Friendly Neighborhood Lich
Club Bizarre
In this bizarre area of Deck 11, the walls were covered partially by holographic screens which were currently depicting a lot of psychedelic wavy lines, partially by old-fashioned paintings, and partially just blank. The club had several distinct parts: a tea parlor run by a UFO in an apron, a bar serving all manner of odd drinks, and a few other little areas. In one such room, a dark one lit only by the window open to the cosmos outside and a small incandescent table lamp nearby, there were several old wooden tables to give an oddly classic feel.
Currently a young-ish woman was setting up materials on the largest table in the area, a rectangular one the size of an office desk. She looked like a witch at first glance, with the tall, pointed, wide-brimmed black hat she was wearing on her straight-grey-haired head. An elfin witch, judging by the large triangular ears sticking out horizontally underneath her hat and almost to the edge of the brim. A short elfin witch, since the top of her head came up to about waist-to-chest-height on a human, though the hat was tall enough to make up the difference. A short elfin albino witch, judging by the completely white skin and the flesh-pink eyes, though distinctly, her face was wide and flat with a notably rectangular forehead, a tiny nose, and virtually non-existent lips. As she pondered on where to place her stuff on the table, her mouth hung slightly open, revealing a single pointed tooth at the upper corner that stuck out a bit, even when she closed it.
She also thought about taking off the short and thick black cloak (apparently made from some sort of fine fur) draped around her shoulders, but eventually decided against it as she didn't want to show her bare arms beneath the simple white dress and matching boots she wore underneath. So instead, she reached inside a large duffel bag she had brought along, pulling out several bottles and jars, an incense burner, a box of batteries (half of which were faintly glowing), and several bags. As she pulled up a chair behind the table, she arranged the contents such that they were clearly on display.
And the contents were rather peculiar. In the bottles were strange potions and tinctures - there was one stored in a large glittering blue bottle. In the jars were strange mosses and fungi. From the bags, she withdrew many strange herbs, the leafy ones just as pale as her skin, though some with slightly more color, as if they lacked chlorophyll - though a couple of them were varicolored roots. While she was doing this, a robot maid rolling along on a wheel approached, carrying a stack of plates and a large pitcher of water and handing them to the short elfin albino witch, where the latter placed the pitcher behind the table and arranged the loose herbs on plates.
"Now," said the maid in a metallic voice, "I must reiterate that although you have a vendor's permit, the ship will not hold itself responsible for any ailments suffered by your customers, and any such ailments of sufficient severity will result in the loss of your permit up to and including expulsion from the ship." Here the witch put on a sinister smile and slowly bowed her head. "That having been said," the maid went on, "allow me to replace your sign with a translatable one."
The witch peered over the front edge of the table, where a little paper sign hung off the front. Currently it consisted of many strange letters written in ordinary ink. "But I like my writing I do," she replied, her voice low and carrying a thick accent, marked by annunciation and tall vowels and airy, barely-pronounced R's.
"You are no longer on your home planet," said the maid, as she ran a scanning beam over the sign. "There are many guests here who cannot read your language, and readability is more important than writing style, wouldn't you agree?" She backed up, nodding at the sign, which now read "Nemaforte's Herb Shop".
"That is not," said the witch apparently named Nemaforte, passing a pointy-nailed hand over one of the herbs, which bore pale yellow spiral-shaped leaves. "Important is writing, but I not will object, as not a spell this sign is." There was a peculiar glint in her narrow eyes, and a pause as she watched the maid leave. Once the maid was gone, she picked up a spiraling leaf, placing it inside a tiny cauldron which she poured a small amount of water into. After placing the mini-cauldron on her palm, she gently pushed it upward, where it rose on its own and hovered a couple of inches above her hand. After that, she conjured a small flame in her palm, where the cauldron rested above it, heating up the water.
"Zhumieihala. Spiral of pleasure."
And there she patiently waited for the tea to brew.
Come, my child of the devil. Your mother is calling you. Hear my call in Hell's grand hall, where all our dreams come true.
To dream is my right
Club Bizarre:
That part of the ship was a place of paradoxes, a paradise for the strange and unknown. Between the clashing, contrasting lights that flickered like pulsars or burned like the accretion disc on the heart of the galaxy and the vibrating mass on the ground, the walls echoed with music and projections shifted and mixed like the words shouted below. High above the holograms and the crowd The One Who Brings Horizons flowed like an incandescent river of metal between the lights that outshone their own luminescence, mono-crystalline strings gripping, pushing and projecting magnetic fields to defy gravity with graceful ease.
Raptly they listened to the organisms below, both organic and mechanical, and let their light pulsate in synchrony with the ones that surrounded them, scanning the club for a reason to disturb the dance of life below with their presence.
That reason was in the form of a separated chamber, from where less light came in then out... a chamber with a view of the stars, that they remembered peeking into during one of their flights outside. It was empty back them, and had more earthly appearance than the synthetic wonderland other parts of the ship fashioned themselves as. Letting their curiosity take the better of themselves, The One Who Brings Horizons softly let go of the ceiling, weaving the thin strings that projected from their body as a mantle to help slow their fall.The changing magnetic field made lights flicker and saucers curve their paths as the amorphous being descended from above as if crossing over from another reality, slowly coalescing into a form vaguely reminiscent of a tall robed humanoid, their whole body of a dark blue tone with bright lights shining into and out of view, taking forms of constellations from distant worlds, and eight static lights forming a ring on its "head", at the height where eyes would be in a human.
They hummed softly at the awe displayed by the humans in the room, bowing briefly like an artist after a play and then sliding into the darker room to see what and who did it have in store, and which new horizons they would bring home.
"The dried flowers are so beautiful, and it applies to all things living and dead."
Crazy Kiwi
Transport Terminal, Capital City - 3am Local Time
Even at this hour of the morning, there were still people coming and going at the terminus but it was not as busy as at other times. A party of three frantically checking their bags at the last minute before departure, a couple of new arrivals setting out through the huge glass doors into the brightly-lit city, a strange-looking and extremely non-humanoid alien trying to get comfortable on a bench seat designed for humanoid backsides and two people - a man and a woman - patiently standing and watching the interdimensional portal that connected this place with all possible worlds and times.The woman, Sophia, was dressed in black motorcycle boots, faded blue jeans, pale blue t-shirt, black leather sleeveless vest decorated with metal studs and chains and black fingerless gloves. Extensive tattoos covered her bare arms and what skin was visible was tanned.
The light crow's feet at the corners of her green eyes suggested she was in her mid-to-late forties but she seemed fit and spry. She had a strip of fairly short hair running front to back, dyed green, either side of which her hair was cropped close to the scalp and dyed in a pink and purple "leopard skin" pattern. In addition to five studs in each ear lobe, she had a nose piercing, a labret and a "Monroe"; a tongue barbell was visible when she spoke.
"Shouldn't be long now." Her accent was that of a born-and-bred New Zealander; the words ran together almost into one.
The man, Gwion, nodded agreement. He was dressed in black calf-length motorcycle boots fastened with plastic clips, Flectarn-pattern trousers, black t-shirt, green sleeveless "tactical" vest with many bulging pockets and on his right hand was a black fingerless glove with a carbon-fibre protector across the knuckles.
His right arm was tanned and heavily-forested with dark hairs, his long dark hair - tied in a ponytail - was lightly streaked with grey but his face was only lightly lined, making it hard to guess his age - he could pass for anywhere from late forties to early fifties. The iris of his right eye was blood red but that of his left eye was a more natural-looking blue-grey.
His left arm was clearly artificial and had obviously seen better days - none of them recent. The plastic casing was spray-painted a dull grey but here and there were gouges and scuffs that revealed the original imitation-flesh colour beneath the paint. The left hand was mostly glossy black but it, too, was gouged in places, revealing shiny silvery metal.
Each wore a small pack, no larger than what could be carried on board an aircraft cabin.
The portal rippled and a man stepped through it into the Terminal building, towing a large old-fashioned two-wheeled steamer trunk by its handle. He looked to be late thirties or early forties, about five-foot-eight (or around a metre seventy-three) in height, of average build and with dark hair and impressive "mutton-chop" sideburns. His attire wouldn't have looked out of place in late nineteenth century London - club collar, white shirt, dark three-piece ensemble of matching trousers, waistcoat and sack coat, black tie, shiny black oxfords and a black felt bowler hat. The gold chain of a pocket watch was visible on the front of his waistcoat.
Sophia and Gwion instantly recognised the arrival as Aubrey, having recently met him in a town that was similar in many ways to a nineteenth-century Western United States Railway Town.
Following close behind Aubrey was a fairly attractive woman who appeared to be in her early-to-mid thirties; slightly shorter than Aubrey, slender build and with her dark hair cut in a layered bob. She was dressed in a white blouse, bottle-green knee-length skirt, matching cardigan and black sensible shoes and towing a smaller, more modern style, wheeled travel case with a hat box carefully affixed to the telescoping handle.
Both Sophia and Gwion surmised that this had to be Pearl. They had heard about her from Aubrey and were aware that she would be coming, so it was an easy guess.
Pearl slowed to a stop, staring about in wonder at the interior of the Transport Terminal, its occupants and the vast brightly-lit city that was visible through the glass walls and doors.
Behind Pearl, in rapid succession, came Teri and Wolfe.
