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Author Topic: [IC] Trespassers of the Multiverse: Gaiden Gaiden: Ballroom (Travel Phase)  (Read 5818 times)

Chevaleresse

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The main event center of the castle, it consists of a massive room with a dance floor and fine engraved decor about the walls, connected by side doors to the main kitchen of the place, in order to make serving food to the esteemed guests faster and more efficient. A few remnants of the party's activities mark parts of the floor; odd alchemical spillage, the occasional scorch mark, and an odd contraption consisting of a large glass bowl and a *very* smelly spider creature just sort of scraping around happily.

OOC Thread

Thread Rules:
Your character may only occupy one IC thread at a time. You must make a post clearly indicating that you are leaving the area this thread governs to move to another.
Post clearly that you are entering this area as well; one of these posts should be made for every active character during the travel phase.
Moving between areas during a travel phase is discouraged, and should be discussed first.
Before posting in ANY IC thread, characters must be approved by the GM.
« Last Edit: March 01, 2021, 11:57:29 pm by Chevaleresse »
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GM of Trespassers V2.
I'm writing a science fantasy story. Mostly hiatused due to life stuff.
If you like my work, consider becoming a patron. (Since apparently people think this is a requirement: no, my game(s) are free to play and always will be.

StormLord

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Friedhold after arriving on the castle once more found his way towards the Ballroom, or more specifically the Kitchen.  The slender man's blocky features were seeming to look a bit more harrowed than the last time he was here an his dirty hair had just a few more white strands in it than before, a look betrayed by a fairly untroubled mood as he rummaged through the cabinets for something resembling food.  A child follows him as he does, a girl with dark hair anywhere from eight to ten wearing an ill-fitting dress with light splattering's of blood and dirt.

Eventually Friedhold settles on simmering some rice with a fistful of walnuts and some strange berries tossed in at the end.  He spoons out some for himself and the girl before leaving the rest of the warm meal for anyone who wants some.
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We are born, out of storm and thunder,
Raised, tear the worlds asunder,
Sent, in the darkest hour,
By the hands of power.

barkhasia

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Where once nothing was in its place, a rift spiraled and popped out an enrobed kobold onto the open floor of the Ballroom face first. As Mush face planted hard, he let out a huff and just lay there still, before frantically getting to his feet as realization sets in that the floor is not the damp dirt of his jungle but a cold stone floor. He surveyed the room and with no entities, relaxed marginally but kept his awareness up. And then the smell of a hot meal wafted in from another door, the nice fruity scent put his mind at ease.

Letting out a series of laughing clicks of joy, he ran to the source of the smell and found a pot of strange cooked grains with wrinkled nuts and mysterious berries. Mush shrugged as food was good and shoved his hands into the container, spooning out the nice food using his cupped palms. There he sat in the corner with his legs wrapped around the pot and went to sleep with a full stomach.
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And so the True Emperor came from heaven and laughed. ‘I am but a farmer, these tricks of kings and rage of men are beyond my humble nature. I do have one talent, however. I can pluck the weeds, and when the fields grow long and ungainly’, and here he pulled his divine scythe and advanced on the crowd. ‘I can reap my harvest’.

Devastator

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Newton, the large undead crow, enters the ballroom kitchen, following the food smells.

Inside is a kobold and a slender man.  (Or is it a slenderman? ;-p)  Upon sighting these two, the crow lands, gaze moving from person to person.



Two people!  Two people!  New people.  That one's short, looks a bit small.  That one's bigger.  Both seem pretty dangerous.

Friend?  Rival?  Enemy?  Fight?  Run?
  The bird mind swiftly goes through it's limited options, before another thought comes in, on top of it.

Calm down.  Neither of them is a bird, so they're not rivals.  They might not be friendly, but they aren't attacking yet, so they're probably just people.  This is a big building, and there's lots of stuff out here.. that big ballroom was well done up, so there is no reason to think they're bad people.. the place isn't full of dead birds or any of the walls of madness or eternal fire pits or pillars of skulls..

A third thought comes in.

Sadly.  You wouldn't let me keep the last blood fountain.  And it was a proper one too, not just glamoured water..

You shut up now, kicks in the second mind.  You'd just have us drink blood all day.  Corpses are tasty, but sitting around bloated wouldn't have been any good when that necrolord walked in, we'd just have been enthralled.  Again.  What is it with wizards and crow familiars, anyway.  Still.. do you have any suggestions.

