Runs on Awesomeness
Kiora winced as she heard the clip-clop noises of her hooves as she entered the building. She shot a glare at her companion. The small girl that appeared to be a young child, but was actually a hundred times older than she looked.
"I don't see why you couldn't just change me back already," Kiora said. "I mean, I found this place, you were here, challenge conquered, right?"
Kohana grinned. "It's not that simple. Yes, finding this place among that world was difficult, but you relied far to heavily on the help of those other ponies. If you had done it by yourself, you'd be human again. As it stands, you get to be punished a little more."
"Great," Kiora muttered dryly, looking around the room. "Where the hell are we, anyways?"
No one believes me when I say angels can turn their panties into guns.
The man who strode confidently into the Cantina was tall, lean, and eerily handsome. His skin was pale, while his eyes were so dark they seemed black, and his head was shaven bald. It was hard to guess at his age, but something about him said that "very old" was a safe guess. He was dressed in a robe the deep blue color of the night sky.
The pale man took a seat at a table near the bar, watching the door with interest. "Such a strange place," he mused to himself. "It reminds me of home, in a way." Then he strode over to the bar and said to Cathy, "water, if you would please." He pulled out a small pouch and pulled from it, a handful of gold coins that could not have possibly fit in the pouch they'd just came out of. No two coins were alike, coming from many different places and eras, but each was utterly untarnished. "This should pay for all my food and drink during this visit. Don't worry about change. 'Tis only gold, after all." He took his water, and then sat at a chair at a table near the bar, facing the door, watching it like a predator awaiting a meal.
Lafayette didn't like this feeling of hunger. It was new to him, and feeling emptiness was very unpleasant. If he had no need to feel it, why did he have to, and so strongly, too? He'd tried to fill his stomach with dirt before, thinking that because it was undigestible it would manage to keep him full — and, well, that didn't end well at all.
He tried leaves, and that worked a bit better. But really, the only way to satisfy himself was food, and so much of it too.
He really didn't consider what he was about to do to be theft. The concept of theft didn't sit too cleanly in his brain — it had only just begun to take form. It was something that was not the best thing to do, he understood, but he had to get rid of this feeling in his gut. And he was willing to do not very nice things to do that.
Something smelled good coming from one of the buildings. The smells, there were so many smells everywhere, he couldn't make sense of them, along with the touches and sights, but this smell smelled like food.
Lafayette opened the door, entering the cantina.
Just as Cathy suspected, more visitors entered within seconds of the first customer. Two ninja entered, followed by a pale man with a sack of coins that indicated he was a traveler, and a fourth person was preparing to go through the door.
Cathy whipped out a glass of water for the pale man and called out, "Oh, Brent...!"
Brent ran down the stairs, tying up his apron. Grumbling under his breath, he went behind the bar. "I don't want to work today" he said under his breath.
Cathy waggled a finger. "No complaints! I know you're still bitter about last time, but you won't have a day off for another...ninety-eight days."
She proceeded to walk over to the duo that entered. "Hello. Welcome to the Cantina! I'm Cathy! May I seat you?
◊"
Brent looked at the teenager sitting on one of the bar stool. Scrawny-looking, brown hair neatly parted to the side, slight features, and a sheepish grin. He didn't looked well in the self-esteem apartment.
"What do you want, kid?" Brent asked.
"Oh, just a glass of milk."
Brent went right to that.
[Table 6]
The pale man glanced at the "young girl" and her pony. Strange. The "girl", he sensed, was older than her appearance belied. And her pet... was that its true form? He doubted it.
To Kohana and Kiora, the pale man said, "you seem like you might be of interest." Motioning to the table he sat at, he said, "please, have a seat."
edited 12th Sep '11 8:25:41 PM by KillerClowns
Runs on Awesomeness
Kiora shook her pink hair— no, mane— out of her eyes and opened her mouth to speak when Kohana it her off.
"We'll be at the bar," she said. "No need to seat us."
Kiora shrugged with her wings and followed her companion, with an apologetic glance at Cathy.
"This is the Cosmic Cantina," Kohana said as she slid onto a barstool. "I've been here before, it's a good place to meet people. Now, anyways, to the matter at hand. You are still a pegasus. Why do you think?"
"Because you're a sadistic little witch," Kiora mused.
No one believes me when I say angels can turn their panties into guns.