Teri appeared to be in her mid to late twenties, five-foot-four (or about a metre sixty-two), average build and fairly attractive with dark skin, brown eyes and shoulder-length dark hair.
She was wearing a pink T-shirt, black three-quarter-length trousers that showed off her well-toned calves, hiking shoes in black and grey with flashes of pink, and a black safari jacket.
Wolfe looked to be in his late forties to early fifties and of average build with greying dark hair tied back in a ponytail and moustache and goatee shaped into a style variously known as Van Dyke or "door-knocker". His features were Caucasian but exposure to the sun and elements had given the skin of his arms and face a reddish tan. At a metre sixty-seven, he was a couple of inches taller than Teri.
He was dressed in a dark grey polypropylene T-shirt, black polyester long trousers, Merrell Moab Ventilator hiking shoes and a black Nylon sleeveless vest with numerous bulging pockets. On his left wrist was a robust-looking digital watch with a black plastic case and strap and on his right wrist was a bracelet made of black paracord.
Gwion was impressed and gratified to see that both Teri and Wolfe carried only a small backpack each.
Aubrey recognised Sophia and Gwion and started to steer towards them even as Wolfe raised a hand in greeting and called out.
The six gathered in a group, greetings were exchanged and Pearl was properly introduced to Gwion and Sophia then they all headed towards the portal where Wolfe typed the destination into the console.
Wolfe flashed everyone a smile. "All set."
Aubrey blinked. "Is that all?"
Teri nodded. "Whatcha expect?" In contrast with Aubrey's Received Pronunciation, her accent was pure East End "Cockney". "It's just a matter of typin' the right address."
With Gwion in the lead and Wolfe playing "Tail-end Charlie", the six filed through the portal.
Deck 1 - Nebula Lobby.
The air in centre of the lobby shimmered and the six travellers emerged in the midst of the grand architecture and ornate decor of the lobby.Here and there were other travellers going about their own business - about half of them looked human.
For Teri, Sophia, Wolfe and Gwion, this was all "par for the course" but Pearl and Aubrey stared about in surprise and wonder.
Aubrey watched a trio of clearly alien entities heading in the direction of the stairs. "I thought you said we were going on an ocean cruise."
Wolfe grinned and turned to Teri. "Now I know how the Doctor feels when he tells his companions they're going somewhere and it turns out to be nowhere near as mundane as they expected." Like Sophia, he had a New Zealand accent. He turned to Aubrey. "We said 'Cruise Liner', no one even mentioned 'ocean'."
Pearl gasped at the sight of the robotic attendants at the nearby information desk. "Is this place safe?" Her accent was that of Manchester, UK.
Gwion gave her a smile. "From what I've heard, safer than where you live." His accent also identified him as originally from New Zealand. "You won't need to worry about personal violence here." He turned to look at Wolfe and Teri. "Are you carrying?"
Wolfe nodded. "Of course we are. So's Aubrey. You trying to tell us you're not?"
Gwion chuckled. "Not in the least. Just that we don't need to."
Sophia started to head towards the information desk. "Let's get ourselves properly checked in."
They gave their names to one of the robot attendants at the desk and surrendered their luggage to robotic attendants.
Wolfe turned and looked out into the heart of the lobby. "Right, where do we want to go first?"
[Club Bizarre]
Sitting in a corner of the strange club was what appeared to be a dark, shaven-headed woman in her late teens or early twenties. Ethoya Uvalex had regal, elegant, almost elven features and when she stood, she did so with a humble, earthly confidence and poise. Only her eyes betrayed her otherworldly nature: they had black sclera with golden irises. Still, her look of playful, non-malicious mischief took the edge of this alien feature. She stood at just over five and a half feet, had a slender build, and wore (so to speak) an impressive floor-length skirt that seemed woven of golden feathers and a loose sleeveless vest of the same. And someone with a particularly sharp eye might notice that she didn't reflect at all in the nearest shiny toaster.
She hadn't come to the liner with much in the way of mortal wealth, but a visit to the Lucky Star Casino had changed that. And gotten her banned for life due to a brutal winning streak. She hadn't cheated, thus the reason she'd walked out of the casino with her winnings. It was just that her time as the patron angel of Uel's equivalent of Las Vegas, the city of Oriyith, had given her a preternatural talent for gambling in all its forms. After centuries of picking up the details and strategies of the myriad, sometimes byzantine variations of the Uelane tile-games from gamblers' various prayers, the casino's Mahjong variation had proven little trouble.
Her next stop, and current location, was Club Bizarre. (She'd also rented a small room — the cheapest one she could get, since she had no particular need for sleep and very little luggage to store.) A non-negligible portion of her loot from the Lucky Star had gone into sampling fine whiskeys, which could not effect her, and at the bartender's suggestion, a bit of an obscure incense which could. So she had been imbibing a sweet, woody smoke that had proven a pleasant intoxicant to her, though it would do nothing to mortals other than perhaps leave them coughing if inhaled directly. (She hadn't had much yet — equivalent to two glasses of wine, at most.)
It was a welcome change of pace, this alien realm she'd found, and as it didn't quite exist in the flow of time, she could relax here for a while without worrying about her worshipers and other mortals.
She eyed the One Who Brings Horizons warily; in her aeons, she had seen similarly unusual entities and rarely found them amicable. But there were exceptions; she had frequently worked with the thoroughly bizarre Dead Gods Thuexatiqome and Nenirelithe, given their shared, Promethean interest in the progress and well-being of humanity, even if they also occasionally quarreled over methods. So there was no outright hostility in her alien eyes, though there was a certain expectation of ill-tidings.
Instead, it was Nemaforte she first approached after extinguishing the snub of the incense she'd just finished. Briefly forgetting her manners, she did not stand and walk over; she simply flickered briefly, vanished, and reappeared standing before Nemaforte's shop. "Quite a selection," she said, gently tapping her chest with her knuckles by way of greeting. "The incense was pleasant, but it would be a shame to not expand my horizons while I still can. Can you tell me more about your wares?"
For their part, if Nemaforte or the One Who Brings Horizons used magic or something like it to probe Ethoya, they would find Ethoya to be a stranger entity than her appearance suggested. Her (and the clothes she wore) were not so much a physical entity, though she'd look and feel that way to the mundane, as an aspect of the very concept of goodness itself, albeit so very highly filtered and refracted that she was as likely to have foibles and flaws as any (unusually decent) mortal. If good was sunlight (a deeply flawed metaphor, of course), Ethoya would be that sunlight shining upon the universe through an old, discolored, distorted, and rather small window... but a potential source of illumination nonetheless. More technological means might not report this subtlety, but they would at least be able to file her as an Energy Being.
As an aside and clarification — canonically, in my writings, Ethoya and her ilk are no more demonstrably real than, say, the Abrahamic god. But since myths are a form of fiction, and I'm looking to practice the subtly different style that making a properly fantastical mythology requires, it's all the same deal.
edited 25th Feb '17 4:22:56 PM by KillerClowns
They/Them
[Deck 1, Nebula Lobby - Joshua]
A tiny shimmer of faint, golden light appeared in the Nebula Lobby, in a space between the computer room and the staircase that led to the second deck. The light slowly expanded and contracted until it stretched a good seven feet high, and then widened six feet across.
From the portal, Joshua Murphy, stepped forward. Joshua was pale-skinned, tall, well built, but not overly muscular and had a roundish head. They had short, dark brown hair and darkened stubble on the lower part of their face. Their face was not particularly striking, with ruddy cheeks, a narrow nose and a slanted chin, they could easily disappear into a crowd if not for their choice of clothing.
It was a black bodysuit, which had exposed underarms, splotches of gray layered over it and with glowing golden yellow lines that almost resembled circuitry from the waist up and across their arms. In the center of the chest area, there was a black circle with golden lines that the rest of the golden lines emanated from. Their eyes were hidden with squarish sunglasses that had been tinted a dark red.
To the particularly magically attuned, Joshua smelled faintly of honey.
The portal closed behind them as Joshua looked at the room number on the keycard they had been given, as everything had already been arranged and Joshua was as ready as they could be to vacation.
Joshua supposed waiting and seeing what other people in the lobby were doing wouldn't hurt.
Joshua uses they/them
Note to self: Pick less edgy username next time.
A man, 4"3 in height, appeared within the Nebula Lobby. No-one knew where the hell he came from, and he spoke in some weird language no-one could understand. It was punctuated with lisps and hoots.
He looked human, and resembled Steven Universe (but with blue hair) except that he had tan skin, you'd probably think he was Mexican or Middle Eastern, but in fact his true form was an owl-like being, who was 16"6 in height, yes, you read that right, and he knew he couldn't fit on the ship in his true form. He also thought people would probably hate seeing his owlish feathery body and warrior-like size.
His name was Kaswaesa, although he'd gone by the human name "Ron Jones" on this ship, at least it was a name they could understand.
"Dammit, got to get used to my new size", he said to himself in a hushed tone.
edited 25th Feb '17 4:35:45 PM by Merseyuser1
Mr ship
[Deck 1: Nebula Lobby/ Henry and Lauren]
Out of the portal to get onboard the ship walked out Henry A. Safon 2nd and Lauren Safon. They were an older couple looking to be in their late 60s or early 70s.