The bird mind chirps up, all bright and clean and pure.  Food?  This does smell tasty.  And there's lots of food here.

The third one comes out next, dark and smoky, but also straight, straight as a bullet from a gun.  We should do something to make them wary.. show how we're strong and not prey

The second one, the main one, all curves and cunning and soft thoughts.. Ahh, but that's where you're wrong.  We can show our strength, while not showing them all we can do.  We play some mind games.  And some mind games with food.

No normal crow can cook, or prepare meals.  And if they don't know what we can do, they won't strike first.. they'll be wary.  And we'll show we're the boss.

..Now, here's what we'll do..




All that passed in the space of a dozen seconds, with the bird perched on a countertop, eyes flickering around the room swifty.  Then it takes action, flying down to a pantry, grabbing the handle with both talons, and beating its wings away to open it up.  It then smoothly releases, flips around, and stuffs its head into a sack of winter apples.

It then returns with the apple, a few black feathers trailing behind it, and places it down on the countertop.  Instead of digging into the apple, trying to carve it up with its talons or biting away with its beak, it hops over to a drawer, and pulls it open to recover a big knife, with which it plucks, flaps once into the air, and dives upon the apple, cutting it clean into two pieces.

Victorious, the bird drops the knife with a clatter and begins tearing into the two apple halves, eyes alternating between its prize and the two others.
« Last Edit: March 06, 2021, 04:42:19 am by Devastator »
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StormLord

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Friedhold watches the small reptilian creature come into the room and quite barbarically scoop handfuls of race into its out until it passed out in the corner.  Alright he thought, rude but not strange for this place in the slightest.
But then he watched the bird and its exploits, cutting an apple like that on its own clearly it wasn't some dumb animal.  Having finished with his bowl anyway Friedhold stood and deposited it in the sink before walking to the pantry near the bird.  He took out another apple, halved and quartered it with the knife, then opened the latched burner door to reveal the dying wood-coals from the fire for the rice and set the apple peel-down into them.  After a minute or two he pulled them out and took two, the place the other two in front of the bird.
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We are born, out of storm and thunder,
Raised, tear the worlds asunder,
Sent, in the darkest hour,
By the hands of power.

Devastator

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The bird remains at arms length, sitting on a table a good ways away from the cooked apple peel, eyeing it warily.

Well, looks like the human wants to challenge me.  Not sure which of us is the better cook, we might have to settle this on the battlefield.. the kitchen battlefield, of course.

Still, it's a friendly gesture, and apple skins are tasty..


The bird jumps over and gulps down one of the skin quarters, head up and swallowing it quickly down its gullet.

Though I need to escalate things.  I might be outmatched as a cook, if that human knows how to cook properly.  Maybe it was the wrong move to choose cooking.

..well, lets see what I can do next..


The crow begins trying to assemble some ingredients for its next attempt.  It starts with some vegetables, then looks around for some meat, eventually finding what could be termed a raw chuck steak.

This time it gets an actual plate out first, upon which it begins cutting the steak to pieces with its talons.  It's not yet clear what the plan is yet, but it's cutting the meat into what would be bite-sized chunks.
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barkhasia

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The kobold arose from his nap to the smell of raw meat, it's stomach growled in displeasure of only eating nuts in grains though the fruit was fine. He opened one of his eyes slowly to look at the humie and the big bird messing around with apples when his eye zoomed in to the slab of steak. Sweet salivation set in as he scrambled on all fours to the table and grabs a few chunks for itself. Mush barks out a guttural squeal of glee and says "Mine it is," before cramming his fist into his mouth.
Logged
And so the True Emperor came from heaven and laughed. ‘I am but a farmer, these tricks of kings and rage of men are beyond my humble nature. I do have one talent, however. I can pluck the weeds, and when the fields grow long and ungainly’, and here he pulled his divine scythe and advanced on the crowd. ‘I can reap my harvest’.

Devastator

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"Caw!" The bird screeches, evidently displeased at having its meat stolen, even if it was its for only a minute.

"Caw, Caw, Caw!"

It then takes steps to protect its food, by standing next to it and spreading its wings wide, trying to give the impression that bad things will happen if it is repeated.

