledge of tactics.

 

“What?” Brittany asked, confused by their surprise.

 

“That's very good, Brittany,” Ms. Barch praised.

 

“OK, team, let's go.” As the team moved out she noticed that Jane remained behind. “Come on, Jane.”

 

“I'm more of a mercenary type. You know, lone wolf working on their own type of thing,” she said, wanting to leave the group and find Daria. 'I hope you're nearby, Amiga,' she thought. She didn't want to wander around the paintball range any longer than she needed to.

 

“Good idea, Jane. If plan A fails, you can come in on a rescue mission.”

 

Jane sighed. 'You can get someone else to do that!' she thought.

 

“You will, right?”

 

“Sure, Brittany.”

 

Soon, the paintball game was on.

 

 

“Now,” Sandi Griffin said to her Fashion Club. “Let's find that Geek and cover her with paint!”

 

“Is that such a good idea, Sandi?” Tori Jericho asked. She was concerned that Sandi would go too far. 'She's already resentful of her popularity!'

 

“She'll be embarrassed, and bruised, but otherwise unharmed,” Sandi said, placing emphasis on the last word.

 

“So you say, Sandi, but I know that you don't like her being popular. Get over it!” Tori said. 'I hope she'll change her mind. I know it's not likely, but, still...'

 

Sandi just glared at Tori before saying, “Let's go.”

 

Tori sighed. She thought she saw a look of sympathy from Stacy, but it was momentary.

 

 

Brittany led Jane through some bushes... Someone got in a lucky shot and hit Jane in the shoulder. “Ow! Those paintball thingy's hurt.”

 

“Oh no! You're hit. You're out of the game.”

 

“Damn it! Oh, well.” She threw aside her gun and walked away.

 

“Poor kid. She never had a chance,” Brittany said. 'Now someone else will have to rescue us,' she thought.

 

 

Daria was walking through the woods, carrying her paintgun in a way that indicated that she expected an opponent to come out of the bushes at any time. 'Somebody in a movie once said. “Hell is the possibility of sanity.” This is what this place feels like. Hell. I hate it already. Some damn tour, Grandma.'

 

Helen appeared and pointed her gun at Daria. Daria surrendered. Helen was annoyed. “Daria, you could at least try!”

 

“I can't shoot my own mother, not with paint anyway.”'

 

“I'm out here, giving my all. Why can't you for once...” She was interrupted by her cell phone ringing. “Morgendorffer! Oh hi, Eric! ...Yes, I'm out here in the woods, can you believe it?” She dashed off as paintballs came in her direction.

 

Then Daria got hit and dropped her gun. “Ow!”

 

“Sorry,” Jane said as she and Jennifer walked up.

 

“Let's get this over with!” Daria said. She walked off, leaving the paintgun where it had fallen.

 

“Sure, let's go,” Jane said, with a smirk.

 

“Are you sure?” Jennifer asked.

 

“Yes. It would be better than here,” Daria said.

 

 

Quinn, Kristen and Cindy located the Fashion Club. They were in a small clearing. “OK, you know what to do,” Cindy said.

 

 

Stacy heard something in the bushes. She gave out a yelp of fright.

 

 

“Sta-cy!” Sandi admonished.

 

“Eep! Someone's out there!”

 

“Of course someone's out there, just try not to give out, like, our position, by yelping!” Sandi said, her voice hard.

 

“Sorry!”

 

“Someone is there,” Tori said. Paintballs came fying out of the bushes. Tori ducked behind a tree and fired back.

 

Sandi thought for a moment. “Tiffany, go investigate,” she said.

 

“Mee-e?”

 

“Yes.”

“Su-re,” Tiffany went to investigate.

 

 

So, Tiffany was taken by surprise when Kristen fired upon her. “Hey! I just bought this stuff!” she said.

 

“No, it's 'I just bought it'!” Kristen said, while shaking her head. “Game over!” She added, with a smirk.