Henry was dressed like a retired Victorian era professor dressed in an ensemble of light grey plaid trousers, black dress boots, a sky blue vest, a striped dress shirt, copper paisley tie, and a dark grey tweed frock coat and with his greyed hair and beard neatly trimmed and groomed. Lauren on the other hand looked more serious with her grey hair in a neat bun. Also unlike Henry she looked like she fit in with the surroundings being dressed in a more futuristic suit with a black skirt with matching coat, a white blouse with a mandarin collar that was secured by magnets instead of buttons, and black leather shoes.
The two stepped out towards the center of the lobby with Henry looking around with interest while Lauren was well...
"And the point of this is?" Lauren asked annoyed with being away from work.
"And Vincent owes me money." Henry said under his breath before looking at his wife. "Doctor's orders. You've been working at Intelligence too long and we're worried about you."
"Oh yes Mr. "I'll keep giving a speech even if I pass out on the Senate Floor". You're the proper authority on when to rest." Lauren hissed at him wanted to go back.
Henry sighed and looked at her caringly. "Ok first that was 500 years ago, and second I've learned my lesson with that and don't want you to be burned the same way I was. Augustus thinks you need rest and we agree with him. Just try and relax and we'll be back before you know it, Intelligence isn't going anywhere."
Lauren put her hand on her temple knowing if she didn't go along he would keep annoying her. Figuring she wasn't going to win this battle she sighed and put on a fake smile. "Fine, but if I'm not having fun then I'm out of here."
Henry smiled and took his wife's hand. "Deal."
Crazy Kiwi
Deck 1 - Nebula Lobby
Pearl gasped as more people materialised in the lobby - one in a golden flash of light. "This place is amazing."Teri nodded. "And y'ain't seen nothing yet."
Gwion's attention was caught by the elderly man in Victorian garb that had just arrived. There was something vaguely familiar about the man's features but he couldn't pick what. It annoyed him to no end that he couldn't put his finger on why the man looked familiar.
Friendly Neighborhood Lich
Room 2.002 -> Lucky Star Casino
At the very end of the short row of rooms adjacent to the casino was a room that looked like a dollhouse on the inside, with all the cute furniture and all the toys wandering about. Yes, the toys were moving on their own, alive as any person or animal. There was a plush dog sleeping on the bed, a couple of wind-up mice scampering on the floor, wooden birds perching on the windowsill, and several dolls, mostly made of porcelain, populating the semi-spacious room.note These dolls were very fancily dressed, the one boy doll in there wearing an extravagant suit over a laced frock and high heeled boots paired with a top hat, the girls wearing very frilly dresses and either hats, bonnets, or large bows on their heads.
And amongst all this was a single human, a young woman who might have looked like an oversized doll at first glance, given that she also wore a fancy frilly dress. Specifically, one with lots of white lace and pink ribbons around the torso, alternating pink and white frills with golden trim and more pink ribbons on the poofy skirt part that reached just below her knees, and short poofy sleeves with pink and golden stripes. Below this she wore pink stockings, an excessively fluffy white petticoat, and white calf-high boots with golden buttons on the sides. Only a bit of light pinkish-brown skin showed on her arms, since the lower part was covered with white opera gloves with more golden trim. All this matched her light blond hair, part of which was braided around her head, part of which fell in single ringlets on the sides of her face. Atop this sat a crown made of porcelain and adorned with tiny rubies, more gold trim, and a couple of moonstones to match her baby blue eyes. To complete the regal appearance, she held a scepter exactly as long as the dolls were tall (they came up to about thigh height on most people), a golden one topped with a miniature version of her crown, though the only ruby present was a large one resting beneath the crown, which if one looked at it closely, held a small amount of a strange sort of mist.
After stretching out her arms, she leapt off the bed and tapped her scepter against her free palm. "Attention all members of our portable court!" she called, in a loud and high-pitched voice. "Now that we have settled in, it is time to admire the wonderful sights this journey through the stars brings us!" She waved her scepter around dramatically as she said this, and even bounced a slight bit on her heels. "So let us depart! Winky?"
From the bed, she retrieved a marionette, who had spent the last several moments twirling his curved grey mustache and adjusting the monocle covering one of his painted-on eyes. Though his shoes were painted onto his wooden feet and the same for the white "gloves" on his hands, the neatly-embroidered green long-tailed coat was not, made of the highest-quality cloth - and the same went for the matching top hat. His face had been painted with the exact same skin tone as that of the young lady, though his cheeks and the end of his comically round nose had some red on them.
"I say, this place looks remarkably different from Solevaille," said Winky, as the queenly lady placed him on her left shoulder.
"Hmm, I think we need a couple of you to stay here and look after the toys," said the queen. "Yuliya and Christen, that will be your job." She pointed her scepter at a pair of porcelain dolls who were presently sitting on chairs at the far end of the room, one of whom was the aforementioned boy and the other, a girl dressed mainly in blue and yellow. And then she turned back around. "Emille and Carlotta, you lucky ones get to come with me!"
With an obnoxiously sweet smile on her face, she turned to face the other two dolls, both girls, though only one was clearly made of porcelain (the other apparently some other type of clay since her complexion was not shiny). Emille, the porcelain one, stepped forward and put on her wide-brimmed red hat, adjusting a black pom-pom that had gotten stuck amongst the others around the rim, and also one of several ringlets of her copper-toned hair beneath it. In her glossy cream-painted face sat eyes with violet irises, and finely-crafted porcelain hands peeked out from the long frilly sleeves on her dress of crimson satin. On her feet she wore black boots with a three-centimeter heel, higher than what any other doll was allowed, and though she didn't need it, she insisted on bringing along her parasol, which matched her dress and had black lacy trim all around.
"But of course I should come with you," she spoke, her voice a bit lower and calmer than the queen's. "I'd consider it an insult if I didn't." Without so much as a goodbye to the other dolls, she turned around and headed towards the door.
The one non-porcelain doll, Carlotta, followed right behind her and the queen. Her hair was blond much like the queen's, though more of a honey-like color and perfectly straight, just long enough to touch her shoulders. Unlike Emille whose eyelids were built into her face, hers were hinged, with the eyes themselves a yellowish green. Atop her head was a bonnet, a carnation pink one overlaid with white lace. To complement it, her dress was a light spring green and very poofy, featuring a multi-layered white petticoat which showed beneath the embroidered bottom and covered her knees. The sleeves were long like Emille's, though soft and loose and ending in darker green frills at her wrists. Over this she wore what looked like a waistcoat in the front, the same shade of pink as her bonnet, but in the back it tied into a rather large ribbon. Beneath this dress, her white stockings were barely visible, since the raspberry-hued boots she wore extended into the bottom of the dress. While following them, she had a bit of an uncertain look on her face, deciding not to say anything for the time being.
"Make way for Queen Lucina Geppetto, of the Kingdom of Solevaille!"
Out in the hallway leading past the casino and the Quasarcade, Emille led the royal procession, holding her parasol out before her while some of the guests stepped aside, many of them muttering things like "my god, those dolls are alive!" along the way. Behind Emille, Lucina, the exuberant crowned lady from before, strolled along with pride, smiling brightly and waving to a few people along the way. Carlotta walked alongside her, scowling a slight bit at all the attention they were attracting; Winky just sat atop Lucina's shoulder, twirling his mustache as he always did, though at one point he did adjust the strings attached to the wooden crossbeams sitting on his back - after all, he was a marionette.
Club Bizarre (Nemaforte, The One Who Brings Horizons, Ethoya)
For the next few minutes, Nemaforte was focused on the tiny cauldron she was levitating above the flame conjured in her palm, letting the bitter, earthy vapors warm her face as the "Spiral of Pleasure" tea continued brewing. But after a few minutes, she saw a bright light out of the corner of her eye, accompanied by a voice, someone asking her about her wares.
It was good timing, for the tea had just finished brewing, and thus she quickly took a teacup she had borrowed from the parlor, placed a strainer over it, and dispelling the flame, she tipped the cauldron over so that its contents poured into the cup, leaving yellowish spiraling pieces on the strainer. After levitating the cauldron back onto the table (it was too hot to touch with her bare hands), she put the strainer on the saucer and took a sip of the tea, entirely unperturbed by its strong, concentrated bitterness.
It was only then that she looked up, and when she did so, she had to squint, because the woman before her appeared to glow in a very bright light, though said light was not physical and likely invisible to everyone else.note She barely even noticed the dark-ish hue of the woman's skin - though she did catch a faint glimpse of the golden feathered skirt. And as she looked slightly away, she saw another figure whose aura looked, well... unusual, clearly indicating something entirely otherworldly. Soon she found herself gazing in wonder at the lights encircling their head, and the highly unusual shade of their skin - dark blue was not exactly common to her.
After a long pause, she got a nagging sense that she ought to be doing something... oh, of course! A customer! Squinting again, she turned her gaze to the golden-skirted woman. "Forgive me for my squint - for very bright your aura is, and darkness is what is familiar to me." Here she took a larger swig of her tea, finishing it and setting the cup down. Once she did, she felt a great surge of energy through her body and mind, such that she shook a slight bit and her aura (if either of the two could see it) flared up and grew slightly brighter for a second.
"I sell herbs," she began, not caring that she was stating the obvious. "Ones for every purpose - ones that heal the body, nourish the psyche, bewitch the mind, ensnare the senses, and even put a stopper in death. Think of a purpose - very likely I will have an herb, a tea, a potion, tincture, or incense to suit the need. There is anything special that interests you, yes? If not, I can give a few recommendations."
edited 26th Feb '17 1:42:11 PM by ladytanuki
Come, my child of the devil. Your mother is calling you. Hear my call in Hell's grand hall, where all our dreams come true.
