Ambrosia Garden Archive
    • Dark tresses of trappistine filaments framed a creamy visage. Dual orbitures took a brief sweep of fellow extremities, and, in turn, all consisting anima. Baggy cargo leggings held loose to legs but firm to waist, many unique black belts and red belts hanging from it, along with countless chains. Neck was enslaved by a leather black collar, average with no special symbols besides a gothic symbol hanging from the front. Short sleeved shirt covered most of structure and a lightly built chest, silken and button up. From the forearm down was black fishnet that went around the bottom of his thumb and back. On his right forearm, the bottom of a rosary was hanging there, red wooden beads with a crucified man there. His nails were painted black, also. Combat boots, leather also, dissapeared behind the cargo pants, only the steel tip showing. Black, or course, besides the steel which was gleaming platinum.

      Down the pathway he went, constant silent footfalls padding the loose terra and leaving small imprints. Once he reached solid grounding his boots gave a click at every step. His head moved slowly upwards as eyes observed a small insignia:Albatross. He opened the door and walked in. Rose lips gave a warm smile to all who looked at him, and he took a seat at the bar. Mainframe turned as he faced the bar, popping a cigarette into his mouth and lighting a small match. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes periodically, then exhaled through his nostrils, and he played with the smoke using weave, making silhouettes of dark figures playing around in a scene of tranquil beauty, black and grey. Getting tired of it, he let is disperse in evanescence infront of his eyes. Lips parted to emit a soft yawn and he stuck the cigarette in his mouth again, having removed it to exhale earlier, then, just, sat, not really wanting anything to drink. Darkness was...bored.

      ------------------

      | Phantasmaegoria |<<
      -=___________________=-

      (This message has been edited by Phantasmaegoria (edited 04-15-2004).)

    • "What'll it be?" DZ contemplated the goth sitting at his bar.

      After a few seconds and no reply, he went back to polishing the bar and arranging bottles while thinking of how best to continue the story.

      ------------------
      Proud member of
      [The Fifth Column](http://<br />
      thefifthcolumn.blogspot.co<br />
      m).

    • "Oh. Um. Do you just have some icewater with a lemon thrown in?" He nods to him then looks around, moving as his purple katana that was wavy in places, in others straight, was prodding him, so that it was more comfortable. "Thanks" Paying whatever the toll was.

      ------------------

      | Phantasmaegoria |<<
      -=___________________=-

    • Quote

      Originally posted by Phantasmaegoria:
      **"Oh. Um. Do you just have some icewater with a lemon thrown in?" He nods to him then looks around, moving as his purple katana that was wavy in places, in others straight, was prodding him, so that it was more comfortable. "Thanks" Paying whatever the toll was.

      **

      hey buddy, whatcha doin ere, may I suggest posting somewhere besides the RPing bars. 😄

      ------------------
      Cmon people, the (url="http://"http://www.AmbrosiaSW.com/cgi-bin/ubb/forumdisplay.cgi?action=topics&number;=20&SUBMIT;=Go")Chronicles(/url) are worth looking at.

    • Hmm... When is this bar gonna DIE!?!

      I am becoming more active now and I'm looking for something to do with my time. I'd join this bar, but too much has happened.

      ------------------
      Insanity has its advantages
      "I- I Swear Officer.. The Dwarf was on fire when I got here!"
      Sorry -REDCHIGH-, It just fit so well.

    • Larra made the rest of the journey through Voinian space in a fairly cheerful state, though she never did find out what prank Demon was planning. He had come up awhile ago, and promply refused to say anything.

      Though she had already found the piece and alerted Ta-vora, Larra still scanned every system she entered, just so the Arada following her wouldn't notice any difference in her routine.

      Kamikaze reached Emalghion space and continued on towards Kirrim; Larra debating now how she was going to get back to the Albatross - without her escort.

      ------------------
      If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

      (This message has been edited by Synesthesia (edited 04-16-2004).)

    • Quote

      Originally posted by U.E. Admiral:
      **Hmm... When is this bar gonna DIE!?!

      I am becoming more active now and I'm looking for something to do with my time. I'd join this bar, but too much has happened.

      **

      OOC: Just make a char and have him do something, page is still in the station and he can fill your char in..

