Ambrosia Garden Archive
    • Kenady staggered up to the bar, keeping up her appearance of both being highly intoxicated and a barmaid.

      "A... a t'mato juice?"

      The antiquities dealer merely nodded, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the stench of alcohol on Kenady. He didn't realize that she'd dumped more on herself than she'd consumed.

      Kenady poured the non-alcoholic drink for the, she assumed, man. Setting the glass rather roughly in front of him, she headed back to the table, jug of tomato juice still in hand.

      "I found some more! I think it's been sitting out, it's got a bit of a bite!"

    • Shade sniffed in distaste at the quality of the service. But then, what could one expect, really? The only good service in Renegade space were in bars controlled by the Azdgari mafia, and they had had a falling-out with Shade not so long ago.

      The tomato juice tasted just as foul as it had last time Shade had been here, several years back, and the intoxicated barmaid had neglected to add the proper seasonings. But one didn't hold out much hope, really.

      Presumably bored, Morrigan 's kitten-avatar hopped down from Shade's shoulder and strolled over to Ta-vora (although the AI didn't know his name, of course). Ping! Morrigan might not be your normal sort of AI, being far more independent than most, but an entity almost fifty thousand years old was allowed to be a little odd.

      OOC: Shade is a herm; I've been reading too much Lois McMaster Bujold. The correct pronoun is "it".

    • Demon grinned wickedly as he remembered one very important fact. Ta-vora wasn’t a hologram any more. His grin widened when Shade entered. This was someone who cared quite a bit about his appearance. Even better.

      After spending time enough time with the shapeshifter, you might begin to think that his sense of timing was completely infallible. It wasn’t. He was about to set off enough chaos for Kenady to do almost anything she wanted unnoticed.

      Unseen, he crawled down the wall and took refuge under and empty table, transforming back into a large black dog. Grinning wickedly, Demon retrieved his bowl of chocolate pudding and giant soup ladle from where he had left them, scooped out a big spoonful, and took aim.

      SPLAT!

      The gooey brown blob hit Ta-vora smack in the face, sticking to his fur and whiskers and becoming very difficult to rub off.

      SPLAT!

      A second vat of pudding hit the strange kitten with enough force to nearly knock it right over. Demon turned to his last target, aiming his primitive catapult with careful precision.

      Three clumps of chocolate pudding struck the back of Shade’s jacket, and a fourth landed right in his glass of tomato juice, splattering what was left all over his white shirt.

      Filling his ladle with more pudding, Demon took aim again.

    • OOC: Welcome shade, Antique dealer eh... lets see what we can do with this.

      " PING!! "
      Page, who's thin frame had been draped on his chair like a filthy rag, snapped to attention. His quick motion made Ta-vora jump, even his tuned sences couldnt notice the twitch that came before the sudden movement.
      Page let out a blood curdling scream and whipped his arm over his head in a throwing motion. The red brick he heaved shattered on the bar's far wall.
      The whole bar jumped and fixed their eyes on Page.
      the Vellosian breathed heavily for a few momnts and then looked around.
      "Uhhh sorry, force of habit," he said softly. Page stood up and stretched his back. the antique salesman made a note of Page's appearance. It wasnt every day that you saw someone stand 5' 2" with a waist that made even the skinnyest models look meaty, wearing black skintight jeans, short beatup cowbot boots and skin white as paper. Not to mention the several nasty looking metal rings sticking out of his face.
      "Where'd you get the brick?" Ta-vora asked slightly amused.
      "Brick? Ohhh... well whenever I pass out drunk I usualy end up in a med bay, and somehow whenever I wake up the entire staff ends up bleeding on the floor, with red bricks imbedded in their faces. That might have something to do with it."
      Ta-vora's ear twitched. "Oh.."
      "I just feel like I got mauled by a drop bear," Page whined lighting a cigarette.
      "Drop bear?" Ta-vora asked again.
      "Oh... Something we have back home."
      The small kitten lurked around the table, It began pawing at the burlap roll next to page's chair. Page knelt down and eyed the kitten suspiciously. It hit the burlap so the sword's handle came into plain view.
      Shade raised it's eyebrows, maybe there is something valuable on this rock. Shade choked down the rest of the tomato juice and chose to investigate.

      OOC: play along if you like

    • OOC: I know Shade's an it. Kenady doesn't, though, and she's not really used to gender-neutral races. She's assuming Shade's a pretty-looking man. I'd write, but I am le tired.