[Observation Deck]
The observation deck was a fairly quiet place, the better to appreciate the vastness of the stellar vista. Dark, muted colors dominated, and dim lights ensured the view was utterly breathtaking. The furniture was comfortable but bare, the better to give the deck a relaxed feeling, not unlike a patio or a campground. Indeed, there were a number of chairs arranged around patio tables, and towards the end, even a small fire pit, presently unlit. The deck was presently almost empty of people; it seemed most were more interested in the distractions below than the views above.
And at one of the chairs, contemplating the stars above (and below, and all around), was First Advocate Enkar Zaa. Even among the Kykzavi, he was massive. He stood at just over six and a half feet, and while most Kykzavi were heavily built, the First Advocate was practically a boulder. His dark brown eyes studied the world from behind circular wire-rimmed bifocals. His gray-white hair was cut into a short, practical mohawk; a traditional haircut among his people, essentially the same as a crew-cut. His face and scalp, naturally a light Mediterranean olive-brown, seemed to be more tattooed than bare. A maze of sharp geometries, darkened by the lines of his age, emphasized his vaguely Celtic features. Further tattoos, thick black lines approximately tracing major nerves, were found on the rest of his body. Beneath the vest were a number of thin burn scars, branching off from his spinal line tattoo and applied by blowtorch with such great care any symmetry that they couldn't be anything but intentional scarification. A knowledgeable eye would note that the tattoos had been applied with traditional methods — very painful traditional methods.
Enkar's sleeveless vest, large enough to close even around his bulk, was dark grey with black trim, made of silk imported from Uel, and unusually long, spilling down to his thighs. Close examination would bring the eye to notice subtle patterns, akin to the tattoos on his face, of a slightly darker grey. The vest had two pockets: one contained a pen, while the other contained a Terran smartphone. A thin Tesseract phone with a minimalist design philosophy and a carbon fiber grey finish that looked alarmingly delicate whenever it was in Enkar's massive hands. Enkar's knee-length, pocketed kilt, woven from the finest wools of Maur, shared a similar color scheme, but with white pinstripes that left it oddly akin to a Western-style suit. His wrist bore a stainless steel wristwatch; the main face face was divided into the eight segments of the Kykzavi clock, bore Kykzavi numerals, and was timed to the Alosian day. Inside it, a smaller Terran-style clock (albeit with Kykzavi numbers) was embedded and matched to GMT+9. No familiarity with Kykzavi fashion was necessary to get the intended impression: this was a man of simple tastes and great power.
He was sipping the last of a virgin pina colada — who would mock a hulking man covered in brutally applied tattoos for his drink choice? — with lines of tears beneath his eyes but a bittersweet smile upon his face. Normally he was not one for displays of emotion, or conversation about himself or his past. But today was a day for remembrance. How old would his elder brother, Motin, have been today? If he had lived to see the Revolution succeed, if the Grand Duke and his Ducal Guard had not captured him and tortured him to death? This would have been his seventieth birthday, this very day. Old age would be catching up to him now, as it was creeping up to Enkar at sixty-two. Even Kelel, still the ever-eager younger sibling in Enkar's mind's eye, would be fifty-eight, had a Vakaza bullet not ended his life so far before his time. What would they think of it all? Would they be proud of what Enkar had done?
Enkar then downed his drink in a last gulp, flagged down a nearby service droid, and said to him, "do bring me another of the same." He spoke English without translation magics in a deep, precise baritone, and had a slight but curious accent. The best comparison Terran observers had, and it was a poor one, was that he sounded sort of like a Russian who had learned to speak English in Jamaica. The droid quietly slid off to carry out the request.
edited 25th Feb '17 8:29:28 PM by KillerClowns
They/Them
[Deck 1, Nebula Lobby]
Joshua had noticed Pearl's amazement at the happenings of the cruise liner. They knew the look of someone who was just now being introduced to the fantastic, especially one at a controlled pace.
"It's always amazing the first time," They said aloud, but mostly directing it toward the group of six, "As long as it's not all at once, then it just sends you into shock. Even then, you gotta keep on your feet."
They looked toward the group and smiled, "The name's Joshua Murphy," they said, short introductions were best here.
Note to self: Pick less edgy username next time.
Getting time off had been an absolute bitch, but Proseda had finally convinced his boss that he'd slaved away enough in the last few months to allow him to go off world for a little bit. After the last incident
his boss hadn't been too inclined to let the incubus leave. Luggage in hand, he steps into the middle of his magic circle, begins the incantation and vanishes.
[Observation Deck]
Room rented and luggage deposited, Proseda makes his way to the observation deck. Not wanting to be stared at, he'd adopted a more normal form for this interstellar cruise. He'd gone with an ordinary height of 5"10' pale skin, blue eyes and a mass of blond hair formed in to a fauxhawk as they seemed boring enough. His outfit was fairly plain, consisting of a black graphic t-shirt and skinny jeans that he filled out reasonably well with his muscular build. As was typical for him, he didn't look a day over twenty five. Any reasonably accomplished mage could detect the magic swirling around him, maintaining his human form.
He steps out of the elevator humming a happy tune. It wasn't every day he got some time off work, and it was certainly rare he got to see something new and exciting. He gazes around, eyes drawn by the millions of stars and planets, light scintillating behind the glass. He turns to one of the servants and orders a stout, before his eyes fall on Enkar and his tears. His humming stops, and his smile fades, both seeming inappropriate. He considers turning back for a moment and going somewhere else, maybe the spa, but moments later a servant shows up with a pint of Guinness. Talking to such a massive man who clearly wasn't in a celebratory mood hadn't been on the agenda, but he could hardly throw out good beer or go running all around the ship drinking it. Besides, maybe the man could use some company.
He makes his way over to the man. Standing near the chairs, clutching his Guinness and looking at him, he tries to make conversation "The stars sure are beautiful out there, aren't they."
edited 25th Feb '17 11:33:47 PM by Aqueos
Bet you didn't see that coming
Teleportation Station (The Past, The Now and one standard-issue Mysterious Woman)
...
Er...
...
...
...
Um...
...
...
Shit.
Hey, guuurrrl, what is this?
It's a spaceship, buuuoooy.
I can see that. What, by the Reaper's bony ass, are we doing here?
Aren't you supposed to know everything, Ira?
About the past? Sure thing. But it seems that this place has no past to speak of. It's like the liner just popped into existence all of a sudden.
Nothing exists without the trace of the past, you should know it better than anyone. I think that sensing something or someone that shares the past with the world we come from might help you regain your knowledge. Come on. Spot the thread.
Why do I get the feeling that you've already spotted it?
Mmm-huhuhummm...
Know-it-all. Do you know how insufferable you're acting right now, Ora?
Can't imagine. Now, the thread!
The thread... Ah, there it is. The woman.
Yes, the person who appeared at Carpe Noctem's Teleportation Station. She, most definitely, is a woman and more often than not has the role of a woman. There are not many options in that regard. Orain, we've came to the place that multiplies available options and possibilities, even in that regard. The fact that pizza parlor on deck 2 has three bathrooms illustrates this fact perfectly. Men, women and everyone else.
It says "Gender-neutral WC", Iragan. I don't think it carries the meaning you put into it.
Don't believe me? Take this: not so long ago a plant person parked their pod at the docking area. Their species can reproduce without a number of partners, and recently, inside their body, they were carrying seeds they've pollinated. Once in a lifetime they can participate in a mass cross-pollination on their homeworld, to maintain the variety of genes within the population. They are most certainly alive, and their body produces waste. Which door should this strapping young gentleperson enter to dispose of it, hmm? "Ladies"? "Gents"?
Exposing me to this deluge of strictly personal information was completely unnecessary, but, point taken.
So, the woman, having handed her luggage to a bellhop robot (and eyeing him with poorly hidden curiosity) is walking to her room on the first deck, near the Abandoned Theater, looking around the Liner in pure astonishment, with the aforementioned robot acting as her guide. Which is interesting, since the woman is a guide herself. Quis praemonstrabit ipsos praemonstratores? But she is not your usual, point-of-departure-to-point-of-destination guide, since, eventually, all living beings reach this certain destination. Her guiding is in how you travel on the road, not how quickly you finish it. And if the manner of your travel satisfied the powers that the woman is subservient to, then you'll get appropriate after-travel rest. And other possibilities. The woman is a psychopomp in service of the Shattered World's incarnation of love. Psychopomps' style of guiding alternates between two extremities: taking just one individual under their wing, acting like a seeing-eye dog, thus ensuring the high quality of guiding; and substituting quality for quantity, by acting like a shepherd. In case of psychopomps of Ceallagh the incarnation of war, the flock consists not of lambs, but of stereotypical cannibalistic lemmings, since violent death makes one eligible for joining the Sower's host. The woman in question usually takes the middle ground, acting like a fisherwoman: cast a wide net and let the small fry slip through the holes. In fact, "the middle ground" is the right word for describing this woman: as I said before, she is most definitely a woman, too young to be called a crone and too old to be called a girl. She is of average height and figure. She is not ugly, nor is she stunningly beautiful. There's a reason for that. People expect a certain look of people in her line of work, so her superior changed her appearance in accordance with her specialization: an aspect of love called compassion. Beauty distracts, height intimidates, old age repulses, and being overweight limits wardrobe options. The woman rarely shows her true, original form and if she could take a form illustrative of her true age, it would fit in a glass. Contents of which could be scattered by the wind. Her current skin color is pale, she has wide cheekbones, she wears her waist-long black hair in a thick braid. Her striking, almond-shaped, grayish blue eyes are her most distinguishing feature. The gaze these eyes often give, by its depth and intensity, can be classified as "Cozy Fireplace": pleasant warmth slowly getting under one's skin. Sometimes they give the "Man-made Sun" look, that incinerates the recipient to the bone. And very rarely they look at someone with "Morning breeze", a playfully undressing gaze that makes some people uncomfortable. Speaking of clothes, she is wearing black waistcoat above dark blue blouse and black trousers. Comfortable yet stylish.
