It's the kind of misery that tabloid reporters live for.

[Maria Graziano]

"I'm sorry, Ms. Graziano. Is there anybody you'd like us to call?"

Maria Graziano was never a popular girl. She was the type of girl that other girls liked to hate. Her mouth gave them plenty of reasons to hate her. Her beauty was pretentious, her intelligence was flaunted, her personality was abrasive. She argued to all those who would listen that others' opinion meant absolutely nothing to her. Until this moment, she had almost convinced herself of that.

Her fingers tightly gripped the metal side rails of the hospital bed. The question repeated over and over in her mind. She doubted Bode would even leave the bar. Her brothers were sucked up in their own lives as they should be. While she and Ria had managed to mend fences, Ria was dealing with her own pregnancy issues and really shouldn't be subjected to such stress. All Kaj cared about anymore was her new boyfriend and his pathetically self-righteous friends. She told Maria herself that she could do better than the Crew. Kheld was all wrapped up in his business and would not at all be happy with Maria for releasing Kaja from her contract. Ticky... Well, Tical would be the call she would make. He'd hold her hand and not say a word. That's all she wanted but he was heartbroken and the last thing he needed was her sad tail pulling him further into the gutter. There was nobody.

"I'm fine," Maria said softly, managing a weak smile to the nurse.

The nurse frowned slightly, creating wrinkles beneath her eyes. Laughter wrinkles -- probably joyous laughter from the constant new births that she was privileged to experience. Unfortunately for her, there was also this gut-wrenching side to her job -- dealing with the young women who had just lost their babies. "If you change your mind, dear, just let me know. Get some rest now."

Maria acknowledged the comment with a nod before laying her head back against the expertly puffed pillows. A sense of intense loneliness overcame her. She had, of course, driven herself to this point. Her mean, tough streak was simply a facade. She no longer even knew what was beneath the mask; perhaps only emptiness.

Her hands rested lightly on her lower abdomen where only twenty-four hours before a young life flourished. Now that too was empty. There was yet another hole. Her second miscarriage in a year. The doctor would blame it on the stress just as he had the last but Maria knew better. She knew that she just wasn't cut out to be a mother. The two babies had been spared a lifetime of misery.

The sound of the door swinging open broke her self-destruction. She didn't bother to lift her head. It was probably just another nurse come to poke and prod at her.

She couldn't fight back the negative thoughts. Her relationship with Bode smelled. It smelled bad. She absently wondered if he was already in someone else's arms. The thought was like a second stab to the gut.

"Ms. Graziano?" a heavy voice interrupted her dark thoughts and she pushed herself up a bit in the bed, lifting her head to the voice.

A flash of bright light followed as a heavy set man snapped a picture of the tear-stained cheeked young woman. Maria was too stunned to even protest. She had checked in under her favorite assumed name -- Katrina Roberts. She hadn't even considered the possibility that the press would get wind of the miscarriage so soon. All it took was one nurse, one intern, one janitor looking for a couple extra bucks.

"Is it true, Maria? You lost your baby? How far along were you? Where's your husband and family?" he peppered her with a barrage of questions.

The stinging sensation of fighting back tears burned her throat as she stared blankly at the man. The door swung back open and immediately the nurse was upon the reporter. "What the hell do you think you're doing in here?" she tersely asked the man. One of her heavy hands landed on his forearm, pushing him for the door.

"Do you have anything you'd like to tell your fans?" the reporter shot out over his shoulder.

"Security is on their way. Out!" the woman's voice raised as she shoved him out the door to Maria's private room, closing it tightly behind him.

Maria stared at the closed door, backhanding away a few tears. The strong, leader in her told her that she now must call her family. The tired and broken girl told her to lay back and attempt to sleep away the pain. She gave in to her lesser voices. The thought of the Crew finding out she had a miscarriage when her tear splattered face showed up the next morning on the cover of some rag troubled her as she fell into a drug-induced slumber.