    • OOC: I should have seen that one coming, Synesthesia. TrikkiSixx, I may do something with it, but not exactly like that - Morrigan , for one, is not quite in character. The avatar may look like a kitten but the mind running it is older than the modern human race. TheGreenFile; righto.
      Now for some IC stuff!
      IC:

      With an indignant ping! Morrigan 's avatar fell rump over forepaws, coming to rest as a pudding-covered furball in a pudding-coloured puddle on the floor. Blink. One bright (glowing, to be precise) green eye opened, then another. Blink. The kitten shook itself vigorously, splatters of pudding flying over the nearby area (and onto Ta-vora's trouser-leg).

      Those green eyes tracked velocity and trajectory back to their source, and noted the large black dogs. This avatar was ill-suited to dealing with dogs ... but dogs, in Morrigan 's experience, did not throw pudding at people.

      Ping! "That," the avatar said, glowering, "Was most rude."

      Shade heard Morrigan 's alarmed ping and twisted in it's seat, hand going incongruously to it's right ear. The three rapidly flung projectiles impacted on the back of it's coat ( Ai, Lady! Shade thought, I've been hit! We're under attack! ) and Shade turned the other way - just in time to be hit by splatters of low-quality tomato juice.

      Like Morrigan , Shade turned to regard the source of this unprovoked assault upon it's fashion sense, spluttering in an alien tongue; "Ke!-a!-ahn!-ki!-akhetero kaha!"

      It's hand returned to it's ear, retrieving what appeared to be a small black needle tucked behind it's ear. Grow , Shade thought, and true to the rudimentary telepathic circuitry installed in it, the needle grew, expanding into a staff of black iron as tall as Shade itself.

      Shade tapped the foot of the Magic Wishing Staff* against the toe of it's boot, and said, in a more understandable language; "To whom does this table belong, and for what reason has it launched this malicious attack upon my person?"

      Shade's speech was quite fluent, and it spoke with the precision of someone who had come late to the language - never mind the fact that it's manner of speaking it might be over two hundred years out of date.

      OOC: *Magic Wishing Staff; Basically, it's a handy resizeable stick for whacking things. I stole it, and the name, from a Chinese folktale.

    • OOC: Uhm, Syn, Ta-vora neither has fur nor whiskers.
      BTW, Shade, if you want to see what Ta-vora looks like, here is an image of him. On the back of his cloak he has this emblem.

      I take that as a “no” then. But you're not the only one who can play tricks. I remember you enjoy this.
      Using the lightning matrix, he sent a small shock towards Demon. It was not strong enough to be visible or cause any harm, but it shook the shapeshifter good.
      He wiped the pudding from his face and tasted some of it.
      “Hm at least it's not the worst stuff that has ever been thrown at me.”
      He then stepped over to Page and looked down at Larra, who was still unconscious.
      “I don't know, that's not the place where I want to be drunk. You may want one of those.”
      He offered Page the ampule.
      “What's that?”
      “Helps against hangovers. Makes the effects wear off and burns the alcohol in your system.”

    • Page scratched his boney chin and breathed out the smoke from his stale cigarettes.
      "Well, if I remember correctly My blood is almost completely alcohol... Will that have an effect on anything?"
      Page turned to look at the very feminine figure for the man at the bar. Demon had worked his magic, and from the looks of it he was about to be beaten with a large iron staff. Page whisped his weaves over the newcomer and crossed his arms.
      Well the gender issue had been solved, but that ws about it. Aside from an overall feeling of disgust Page hadn't senced anything at all.
      Strange. Page inhaled the last bit of his cigarette and flicked it across the bar. he rifled through his bag for a moment and removed a pair of sunglasses and a pack of cigarettes that looked older than the first one.
      He stood up and strode over to the big comfy looking red booth in the corner. He lay down on one of the seats and patted the trunk of the potted palm tree behind the booth.
      "So Ta-vora, your crew find anything out yet?"

      OOC: For Shade, Page is a telepath, A vell-os from the Nova universe, if you decide to stick around you'll find out alot more about him, In short, he drinks too much, smokes too much, and curses a bit more than acceptable. And if you chose to proceed there's far more to his sword than meets the eye.

    • OOC: Arion: Weird ears. Neat symbol, though. TrikkiSixx: Yes, I gathered that from what I read. Despite the fact that the Magic Wishing Staff has telepathic circuitry in order to resize itself as needed, Shade is entirely mundane when it comes to telepathy. I'd post IC stuff, but I think I'm waiting on Synesthesia.