Now, why is she here, I wonder? This is a cruise liner. A psychopomp can't have a vacation, can she?
We'll soon find out.
Why do I get the feeling that you already know it?
edited 20th Sep '17 12:20:36 PM by Millership
Spiral out, keep going.
[[Room 7.017 —> Nebula Lobby]]
Tigris stood in front of the mirror in her cabin, drying and brushing her white-blonde hair. She was human, in her early to mid twenties, about 5’ 8” with a slender build. Her skin was fair and her eyes were a soft aquamarine. She had a pale lavender tattoo on the back of her left hand: the mark of a sorceress in the House of Illenmere. She considered pulling on a pair of fingerless gloves to cover it, but ultimately those remained in her bag. It wasn't like anyone would recognize the markings, anyway.
It’d been a long trip to the space liner. Teleportation hadn’t been an option, since she’d never been here before, so she’d had to endure the ride on the transport. “Bullet ships”, the crews called them. But now the difference was palpable, and she relished the cool freshness of the air around her, even in the modesty of her small cabin. She’d napped briefly, then had a shower and changed into a fresh t-shirt and shorts. Her regular clothes still smelled like the cabin of that stuffy, cramped transport, and there was no way she’d continue reminding herself of that if she could help it.
The team rotated their vacation time throughout the year, and now it was her turn. And unlike Theign, she’d actually be on vacation. She remembered all the times she’d argued uselessly with Theign when he called her scarcely an hour or two into each trip, demanding information on the location or its other guests. The cruise ship, the mountain inn, the casino…she was legitimately afraid that someday he’d have a heart attack. Shaking her head and giving a small, exasperated chuckle, she promised herself she would not fall into the same nasty habit. It had been a hard six months, and now some time away from the base was what she needed and deserved. She was not even sure how long that time would be, but she found it hard to believe a space liner would become boring anytime soon.
She was hungry. She put on her sneakers, grabbed her keycard and walked out into the carpeted hallway of the seventh deck, before realizing she did not know where the restaurants were. Shrugging, she headed to the Nebula Lobby where she had entered. She’d probably be able to find a map there, at least.
edited 26th Feb '17 12:34:47 AM by BrainSewage
How dare you disrupt the sanctity of my soliloquy?
[Deck 1 ~ Nebula Lobby] (Ayako, Junko, Mari, Minerva, Teri, Sophia, Wolfe, Gwion, Aubrey, )
The party of four made their way into Nebula Lobby from the Spaceport, recently arrived from their private shuttle(courtesy of a few pulled strings from AEGIS). The trip from Earth had been uneventful for the most part, except for everyone failing to notice Ayako wasn't strapped in when the artificial gravity of the Carpe Noctem kicked in. Surprisingly, she stayed asleep despite falling headfirst into her seat.
Ayako Watanabe was a girl who appeared to be five years younger than her actual age of fifteen, and, though she currently wasn't standing, stood a four and a half feet in height. Her outfit, best described as "lolita" fashion, was a knee length dress of dark purple fabric, trimmed with black lace. This was accompanied by a large waist ribbon and shoulder cape of a deep, vibrant purple, as well as white leggings and elbow length gloves, with black Mary Jane's on her feet. Her long, honey-brown hair framed her round, hazel-eyed face, topped off with a round, purple, boxy hat which absolutely refused to leave her head. The girl was being carried by her friend and teammate, Junko Shibata.
Junko was two years Ayako's senior, and a entire foot taller, and had an athletic build. In contrast to her teammate's opulent outfit, she wore light blue jeans, a plain red tee shirt, a simple pair of black athletic shoes, and a black, gray, and white striped hoodie, its arms tied around her waist with its hood tucked in. Her hair consisted of a short, fluffy mop of snow-white hair. The slightly more angular features of her face were accompanied by her black eyes and default frown.
Said frown deepened when she notice Ayako's hands firmly groping her chest. Stopping her self from dropping the piggybacking girl, she shrugged her shoulders, causing Ayako to wrap her arms gently around Junko's neck. Junko took in the sights of the expansive lobby, the fancy decorum, and the twin spiral staircases leading up to the second and third decks. Readjusting her grip on the girl, she picked up her pace to catch up with their chaperone and elder teammate, Mari Dojima.
Standing tall at six and a half feet, Mari was making her way towards the reception desk to check the group in. She was dressed in a casual outfit; black jeans and what could be best described as a deep blue sports bra, which drew attention to one of her more noticeable features, her very ample bosom which gave flagrant disregard to the laws of physics, as well as showing off her lean muscles. Her other attention grabbing features was her Maraschino cherry-colored hair that reached her shoulders, and the pair of curved, six-inch-long, jet black bovine horns protruding from just above her temples. Each horn had a trio of bells tied to them, jingling slightly with some of her head movements. Her left arm bore a black armband a few inches above the elbow, and she wore a small black square satchel which rested on her left hip.
Mari stepped up to a free clerk, taking a few papers from her satchel. The robotic attendant gave her a stare, prompting the woman to flash an amber-eyed smile, showing off twin cat-like fangs. "'Ello," she said with her Cockney accent, "We 'ave reservations."
The clerk looked over the papers before nodding and handing over a set of four electronic devices, akin to slim smart phones, "These serve as your room keys. They also serve as you means of payment while aboard this vessel, as well as access to the ship-wide wireless network. Your room is on Deck 6, Suite 202." The clerk tapped the screen, pulling up a map of the ship with a menu on the side. Markers indicated their current location, as well as that of their room.
Last but not least, was Minerva. While the other three were distinctly of Japanese origin, with a small bit of ambiguity on the part of Mari, Minerva on the other hand, with her blond ponytail and attentive blue eyes, hailed from the other side of the Pacific. Her overall appearances made her apparent age vague, anywhere from older teenager to someone in their late twenties. She wore a blue blouse with gray pants, black high heeled boots, and a dark blue camouflage short-sleeved halter-top jacket. In one hand she carried Ayako's purple umbrella.
She had caught up to Mari at the counter, and tapped on the woman's shoulder to get her attention. "If you would, I'll be taking one of those keycards now," she said, her American English lacking any form of specific accent.
"Right, 'ere you are," Mari handed one of the, for lack of a better term, smartkeys, over to Minerva. The girl nodded as she accepted, before disappearing into the crowd after taking a brief look at the ship map. Mari then realized she was left standing there holding Ayako's umbrella. She sighed before turning away from the counter to go hand off the other two key cards to the two teenagers.
Meanwhile, Junko decided to wander a bit. Not paying attention, she nearly walked into a man. "Oh, sorry!" she said, starting into a formal bow before realizing noticing the shift in weight on her back. She quickly readjusted Ayako, opting for a simple head nod instead. Junko sniffed. The man strangely enough had a pleasant aroma about him, invoking a sudden craving for sweets in her. Ayako murmured something indecipherable, as if sharing her sentiments while the younger girl slept on.
Taking a step back, Junko took stock of the situation she had managed to walk herself into. Before her was the honey-scented man, who wore a fancy high tech suit, the likes of which one of the "Mad Scientist Trio" of AEGIS would probably build over an eclectic weekend of moonshined energy drinks and assorted Hostess® products in a commandeered R&D facility. The others grouped nearby seemed more modernly mundane, baring the Victorian couple(she assumed they were a couple, they matched thematically).
Realizing that she was simply standing there after almost rudely bumping into someone, carrying an unconscious girl who was literally wearing her weight or more in assorted fabrics on her back, merely staring at everyone, especially considering Joshua had already introduced himself... "Hi, I'm Junko, and this is Ayako. Nice to meet you, I guess."
Starlight Restaurant (Deck 2)
Sitting alone at a table, eating a meal that looked decidedly spartan despite the fancy setting, was a girl who looked to be around sixteen in age and Caucasian in ethnicity. She was of average height and build for her age, and had straight, long dark blonde hair with bangs and hazel eyes. She wore a fasionable outfit consisting of a white shirt and black overcoat, coupled with a black skirt and black slip-on shoes.
Around her neck she wore a tight, wide necklace that appeared to be mostly made of metal. In the center of it, in an area wider than most, a dark blue, circular amethyst was set. The jewel bore a strange, soft internal glow; anyone supernaturally attuned would likely be able to tell that it contained magical power, albeit power that was currently inert.
In between bites of her food, the girl occasionally looked out the window she was sitting by, staring out into space. She seemed more thoughtful than anything else, although she also seemed a little uncomfortable.
Observation Deck
"Yes, yes it is," said another voice in response to Proseda's question, this one a somewhat deep voice bearing a Midwestern accent.