 

“Yes, what do I do now?”

 

“Stay here,” Kristen said as she sent a txt to Cindy.

 

“Su-ure.”

 

 

Cindy heard the incoming text sound and knew that Kristen had taken out Tiffany. She signalled to Quinn.

 

 

“Tiffany was taken out,” Tori said to Sandi.

 

“I know that, Tor-ri!” Sandi snapped.

 

“You sent her out, knowing that someone was there...” Tori said in a slightly accusatory tone.

 

“So what! Tiffany was always slow, we're like, better off without her,” Sandi said, her hands on her hips.

 

Tori stepped forwards, so that her face was almost in Sandi's. “Who are you going to sacrifice next?”

 

Sandi didn't answer.

 

'I'm sure it's Stacy. I think she's starting to like arguing with me,' Tori thought. She turned her attention back to the surrounding woods. She was sure that it was Quinn and her two friends out there. 'Of course, it is!'

 

 

 

Quinn saw Cindy's signal. She moved forwards.

 

 

Tori saw Quinn emerge from the undergrowth. “There you are,” she said. She fired, but Quinn dodged.

 

Quinn fired back, Tori dodged by falling to the ground, and rolling back, towards Stacy. “Sandi!” she called.

 

'I have you now...' Sandi thought. “Ah ha! Geekendorffer!” She gloated. She signalled Stacy and Tori.

Tori stood back up, and all three remaining Fashion Club members opened fire, but Quinn had retreated back into cover.

 

“We weren't quick enough,” Sandi said. She turned. “Stacy, go after her!”

 

“S-sure, Sandi,” Stacy said, although she was sure that Sandi was setting her up. She moved forward, toward where Quinn had dashed back into the bushes. As she passed Tori, the latter girl gave her a look of apology. 'It's not your fault, Tori,' she thought.

 

 

“Very predictable!” Cindy muttered.

 

Quinn nodded. They both trained their paint guns on her as she came closer.

 

 

“You're gon-na shoot Stacy?” Tiffany asked Kristen.

 

“Not yet,” Kristen answered. 'Almost there!'

 

Stacy approached the bushes. Kristen sent another txt to Cindy.

 

 

Quinn and Cindy heard the 'incoming text' sound, and moved to intercept Stacy as she entered the bushes. They fired. Stacy was splattered.

 

“Oh!” She said. She collapsed to the ground and started crying.

 

“We need to do something,” Quinn said.

 

“Tiffany can comfort her, while we deal with the other two,” Cindy said.

 

“Sure,” Quinn said.

 

Cindy sent a txt to Kristen.

 

 

Kristen read the text message. She turned to Tiffany. “There's a slight change of plan.”

 

“O-oh?”

 

“Stacy's crying. You need to comfort her while we confront Sandi.”

 

“Su-ure.”

Daria 2097 1.2

 

Part 1.2

1111 Glen Oaks Lane, 6:00 PM

The Morgendorffers were having dinner. It was quiet. The way all four family members liked it. However, to say that there was no communication going on would be false. There was a lot of information passing to and fro between the family members.

 

Quinn: Sends transcript of Pep Squad recruitment meeting, and her refusal. Additionally her acceptance of Sandi's invitation into the Fashion Club.

 

Helen (Barksdale-Morgendorffer): As along as you can join the pep squad later, if you want. You never know how much we can handle until we try.

 

Jake: Daria, how was your first day?

 

Daria: My history teacher hates me because I know all the answers, but there are some interesting idiots in my class.

 

Jake: That's Great!

 

Helen: Physically glares at Jake.

 

Jake: Um...

 

Helen: Daria, your father's trying to tell you not to judge people until you know them. You're in a brand-new school in a brand-new town. You don't want it to be Highland all over again.

 

Daria: Not much chance of that happening... unless there's toxic material in the drinking water, here too.