    • OOC: Gah, sorry, I was thinking cat and was a little out of it yesterday...:(
      Shade: This will be chaotic 🙂 , but it’s only one dog. And didn’t you write briefly in the Nova bars? I think I remember you....sorry for making you wait. Not much time today, let’s see how far I get.

      With his fur staticy and sticking straight out as a result of Ta-vora’s electric shock, Demon looked almost like a giant black marshmellow. Snickering to himself, the shapeshifter sized up Shade and his stick. Larra was still happily sound asleep, so he wouldn’t be able to get help from her...but....oh well. He liked to live on the edge.

      Merrily ignoring Shade’s question, Demon dunked his spoon in the bowl and let another glob of pudding fly. Laughing as it hit it’s mark, the shapeshifter reached out for another spoonful of the brown gunk, only to discover his bowl was empty.

      “Aww crap,” Demon muttered, but as he was mere seconds away from being whacked with the Magic Wishing Staff, he had time for little else. Putting the bowl on his head as a makeshift helmet, the shapeshifter dropped the ladle and ran for the questionable safety of another table.

    • Shade felt the wet squelch of pudding impacting upon it's shirt once again and glared in anger at the rapidly retreating doglike creature.

      " Most rude," it hisses through clenched teeth, echoing Morrigan.

      Calm. Calm. This serves nothing.

      The Magic Wishing Staff, unlike it's namesake belonging to Meihou Weng, did not weigh thirteen thousand pounds (for that matter, nor could it expand to fill the Universe), but it still had a decent amount of heft to it, and Shade jabbed it angrily at Demon, hiding under the table.

      At this point the shapeshifter might attempt to retreat further, but from behind it, very close under the table, came a ping! as Morrigan approached. The AI appreciated assault upon it's avatars about as much as Shade appreciated assault upon it's clothing.

      OOC: I believe I might have, but the bars go so fast in Nova ... waaay back I used to post on the Boozerama boards, but as I've seen the new crop of posters there can hardly be called roleplayers.

    • OOC: I want to join in, but Matt's still involved with Yume and Jacey and they've taken an extended leave of absence. I don't have time to create a new character and I wanted to bring Kaski in with Matt. Curses! Good writing all anyway. I'm enjoying the lighter mood after the massive amount of melodrama a while back (not that melodrama is bad, it's all I write). I look forward to much more.

    • Kenady watched the chaos unfolding around her. This bunch destroyed a station? "With what, pudding?" She mumbled to herself. Then again, they could be hiding something much bigger behind this facade of mischief...

      She settled into her seat, slouching. Her eyes nearly closed, she slowly eased her pistol out of its holster. From the hip, she fired a shot on extremely low power. It winged Demon, evoking a yelp. Page's eyes immediately opened at the sound of blaster fire.

      More than meets the eye.

    • “Well, we received some kind of ” Ta-vora began to answer to Page's question when he heard the blaster.
      His eyes unfolded completely. He scanned the bar but couldn't discover the source. His gaze fell onto Demon, but the shapeshifter seemed alright. Now he realized how much he missed his psionic abilities.
      I understand. This was no attack, it was a test. But who's testing who?

    • Larra woke up very slowly, shoved into full consciousness by the rhythmetic pounding in her head. She sat up, hair falling into her face, and suddenly remembered where she was. Page, sitting across from her, raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I bet you feel just great.”

      “Lovely,” Larra grumbled sarcastically, dropping her forehead on the table. She jumped about a mile as Ta-vora’s hand touched her shoulder.

      “This might help,” he offered, holding something towards her.

      Larra blinked. “I’m good,” she promised him, moving a hand up to finger comb her hair back into place. A squeal of “Aaggh!” suddenly caused nearly the entire bar to glance in their direction. “What’s in my hair?!”

      “Probably pudding,” Page commented lazily, lighting a cigarette.

      “Yuck,” Larra complained, frowning. “Well, I’m off to take a shower. See you guys later.” Standing unsteadily, she made her way out of the bar.

      ======================================

      With ‘attackers’ both behind him and in front of him, Demon could only see one way out. Whirling around, he leapt onto a chair to his right, shrinking slightly so he could fit between the seat and the table, then returned to normal size and bounced over the back of the chair and away. His timing was so good that Shade, planning to whack the dog, had instead smacked the avatar in the face with its stick.