The speaker was a black man who appeared to be somewhere in his fifties. He was tall, perhaps around six feet, though he was noticeably shorter than the massive Enkar, and quite muscular as well. He was balding, but sported a short black beard, and had dark brown eyes. He wore a formal black suit consisting of a tuxedo and black pants; the sort that one might have worn to an interview or a fancy dance.
Most notably, his left arm was completely mechanical, and clearly high tech at that. While it was of such a width to match his normal arm, whoever built it didn't bother trying to make it look any less like a machine. The metal forming it was largely black in color, although there was the odd silver bit here and there.
As he spoke he too was mostly looking out to the stars, but then he turned to face his two newfound companions. He wasn't smiling, although his expression was pleasant all the same.
"If you two were about to have a more private conversation, I apologize for the interruption."
edited 26th Feb '17 2:13:11 AM by Yomegami
Icon by Civvi the Civilian!
Professional Recluse
Capital Plaza
Neon light flared through the city streets. Even in the hours of true night there were creatures coming and going. One among them a tall man in a dark green T-shirt under a thick jacket. His greying hair hung in a slight wave of casual unkemptness, a thin grey beard was a new edition but the crooked nose and blue eyes were the same.
Ulf Marten limped stiffly, a relic of another time making it's not so subtle presence known. No green again, a cruise liner in bloody space. It's like I'm in one of those Speculative Science magazines. He hoisted his duffle bag onto his back a little harder. She better be sure about this. He entertained the notion briefly that this would be a quiet trip, but somehow doubted it.
The beast within noted it wouldn't mind a noisy trip at all. Ulf gave a dry laugh he disguised as a cough and took out a bag with a herbal mixture in it. He cupped it in his hands and buried his nose in it. The strong smell of cinnamon, wood smoke, and a few other ingredients seared his nostrils. The wolf within put it's head on it's paws and went back to sleep but he could swear he felt it almost smile.
Nebula Lobby
The portal was just as unpleasant as any he'd used before. But he came through without falling and only a slight shake in response to the ever present feeling of dampness. Getting full in here. he noted of the entrance room. He took in the sight of robots, elegant decor, and the hints of technology underneath. Well that's literal.
Club Bizarre
The music thumped, creatures milled about doing anything and everything the mind could imagine, and some that could not be. Such interesting creatures. the being mused. They milled about the club, following no other path that could be defined aside from their own. Some steps they floated through the air in a complex pattern, others they stepped almost as if they were a living being. It's form was mutable as their translocation methods. Some stretches they phased through tables, chairs, and people as if an ethereal teal and yellow blob. Other's they coalesced into something solid and more humanoid. The rest were shapes of random composition and some completely devoid of order at all.
They took in everything, the club, the people, their expressions, their likely paths in the closed environment. Their interactions with each other, the parameters for their species, even atmospheric calculations. Such wild interpretation without goal or collection was not becoming of a Technomancer but at the moment they didn't mind. The data flowed like a cascade of marbles rolling across a surface and knocking into others until the world was an endlessly expanding web. One of the entropic presences within directed them to the bar. They transmitted a thought directly to the machine serving and acquired a drink written in a language unpronounceable to the normal mind.
The drink shivered in the being's entropic field, it gradually began shedding its physical form into the being's mass and when it finally disappeared entirely the being let out a pleased sound. Assorted hydrocarbons, higher level warped compounds, thermic-independent materials, and...a rare toxin from a higher dimension. Interesting.
They noted the other semi-material appearing being in the club. A casual analysis told them it was no Technomancer, Rift Demon, Xyloi or any other race they was highly familiar with. Novelty is so rare. But a nexus such as this holds much. they noted.
edited 26th Feb '17 4:19:08 AM by Slysheen
Stoned hippie without the stoned. Or the hippie. My AO3 Page, grab a chair and relax.
To dream is my right
Club Bizarre:
Truly, the more restful room did not betray their wish. Even the most brief of electromagnetic probings revealed many points of extreme interest, one of which defying even the wildest expectations of The One Who Brings Horizons. An almost perfect mimicry of the human form to the senses such creatures had, yet invisible to certain wavelengths and interacting with others in ways most unusual for a being of liquid water and hydrogen-carbon compounds. In fact, she seemed to be almost like a projection interwoven with controlled repulsion forces. A simulated body? Such a fascinating horizon to discover!
Yet there was a sensation beyond wavelengths, energy fields and particle beams. Further observation should precede more direct interaction. The ribbons and strings that formed most of their body tensed with nervousness and their core insulated itself further, venting less radiation than the already limited amount needed to interact with organic actors for extended periods of time. In the darkness of the room, their vague form was like a dense cloud of mist when seem against the wall, seeming to shift endlessly under the air current's influence without ever changing shape, while against the window their visage was almost indistinguishable from the void outside.
In this hiatus of action, this pause in the symphony of life, The One Who Brings Horizons felt a hint of cosmic oscillations, a momentary rise of the zero-point energy in the vicinity as the field being they studied dilated her presence beyond the limitations of conventional conceptions of space, to then condensate again in front a the small humanoid who seemed to be displaying plants... plants which The One Who Brings Horizons never saw before!
Letting their curiosity get the better of themselves, they relaxed their form and slid towards the table like a gentle cloud in the extreme latitudes of a watery planet, a thin "shadow" of thin ribbons and microscopic filaments trailing their dark translucid form like a comet's tail. After introducing themselves with a enthusiastic high-pitched chirp, they asked "Where are those plants from?" with a voice resembling more a string instrument or a synthetic imitation of one than any organic being... but despite their enthusiasm they tried to keep a respectful distance from the energy field being nearby, hoping that they guessed correctly what she would consider a respectful distance.
Although that cloudlike intelligence that approached them seemed to care not for personal space, quite alarmingly. While their external form showed almost no signs of change in the visible level, with the right tools it would be possible to notice a build up of electrical potential, a coiling of magnetic fields a larger infra-red radiation out-put, and with less mundane methods even a metaphysical change of sorts, like their mind was "pushing" out against the surroundings. And in a few seconds those changes were gone, reversed again with no visible action or reaction, The One Who Brings Horizons still standing next to the table waiting for an answer.
"The dried flowers are so beautiful, and it applies to all things living and dead."
The Prince of Foolish Relevations
Spaceship Docking Area -> Nebula Lobby (1st Floor)
Outside the ship, space could be considered calm- Certainly a strange sight for those unfamiliar with the area, but nothing of unusual interest. However, rather abruptly, space seems to... Shatter not far away from the outside of the docking area, as if reality itself had temporarily glitched out. Thus, emerging from that unnatural spatial distortion, is a small red fighter plane. Yet, rather than hover aimlessly, the thirty-foot machine soars towards the bay doors. Opening to let the spacecraft to land, it hits the ground and grind to a stop.
With the ship inside, the cockpit suddenly opens, and out of it comes a black-clad humanoid half-screaming & half-gasping for breath. Tumbling out from the side, the man pushes himself up with his hands and frantically rushes to underneath his ship. Pulling open a hatch, the man begins pulling off wires, before a young(?) girl falls into his arms. Unlike the man though, the girl almost looks sickly or malnourished, as if the bare minimum was done to keep her alive. Though her eyes could not be seen, she nonetheless turns her head around as if taking in the area.
With the girl held in a bridal carry, the man steps out from under the ship. Looking at his red machine, he goes 'Tch' before speaking more to himself & the girl. "Well, Crimson Exosso isn't too bad off for just surviving the apocalypse, but what the hell now?" Though the girl strains to speak up, the five foot ten man finally realizes he isn't alone. Yet upon seeing all the other spacecraft and individuals walking about, he can't help shouting "What the hell!?" Looking frantically about, he suddenly breaks off into a sprint with young girl in arm.
Rushing out from the docking area, the man seems to become increasingly more frantic as he notices nonhumanoid life. Darting pass what he could only assume might be storage areas, he doesn't stop running even as his lungs hurt. Finally breaking out into an area meant for gatherings, he stops shocked at seeing the elegant design of the lobby. Left hand reaching up without letting the girl fall, he pulls at his face- And pops off half a mask, revealing black hair & a brown eye, looking a lot like a Hispanic teenager.
The place still looking the same, the young man drops to his knees, speaking softly to himself. "The universe is destroyed, and I end up on a cruise ship. What the hell? This can't... This can't be real." Tears beginning to stream from his exposed eye, the pale-skinned girl in his arms touches his exposed face. Running his right fingers through her very short but messy platinum blonde hair, the young man looks up to see some robots approaching him. Making a mix between a groan and a whine, he calls out loud enough to hear. "Great, what do you tinbuckets want? Kind of late to save the universe by purging all humans, though frankly I have no idea what's going on now... Killing God was stupid though, I agree with that."
"The Omniverse is the collection of all possibilities, and all possibilities must eventually come to pass."
[Observation Deck]
Enkar studied the newcomers as they came. First, the pale, well-built human in Terran-style fashion drinking a dark beer; Enkar lacked any arcane senses to detect more. Then the cyborg, in Terran formal wear. His augmentation was more advanced than any Enkar had seen before; even the American Sol III Foundation hadn't gotten their augmentations and prosthetics to that level of technology. Terrans, or something like them... strange company. But for the time being, he would give these apparent children of the Dying World the benefit of the doubt.