 

Helen: I'm talking about you making a friend or two. Don't be so critical. Give people the benefit of the doubt.

 

Daria: It all boils down to trust.

 

House AI ('Glenny'): Unspecific request for communication with a family member incoming.

 

Quinn: Expresses hope that it's not Lawndale High's Booster Society again.

 

Helen: I'll take it, Glenny.

 

 

Helen stood up and took a handset unit from the kitchen base station. Quickly she determined that the person on the other end wanted verbal contact. She brought it up to her ear. “Hello?” A pause. “Uh, yes, she's my daughter.” Another pause. “I see. Listen, will this require any parent-teacher conferences or anything, and if so, is this the sort of thing my assistant or an AI can handle?” Another pause. “Okay, great. Bye!” The 'call' ended. She sat down and turned to her daughters.

 

 

Helen: You took a psychological test at school today?

 

Quinn: Looks annoyed at Daria.

Quinn: The way you answered may not have been what she was looking for.

 

Helen: Daria, they want you to take a special class for a few weeks, then they'll test you again.

 

Quinn: Quiet sigh.

 

Helen: It seems she has low self-esteem.

 

Jake: spits out some pasta. What? That really stinks, Daria!

 

Helen: Easy, Jake, Focus! Looks at Daria. We tell you over and over again that you're wonderful and you just... don't... get it!

Helen: Hit's table with Fist

Helen: What's wrong with you.

 

Daria: It's a mistake. I don't have low self-esteem! (annoyed emoticons!)

 

Jake: I'll say.

 

Daria: I have low esteem for everyone else.

 

 

Tuesday, September 17, 2097

There were many students in Daria's self-esteem class. All of them were doing anything other than listening to the teacher droning on.

 

One thing hadn't changed in the course of the 21^st century. The presence of ineffective teaching methods in the curriculum. The self-esteem class was one of many examples.

 

The teacher was droning on, not understanding the words “Esteem... a teen. They don't really rhyme, do they? The sounds don't quite mesh. And that, in fact, is often the case when it comes to a teen and esteem. The two just don't seem to go together. But we are here to begin realizing your actuality... “

Daria was sure that those last three words didn't belong in that order. The last one she was sure wasn't used at all. She raised her hand. “Excuse me. I have a question.”

 

“Sorry, question and answer time is later,” Mr. Timothy O'Niell said.

 

“I want to know what "realizing your actuality" means.”

 

“It means... look, just let me get through this part, okay? Then there'll be a video!”

 

The teacher went back to his gibberish. Daria than heard someone speak behind her. “He doesn't know what it means. He's got the speech memorized. Just enjoy the nice man's soothing voice.”

 

Daria turned to the girl. She wore a black shirt with a red coat, and three earrings in each ear. Her hair was short and spiky. “How am I supposed to follow him if I don't know what he's talking about?”

 

“I can fill you in later. I've taken this course six times.”

 

 

Later, Daria and Jane were walking through Lawndale to Jane's house. “So, then, after the role-playing, next class they put the girls and the guys in separate rooms and a female counselor talks to us about body image,” Jane said.

 

“What do they talk to the boys about?” Daria asked.

 

“A classroom full of guys and a male teacher?”

 

Both girls stopped walking. “Nocturnal emissions.”

 

They resumed walking. “I don't get it, Jane. You've got the entire course memorized. How come you can't pass the test to get out?”

 

“I could pass the test, but I like having low self-esteem. It makes me feel special.”

 

 

Soon they were at Jane's house. Jane glanced at her tablet as they walked on the Lawn. “Unlocked! Trent! I've told you to check that the locks have engaged!”

 

“Trent?”

 

“My brother. He runs a local music site, and a member of a band. I use that last word loosely, you understand.”

 

“They play terrible music?” Daria asked as they entered the house.

 

“That's an understatement,” Jane said.

 

“Hi, Lane house,” Daria said.