      Page looked over at the new arrival on his left. Then to the purple sword at his waist.
      "Hrmmm....."
      The boy's eyes darted over Page, then returned looking forward.
      Page set out his minds eye and began to scan the boy. He wasnt weave capable but there was something that was eerily complex about his human mind.
      "You looking at something?" The boy said breaking Page's concentration.
      "Um, just wondering if you had an extra cigarette."
      "Sure," The boy produced a cigarette and handed it to Page. "need a light?"
      Page shook his head, and placed the cigarette in his mouth right off his peircings. He snapped his fingers and a small tuft of black flame lit his cigarette.
      "Whats your name?" Page asked the blank faced boy.
      The boy just changed his gaze to meet Page's dark sunglasses.
      "Thats an awfuly nice sword you've got there, know how to use it?"
      "Of course I do."
      "****ing great, so why dont you and I have a little practice, you know, a little one on one. what do you say?"
      The boy just continued to stare at Page blankly.
      Page leapt to his feet and began clearing a big space in the bar. He kicked over a few tables and told more than a few people to "piss off" and soon enough there was a big open ring.
      "You dont even have a sword," the boy mused. He then flashed a rather toothy grin when Page picked up a roll of burlap fabric about 5 and a half feet long and held it like a sword.
      "What? you scared i might win?"
      The boy drew his sword and farmiliarized his hand with the handle. He then took a few practice swings, slicing through the smokey air cleanly.
      "Lets get this over with," The boy said.
      Page took off his glasses and chucked them across the bar. Page's open eye glistened even through the dim light. Page whipped around the long burlap roll and it slid off revealing his sword of kings.
      Page brought up his long ornate sword to touch the boys purple one.
      "Go.." he said calmly opening his closed eye, flashing a sort of pained expression for the mere seccond he kept it open.
      Page smiled and brought up his sword to make an attack, only to have to parry a quick attack from his opponent.
      "hrmm he's not bad.."
      Page parried a few more attacks and went on the offencive. His many quick sweeps were all parried.
      "You're very good... Infact almost inhumanly good."
      Page flared his nostrils and stopped messing around, darkness felt as if he was being charged from all sides and swung his sword in desperation. he felt a sharp pain run dowh his spine and reeled back from the recoil of a weave assault.
      The boy looked up, a hint of fear in his expression.
      "What are you?"
      Page grinned and brought his sword up onto his shoulder.
      "Something the likes of which you've never seen. You did handle yourself quite well. I must say, most people cant evem cut me.
      Page rolled up his sleeve revealing a long scratch on his forearm.
      "You just need to carge more agressively.."
      The boy stood up and sheathed his sword. Page returned his sword to its burlap sheath and put on a new pair of glasses that just appeared out of no where.
      "Did i catch your name?"

      ------------------
      Valence, Always aiming for the stars...
      Then realizing he should have shot the bodyguards first...

    • "Darkness." Said warm lips that were seemingly returning from a long, tusked smile, and his arm was rapidly changing back from a demonically scary looking claw. He flipped a cigarette into his mouth, hair flowing freely. " But you can call me Veil. " His steel toed boots were lifted slightly to move long, also creepy tail back into his body. This all happened in a matter of seconds. He did it so that Page could see, but no one else. His shoulder guard strayed a little and let back two large spikes. His eyes turned from an unholy red that sometimes even scared himself to a soft green, and in moments he was human. " I kinda like you" Said Veil. Page stared blankly. Veil answered his obvious unspoken question with a wink. He leaned against an overturned table and sighed, bored. " Weave users always got me...luckily I'm not so average, so it doesnt affect me fully. But I gotta say...your strong. You probably could have killed me there, good job...Page is it? " Another wink. "So, you with the Feds or rebels? I'm in between-ish. But have to say, I'm not so fond of the law. He twirled his blade with dull expertise and masterfully sheathed it. His cigarette was lit by a small lighter in Veil's poackets, rustling many chains and belts in doing so.

      ------------------

      | Phantasmaegoria |<<
      -=___________________=-

    • Quote

      Originally posted by U.E. Admiral:
      **Hmm... When is this bar gonna DIE!?!
      **

      OOC: At a thousand posts. We're getting close, people. I think perhaps we should all start wrapping up our various storylines. The new bar will be started in the usual style as this one, I assume... however that is... Anyway, I'm going to ditch DZ's storyline, and stick with just reading and being the barkeep. Keep up the good posts.

      DZ admired the masterful display of swordplay taking place in the Albatross. I wonder if people would pay to see people spar... or perhaps bet on a winner? With this thought in mind, DZ made a menal wager in Page's favor. Something about that dude's total randomness tells me he's a bit more powerful than he lets on. And by a bit, I mean a hell of a lot.

      Seeing that the outcome was rather more of a tie, DZ considered himself right... at least half way...

      "Hey, Page, and... What's your name again, friend?" DZ called from the bar, "Would you guys be interested in sparring again? No blood, first one to disarm his opponent gets a free drink of his choice... It's rather entertaining, since nobody's here to shove into the acid pit..."

