Unclassifiable Gravels. The Pub At The End... A Holiday Tale

IC: Mitch Nifesta, Baille Harte, Unknown location’s reception area


Mitch listened with pride as the droid complemented how he was raising the young Corellian, and he enjoyed see the youngster having fun, and looking so excited at being called ‘lieutenant’.

Apart from giving her the chance to air any traumatic feelings from the last days of her Imperial career, he had not talked to her about that time.

The android gestured to a doorway to the other side of her counter. There was the scent of flavours coming from beyond it. “The other guests that have arrived so far, are already enjoying a few snacks and treats with the waiting area. We are waiting to see if the last will respond. Once that happens, we will take you to the main hosting area, and you will be given a tour of Gravels.” The robed figure turned to the Twi’lek specifically. “Our host is aware of your unique accommodations as well. And it was noted that there is an item, that will also allow you to enjoy in the ‘festivities’ as well, if you so wish.””

With that, the un-named employee walked over, and with a wave of her arm, pulled open the doors that she had led the first group through.

Out the corner of his visor, he caught his daughter jerk ever so slightly back, and raise her eyebrows at the sumptuous sight, accented in all shades of red, scarlet, and crimson; tables and chairs, glistening festive decorations, and bunches of citrus-coloured fruits and vegetables suspended from the rafters overhead.
And what bunches!

“Wow.” Harte breathed, stepped forward as if drawn to the sight, then hesitated and looked back to him as if for permission.

Secretly pleased at the deference, Nifesta nodded his ascent, then stepped forward himself and grasped up her smaller hand, interlocking fingers, so that they would be linked when going through the doorway.

The Receptionist released the handles of both doors to allow them to continue swinging open, and stepped assuredly over the line into the other room.
“Honored guests. I introduce to you, Mitch Nifesta, and his daughter, Baille Harte. I leave you to introduce yourselves to them. Hopefully, it shall not be long, before the last arrive, and we can head to the main party area, and the tour.”

Mitch and Baille had stepped in after her, and with a nod of her flouncy hairdo, she stepped behind them and pulled the door closed.

He scanned the diverse collection of individuals that were already there, and like previous occasions like this, quickly determined that these were Powers from their own particular realm. Although there were some humanoids, he did not recognise any...he stepped to one side, affording himself a better angle past the round food-piled table at the centre of the room, and confirmed the Darth Vader armour, proportioned to fit a short, overweight ursine (bear).

He stepped back beside Baille, who breathlessly reported that she did not recognise anyone or anything, although she went on to admit that her most diverse experience of alien races had been whilst she was on the run.

Nifesta glanced at her. Probably made sense just how quickly she had been captured by the Empire. Little human girl, only used to other humans, must have stuck out like a sore thumb.
He still had her old V-Wing starfighter, in the bowels of their home cruiser, the Darth Unlucky. Still emblazoned with Imperial decals – it had not occurred to her to change ships, or paint her ship or anything. Of course she got caught.

She turned to look up at him. “Did that woman say that this was only the waiting area?”

“Indeed she did.” Mitch’s gaze roved the sides of the hall, right to left, then swept the CIA-bag so that it rested on the rear of his hip, and stepped closer to her, lowering his voice. “There are several exits visible round the walls. You can look at them, you can scan them with your vortex manipulator; in fact, I encourage you to do so.” He referred to the device attached to her wrist with a thick strap of light brown leather. It was a twin of his own device. “However, you are not allowed to go through any on your own. If anyone invites you to check one out with them, tell them you need your Daddy’s permission and come find me. Am I clear?”

Baille nodded readily, which he thought was unusually cooperative, especially for her. “Yep.”

Mitch glanced sideways at her, then. “Good girl. Okay, the supine bear in the black armour, and the short femme with the wings, look the most suitable for you to play with, but you can talk to anyone you want, and eat whatever takes your fancy.”

“What about alcohol?”

“I have never seen anyone fall under the influence at one of these things, so have what you want, Sweetheart.” He nudged her in the side with the blocky metallic satchel. “I bought enough stuff to set up a med station in case you get bith-faced.” He let go of her hand. “I’ll be over here. You go have fun, Kitten.”
Mitch stalked off to the left of the group of other guests, choosing a semi-circular booth to establish a base at. His head collided with one of the golden fruit bunches, sending it swinging as he passed.

Baille looked after the old Twi’lek, realising with a start that he had not attempted to put the ribbon in her hair. Perhaps he had forgotten?
Well, I’m certainly not going to tell you. She thought with bloom of happiness, and stepped towards the pile of rich-looking culinary fare nearest to the guests. A very muscular humanoid in a blue and yellow unitard, towered over them, enthusiastically munching on stuff.
“Hi All.” She greeted politely. “How is everyone? I’m Baille.”