 

“Oh, there's no AI. My parents have never bothered putting one in. Or was it, grandparents. All the computers come from the fifties or earlier.”

 

“Jane, that's crazy.”

 

“That's the hardware. The security software is up to date,” Jane said.

 

Daria breathed a sigh of relief.

 

 

“And my room...” Jane said opening the door to her room.

 

“Is that an easal?” Daria asked.

 

“Yes, I prefer the traditional art methods, although I do use digital.” Then an alarm sounded, and Jane looked at her tablet. “Uh, oh!”

 

“What?”

 

Jane showed Daria the image on the tablet. “Foreclosure drones!”

 

“Foreclosure drones? What have I gotten myself into?”

 

“My parents must have let the autopayments lapse.”

 

“How can I help?” Daria asked.

 

“You want to help?” Jane asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

 

Down in the Lane's basement, Jane opened an old closet. “Here, it is our server. Apparently from the fourties, though the OS is later than that,” she said.

 

“I don't think you'll be able to get in.”

 

“Oh really?” Jane placed her palm on the reading surface. “Authenticate!”

 

“Jane Lane Authenticated.”

 

“Now where have you stored the account details,” Jane said, once her account was signed in.

 

“OK, then.”

 

 

Five minutes later, Jane still hadn't found the account details. “Come on! Those foreclosure drones are getting antsy!”

 

“Maybe it's hidden in a virtual drive or something?” Daria pondered.

 

“Of course!” Jane said. “Activate all virtual environments!”

 

“Is there enough RAM for that?”

 

“I hope so!”

 

 

There was enough RAM in the server, and Jane was able to find the details in a file. “Done!” She picked up the tablet, which was showing the foreclosure drones leaving. “And they won't be back!”

 

 

After that crisis aversion, Daria went home.

Star Trek: Lower Decks 2.02 Kayshon, His Eyes Open review

 Kayshon, His Eyes Open

The second episode of the second season. Cerritos sends an away team to catalogue a Collector’s Collection. At the same time, Titan arrives at a mining settlement recently taken over by Pakleds. The opening scene with the sonic showers was… interesting, but it sets up the clash between Mariner and Jett very well. For Kayshon being in the episode title, he isn’t in it much. The scenes on the Collector’s ship were done very well. Jett calling Mariner out on her narcissistic approach to life or death situations was done very well.

Riker (and Starfleet Command’s) suspicion of there being someone behind the Pakled activity may be leading somewhere. The same for the situation Boimler finds himself in. 8.25/10.

Church notes - 22nd August 2021

 22nd

1 Timothy 5:1 - 16

Relationships

Prorities - supporting each other in Christ.

We are all works in progress.

1 Timothy 4:12

People were disrespecting Timothy because of his youth.

vs 1, 2

Exhort - urge and encourage.

Correcting, admonishing and comforting.

Promoting unity.

Ephesians 4:29

The listener should be benefited and helped.

Those who are vulnerable.

Deuteronomy 10:18

Deuteronomy 24:27

Widows were vulnerable and exploited.

vs 16

Acts 6:1

Acts 9: 40 - 43

Personal responsibilities

The Widow's family should care for her, not the Church.

Christian relief should not belittle.

Untitled Crossover VIII

 Daria put the quarter in the slot, ready to play the game.

However, something was wrong.

"Hey, where's the wrecking guy?"

Quinn's Code - Blue Screen of Sherman - Part 4

 

Blue Screen of Sherman Part 4

Saturday, February 17, 2006

It was breakfast at the Morgendorffers. “So I called up Cindy, Kristen, Jenna and Andrea, and the Anime and Programming Clubs are going to take up collections to get safe new goal posts. Like, to honor the dead guy's memory.”

 

“Quinn, what a wonderful impulse. To make something positive come out of this devastating event.”

 

“It was Andrea's idea. She's good at this tragic stuff.”