So Enkar gave a friendly smile to clearly indicate he did not mind the company and said, "indeed — the intricate beauty and sheer vastness of the cosmic tapestry has a way of thoroughly disarming one's pretensions, especially when viewed anew after years living in a city whose light pollution veils most of it." His smile briefly turned to a frown. "The price of progress, I suppose; all things have their costs..." he paused, shook his head. "Apologies if I ramble; today is bittersweet. A celebration the thirty-fifth anniversary of the Revolution's victory, but also a day to remember those who could not be here to see the triumph of justice over tyranny. If you have lost friends or family in the course of fighting for a righteous cause, I am sure you understand." He clasped his hands together, held them beneath his chin, and gave a sharp nod. "First Advocate Enkar Zaa of the Republic of Zavi, at your humble service, and I am happy to share your company, although as you can see, I am not a font of cheerful dispositions at this particular moment."
[Club Bizarre]
Ethoya gave the astral entity a sideways glance and polite nod. She wasn't so sure about its brief... probing? But she supposed that was just how it interacted with the world. Then there was the ever-shifting... what in the Void was that? Something about its "feel" vaguely reminded Ethoya of a Dead God, which was weird, because Dead Gods lacked souls and were inextricably linked to their aquatic-looking physical forms, and this thing seemed to be quite non-physical. So it was definitely new to her, whatever it was. It had been centuries since this many new things had gotten dropped on her, and never so quickly... Ethoya was quite enjoying it.
She turned back to the short, pale merchant and said, "anything you recommend for relaxation? It's been quite a long time since I've had a chance to not worry about the world, and something to help me keep not worrying, at least for now, would be wonderful." If she wasn't careful, after all, Ethoya would hear some fool's minor prayer, forget she was on vacation, and try to either help them out or gleefully teach them some cryptic lesson. And she'd done enough of both for the time being.
edited 26th Feb '17 12:39:57 PM by KillerClowns
[[Nebula Lobby]]
Tigris looked all around the lobby, marveling at the variety of guests. This was far from her first journey to alternate worlds and dimensions, but the differences never ceased to amaze her.
She made her way to the reception desk tended by a row of silver droids. She would probably only need to see the map once; her trained navigational senses would guide her from then on.
“Excuse me, could you—“
Suddenly, a man bolted into the lobby, breathing harsh and fast, his mask hanging halfway off his face. And, she noted with horror, he carried a young woman in his arms. She looked sick and very weak—what could have happened to her? He knelt down in the lobby, stroking her short silver hair, visibly disoriented and oblivious to the onlookers.
The staff droids approached him as he whispered, either to the young woman or to himself. But upon seeing them, he looked up, tears in his eyes, and spoke.
“Great, what do you tinbuckets want? Kind of late to save the universe by purging all humans, though frankly I have no idea what's going on now... Killing God was stupid though, I agree with that.”
Purging humans? Killing God? Whatever ordeal these two had just emerged from, it must have been unimaginably horrific. Tigris wished she’d brought that vial of desfreglia. The stabilizing potion would relax him so he could speak intelligibly, and allow them all to determine how best to help. But since she didn’t have that, and she knew of no universe in which robots had eradicated humans who had killed a god, she’d have nothing but her wits and her spells to assist her.
Slowly, so as not to startle or provoke the man, she approached him and knelt beside him. “You’re safe here,” she said in her soft, cool voice. She tried to meet his eyes. “Whatever nightmare you’ve just come out of, it can’t reach you now.”
edited 26th Feb '17 11:43:40 AM by BrainSewage
How dare you disrupt the sanctity of my soliloquy?[Observation Deck]
While Proseda had been expecting some sentimentality, he was hardly expecting it to be about some "revolution". He knew nothing of what it meant to be a "First Advocate", nor of the supposed former tyranny of this "Republic of Zavi", but he'd dealt with enough of this kind of affair to know that there was no knowing what this actually meant. Sure, he could be talking to some senator in a now prosperous nation that had replaced a madman with democracy, but there was also a decent chance he was dealing with some co conspirator of a dictator who had committed all manners of atrocities to take power. Quite frankly, he wasn't particularly interested in finding out by receiving an earful of the propaganda du jour.
He responds in a rehearsed manner, smiling slightly, "We all lose something in moving forward." He pauses, sipping his beer, savoring the sweet head. "The name is Proseda."
Bet you didn't see that coming
Friendly Neighborhood Lich
Club Bizarre (Nemaforte, Horizons, Ethoya, "Digital Being")
So this bright-fielded gold-clad lady needed something for relaxation, eh? Well then, that presented many options. But as she was studying her herbs and considering which one to recommend, the celestial-bodied being drifted over to the table, asking where said herbs came from.
"They come from Zurem," Nemaforte replied. There was a pause, as she got the sense that neither of these two knew what "Zurem" was. Oh, of course, how could she forget - the guests aboard the Carpe Noctem were from all sorts of different planets, she remembered as she was checking into her hotel room/herb conservatory. "Also known as the dark side of my home planet of Orenya, sunlight is never seen, so these herbs are never green. Except for Eldamor..." her voice trailed off as her gaze drifted over to a collection of bright pistachio-green leaves, the only green leaves in her entire collection. "Their energy collected is from moonlight, so there is much magical energies inside them."
As she lifted her gaze from the sole green herb, she spotted another peculiar aura in the corner of the room. Though unlike the celestial being, this one was completely amorphous... and strangely enough, upon closer inspection, much the the "aura" was more akin to electricity... though little did she know that the aura was actually a minute magnetic sort of field around living things, so the two were technically the same. What sort of herb could that thing be interested in, if it even was interested? This place attracted strange people indeed... and something in the back of her not-quite-sane mind told her that she was perhaps the most "normal" of the bunch here, being a mortal organic being.
Thus, she pushed the only two roots she had on the table aside, as anything of a strictly chemical nature would likely not work at all on otherworldly beings. And what was she looking for? A relaxing herb? "Many an herb I have for relaxation, as I use many myself. It sounds like looking for something you are to break from the mundane... rather peculiar for a higher being like you. There are three I can recommend."
She moved three things over to the center of the table. First she withdrew a dried white leaf from a jar. "These are the leaves of drimariya, or Tree of Dreams. Though a bit mild, used it can as a tea or an incense immediate before sleep, and encourages pleasant dreams." Dropping the leaf back in the jar, the next thing she withdrew was a smaller jar containing some spherical light blue mushrooms that seemed to glow a slight bit. "If looking you are for something more intense, might I recommend turian-wishta, or Mushroom of Time. This slows down time itself, allowing appreciating the details of the smaller things in life from a distant point. It is one of my favorites myself, along with this." And here she retrieved the glittery blue bottle filled with liquid, one which she spent several moments rubbing her hands over, as if reveling in its feel. "This is my most popular concoction, the Cosmic Potion. Powerful it is at enhancing the psychic senses, and good for depression as it uplifts the mood. Do any of these interest you?"note
The tea she had just drunk was already kicking in, such that she began to feel prominent vibrations in her hands especially, and also her face. As she glanced down at a hand towel she kept around in case of spillage, she felt a strong urge to snuggle it like a soft blanket... but resisted, as these customers were more important, so instead she placed both hands on the table, not realizing that her hands were actually hovering a couple of centimeters above it. Speaking of which, there was the celestial being, who she turned to as she waited for the embodiment of goodness and light to decide. "How about you?" she mused, finding pleasure even in the act of speaking, though her facial expression remained neutral with perhaps some curious satisfaction. "What other perspective on existence might you seek? What ailment might you want to levitate? And your unshapely form as well?" she added to the amorphous being hovering on the fringes of the room (and perhaps reality). "Hate I will to offend, but... may I touch you? Very curious since your form is."
Lucky Star Casino -> Starlight Restaurant 1F (Lucina, Emille, Carlotta, the tuxedonote teen)
The royal procession continued past the Quasarcade, past a couple of lounges Lucina didn't quite feel like entering at the moment, though Carlotta eyed these with curiosity. However, she was visibly intimidated when they passed by the Black Hole Lounge, as she had already had a frightening experience involving dark and creepy stuff. Lucina apparently was too, thus they all kept their distance from that place. Instead they passed by the Nebula Lobby, where they saw quite a gathering of people... their eyes fell in particular on a man who clearly looked like he came out of the Victorian era, though dressed a bit more plainly (and the same went for his wife) than she and her dolls would have liked (Emille in particular cast a disapproving look at the two as they passed above).
Finally they came to the end of the deck, just in time for Lucina's stomach to growl. And they found themselves gazing up at a sign that read "Starlight Restaurant". Peering inside, they could see a large number of tables, many of which had people sitting at them. Lucina sighed.
"Well, I would have preferred a quiet little tea parlor, but..."
"I think I remember seeing a little cafe on the map," Carlotta mentioned. "It's on Deck 10 I believe."note
"Deck 10!?" Lucina exclaimed. "I'll starve to death before I walk up all those stairs!"
Emille shook her head. "You do realize there are elevators on this ship. Though they do look unsettlingly futuristic."
"Those things creep me out," Lucina mentioned, gazing at a nearby set of such elevators. "I mean, they are likely more safe than the rail-bound ones familiar to us, but... as queen, I have too much to lose! No, princess and former mayor and uh, adorable Ceramic," she added to Carlotta, before dramatically gesturing forward with her scepter. "This large establishment is where we must conquer our hunger! And look at all the people! This will be a fantastic opportunity for some publicity!"