Tag: All



Baille's teadress

 

L

TAG: Darth_Luna, greyjedi125, Ahlisha,@Stoor Ktala,@ anyone nearby too. ;

*
::The android type being announced three more beings, T'Shael glanced around. A very strange looking biped with two tentecales coming from his head, that accompanied by a human. Others were greeting them.. A voice coming from the rafters caught the Vulcan's attention .
She peered upwards curiously to see the most amazing being. It was winged.

She.

She was very small, small enough to fit in T'Shael's palm.

"Hello!"

The young woman seems to glide down from the rafters to the center of the room, and proceeds to grab a bit of the
tasty treats from the table. She looks rather elfin as well, though those who knows of such things, would recognize
a Fairy or Fae immediately. The wings behind her, might give a clue. As she driffted down, she also grew in size,
from about 6 inches tall to about 4 and a half feet tall. Eyes on the sweets, she dives right in. After taking a
few bites, she then looks up.

The Vulcan's eyes widened as she saw the winged female grow

"Oh..I'm sorry. I'm being rude. My name is Valirie." She flaps a set of small wings. "Pleasure to meet you all."

She took another bitefull of the sweet treats. "Isn't this food just divine?! I hope you dont mind. I just HAD to get
a taste." She fluttered her wings, as she continued to take more quick bites, looking at each of the guests, her
eyes most curious at the bear, and the two with the pointy ears, same as herself.

T'Sheal shock off her stunned feeling before responding.

Hello Valirie, I am T'Sheal and yes the this food is good

Another voice called.

“Hi All.” She greeted politely. “How is everyone? I’m Baille.”

The tall Vulcan female turned around and greeted Baille.

Hello Hallie, I'm T'Shael and I'm well. How are you? If I'm not being rude, were are you from?

She addressed the winged Valiie, Ballie and others standing close by. Her English was getting a good workout.

Tag: All

 

IC: Agent Mitch Nifesta, Baille Harte, Gravels waiting area


Mitch did not stop to steady the fruit bunch that his bonce (head) had sent swinging, and continued towards the side booth that he had selected before, gingerly sidestepping the honey that had not made it into the supine bear's mouth.

"Excuse me." He said, then arriving at the table, leaned over it to put the CIA-bag down on the semi-circle of cushioned seating that skirted the furniture.
He turned back to face the cluttered room, putting his fists on his hips as he regarded Baille across to the other end of the artificial glow-fly colony, and the group that she had joined.

For her part, Baille nestled up close to the long polished wood table bearing a pile of white porcelain plates and several platters of morsels, some familiar, some not.

Whilst waiting for one of the group to acknowledge her, she played safe, turning her left wrist so that the vortex manipulator's sensor could read all the foods that were nearby, and confirm that none were toxic to her body makeup. The thing bleeped softly, and she brought it up to check the results. All looked fine.

"Hello-" Sounded from her left, and she looked that way while the speaker continued. "-Hallie."

Hallie? Baille echoed silently, puzzled. Frak it, close enough. Besides, the speaker, a
tall, regal looking femme in a longsleeved blue-and-gold housecoat over a mostly pink dress that skirted the floor, was looking down towards her. She looked almost as tall as Mitch!

"I'm T'Shael and I'm well. How are you? If I'm not being rude, were are you from?"

"T'Shael." Baille tried, aiming to replicate the other's pronounciation, and getting fairly close. "I'm-I'm fine thanks. I am from a world called Corellia. How about you, what was your homeworld?"

She could not take her eyes off what the other was wearing. Made her positively feel over-dressed!

"Lovely outfit by the way," She commended.

Tag: Ahlisha, A Blind Prophet, others

 

OOC; Gah. I typoed, I'm sorry. Or its auto correct "fixing " the word as I sent. Which the blasted thing has done time blech. .

I'll wait for more to post before responding or we'd end up losing them.

 

OOC: you can go ahead and post without waiting on me, i can catchup as needed. had other things get in my way lately.

 

Flemeth IC:
~A Room Alone~

A loud chiming sound within the tree appeared not long after her blood offering and the Witch of the Wilds prepared herself for whatever was to come. A rising hum and burning eldritch magic around her. It was quite thrilling!

And it had been such a long time since magic, or anything really, thrilled her. And then a touch of something otherworldly. Surreal. Different yet strangely familiar due to a faint awareness in the back of her mind. Yet that is where any potential knowledge stopped.

How interesting.

That was when it wrapped itself around her, to which she was unconcerned only intrigued, and then watched as the proverbial ring of fire consumed her vision.

How pretty, reminds me of old times. Quite the dramatic flair here, I do believe I won’t be disappointed with this.

And then there she was all of a sudden. A different place, much different than Thedas she sensed. Yet it outwardly appeared she was in an abandoned stone throne room of some kind, a violet glow permeating throughout the purple and onyx colored chamber.