 

'Good, maybe I'll redirect Jane onto her,' Daria thought. “Have to say, Quinn, it was one of the safe new goal posts that fell on him.”

 

“I know that, but it's the thought that counts,” Quinn responded. Having finished her breakfast, she got up and left.

 

“And how do you feel, Daria?” Helen asked.

 

Daria scowled. “I feel great. How else could I feel? I'm the miserable misanthrope chick! I'm going to Jane's.

 

 

At the Lane's, Trent answered to Daria's knock. “Hey, Daria. Janie went running.”

 

“Oh. Well, I'll see her another time,” Daria said as she turned to leave.

 

“Scary about Tommy Sherman.”

Daria turned back. “Yeah. You knew him, right?”

 

“We had a couple classes together. I mean, we didn't see him much. You know, he didn't show up too often.”

 

“Not like you, huh?”

 

Trent laughed and coughed “I guess I might have missed a few classes, now that you mention it. Weird thing. Freak accident.”

 

“Would you say it really makes you think?”

 

“No,” Trent said.

 

“Thank you for that.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“See ya,” Daria turned to leave.

 

“Hey, Daria?”

 

“Yeah.” She turned back.

 

“You know, it was a while ago that Janie went running. Maybe she came back and I didn't hear her or something. Anyway, why don't you check her room. She might be there.”

 

“I'll yell up the stairs.” Daria entered the house and went to the foot of the stairs.

 

“No, umm, sometimes she's got some music on and she can't hear really well. Why don't you just head on up?”

 

Daria frowned slightly. 'Something's up!' she thought.

 

 

Daria knocked on Jane's bedroom door. She could see Jane listening to music and sketching.

 

“Yo! Come on in! Oh. Hi.”

 

“Are you avoiding me?”

 

“Um... not anymore?”

 

“What's going on?”

 

“Nothing. I just haven't felt like talking to anybody.”

 

“I'm not anybody, and I'd like to talk to someone,” Daria said.

 

“But you've been talking to everyone,” Jane countered.

 

“No, everyone's been talking to me. There's a difference.”

 

“Well, what do you want to talk about, anyway? You don't care about what happened.”

 

“How can you say that?”

 

“You've been treating it like, 'Oh well, another stupid day.' The guy died.”

 

“I know he died! I'm sorry he died! But I'm not going to pretend that he was some great person when he wasn't. People aren't upset because Tommy Sherman died, they're upset because they're going to die,” Daria explained.

 

“That's understandable.”

 

“Okay, but you know what I've been hearing? 'You know how I feel, Daria. You're gloomy. I knew I can talk to you, Daria. You're always miserable.' Tragedy hits the school and everyone thinks of me. A popular guy died, and now I'm popular because I'm the miserable misanthrope chick. But I'm not miserable. I'm just not like them.”

 

“It really makes you think.”

 

“Not funny! Thanks a lot!” She turned to leave.

 

“- No! That's why they want to talk to you. When they say, 'You're always unhappy, Daria,' what they mean is, 'You think Daria. I can tell because you don't smile. Now this guy died and it makes me think and that hurts my little head and makes me stop smiling. So, tell me how you cope with thinking all the time, Daria, until I can get back to my normal vegetable state.'”

 

“Okay. So why have you been avoiding me?”

 

“Because I've been trying not to think. About the way we were making jokes about him dying and then, boom, it happened.”

 

“We didn't have anything to do with the guy dying. It was a freak accident.”

 

“Yeah, well, I don't like it when I say people should die and then they do. I don't want that kind of responsibility. At least not until I've got a job in middle management.”

 

Daria paused before saying. “You didn't make him die.”

 

“You're not the miserable misanthrope chick.”

 

“All right, then.”

 

“All right, then.”

 

There was another pause. “He shouldn't have died,” Daria said.

 

“No.”

 

“But he wasn't a nice guy.”

Jane frowned. “No,” she said.

 

“Did Trent know you were up here?”