[Maria Graziano]

Ralphie took up a lean behind the front counter of his newsstand located on a busy intersection of a business district in RhyDin. Business wouldn't pick up for another two hours when employees began filing past his newsstand to their offices. Ralphie turned over a hairy forearm to read the time on his watch. 6:13 in the morning. Ralphie enjoyed the mornings before the real hustle and bustle of the city awoke. The sunrises felt like his own private showing.

The Ripe Red Current News was late. Typically, its carrier dropped off a stack of the tabloid papers around 5:30 am. The majority of the civilized portion of the city lambasted the paper as an attack on the privacy of celebrities. The paper was filled with pictures and stories of politicians entering rehab, sports stars cheating on their significant others, and movie stars drunken fist fights. Sex, drugs, and violence. Yet, the extremely high sales suggested that even those who criticized the paper enjoyed the voyeuristic feel of having a peek into the sordid affairs of the city's famous and infamous.

Ralphie pushed himself from his lean as Mike walked up the sidewalk, carrying a stack of the papers. "Hey, Ralphie," Mike greeted as he set the stack down on the front counter.

"Lil' late taday, eh, Mike?" Ralphie stepped forward, pulling a pocket knife from his back pocket to slice through the tough binding holding the papers into the stack. He pushed the knife back down and slid the red metal back into his back pocket.

"Yeah, editors got a late scoop that they wanted to include in this morning's edition," Mike replied as his hands patted down his pockets, searching for his pack of cigarettes.

Ralphie's eyes dropped, curious as to see the scoop. The face on the cover of the magazine was nearly too haggard and exhausted to recognize but after a moment Ralphie realized that it was the Graziano girl. He huffed, moving the stack of newspapers to their designated spot on the shelf. "Damn Wreckin' Crew is back on da cover? Always after da attention."

Mike let out a chuckle as he lit his last cigarette. "They could keep that newspaper filled with just their drama alone. Stupid kids. The girls are hot, though."

A passing man in a suit strolled to a stop as he heard the discussion. "Something happened with the Crew?"

"Yeah," Ralphie said, immediately going into his sales pitch. "Da Graziano girl's in trouble again. Ripe Red Current's got da exclusive." He motioned towards the newspaper. " Crew fan?"

The man's eyes darted towards the cover. "Nope. My loyalties lie with Shinju Dragons but I love bad news on the Crew." Mike and Ralphie chuckled as the man dropped several coins on the counter, switching his briefcase to his left hand to pick up the paper.

"Thank ya fer yer bidness," Ralphie said, pushing the coins into his hand. The suit nodded politely as he started towards his office.

He tucked his briefcase under his arm to hold the paper in front of him. His gaze swept through the brief article as he walked.


Maria Graziano's Pregnancy Woes

Early Tuesday evening, Maria Graziano, captain of the Wrecking Crew, checked herself into St. Mary's Catholic Hospital under the assumed name of Katrina Roberts. She was immediately rushed to the maternity ward in premature labor. Despite doctors' best efforts to stop the labor, Maria Graziano gave birth seventeen weeks early. The underdeveloped child was unable to breathe on its own and was declared deceased at 7:03 pm.

This is Graziano's second miscarriage in a year according to sources close to the athlete. The first miscarriage was blamed on the mental stress of the TDL season. She had yet to publicly acknowledge this pregnancy due to her trouble with the first. Her public appearances had been cut back dramatically in the past several months, signaling to TDL fans that perhaps her attempts to get pregnant had been successful.

Graziano was reportedly alone at the time of the birth. When questioned as to where her husband and family were, Graziano had no comment. This comes amid speculation of dramatic problems within the Crew. Graziano and her husband, fellow Crew teammate, Bode BoJangles have been experiencing marital difficulties stemming from his notorious drinking and her troubled pregnancy. This also comes days after a rumored run-in between three Crew members, including Graziano, in the Duel of Swords Arena over the breakup of Ticallion Carter and Kaja Adair. Rumors of this confrontation have suggested that Graziano made clear her wish to release Kaja Adair from her contract with the Wrecking Crew.