Her eyes narrowed on the man in front of her as she appeared. Correction, nearly abandoned then. There were two individuals within its space now after all! She nearly chortled aloud at her own internal musings.

"Greetings Flemeth, or do you perhaps prefer Witch of the Wilds? It was suggested that perhaps you would prefer a more sedate area, before joining the others that are gathering within the inner chambers."

Turning her head to take in the doorway with the lights glowing from beyond it and the aroma of food and ‘scent’ of magic in the air, wafting through the cracks and being joined with the soft sound of music as well; she found herself wondering what could possibly it all mean. Not something she was usually doing.

She waved off the man’s initial question, “Call me what you will, what are names truly? For one such as I they are as many as a tree has leaves it appears. Take any one of them or none at all, it matters not. In the end, I am but I. What I am more curious about is whom was doing the suggesting.”

"There are plenty of mundane foodstuffs and drink available, if you wish to partake. And a few not so mundane items as well, if you prefer other." The man paused for a moment, and then continued. "The settings are almost complete."

Flemeth’s eyes danced merrily at the strangeness of it all. “Why then, forget the questions till later! If there is food, I’ll need to partake. How long do you plan on keeping an old woman waiting?”

Despite the statement, she threw her head back and chortled aloud once more. A trademark quirk of hers, with most not quite understanding what amused her so. Nor did she expect many to do so.

With one quick, cursory glance at the room around her and a trailed hand over one of the statues, she soon followed after her apparent escort.

If I had known I was going to have a date, I would have prepared further!

Flemeth chuckled mentally again while she moved toward the lights beyond the door.

Tag: Ktala

 

OOC: Have a post mostly written, where my pair acknowledge that no-one is going to respond; just have to gather the food up in a tablecloth, Dick Whittington-style, and will be good to upload.

 

OOC Alrighty...

I'll wait for that to post. Then I'll get some updates out...



heheh... Oh I dunno. Someone MIGHT respond, seeing ya characters stuffing food away like a squirrel...

 

IC: Baille Harte, Mitch Nifesta, Gravels party room


Took a while, but it eventually began to dawn on the young Corellian that her taller, regal-looking talking companion, was not going to respond, even though she seemed to do so.
She was getting a crick in her neck, looking up at her.

She shot a questioning glance towards Nifesta, behind and to T’Shael’s right.

“Sorry, Kitten.” Mitch looked troubled as he regarded her and the woman who at least had responded to her greeting. “This happens all too often at these shindigs. People freeze and stop communicating, because their player, the equivalent of our I-5 has lost interest, or spotted something ‘shiny shiny’, who knows.” He shrugged. “If there is insufficient activity, the Host will probably dissolve this place, so you might as well eat up and explore a bit.”

Harte turned left and right, gazing over the myriad treats, the arced expanse of her dress shishing over the legs of the nearest furniture as it caught the air. “If this is all going to waste, can we take some of it with us? For the rest of the team?” She referred to the other members of their ****-**** Physics and Wierd Situation Intervention Division.

Nifesta shrugged at the idea. “You can try; I tend to assume that this stuff will be like faerie food. Looks and tastes lovely, but next morning, when the sunlight hits it, it’ll cease to exist.”

“That’ll be good for my hips.” She muttered, picking at another pastried roll on her plate.

“That’s why I brought bottles of water, in case all the champagne and whatnot here, did not actually hydrate you.” He looked aside, towards the unoccupied side of the room, where several stools were lined up at a bar. “Whatnot? That’s not in my vocabulary.”

Baille nodded, still picking delicately at the hor d’oeuvres on the small plate held in her left hand, and munching on them, and considered the table where she had been standing, and was still very close to. “Well, this stuff looks alright.”

Mitch glanced back towards her, to see what she was referring to. “No.” he forbade, drawing a look from her. “Just in case these other guests come awake again, I think they would find it quite rude if you had half-inched, pinched, the same food that they had already started on. Find somewhere that they, or this bear,” He glanced behind him and beyond the central table, down at the supine and sticky-faced Darth Vader analogue. “-have not started on.”

Taking his advice, Baille finished off her snacks, running her tongue round her teeth to make sure there was nothing that would be on show, then put her plate down on the nearest table, clacking across the room in her chunky-heeled blue sandals, to one that had been spared attention, though to be fair, that was most of them.

The group of silent beings, had, apart from the bear, congregated at the same spot, although the caterers had spread the fare around.

The redhead narrowed her eyes as she stopped at the table topped with a white tablecloth, and stacked with white porcelain plates and bowls, snacks, dips, a couple of moist-looking cakes on unipodal trays, cutlery familiar and not.

Well, they didn’t need the cutlery aboard the BSPAWSID cruiser, so she picked up handfuls of that and clattered them together into a pile onto the nearest stool, then placed both hands on either side of a pile of plates, and lifted...or not.