 

“Told him to tell anyone who dropped by that I was out running. What a surprise... he forgot.”

 

“No, he didn't.”

 

Jane chuckled. “Cool.”

 

Mysteries of Lawndale - The First Party - Part 4

 

The First Party Part 4

Daria and the others found Jane in the kitchen. “Welcome,” Jane said. “Ready to go?” she asked.

 

“Of course,” Daria said.

 

“Um, your brother’s car, is it safe?” Stacy asked.

 

Jane thought for a moment. “Mostly, Don’t worry.”  She answered. She added; “At least we won’t be stranded if it does break down.”

 

“How often would it break down?” Quinn asked.

 

“It varies,” Jane said.

 

“Is this such a good idea, Daria? We know we can walk there.” Quinn said.

 

“Let’s do it anyway,” Daria said.

 

 

“So, Crewe Neck, Cool,” Trent said as he started the car five minutes later. Jane was in the passenger seat, and Daria, Quinn and Stacy in the back. “I haven’t been there since a party in my senior year.”

 

“Ok,” Daria said. She hoped that Quinn didn’t see her blush.

 

“Directions?” Trent asked.

 

“Different from yesterday, Daria?” Jane asked.

 

“Yes,” Daria answered.

 

“Approach it from the direction of Sloane Hill,” Jane directed.

 

“Sure,” Trent said.

 

 

Ten minutes later, the car pulled up outside the main entrance to Crewe Neck.

 

“So what are we doing here?” Trent asked.

 

“A trial run for tomorrow, and taking note of the neighbourhoods we went through,” Daria answered.

 

“Sure,” Trent said. “So what now?”

 

“We go back, and discuss what we noticed about the areas of town we went through,” Daria answered.

 

“Sure, which way?”

 

“The same way,” Jane answered.

 

“Sure.”

 

 

They arrived back at Casa Lane to find Corey and Aleesha waiting in the yard. “Who are you?” Trent asked as he got out.

 

“Corey.”

 

“Aleesha. We’re also members of the Mystery Club.”

 

“You joined?” Daria asked.

 

“Yes,” Aleesha answered.

 

“That’s good,” Daria said.

 

“So you’ve been somewhere?” Aleesha asked.

 

“To where we went yesterday, by different routes,” Daria answered.

 

“Sure,” Aleesha asked.

 

“How did you know we’d be here?” Jane asked.

 

“I subscribe to Mystik Spiral’s newsletter. I knew that Jane’s Trent’s sister, simple,” Aleesha said.

 

Jane looked at Trent. “Spiral has a newsletter?”

 

‘Another mystery, Jane didn’t know that Trent’s band has a newsletter,’ Daria thought.

 

“Yeah, Jesse’s brother, Danny, puts it out.”

 

“Hmm, I haven’t met his brother,” Jane pondered. “Though why our address is on it, I’m not sure.”

 

“Our fans wouldn’t stalk us, they just have to go the Zon and McGrundy’s to see us when our gigs are on.”

 

“Let’s go in,” Stacy suggested.

 

“Sure,” Jane said.

 

 

“Do you have these newsletters lying around?” Daria asked Trent as they entered the kitchen.

 

“Daria, I’m in the band. I don’t need to read the newsletter.”

 

“I guess not. I suppose I would have to ask Jesse.”

 

“Yes.”

 

She turned her attention to Corey who was searching the Lane’s cupboards for a snack. “Did you notice anything unusual on Howard Drive?”

 

“Other than the sculpture in the front yard, nothing,” Corey answered.

 

Daria placed her hands on the table and glared across at Corey. “Then you didn’t look hard enough.”

 

Corey then appeared to be in thought. “I guess I was thinking of Quinn a little too much.”

 

Daria sighed. “When walking through Lawndale, focus,” she said.

 

“I’ll try,” Corey said.

 

Everyone sat at the table. Soon, they were discussing what they had seen that afternoon.