      But no longer was the shapeshifter going to limit himself just running around.. Not after being shot in the hind end. Demon had absolutely no idea who had done it, but he had to punish someone.

      Racing across the room, he stopped suddenly and stamped around in the pile of chocolate pudding that had once contained a very irritated ‘kitten’. Shapeshifting into a cat, Demon’s next move was to leap up on Kenady’s lap, claw his way up onto her shoulder, and jump back to the ground, leaving a trail of little brown paw prints in his wake.

      Now searching for cover, Demon ran over to the safest table in the bar, settled himself on Page’s head, and began licking the pudding off his paws, grinning at Shade the whole time.

    • Ping-bzzzt! The Magic Wishing Staff struck Morrigan 's avatar in the face, knocking it backwards again.

      "Voi dtaneh?" the avatar rowled, righting itself and glowering at Shade. One green eye was mazed with fracture marks and flashing intermittently. What the hell?

      "Voi kteno!" Shade replied hurriedly. Wasn't me! "Akashenat, akashenat - voi kteinat!" Accident, accident - was that !. Pointing at the grinning Demon, now residing atop Page's head. The avatar switched it's glare to Demon. The shapeshifter was lucky Morrigan 's military avatars had remained aboard the ship.

      Shade picked up the avatar and walked over to Page.

      "Excuse me, sir," it said, "But you happen to have a small, malignant creature upon your head. Does it by any chance belong to you?"

    • The Legend of the Voronov
      Part X

      Great Barrier Desert, Voina Overworld

      The library was easier to find than they’d dared hope. Shek and Lelos Somm imagined it was because Zathe had chosen to look where there were no people. After all, why look for a library in a technological paradise like the Voinian capital?

      So they’d trudged through the Great Barrier for two days, walking, for all appearances, aimlessly. Yet they all felt a strange tug, a curious pull on them even as they walked into the Voinian nothingness. They’d long since left the cracked, dry ground outside the polluted cityscape, the dried-up riverbeds of the great streams that had once been such fertile water for Voinian mythology. They’d even crossed the Borb Mountains that marked the border of the Barrier. And then they’d walked across endless rock and soil and sand.

      And so they had arrived at the library.

      The only problem was, the library wasn’t a library. There were endless bookshelves, but no books. Towering scroll racks, but no scrolls. There was nothing.

      “Zathe, the Prophets lied to us again.”

      “No Shek,” laughed Somm before Zathe could respond, “they just read the trash wrong.”

      Zathe ignored them. He was too occupied looking at the northern wall of the structure.

      It was completely bare. So it appeared to his eyes, and so it appeared to his touch. And the Sorucytes confirmed it; the surface was frictionless. He moved his hand across the wall, searching for any roughness, any marking at all.

      There was nothing.

      “What is it, Zathe?”

      Again he did not respond. He walked across the hall to the southern wall, and repeated his test. Again nothing. And nothing again on the eastern wall. And on the western wall...

      “What is it?”

      There was a mark. Ever so slight, but it was noticeable. The one mark of roughness on the otherwise completely smooth surface. Zathe fell into a Dur’achi thought trance, communing with the Sorucytes.

      Show me its essence, he asked them.

      An image appeared in his mind: a glyph, at first unknown and then abundantly clear as to its origin.

      “What is it, Zathe?”

      He sent a surge of Sorucytes pulsing through his hand into the glyph. The “wall” dissolved, as if being decomposed on the molecular level by the millions of Sorucytes Zathe had sent at it. Soon the useful devices returned to his body through his outstretched hand. Before him lay an enormous hall.

      On the floor, in a darkened corner in the hall, lay a single, green book.

    • OOC: Hi, guys. Sorry that I haven't been here but I can't post until Jackey does. I'm going to try to get in contact with him to see what we can do about this and so Matt can go about his business so that he won't be too involved with Yume and Jackey anymore. Please be patient and I'll try to resolve this problem paranoid as soon as possible 😉

    • Jackey? 😞

      My, my, it has been a while, hasn't it, Seraphim?

      For the sake of random chat I thought it would be worth telling you that Jacey will be back very soon.

      Until then, keep up your grades, ace your finals, play more video games, go jog outside, learn to swing dance, or do whatever else seems most appropriate for your life until he gets back.

      Affectionately,
      Mark

    • Whatever happened to Yume anyway?