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strangetrip2018-02-27 03:38 pm
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[GP/status] OtherWorlds: Welcome to Asphodel Station
By the time the Crystal Room, recently and precipitously vacated by Kash, had closed itself off to begin its transformation, the incipient connection to a new world had already been reflected in the Inn's shops. Notably, after Valentine's Day, the boutique had begun to stock two new clothing trends. First came the heavily weighted apparel, almost like blankets for those on the autism spectrum, designed to hang against the body and stay against the body, most of them in fairly neutral shades and modest styles. Then came the exquisitely light, unusual fabrics, that seemed made for dancing and twirling. They often had extra fabric, tubes and ruffs, and layers that when caught in the wind would puff out into shapes. These tended toward the colorful, and while rarely what any 21st century Earth person would call scandalous, they often seemed to be playing peekaboo with spectators and the flesh beneath.
Other, less interesting, changes happened more suddenly. Every room had fresh water bottles delivered daily. The chef's chicken dishes inexplicably began to contain a great deal of cream, cheese, and cream cheese. The ice machines occasionally acted up and spit a stream of cubes at people passing without filling a bucket.
In retrospect, when the Crystal Room opened onto the deck of what might once have been some kind of space yacht but had become more the equivalent of an overcrowded tour bus for penny-pinchers and scholarship kids, it was more obvious than ever that where they'd be going, what they'd need when they'd get there, and the camouflaging of their arrival wasn't entirely random. The captain and passengers of the dirty, overcrowded space-bus SC Trolley couldn't possibly have cared less where the extra passengers came from, if they even noticed. And the docking crew on the pretentiously named Celadon Ring (third from the top, reserved for miner-leave ships and the odd 'leisure' travelers), was more interested in clan personal matters than in how many people were supposed to be on the ship versus how many left through its doors. After the first few hours of the ship's arrival, no one cared at all, which made it very easy for the people of the Inn to come and go.
Whatever intelligence lay behind their off-world jaunts could do little about their appearances, however, and their strange fleshy colors and hairstyles drew unpleasant looks from many on station. The Verineans in particular were none too thrilled by the appearance of a long-forgotten race, and behave more haughtily than ever. The Trovians poked them curiously and ran away. Most of the others avoided them. Only the Gunnii and the Diggers seemed to take them in stride.
Nevertheless, the noisy Hub with its welter of foreign tongues, the familiar patter of bargains and auctions, backed by the odd and occasionally terrifying structural creaks and groans, smelled of tarnished metal, less than fresh bodies, and commerce. Away from the pristine living quarters in the wealthiest petals, Asphodel was a trade station, and anyone with goods to trade and a will to trade them wouldn't be turned (too hard) away.
The rings and Paidia, the upper and the downbelow were something of a different story. Dangerous in the rings and the downbelow, downright welcoming in the Paidia, and off-limits without bribes on the upper, they had their own rules and their own essences. In truth, the station was large enough with so little in the way of true government, it might as well have been several small nations bound together by a gravitational system and air supply.
Regardless of where they planned to go, any visitor that exited a ship in one of the rings was made to watch a welcome video while waiting for the lifts. It contained the basic rules, offenses punishable by death, and an overview map of the station. Exchange rates in currencies unknown to the Inn were posted at the lifts exit doors. Yet whenever any first left the rings for the Hub or elsewhere on Asphodel they couldn't help but be unprepared.
Other, less interesting, changes happened more suddenly. Every room had fresh water bottles delivered daily. The chef's chicken dishes inexplicably began to contain a great deal of cream, cheese, and cream cheese. The ice machines occasionally acted up and spit a stream of cubes at people passing without filling a bucket.
In retrospect, when the Crystal Room opened onto the deck of what might once have been some kind of space yacht but had become more the equivalent of an overcrowded tour bus for penny-pinchers and scholarship kids, it was more obvious than ever that where they'd be going, what they'd need when they'd get there, and the camouflaging of their arrival wasn't entirely random. The captain and passengers of the dirty, overcrowded space-bus SC Trolley couldn't possibly have cared less where the extra passengers came from, if they even noticed. And the docking crew on the pretentiously named Celadon Ring (third from the top, reserved for miner-leave ships and the odd 'leisure' travelers), was more interested in clan personal matters than in how many people were supposed to be on the ship versus how many left through its doors. After the first few hours of the ship's arrival, no one cared at all, which made it very easy for the people of the Inn to come and go.
Whatever intelligence lay behind their off-world jaunts could do little about their appearances, however, and their strange fleshy colors and hairstyles drew unpleasant looks from many on station. The Verineans in particular were none too thrilled by the appearance of a long-forgotten race, and behave more haughtily than ever. The Trovians poked them curiously and ran away. Most of the others avoided them. Only the Gunnii and the Diggers seemed to take them in stride.