Representatives for the Wrecking Crew and Graziano refused to comment on Graziano's miscarriage. Other members of the Wrecking Crew were unreachable by press time.

[Kitsune]

Virginia Stone was back at her desk, but all was not right with the world...

"Ms. Stone, something you should see." came the voice over the intercom.

She tapped a spot on the desk and a holographic image of a newspaper appeared there. In moments she had read the article, and things were already rushing through her mind. She activated the intercom once more. "Denise, get me Doctor Foster... wherever he is."

Two minutes later a bleary-eyed hologram of Doctor Adam Foster, the man she'd assigned as physician to the Wrecking Crew, appeared over her desk. "Hello Madam Director, is there a problem?"

Virginia steepled her fingers before her face, studying the image for a moment before speaking. "I will give you one chance to explain why I should not reassign you to the radium mines of Thexlin."

Foster paled, suddenly much more alert. "Madam Director, I am not certain..."

She cut him off with a simple clearing of her throat. "Have you read the newspaper this morning?" A tap of her finger sent the headline to his computer, and she gave him a few moments to read through it.

Foster sighed... he wasn't sure how he could save himself now. "I was afraid something of this sort might happen, Madam Director. Mrs. Graziano refused to listen to me... placing her trust in some sort of mystic hoo-ha." When all else failed, he simply resorted to the truth.

Virginia pondered this answer for a few moments, giving the doctor much to sweat over before nodding slowly. "I am going to see Maria myself. If she cooberates your story, then you're off the hook... for now. However, I still expect updated reports on the rest of the team... especially Mrs. Wells-Graziano."

"Of course, Madam Director." Foster quickly cut the connection.

Virginia activated the intercom again. "Denise, have the car brought around... I'm going to the hospital. I want a double security detail as well." She paused for a moment, then spoke again... her voice going cold. "Also, have someone find out who took that picture and who leaked the information from the hospital. When you have the names, turn them over to Mr. Cook with the orders that those people are to be convinced to never do anything like this again."

Virginia Stone was back at her desk, and soon the world would know it.

[Maria Graziano]

((Author's note: The following was written in conjunction with Bode's player and took place a week prior to Maria's miscarriage.))

"So, Mr. TDL All-star, why is it that you still drag your ass in here? Ain't you and your old lady got enough money to buy this place and everybody in it?" J.T., one of Captain Hammer's regular stool ornaments, asked as he turned from his slab of greasy red meat to face Bode.

Bode chuckled as he whipped his worn denim jacket off the back of the creaky wooden stool. The bartender, a leggy blonde with dark roots and shorts that were way too short for a woman of her age, settled a couple of bottles of Captain Hammer's special brew onto the bar top in front of Bode. Bode gave the woman a wink before turning to answer J.T. "Ain't no better work-out than military pressing drunk butts like yours out the door."

"No, seriously. Why do you keep showing up in this hobo bar?" J.T. spoke in a more inquisitive tone.

Bode slid his built arms into the sleeves of the jacket before giving J.T. a faint shrug of his broad shoulders. "The hell not? Got the best damn beer in town, an' 'sides this is where I like to unwind." Bode tucked a cold bottle into the inner pocket of his jacket before freeing the cap from the bottle in his calloused hand.

He gave a two-fingered salute to J.T. as he started a leisurely stroll towards the door through the thinning crowd of drunken slobs and done-up hussies. J.T. called out a "Goodnight" to him as Bode stepped out into the unseasonably cool late spring night.

A figure rushing into the bar caused Bode to quickly step off to the side to save his beer from being jostled. "Whoa, bud."

Hearing Bode's voice caused the figure to come to a stop and spin to face his victim. "Great. Just the man I was looking for. Look, Bode, I got a big favor to ask you."

Bode grinned briefly as he recognized his friend, Doug. The grin faded at the urgency in Doug's tone. "Sure, bud. What's got ya in a tizzy?"

"There's a rare cat that's loose a couple of day's north of here. It's terrorizing a small village -- ate a couple of kids. They're going to hunt it down and slaughter it unless I can catch it and get it back to the farm. I know you faced that Overlord cat and walked away. I could use your expertise." Doug's tone was rushed.