 

 

 

Saturday, 4 October 1997

It was 5 in the afternoon and Daria was looking in her closet, wondering what to wear to Brittany’s party that evening. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to wear her usual outfit or to wear something else that would enable her to blend into the background. She sighed. ‘I suppose a green shirt would be an improvement,’ she thought. She grabbed one of those green shirts (behind all the mustard colored shirts).

 

 

Quinn was also wondering what to wear. Was her usual athletic look suitable, or did she go for something more, ‘cute’.

 

“Jeans, it is,” she decided. She also grabbed an angel t-shirt. ‘It’s very ‘cute’,’ she thought.

 

Once changed, she briefly wondered what to do with her hair. She looked at the time “5:40!” There wasn’t enough time to tame her usually unruly hair, so she decided to keep it in her usual two bun style. ‘I’ll still be one of the cutest ones there,’ she decided.

 

 

Jane however, just decided to wear her usual clothes. “Trent! We have to pick up the Morgendorffers,” she said from outside her brother’s room.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes, why else would Daria ask for practice yesterday?”

 

“I thought that was Mystery Club stuff,” Trent answered.

 

“It was that too, but it was also practice.”

 

“Are we taking Stacy too?”

 

“That may be up to Quinn,” Jane answered.

 

 

The Plymouth arrived outside the Morgendorffers at 6:05. Five minutes late. Both Daria and Quinn had been waiting for about ten minutes.

 

“Are we picking up Stacy? Trent wants to know,” Jane said once both sisters had closed the back doors.

 

“Yes, 324 Eichler Street,” Quinn answered.

 

“You know where that is?” Daria asked.

 

“Yes,” Trent answered.

 

“Good,” Quinn said.

 

 

Stacy was waiting outside when Trent pulled up. She looked as she always did. “Wow, Quinn, you look cute!” she said when she had climbed in.

 

“Thanks!”

 

 

Trent stopped outside Crewe Neck. “Don't do anything I wouldn't,” he said after girls had gotten out.

 

 

They approached the security guard. “We’re here for Brittany Taylor’s party.”

 

“Names?”

 

“Daria Morgendorffer.”

 

“Quinn Morgendorffer.”

 

“Stacy Rowe.”

 

“Okay, and you? What’s your name?”

 

“Tiffany,” Jane whisphered. “There’s gotta be one,” she said to Daria.

 

“Tiffany Hodge, Tiffany Duke, Tiffany Fairchild or Tiffany Blum-Deckler?” the guard said.

 

“Blum-Deckler is taken,” Quinn said to Jane.

 

“Tiffany Hodge,” Jane said to the guard.

 

“Strike! You're out. Tiffany Hodge has already entered.”

 

“Would you believe that there are two Tiffany Hodge’s in Lawndale?” Jane asked.

 

The guard just gave a look of disbelief.

 

“Oh... she's not on the guest list. She's been hired to draw our portraits. She's very talented,” Daria improvised.

 

“Yes, She’s terrific!” Stacy added.

 

“You have to see them to believe them,” Quinn said.

 

“And your name is Tiffany Hodge, huh?”

 

“What a coincidence?” Jane asked.

 

“These are some of her sketches from art class. They’re very lifelike.” Daria handed a book of life drawings that Jane had drawn the previous summer, over.

 

“Hmm. These are pretty hot. Uh-huh... hmm...”

 

 

Ten minutes later, the four Mystery Club members (not that Quinn was in officially, just unofficially) entered the Taylor’s mansion. Stacy and Quinn separated from Daria and Jane, saying that they would catch up later. “Interesting, Early African Jungle decor, like her father is trying to compensate for something,” Daria said.

 

“I suppose so,” Jane responded. “But it would make a great sketch subject,” she added.

 

“Certainly, but let’s observe our peers in their native environment. I will pick up on things I would not have otherwise.”

 

“Lead the way.”