      ------------------
      Proud member of
      [The Fifth Column](http://<br />
      thefifthcolumn.blogspot.co<br />
      m).

    • At the same time in a different place

      A strange sensation fills the senses, a sensation difficult to classify. An unusual feeling running down the spine, like a shiver but unlike it. The feeling becomes stronger and stronger and transforms into a rather familiar sensation pain. Terrible pain, originated in the back of the skull, burning down the spine and running through the entire body as if there were hot lava flowing through the veins instead of blood. The body convulses uncontrolled as the pain rages, wiping away any self-control, causing the victim to scream in horror.
      The pain vanishes as quickly as it came, the exhausted victim drops to the floor, panting rapidly.
      A figure, seemingly standing within fog that covers it like a grey veil, drops a blue glowing crystal next to the body lying on the floor.

      Screaming, Ta-vora wakes from his sleep. He is drenched in sweat after the terrible nightmare he had.
      He hits the lightswitch but immetiately regrets it. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shuts off the lights again and raises from his bed. Thanks to his hunter genes, he is able to use a nightvision.
      He heads to the bath cabine and splashes some water into his face.
      Strange, it felt so real it felt like someone superior would touch my matrix but that never happened, so how could I know how it feels?
      The matrix could only cause such pain if someone with superior psionic powes touches it.
      This was not a nightmare, it was a vision. Ki-jara it must have been her. Why do they do this to her? A bit more had killed her. Don't these Voininans know this? On the other side strange I didn't know that there are Voinians with psionic abilities random mutations, I guess. But anyway, I fear we're short on time. I hope the crystal chip will hold a clue to her location.
      Ta-vora felt that he could not sleep any more this night, the nightmare had pushed his adrenaline level too high, so he got dressed and made his way to the regeneration chamber.

      Sitting in the middle of the white kayarin crystals was one of the most wonderful feelings a Ka-nuth could experience. His matrix prevented his mind from getting lost within the swirling energies. It absorbed them and let them flow through the body. Ta-vora could almost feel the energies as if they were material.
      It has been too long since my last regeneration. I really needed this.
      Meditating in the flow of energies, he tried to expand his mind, touching a few other powerful psionic beings. He sensed Page, still waiting on Atlantic Station and a strange, dark mind bearing unusual energies close to him. Feeling their energies without them noticing him, he searched for the once so familiar energies of his companion. But like every time, he could not find a trace.

      After two hours of regeneration, Ta-vora leaves the chamber and heads for the bridge. It is 4 AM ship-internal time, so the officers on the bridge look at him a bit curious.
      “Couldn't sleep.” he says, looking at the panorama view.
      A yellow-white nebula can be seen in front of the ship. To the left was a star, that was darkened by the automatic view filters.
      “Where are we?” Ta-vora asks.
      “System DSN-1597, we need to refill our energy banks. This is the Ji Nebula over there. Beautiful, isn't it?”
      “Ayie.” Ta-vora replied.
      Strangely enough, the nebula reminded him to the swirling energy pattern of one of the neutral kayarin crystals in the regeneration chamber.
      Good thing I woke up, otherwise I had missed this sight.
      “When will we be ready for hyperspace again?”
      “About five minutes, Kre.”
      “Good, trigger the jump when you're ready. No change in course.”
      “Ayie, Kre.”
      “Kre, we're receiving a message from the Kamikaze.”
      “On speakers.”
      Larra's message sounds through the Azula's bridge.
      “Now we know what caused the shockwave. We once experimented with 5D-bombs, but found them too devastating, as they could destroy entire systems. That's why these experiments were aborted and the technology was declared illegal.”
      “Wasn't it the quinta-bomb technology that brought up the Tschamyaah-Pulse?”
      “Not quite, the Tschamyaah technology was a by-product, a quinta-bomb with a limited range but more focussed energy. It produces a short living black hole that then inverts into a white hole.”
      Ta-vora thought about the Azula's Tschamyaahs. He had once sweared that he would never use them. He still regreted that he didn't have them removed. But this had taken several days, too long to wait to begin his search.

      -----<======================================================>-----

      A few days passed.

      The Azula falls back into realspace with a bright flash and a thunderclash.
      “Entering the Isled-system.”
      “Full scan, check if there are any ships in here.”
      “I'm reading a Voinian Frigate strange, it seems disabled.”
      “What do you mean, 'it seems disabled'? Is it disabled or not?”
      “Actually, the scanners show that it is fully functional. But it isn't moving, no energy readings.”
      “Life-signs?”
      “None. The ship seems abandoned.”
      “Strange. Anyway, approach the coordinates Larra gave us.”
      “I have the object on screen. It's well hidden inside a lagrange point, totally invisible to less advanced sensors like the ones the Voinians use. Distance three lightminutes.”
      “Excellent. Move us within range and salvage it.”