"Dang, Doug. You and your crazy pussy," Bode said with a slight smirk, lifting the bottle up to his lips to take a long sip.

"We gotta go now, man," Doug said, ignoring Bode's double entendre.

J.T. stepped out of the building and Bode again had to side step to save his beer. "Hey, bud I need ya to go to my place and tell Spanky I gotta help a friend out for a week or two. Can ya manage that?" Bode frowned slightly at J.T., noting he did not appear completely sober.

"Yeah! Sure, man." J.T. gave Bode a thumbs-up before stumbling off down the street.

Bode scratched his two day old facial hair with the neck of his beer bottle. J.T. didn't at all seem like a safe bet. "Come on, Bode." Doug urged again as he started off down the street. With a heavy sigh, he followed along after Doug clinging to the hope that J.T. would get it together long enough to relay the message.

J.T. was, in fact, able to relay the message. He stumbled up to the penthouse of Billerington Deluxe Apartment and told the the confused dark-haired woman who answered the door that Bode would be gone for a week or two and that he, J.T., would be happy to stay with her until Bode got back if having a strong male presence would make her feel more safe. The door was, of course, slammed in the man's face as Bode and Maria lived in the penthouse of the Reeds building next door.

[Ticallion Carter]

A light summer rain splattered consistently against the dingy windowpanes of the small and cramped hotel room deep in the heart of Badside. From the street, a faint glow from a lamp could be seen through the window, but not much else thanks to the films of dirt caked on the glass. That suited the person inside, just fine. The last thing he needed was one of Badside’s street urchins to see what was going on in the room and utilize what they saw to make a quick buck from the police or someone else. Or even worse, one of Badside’s more prominent citizens (the killers and thieves) might see who was in the room and figure they had an easy mark.

He didn’t know why he worried as he pulled on the solid black hooded sweatshirt, making sure to pull the sweatshirt down enough to conceal the nickel-plated semi-automatic pistols tucked into his blue jeans. Maybe worried wasn’t the word, it was more of a preoccupation. However, Badside made a good temporary base for tonight’s planned activities. It was a lot more convenient to walk to the tabloid office from the seedy hotel room than from anywhere else. Secondly, it was a lot easier to be less conspicuous, not that he was worried at all about being caught.

After pulling on the black leather gloves and drawing up the hood on the sweatshirt over his head, he reached over onto the bed and picked up the newspaper article: “Maria Graziano’s Pregnancy Woes” read the headline, but that wasn’t what he was interested in. It was the four little words under the headline that he read over again about four or five times: Story By Murray Robinson. The black gloved hands balled up the article and tossed it into the nearby wire wastebasket, and extinguished the lamp. Black boots crossed the room with methodical steps that almost matched the sound of the rain on the window and headed out the door, closing it solidly.

[Ticallion Carter]

A few minutes later…

The door of the Ripe Red Current News offices swung open and a figure stepped in from the rain outside. It was a little late for visitors, but when you work in the tabloid business, most of your news came from questionable sources that did not necessarily operate during regular business hours. That was probably why Cynthia, the receptionist for the paper, thought nothing of the man standing in front of her desk in the black hooded sweatshirt. That, and the fact that she had just gotten off for the night and was about ready to leave herself.

“Can I help you?” She squinted her cool blue eyes through her small, wire-framed glasses at the man. She couldn’t really see his face, but again, she did work in the tabloid business so she didn’t totally expect to see his face, either.

“I’m here to see Mr. Robinson, is he in? I have a little bit of news for him.” came the reply.

Cynthia sighed and rose from her chair, she pushed a button on her desk and immediately a gruff and clearly annoyed voice crackled from a speaker positioned on a corner of the desk.

“What?”

“Mr. Robinson, I got someone here to see you. They say they got some news for you.” Cynthia had begun to gather her things and threw on the hot pink raincoat that had previously been slung over the back of her chair as she spoke. She flipped her dark red hair over the shoulders of the raincoat once Murray came back over the speaker.