The next thing the bird nees is something to fry things on.  Frying pans are heavy.  Since it isn't worried about handles, it chooses a baking pan instead, slowly dragging it to the top of the oven where it can be placed on a burner, by stacking up a few objects so that it only needs to flutter-leap it's way to the top of the oven.
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StormLord

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Friedhold sighed sharply as the strange reptile left on the table to steal the bird's meat.  He'd actually been enjoying the little game they were playing, but he supposed it was going to end eventually anyway.
He turned to Mash with a harsh tone of voice and a heavy German accent.
"That is enough.  You will act with civility in the kitchen or you will be removed from it."
Friedhold truly had no idea how much or little the little creature would understand of what he said, though he hoped he wouldn't be wrangling someone's escaped pet this evening.
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We are born, out of storm and thunder,
Raised, tear the worlds asunder,
Sent, in the darkest hour,
By the hands of power.

Devastator

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The bird looks at the tall man like it understands every word perfectly.

It then responds by showing proper disdain for the lizard-creature.  The remaining meat is spread out on the top of the sheet, a fork is turned up, and some fresh vegetables are recovered and chopped to make the intended product clear.. a stir-fry.

some condiments are clumsily added, and a little oil is used (with the bottle being opened through a complicated maneuver as the bird knocks the container over and stands astride it to unscrew it with its beak from above, only spilling a small amount of it), but the product seems.. relatively well-made, all considered.  The creature cannot properly turn it in full, but can poke away at the meat and veg enough to ensure a proper, if less than ideal, cooking.

That finished, it grabs about a third of it and moves the chunks onto a plate, leaving the rest for the others.  It noisily eats away on the countertop next to the stove.
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barkhasia

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Mush looks at the two and narrows its eyes. "The meat was good. I am amazed more that you can speak unnamed human. The worlds of Phyllaxos had your sort as primitive nomads hunting for the giants herds of the grasslands. Curious how you've developed a coherent language not of monosyllabic grunts quicker than your brethren. I am lucky to meet such an unorthodox sample. Though this all may be an unusual dream of course." An intelligence shines through somehow from the barbaric creature's mouth.
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And so the True Emperor came from heaven and laughed. ‘I am but a farmer, these tricks of kings and rage of men are beyond my humble nature. I do have one talent, however. I can pluck the weeds, and when the fields grow long and ungainly’, and here he pulled his divine scythe and advanced on the crowd. ‘I can reap my harvest’.

crazyabe

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Bliznex

Bliznex decides to follow his nose- while he still has one, and ends up stumbling into the ballroom- quickly finding himself in the kitchen, he takes a glance around the room and says...

"Something about this feels like a joke, a scientist type, a particularly lively Norwegian Blue, an' a rather tiny dragon are all in the kitchen when a man in a dress walks in..."
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nothing here.

StormLord

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Friedhold lets out s sigh as Mush starts speaking an his demeanor changes as he realizes the situation better.
"You have not been informed have you?  Step own please."
Friedhold gestures for the dragoniod to hop off the table while he goes to the sink and wets one hand and grabs a sponge with the other.  He steps back to the table and flicks droplets of water in a patch on its surface.  He points to one of the droplets.
"Your world, every thing you have ever know, every place, every person, down to the laws of physics.  Now you are out here-" He gestures up to Mush as he stands now, "-On a castle ship moving through the space between, same as all of the rest of us.  Your purpose is to stop beings known as Trespassers who seek to devour all worlds." As he says this Friedhold passes over the table with the sponge, wiping out droplet after droplet. "Any questions?"
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We are born, out of storm and thunder,
Raised, tear the worlds asunder,
Sent, in the darkest hour,
By the hands of power.

Devastator

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"Caw", says the bird, resorting to that most useful of words.  It then quickly glances about for a writing instrument, before deciding on the cooking sheet, picking up the remaining meat and shoving it.. into its feathery chest?  Can't quite follow it.

It then picks up the grease covered cooking sheet and writes something with its beak, before balancing it on the wall at a high angle.

"If this not my world, who owns it?" reads the grease-covered sheet.
« Last Edit: March 10, 2021, 01:07:30 am by Devastator »
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StormLord

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Friedhold frowns for a moment at the crow's question, considering how to explain the situation.
"We are on the table between the droplets, the space between worlds.  The void."
He gestured to the place on the table he'd previously sprinkled water as he spoke, then moved to point more broadly to the walls of the room and castle as a whole.
"If you mean this castle particularly I believe it was granted to our group by an unknown benefactor.  I've heard some of the earliest members speak of a man run through with dozens of blades claiming to be the one who gifted it.  But I was not present for that event."
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We are born, out of storm and thunder,
Raised, tear the worlds asunder,
Sent, in the darkest hour,
By the hands of power.
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