      Five minutes later, the Azula begins the salvage.
      “We have the last part save, Kre.”
      “Very well. Get us back to the Liat-system.”
      “Course laid in, Kre. Triggering hyperjump.”
      Seconds later the Azula once again vanishes from realspace.

      Ta-vora was just about to get up and leave the bridge, he never stayed there during a hyperspace jump.
      When the double doors open, his wristcom beeps.
      “What is it?”
      Kre, this is Sayan dinLavas. I'm in the cargo hold. These three wrecks we salvaged you may want to see this.
      “I'm on my way.”

      Upon entering the cargo bay, Ta-vora is being greeted by Sayan dinLavas. He recognizes him as one of the science officers aboard.
      “Is something wrong?”
      “I'm not sure, Kre, but I hope we don't get in trouble by these parts. Look at this.”
      He shows Ta-vora a hand-held scanner, displaying some diagrams. Several of them reach the 30% mark, two even approach 50%.
      “These are energy readings from the three salvaged parts.”
      “Most interesting. So the energy sources of these parts were just at stand-by.”
      “No, actually none of these parts should function alone. They are receiving an external energy input.”
      “By what?”
      “As strange as it may sound, but we believe it's the recreation matrixes. Do you remember the experimental ships tested in the Surreal Web that were driven by the psionic energies of these crystals? They proved ineffective, but this one seems to work.”
      “Did this occur before? I mean, it is strange that this started when just when all three parts were aboard.”
      “We discovered this by chance. So if it did happen before, we just failed to notice.
      “Well, Page said the ship is driven by the psionic energy of his sword. And this sword is powerful. We should isolate the rooms as long as the parts are aboard. And tell those technicans over there to stay well clear of them. We should not mess with things we don't fully understand. Who knows what this ship is capable of.”
      “Ayie, Kre.”
      And the Azula continues its journey back to the Liat-system.

      ------------------
      The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.

      (This message has been edited by Ta-vora (edited 04-16-2004).)

    • Page cast a sideways glance out to DZ.
      "Hrmmm, not a bad idea.. What do you say kid?"
      "Why not."
      Page grinned a toothy grin ad removed his baggy and tattered cloak. He once again revealed his almost skin tight jeans and Bad catholics shirt. He beganm to flex his thin arms and making serieses of strange srange gestures. Page stoppede moving breifly and brushed back his long black matted hair (its not spikey like in the picture). Darkness noidded in satisfaction when he saw Pages many earings and peircings, liking particularly the ancient peice of ammunition hanging from his left ear.
      "This time give it all you've got kid."
      Darkness drew his sword swinging it masterfully and in they end they met, both blades touching at the very tips.

      ------------------
      Valence, Always aiming for the stars...
      Then realizing he should have shot the bodyguards first...

    • A message reached the Jenna Jones when it jumped into the Kirrim system, just as fading neon red and blue lines near one edge of the system signified Kamikaze had just left.

      ====================
      Matt, thanks for you help. I probably won't be visiting Voinian space for awhile now. I have other business to attend to, so I'll catch you later. If you need a hand within the next while, just hail my ship.
      -Larra

      Meanwhile, Kamikaze hurtled through hyperspace at a speed much faster then it had traveled at in Voinian space. Larra and Demon would be back at the Albatross very soon.

      OOC: Heh, just feel like writing something.

      ------------------
      If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

    • The Azula once again enters the Liat-system and speed towards Atlantic Station.

      “Azula to port control, requesting clearance for dock, over.”
      “Acknowledged, Azula, you are cleared for section three, hangar seven. Please use approach vector A11. Over.”
      “Copy that, port control. Confirming approach vector A11. Uhm our captain wants to inform you about something.”
      Ta-vora speaks up:
      “I am Ta-vora, captain of the Azula. I just wanted to tell you that if I again see any military personell in the hangar, telling me my ship is quarantined or something alike, I will use force to get rid of them. I'm bored of this harassment and I will not grant them access to my ship. It is restricted, so even if I wanted, I couldn't. It is not my fault if you humans are unable to develop your own technologies. Azula out!”
      “Uhm copy that, Azula. We will relay your message to the chief in command of the station's militia. Port control out.”