Emille was not pleased. "Publicity. If that's what you wanted, why did you stay cooped up in the castle all this time."
Lucina rolled her eyes. "Tch, well of course, it's because I was too busy with court stuff for that sort of thing!"
Carlotta joined the eye-rolling party. "Too busy lounging on your throne," she muttered under her somehow-present-despite-being-a-doll breath.
And so the group waltzed into the restaurant, happily requesting a table for three. To which the robot attendant tipped the bowler hat he was inexplicably wearing and said, "Certainly your majesty, follow me." To which Lucina practically squeed. "Finally, someone who recognizes how important we are!"
Carlotta rolled her eyes again. What a ham.
In fact, once they got their table, Lucina did in fact order ham. Not on a sandwich, but on a plate with honey drizzle and whatever they recommended for vegetables, along with a pot of tea and a round of macarons for the dolls.
"Uh, but they are dolls," said the robot waiter.
"And?" Lucina spoke sharply. "What does an automaton like you know about magic? I insist!" As she watched the robot walk away, she sat back in her chair, fiddling around with her scepter.
That's when she noticed a young lady sitting by herself at the next table over, eating her meal in silence. But what really caught her attention was the gem on her necklace. For a while she gazed between it and the large ruby on her scepter... and just like the latter had a strange misty wisp inside of it, she saw a similar presence inside that gem. Carlotta noticed it too, scooting over to the edge of her high chair to get a better look... but she leaned too far and knocked the chair over. She wasn't hurt though, being quite sturdy for a doll... for a while she was thankful she wasn't made of porcelain.
"Oh, hello," Carlotta greeted, looking up at where she had landed right next to the girl's chair. "Why are you sitting by yourself? Don't you feel lonely?"
"My thoughts exactly!" Lucina chimed. "And thus I declare that you have the honor of sitting with us, if you'd like! That is a very beautiful necklace you are wearing by the way."
"My name's Carlotta by the way," she said to the girl. "Carlotta Posset. What's yours?"
edited 26th Feb '17 1:19:02 PM by ladytanuki
Come, my child of the devil. Your mother is calling you. Hear my call in Hell's grand hall, where all our dreams come true.
This is my good side.
(Pod Docking Area)
This place was bustling with robots working, checking local and visiting ships, cleaning, and overall making sure the place was clear and ready to receive any visiting ship that arrived. However, it was relatively void of visitors, only a few checking in from custom ships or leaving, either in a rented pod for recreation, or on a larger one for good. In the middle of all this organized chaos, a portal opened, dropping a small individual on the floor.
This individual seemed to be a female teenager, and looked like a human with lizard traits. Her face was slightly triangular, with fair skin, small nose and mouth, and red-coloured eyes. Her ears were pointy and covered in small green scales, as well as a small patch of scales on her cheeks, that reached down to her nape. Above her temples, was a pair of short antlers. Her hair was red as her eyes and long, made into a single braid that went down her neck to nearly hip level.
Body-wise, she was 5'8" tall, with a lean yet slightly muscular physique. On her torso she wore a grass green short-sleeved cloth top, that reached down to her thighs, with slits so her legs could move freely, and was buttoned on the front at the left side. The top had a golden embroidery around it, depicting what looked like a maned serpent. On her legs, a pair of simple short loose pants. Her arms and legs were reptilian limbs, covered in green scales. Her fingers ended in claws, pointy and a little sharpened. Her legs, also covered in large green scales, were twisted like that of a cat, so that only the elongated toes, also ending in sharp claws, touched the floor. From her lower back, under her clothes, emerged a long, green scaled tail, that ended in a tuft of red hair.
This girl, Ryya, shook her head, and stood up. "Ow." She muttered as she shook her head and stood up. When she looked up, she was left speechless at the sight before her. The bright, clean, pretty much sterile look of this place was unlike anything she had seen before. It kind of reminded her of the Temple of the Great Dragon, back in her homeland, at least in sheer size, but this place seemed to be made entirely out of metal rather than stone. A myriad of beings milled about the place, walking, floating or sliding.
So marveled at this she was, that she didn't notice that when she tried to move, she almost stepped on a small box at her feet. Except the box moved around and started chirping angrily.note "S-Sorry! Sorry!" Ryya couldn't help but try to apologize, and the matl box ended up storming off in a huff. This place was seriously weird. The girl looked at the floor and could spot her possessions: a long bamboo staff, with a thick cloth bag tied to an end. Ryya picked it up and slung it over her shoulder, ready to go, but she still had no idea where to go.
She wandered around the place for a while, before she was approached by another metal box, this one floating in the air, and having several black holes on it. note "Hello. Do you need some help?" It asked in a distorted, metallic voice.
"Uhh..." Ryya couldn't help but to stare. Now they could talk? This place was weirder by the second. "I... don't know where I am."
"If you have just arrived, you should register at the Nebula Lobby. It is beyond the Storage Room, that way." The box answered, looking back to wehre Ryya was facing, and the hall seemed to go on. "Any question should be asked in the information desks, located in the Nebula Lobby. You will be indicated where your room is, and any further information you require." With this said, the box turned around and left floating.
Ryya sighed, and followed the box's advice. Beyond the 'Storage Rooms', which looked like giant metal columns that could be opened and closed, as well as in the walls, Ryya arrived at the Nebula Lobby. It was everything the previous hall was not, lavish, and more crowded since it was smaller. Despite being partially distracted by the sight, Ryya made her way to her way to what looked like the reception desk. It was occupied by what it looked like a metal humanoid.
"Hello. Welcome to the IMS Carpe Noctem. How may I help you?" It asked in a metallic, female-sounding voice.
"Hi!" Ryya greeted back. "I was... told I could ask about where am I."
"This is the IMS Carpe Noctem, first official space cruise liner, and vacation spot for many beings across the galaxy and beyond. " The creature responded. "Will you be staying with us?"
Ryya did not really understand what that thing had just said, but liked the idea of staying, at least for a while. Whatever this 'space liner' was, it seemed like a great place to explore, as weird as it was.
"Sure!"
"Very well then." The creature went on. "Do you have a reservation?"
"Uhh... I think not..."
"It looks like. That paper sticking out of your bag." The thing pointed to a strip of paper that was carelessly sticking out of a hole in Ryya's sack. Was that htere before? She didn't remember picking that thing up. Ryya took it and handed it to the creature, which tucked it away, reached under the desk, and pulled out a small object made of an unknown material. "This is your room key. It also serves as you means of payment while aboard this vessel, as well as access to the ship-wide wireless network. Your room is on Deck 4, Spaceview Stateroom 150."
"Thank you." Ryya took the object and kept it on her sack. Her room could wait for now. This place was weird but amazing, and Ryya wanted to see every part of it. Now, if only she could get going, because she was still watching like an idiot how high the Lobby reached.
edited 26th Feb '17 1:55:11 PM by Pyxo
Welcome to the 28th installment of the Character Development Threads! Here you may utilize a shared setting to have your characters interact with those belonging to other writers. No sign-ups are necessary and you can join anytime. We just recommend that you read the OP, check the last few pages of the thread, and look at the wiki page first.
Make sure to stop by the discussion thread if the thread's gotten long and you need a recap or if you have any questions. It's also where we contain the majority of our out-of-character chatter, so do keep an eye on it if you plan to participate.
Discussion thread
/ Thread page
It is helpful to have your character come in with a predetermined goal or motivation to help guide character interaction, but this is simply recommended, not required.
Thanks to: Wolf1066, Will De Regio, Eterna Memoria, and VioletN for ship design; Masterofchaos for interior design; VPhantom for enthusiasm; Blackfire667 and Mrship21 for helping decide on the setting; nrjxll for offering general advice on how to design a CDT... screw it, let's just say everyone who posted in the discussion thread since the idea was posed helped out in some way.
A short time ago in a galaxy far, far away...
Flying around in the nearest and farthest reaches of outer space, the IMSnote Carpe Noctem is an intergalactic cruise liner of astronomical proportions. She is truly built for luxury, featuring all the amenities the most extravagant of ocean liners would provide, except IN SPACE! She even looks like an ocean liner, though without a hull. She has no destination and seemingly no origin, picking up and dropping off passengers during its aimless wandering through the universe and allowing them to seize the night.
Instead of people, the ship is staffed by robots, ones of every conceivable shape, size, and type - though occasionally there are people who volunteered to help out as assistants. These robots are all generally benevolent and are suited to every service and maintenance job on board, from bartenders to janitors to bellhops to the elusive starship captain. However, it would seem the ship is far too large for its purpose, as there are a few large areas left abandoned or underattended. Having not to worry about weight limits, it can fit thousands of passengers, and features thousands of hotel-style rooms of varying sizes to accomodate them.
Passengers arrive in one of several ways. Some mysteriously teleport in from transport decks. Some arrive on space pods (the ship's equivalent of life boats) traveling to and from planets the ship passes by. Others even arrive on their own, mainly smaller, starships, for which the Carpe Noctem has storage space on the bottom deck. And in the same fashion, they can leave at their will.
There are no special memberships on this ship's fares - such is only determined by the guests renting out spaces like rooms, ship docking stations, and storage facilities. And there are no official rules, except the general consensus is to have fun and avoid damage to the ship and its occupants. It's an intergalactic space party, and everyone is welcome.
Come, my child of the devil. Your mother is calling you. Hear my call in Hell's grand hall, where all our dreams come true.