Nevertheless, the noisy Hub with its welter of foreign tongues, the familiar patter of bargains and auctions, backed by the odd and occasionally terrifying structural creaks and groans, smelled of tarnished metal, less than fresh bodies, and commerce. Away from the pristine living quarters in the wealthiest petals, Asphodel was a trade station, and anyone with goods to trade and a will to trade them wouldn't be turned (too hard) away.
The rings and Paidia, the upper and the downbelow were something of a different story. Dangerous in the rings and the downbelow, downright welcoming in the Paidia, and off-limits without bribes on the upper, they had their own rules and their own essences. In truth, the station was large enough with so little in the way of true government, it might as well have been several small nations bound together by a gravitational system and air supply.
Regardless of where they planned to go, any visitor that exited a ship in one of the rings was made to watch a welcome video while waiting for the lifts. It contained the basic rules, offenses punishable by death, and an overview map of the station. Exchange rates in currencies unknown to the Inn were posted at the lifts exit doors. Yet whenever any first left the rings for the Hub or elsewhere on Asphodel they couldn't help but be unprepared.
Re: Tag Sora
Mary was holding up some sort of electronic. The person at the stand was telling her how it worked, but it was still very confusing. She thanked the Frog-like person and started walking away when she caught sight of a group. The group seemed fixated on something and from experience their stances didn't look friendly.
She moved a little closer and noticed Sora. She instantly felt a surge of protectiveness. Arms crossed and a stern motherly 'get off my lawn' expression, Mary approached. "Is there a problem here?"
Re: Tag Sora
That was pretty normal. Sora didn't really intimidate anybody all that much. "I don't wanna fight them though."
Re: Tag Sora
Mary was vaguely aware that Sora had mentioned he used to fight, but she didn't want the kid to have to - kids shouldn't need to fight. Maybe a part of her felt that strongly because she couldn't prevent her sons from fighting at this age but she could project her ability to protect onto Sora. Not that Mary was overtly aware of this.
"What exactly do you want?" She looked at the alien group.
A Frog man, much like the one like she had just talked to, sniffed and lifted his chin. "Give us the boy. He's strong. Good entertainment."
Mary narrowed her eyes. "He's not something to own. Maybe you should move on somewhere else."
But they didn't seem to move on. In fact, they seemed to close ranks.
Re: Tag Sora
Re: Tag Sora
From the back of her pants Mary produced a hunting knife and held it by the hilt, the blade facing down the way someone familiar with knife combat would.
There were two cat-like alien humanoids behind the frog who snarled in response.
Mary glanced to Sora, trying not to freak out too much he had seemingly made a gigantic key appear. Was that a weapon? He held it like one.
In that moment of distraction, the four aliens advanced. Only one seemed to lunge toward Mary, the others still more concerned with Sora.
Re: Tag Sora
Sora danced back a pace as the three advanced. One of them swung a heavy fist at him, which he blocked with the Keyblade, throwing both of them back. The second came in a rush, which he ducked and dodged, but Sora didn't give the third one any time to do anything like that. He threw out one hand and a "Blizzard!" Magical ice and cold slammed into the third, freezing him like a statue. So that was one down!
Re: Tag Sora
Mary had never seen magic like that before, but she didn't have a lot of time to think about it as she had to duck to avoid the one throwing its fist at her. She landed a bunch in his smooshed, frog-like face, but it managed to kick her in the stomach which had her staggering back. Stubbornness set in and Mary advanced again, swinging the knife this time in the guy's direction. She managed to slice up the alien's shirt, but it avoided getting her.
The Melki attacking Sora looked at its frozen friend, but grinned instead. "See. Need your talents."
Re: Tag Sora
Sora swung around, Keyblade still at the ready, to face his last attacker. Gravity as a spell took it out of him; the rest of the fighting would have to be physical. But there was no need to tell anyone that right now. "Wanna see what else there is? Or do you wanna risk us some more?"
Re: Tag Sora
The strength behind Sora's magic was a little unsettling, but he wasn't using it on people who were good so Mary tried not to think too much on it. The most important thing at the moment was to make sure he was safe.
Mary took a punch to the face which caused her to take a step back, but she retaliated with a kick to the face and while she might have a black eye in the morning, the alien was now bleeding from his face.
She took a step closer to Sora, closing any hole that might be there between them. That was when she saw them. A few others who seemed to be coming up from behind them.
"Sora." Her voice was steady, but warning. "We should take care of these two and find some place else to be." Before the others got close enough to engage.