Oh, great, there were people in this place. People meant that they would be protecting the food. This city was swarming with people — it really shouldn't have been so unexpected, but still. It didn't mean he didn't have to like it.
Lafayette's homeostatic field thrummed. It was an automatic response to something like this, but sometimes it scared people away. The lights overhead flickered as Lafayette moved towards the bar. He had a feeling that whatever was in those bottles was edible, and he wanted it, and he wanted whatever he could smell. One of the people at the table had water. Water wouldn't do any good. Lafayette had tried filling his stomach with water, and eventually his body swelled and still he was hungry.
The people didn't seem to be doing anything, though. Lafayette hopped behind the bar in a smooth motion and reached for one of the bottles. Uncorking it, he sniffed — it smelled bad. That was not food.
edited 12th Sep '11 8:32:44 PM by OhSoIntoCats
[Table 6]
"Very well," the pale man said, returning to his water. He took a moment to examine the others in the Cantina. There were the owners of this place, of course. But to deal with them would be suicide, even for him. There was a very hungry looking person... oh, yes, perhaps this person might be of interest? He needed to understand, and perhaps this curious-looking person knew things that could lead him to such understanding.
He stood and approached Layfayette, offering a formal bow. He'd given up on handshakes — he could never get the hands to feel right. Cold and dry seemed to be the general consensus. He then said, "greetings, fellow traveler. Care to have a seat with me and share tales?" Considering the man's clear hunger, he added, "for the price of a few tales, I shall see you are fed."
Finn hid his surprised as a young girl and a pegasus sat next to him. He lifted his hands from the wooden bar counter. What was that anomaly he went through? From the texts of Oxford, he saw something familiar, but he didn't know it would lead him to a Cantina that didn't feel of this Earth. He couldn't sense any Manifestations outside—if there was an outside.
To see if he could find anything out, he spoke up to the pair. "Umm...excuse me? Do you two have any idea what is this place?" His Received British accent sounded soft and timid.
Brent grabbed the bottle from the guest and recorked it. He grimaced as he put it away.
edited 12th Sep '11 8:35:33 PM by chihuahua0
What's eatin' you, chief?
The members of the C.E.L.L. task force stumbled into an unknown area one by one, each of them as bewildered as the next. Of the four of them, the lieutenant was by far the most rattled. She instinctively drew her rifle and began to point it across the room, her eyes nervously flickering from one corner to the next.
"What the fuck?" she said aloud.
The youngest of the troupe laid a hand on her shoulder, making her flinch and grit her teeth slightly.
"Aw come on man, we're in a bar, see?" he quipped in a matter-of-fact tone.
"You think anyone is gonna shoot us in here- well..." he nearly finished, contemplating over his last sentence.
"People do get into fights in bars and stuff, but I don't think this is that kinda place. Right Jennings?"
The second-youngest of the team nodded his head and scratched his chin.
"I gotta agree, it's pretty... peaceful in here."
The lieutenant lowered her gun and saw that the commander had already seated himself down at the nearest stool and was motioning for a drink.
"Get me some bourbon." he said as he fished for his wallet.
The lieutenant sat next to him and padded the counter.
"I'll take a shot of vodka."
The youngest of them oohed at his partner and nudged him in the gut.
"The lieutenant is feeling creative tonight!" he said jovially and they both laughed.
The lieutenant smirked and shook her head a little.
"Stuff it Gillian," she said sarcastically.
Gillian clapped a hand on Jennings' back and they both began to sing parts of the lyrics to some old "rock" song, Billy Joel, the lieutenant assumed.
War is God.
Lafayette looked behind himself. A price, that meant that food could be bought here. He didn't like the whole buying thing (what was mine was yours and yours was mine), but this was a part of this society, how the world worked. It was inevitable, with limited resources, but that also didn't meant that he had to like it.
"I don't have any tails," said Lafayette to the bald man. He would get food, somehow, whether he bought it or not. He began to dump out the bottle of foul-smelling stuff to see if there was anything inside. He'd eaten something like that before, where you had to dump out the liquid before eating. He remembered, they were called "pickles," or something like that...
To accommodate the sudden outburst of new visitors, a few more bar-stools appeared. Brent didn't bat an eye.
Cathy strutted over, putting her broom away. "Hello, fellow soldiers! Welcome to the Cantina! Please refrain from using any weapons while on the premise. May I move you to a table?"