“Droyk!” She swore in Corellian, then shot an apologetic look at Mitch, who she could see rifling in their bag back at their booth. He wasn’t looking in her direction, but he always knew when she said something rude, even when they were on separate decks aboard the ‘Unlucky. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Sweetheart; I have no idea what you said.”

“’Kay.” Turning back to the plates, she selected the top four and moved them carefully over to the next spare stool.

Tag: Ktala , anyone present.

 

Ooc:Sorry. Work had be buried. :-(

IC:


"T'Shael." Baille tried, aiming to replicate the other's pronounciation, and getting fairly close. "I'm-I'm fine thanks. I am from a world called Corellia. How about you, what was your homeworld?"

Corellia. The name sounded familiar not because it was Federation member. Something else. It could have been from a book she'd read.More digging. Nope. Not a Terran book, a movie. A character in the was from there. Or..That couldn't be possible. That was fiction. Was such a place real? It had to be, a living native was standing in front of her. Strange things were afoot today anyway. A small, talking, sweets loving sehlat,which she thought was cute. A petite winged, flying shape changing human.

Make that two so far. The skinny man turned into a much bigger version. She still couldn't wrap her head around this. They didn't have the same feel as Dominion shape shifters.

Baillie asked of HER world.

In my native tongue, my world is Ti'Vahlk'ain but most United Federation of Planets members may know it as Vulcan.

(OOC:if you want to add more here go for it. :+).)

Would the humanoid recognize the v'tosh native word or the moniker the Terrans bestowed which confused the Vulcan as to why.

Baillie could not take her eyes off what the other was wearing. Made her positively feel over-dressed!

"Lovely outfit by the way," She commended.

T'Shael nodded her head at Baillie.

Thank you, your outfit is lovely as well.

Something odd caught the Vulcan's sharp eye sight. Almost an after image or glittery dust motes moving. It looked the shape of a person.

'Thats odd. Another guest?"

Baillie seemed to be talking with the person that arrived with her. Snatches of conversation on "inched and pinched"food came to ear.. More beings arrived of species unrecognizable, unless T'Sheal counted mythological and fictional beings from literature and entertainment vids from Earth's past.

Asking Baillie. "You mentioned you're of Corellia. Is your friend also? "

Referring to Mitch.

OOC:What does Mitch look like?)



.

 

OOC: Mitch is a white Twi'lek like Bib Fortuna, but larger and more imposing, wearing dark blue Imperial Court robes, and an opaque sun visor hiding his eyes.

 

Stoor
Grand Party - Fireplace and hall

"Allow me." The dark hobbit spoke, alluding to what Stoor desired as his eyes were wide and amazed as the dark looking hobbit sat upon a large barrel. Stoor was even more amazement as by his actions as he followed the of the dark hobbit manipulating a mechanism which liquid flowed from. Taking a drink from his own mug. Stoor looked up at the dark hobbit as he lifted the mud taking a long cool drink from it. Licking his own lips as he desired more for himself.

"Keep my promises, I do, see? Food and drink. And no pesky tall ones to bother you." The dark hobbit smiled. "I'll leave ya alones now. So you can enjoy your feast. But you'll see me later on. And we'll talk about other deals, yes?" Stoor had lost focus, distracted by the tap, a single lingering drip clinging to the closed valve. Staring at the tap, Stoor’s hands grasped his own mug and thumbed it in anticipation. Suddenly his attention coming back to the dark hobbit.

“Deals! Yes! Later Yes. Yes.” Stoor hurriedly spoke as he continued to be focused on the anticipation of more tasty drinks, as he began to reach for the tap… The dark hobbit made mention of music and further festivities by others in one of the adjacent rooms.

Stoor placed his metal mug up to the tap twisting it and staring in amazement as the liquid flowed into it. Stoor looked up to give his thanks to the dark hobbit and praise him, but he was gone. Stoor felt something wet, as he looked down and the liquid was flowing down over his hands. He lifted the mug to his mouth and began to drink from it clasping with both hands. Gulping a bit of it down, but then noticing that the tap was still flowing, he placed the mug down under the tap again, but it quickly overflowed. Stoor brought the mug up to his mouth again, and noticed that the liquid was still flowing. Realizing that he could not drink fast enough, he shrieked as he placed his mouth underneath the tap not realizing he could turn it off. The process repeated itself as he tried to drink from the mug and tap filling and flowing in a frantic attempt to keep the liquid from spilling. Stoor accidentally bumped the tap and it twisted in the barrel, closing it off. Stoor noticed the sudden changed, and thumbed the tap twisted it on then off again, noticing the liquid start then stop again as the moment of understanding of how to turn a tap on and off hit.


Stoor could hear the music in the other room, as he curiously peered around the corner citing the “others”. As he took a long sip from the mug.

@Ktala