“Who is it? I don’t need any news. Don’t they know who I am? I run the gossip mill in this friggin’ city.”

Cynthia rolled those cool blue eyes and glanced to the hooded figure again. “You gotta make your case, hon. He’s in one of those rare moods of his.”


The figure nodded and spoke again, the tone low-key. “Tell him I’ve got some big news about the Wrecking Crew.”

Cynthia nodded and pressed the button. “Mr. Robinson. He says he’s got some big news on the Wrecking Crew.”

There was a long, drawn-out pause before Murray Robinson’s voice crackled back over the speaker. “The Crew? Damn. That will definitely sell papers. What are you waiting for? Send him up.”

Cynthia pointed to a door behind her as she walked from around her desk towards the front door of the establishment. “He’s up there, 3rd floor. First office on the right. He’s the only one here, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find him. Remind him to lock up when he leaves, ‘cause he always forgets.”

The receptionist headed out and a few minutes later, the hooded figure jogged quickly up the rickety wooden staircase to the 3rd floor of the building. Immediately to the right of the staircase was a small office with artificial light pouring out of the doorframe. The figure stepped into the office and was immediately met by the stone hard gaze of a middle-aged, heavy set reporter.

“Lemme guess. Crew news. Ticallion’s gone crazy on account of that Opal and went and burned up his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend?” the heavy voice of the reporter questioned once the figure stepped fully into the room.

“Something like that.” came the reply.

“Then why the hell are you-- Hey! You can’t--” Murray Robinson’s voice was cut off by the eruption of a volley of gunfire and the star investigative reporter of the Ripe Red Current News fell to the floor of his office a few moments later, dead.

[Ticallion Carter]

The next morning…

Ralphie had been waiting all morning for Mike to show up with today’s edition of the Ripe Red Current News. A few of his regular customers had asked if he had it and he had to reluctantly inform him that he hadn’t received today’s issue yet and he did not know when he would get it.

He didn’t found out why Mike hadn’t shown up until he went to his usual deli around lunchtime. Ralphie found Mike seated at a booth in the deli, smoking, and immediately approached him to ask why he hadn’t delivered the papers this morning.

Mike gave his friend a quizzical look. “Ain’t you read the papers this morning, Ralphie? I don’t think I’ll be delivering anymore for Ripe Red for awhile. I got a new job with the RhyDin Informant, though. I can get you a discount if you want?”

Ralphie hadn’t read the papers this morning, but once he heard the news (and set up a new business agreement with Mike for the RhyDin Informant) he immediately picked up a copy of the RhyDin Daily Times and found the article he wanted:

Fire and Murder Rocks RhyDin’s Ripe Red Current News

Early this morning, police and fireman were called to the offices of the city’s leading gossip tabloid, the Ripe Red Current News. Flames were pouring steadily from the 3rd floor of the building and it took firemen over an hour and a half to sedate the blaze due to a malfunction in the building’s sprinkler system. The blaze is approximated to have started late last night at around 3 or 4am.

The Ripe Red Current News’ woes continued when police entered the building to investigate the source of the fire and found a body. The body was positively identified as reporter Murray Robinson. Robinson is known widely around the city as “Murray the Mouth” due to his expertise as a gossip columnist. Apparently, Robinson was the only one who was still in the building at the time of the fire.

Police speculate that Robinson was killed before the fire started and that the murderer in all likelihood set the fire after the murder. Robinson’s body was found in his office, with his head decapitated. His body was riddled with gunshot wounds, eight in all. Robinson’s head was found a few feet outside of his office, mounted on a pike.

Police are still searching for information and suspects in this bizarre case. Cynthia Adams, a receptionist for the Ripe Red Current News was presumably the last person to see Murray Robinson alive.

“Someone came in and said they had a big scoop for him. Then I got off, so I left.” Adams told us early this morning.

“I don’t know who that person was, I didn’t really get a good look at his face.” Adams continued.

Ripe Red Current News’ editor claims that even through the setbacks, the paper will continued to be printed once the offices are relocated.