Finn shrank in his seat, feeling a bit crowded. He gripped the edges of the stool anxiously.
edited 12th Sep '11 8:43:21 PM by chihuahua0
The pale man seemed slightly exasperated. What had he gotten himself into? To Lafayette, he said, "Surely you must have some. Spare me a single story! Just tell me who you are and how you came to be, and I can ensure your hunger is ended." Offering a cold, artificial attempt at a smile, he added, "It is a very reasonable offer, I must assure you."
Runs on Awesomeness
Bar
"Okay, I'll grant you that," Kohana said. Turning to the boy beside her she chuckled. "It never ceases to amaze me how people manage to just stumble in here. This the Cosmic Cantina, the inn between worlds, the one spot of consistency in the multiverse. Don't pick any fights, because they have ways of stopping you."
"So, how did you wind up here?" she asked.
No one believes me when I say angels can turn their panties into guns.
Finn recalled how he got here. He placed a hand on the bar, trying to avoid staring at the pony. It was not polite to stare.
"Outside, or at least back at my world, an anomaly between the psychic and physical plane appeared." Why was he telling a total stranger this? "It was unique, so it was worth exploring. Apparently, it leads here."
Finn brushed a few more snowflakes out of his hair. The ice was already melting onto his sleek jacket. His gloves were in his pocket, revealing hands redded from the cold.
He stuck his eye at the neck of the wine bottle and looked inside, seeing that it was empty. There was no food in there at all! What a waste of space, if this place was supposed to have food.
But at the question, Lafayette blinked.
He usually didn't have people... actually... asking him questions... like this...
It was kind of nerve wracking, actually. He was used to people running him out, not asking questions. The power visibly dimmed in the building for a split second, and then after returning to full power, dimmed again, for a longer duration.
"I am Lafayette," he said. "I came from below the Earth's mantle in hopes to spawn. Will you feed me now?" There was not a drop of sarcasm in his voice.
What's eatin' you, chief?
Gillian and Jennings ceased their merrymaking when the portly woman spoke to them. Both of them eyed each other at her instructions to relinquish their weaponry, and then looked back at the woman. She was smiling patiently at them, her face had friendly wrinkles that did not age her, rather, they gave her life.
"Uh, sure I guess," Gillian said hesitantly.
The lieutenant and the commander had already handed over their weapons, the other two were left still armed to kill.
Jennings smiled back at the woman, his dark eyes reflecting a bit of the light being projected in the bar.
"Where do you want us to place them?" he inquired.
Gillian nodded his head, "Yeah, and do we get 'em back?"
War is God.
The pale man seemed dissatisfied, but, a slightly begrudging look on his face, he said to the Cantina owner, "add some bread to my tab for Lafayette here." He then said, "now, I suppose introductions are in order. I am Kokabiel. A pleasure to meet you." The bread arrived, and he handed it to Lafayette. Then, sitting at Table 6, and motioning for Lafayette to follow, he asked, "but dare I ask: what sort of being are you, who lives below the mantle of a world?"
A cart with a bowl full of bread past by the squad to the table with the pale man. The cart bounced back through the kitchen doors, its wheels clattering all the way.
"Oh, you don't have to put them anywhere," Cathy said, putting both hands out. "You just have to hide them from sight, if possible, or just don't use them. I have a strict 'no-violence' policy I will enforce." She said all of this with a cheery smile.
Cathy gestured to the door leading to the side room. "Now, do you want a table here, or somewhere where there will be less traffic? The Cantina gets a lot of patrons."
Going for about thirty minutes.
edited 12th Sep '11 8:56:54 PM by chihuahua0
Lafayette didn't even bother sitting at the table, tearing off handfuls of bread and stuffing them into his mouth without ceremony. It was good. So good. So good that it was almost gone.
"I dunno. The first of us were around before a need for names. Some guy called me an 'old one' once?" said Lafayette. "But I'm not that old, only a few years or so..." He finished the last of the bread. "Is there any more?" The air around him seemed charged, and almost purred in satisfaction.
edited 12th Sep '11 9:00:16 PM by OhSoIntoCats
What's eatin' you, chief?
Gillian nodded in the direction of his partner, "Yeah, I guess we'll take a table," he said, "unless the lieutenant and the commander want to have some alone time." he finished with a titter.