      The Azula glides into the hangar. Ta-vora exits the ship and makes his way to the Albatross, ignoring the curious glares he receives from the passants.
      Upon entering, Ta-vora spots Page fighting with some strange black-dressed person. His first reflex is to interfere, but then their signs tell him that it is no serious combat.
      Ta-vora sits down at the tresen and orders a Saalian Brandy from DZ, who looks at him slightly curious.
      “And who are you?” he asks.
      “Ta-vora of the Ka-nuth.”
      “I am called DZ. Guess you're not from around here, are you.”
      “Not really. I come from an alternate universe.”
      “And how did you get here?”
      “Interdimensional wormhole. Who's that guy fighting with Page?”
      “He said his name is Darkness.”
      Ta-vora smiled slightly.
      “This suits him.”
      He then sighs.
      “I have visited several different universes when I traveled through the wormhole, but none of which held so many scurrile characters in one place as this one.”

      ------------------
      The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.

    • wow, maybe I should start getting back into this...

      (This message has been edited by Cresent (edited 04-18-2004).)

    • Only several minutes after Ta-vora entered the bar, Larra arrived. She took one look at Page and Darkness, smirked, and then flung herself into a seat beside the catlike alien drinking saalian brandy. The two swap stories of their search for the mech pieces for awhile before Ta-vora notices Demon isn’t with her.

      “Demon?” Larra says thoughtfully when he asks where the shapeshifter is, “Oh, he’s somewhere on the station. I think he said something about using different flavors of pudding to graffiti the walls.”

      Ta-vora sighed and shook his head, looking meaningfully at DZ in remembrance of his earlier comment on “scurrile characters”.

      Larra doesn’t notice this, as her eyes have never left the fight for the entire time she has been in the bar, and she finally asks DZ why they are fighting.

      DZ grins. “My idea. It’s to give them and the other patrons something to do. I’m sure bets are taking place right now.”

      Larra considered this for a moment, and than announced, “I call the next match!”

      ------------------
      If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

    • OOC: Cresent, you should get back into this, even if you only chillax in the bar. We'll be starting another soon...

      OOC2: DZ's got a British accent, and he calls all women m'lady. Nothing special, just FYI.

      Scrawling on the bar's mirror with a marker, DZ makes a crude tournament bracket. "Page vs. Darkness" is the first, and the rest of the slots are empty.

      DZ grins. "Done. Anything to drink, m'lady?"

      ------------------
      Proud member of
      [The Fifth Column](http://<br />
      thefifthcolumn.blogspot.co<br />
      m).

    • As the blades met at the tips, Darkness pushed violently to the side and made Page go off balance, then, twirling, he sent a kick to his chest and made Page take a few steps back. After that, Page tred kicking Darkness's sword away, but Darkness just fell flat and tripped him to the ground, placing the sword to his chin. Smiling, he backed off a little and got into a defensive stance, blade straight out, feet separted and knees bent. "That all ya got Page?" Though, he knew once Page got up he would win. Might as well put up a fight. He srhugged inwardly and tried to act fearless. This was fun, but pointless. Page was stronger than Darkness. Period. Sigh...

      ------------------

      | Phantasmaegoria |<<
      -=___________________=-

    • Far too easy to trace, ships that have no duplicates are easy, and if they have elements which don't exist in nature, even in trace amounts they stick out like a sore thumb. Strange that she chose the Albatross, I haven't been there in years.

      Mat casually strides into the Albatross, drawing almost every eye straight to him with his interesting fashion sense, most quickly look away with grimaces on their faces. He casually takes a seat with the back to the wall facing the entrance with his eyes meeting Demon's outside the entrance as he sits down casually.

      ------------------
      Life, Death. What's the difference?

      (This message has been edited by Paranoid (edited 04-18-2004).)

    • (Edit not Quote!)

      (This message has been edited by Paranoid (edited 04-18-2004).)

    • Ta-vora looks at the man in the terribly colorful clothing.
      If he had a rippled forehead, I would believe he is an Itiath. Apparently he's just as colorblind as they are.
      He smiles at this thought and and notices the man giving him a side glance with a curious look in his eyes.
      He then wonders if he should join the contest. He just needed to get his crescent sword. A fight with his Mesaj ta Elysee would be unfair against a metal sword.
      On the other side, Page's weaves are far more complex than those created by Darkness. Looks like he will win. And I doupt that I could win against him. On the other side, I haven't used the sword for some time. It could be a good training.

      Ta-vora stands up and leaves the bar.
      Outside his sensitive nose catches a sweet smell. He turns his head to see a weird painting at a nearby wall. Children are running around and eat the color?
      I don't believe it! She was serious about the pudding graffiti! What comes next? Ice-cream sculptures or will he flood the station with lemonde?
      Ta-vora laughed out loud, causing some of the passants turn their head in wonder.

      A few minutes later, Ta-vora reenters the bar, sits down at his table and finishes his drink.

      ------------------
      The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.