The lieutenant shot a look at Gillian, who smiled sheepishly.
"Are you trying to piss me off?"
He slyly looked back and forth, "Maaaaaaybe."
She smiled some and looked over at the commander, he was still seated in a hunched over position, already downing another shot of bourbon.
"Yeah, we'll take a table, can't let the boys mooch each other in public."
At this the two under ranking members laughed loudly.
War is God.
Runs on Awesomeness
"You know," Kiora said, tapping a hoof on the bar. "I thought it was awkward to be a pony, but nothing compares to being the only pony in a room full of..." she trailed off and looked around the room, searching for the right word. "Non-ponies," she finally said. "Hey barkeep! Care to make a girl a White Russian?"
An entire world full of magical flying talking ponies, and nopony had figured out how to brew alcohol. Yeah, it was time for a drink.
No one believes me when I say angels can turn their panties into guns.
Thou errant flap-dragon!
"This place again? Are you fucking kidding me?"
"What place?"
"I got stuck here once, Cyrus." William comes in, gripping the arm of a man who, like him, appears to be no older than twenty. Both have brown hair, but William's is lighter and not as curly.
"What is this place, then?"
"Fucking weird, that's what," William says, adjusting his glasses and shrugging off his long brown coat. "Still warm as hell in here. Get me a whiskey at the bar and whatever you want. Let's sit in the corner, here, close to the bar. And try your best to ignore these people, okay?" William pushes Cyrus towards the bar while he heads to the table, tugging on his grey school sweater and white shirt to straighten them out. "They're fucking weird."
"Uhm... okay, William!" Cyrus walks briskly to the bar, his chain mail shirt clinking. "A bottle of whiskey and a tankard of beer, please."
William folds up his coat to make a pillow, sets it on the table, and leans his face into it, ignoring the numerous hard lumps where a good portion of his wordly possessions are.
Warm hugs and morally questionable advice given here. Prosey Bitchfest
Kokabiel placed the bowl of bread in the center of Table 6, an invitation to any who might interest him, and again motioned for Lafayette to join him. "You seem... unwell in human shape. A pain I empathize with." Then, curious, he asked, "enlighten me: if this is not your true form, what is?"
In spite of the possibly harrowing length, fear not Continuity Lock-Out nor Archive Panic; one of us would be glad to fill you in with a brief recap of what is going on if asked. Or even better, have a glance at the last two pages. For guidelines, please check the Character Development Thread page.
See Character Development Thread for special rules.
Due to popular demand, the Cantina is once again open for business. Although an incident with a customer caused the proprietor Cathy to shut its doors unexpectantly, she decided to stay around for a while for another day of tales and havoc...
Finn fell through the open doors and landed head first onto the wooden floor. Slowly, he pushed himself up, his limbs a bit shaky. His head still spun from going through the anomaly that lead him to this mysterious location.
The seats at the round, wooden tables were tucked in, aligned perfectly with the walls. One wall light was on, casting a dim light. The varnished floor had not one crumb or stain, smooth as the face of a newly crafted sword. Framed canvases hanged on the smooth brown walls, untouched by paint or pastels. Nobody was at the bar, and the bottles behind it were closed.
The stillness was broken by the pitter-patter of jolly footsteps.
"Well, hello there!" To Finn's uncomfortableness, someone lifted him all the way up and started to shake his hand. He barely had time to regain his sense before he could identify his greeter.
The woman was large in girth, yet her rosy face had little fat. Her twinkling brown eyes and prominent dimples reminded him of Father Christmas. Her blue-plaid dress and white apron looked like something an older Dorthy would wear.
"I'm Cathy," the woman said, letting go off his hand. Finn stood there, bewildered by her openness. "Welcome to the Cantina. How may I help you?"
Finn stammered out his words. "I-I-I-I...uh...where am I?"
"You're in the Cantina!" Cathy gestured to the entire place. "You should stay a while. How about you sit at the bar and wait for Brent to come? He'll provide you something warm before you go your merry way."
Finn nodded. He headed toward the bar, fidgeting his fingers.
Bryan was out with Amy, so he could stay awhile.
Cathy took out her broom and waited for the next guest. She hummed a pop song (Katy Perry or Jessie J, it depended on which universe) under her breath.
edited 12th Sep '11 7:23:06 PM by chihuahua0