Subject: "Maybe."
Author:
Posted on: 2008-10-31 04:04:00 UTC
She looks around the room.
"However, I'm bored. Let's...go trick-or-treating!"
She grins at the Lady.
Subject: "Maybe."
Author:
Posted on: 2008-10-31 04:04:00 UTC
She looks around the room.
"However, I'm bored. Let's...go trick-or-treating!"
She grins at the Lady.
Welcome to the PPC Board Halloween Costume Party! This will be going on the whole weekend (24-26), so I hope you enjoy.
I hope you wore your costume, because this is a masquerade. I'm not in mine yet, since otherwise it'd be obvious.
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The (secondary) Board has been decorated in an impressively slapdash way. Orange and black streamers decorate the room, and pumpkins of various sizes litter the floors, waiting to be tripped over. In the center of the room is a table cluttered with bowls of candies. Next to the table is a cooler of sodas and and various bleep drinks.
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When you make your introductory post in here, make sure to describe your costume. Your username can be of a canon character, and the actual 'costume', the description, can be as creative or accurate as you care to be.
This will be going on in here and in the Bravo chat as well.
Have fun!
A person dressed entirely in grey and with a headband with ears on and a short tail tied to their belt walks in and starts scratching.
Perhaps including real fleas in this costume was a bad idea...
A short brown-haired girl with alert brown eyes strolls in, looking around casually. 'At least it's not a formal event...' she thinks, glad of being able to wear her orange flight-suit instead of some confining gown.
Jaina Solo, Jedi, pilot, (and pseudo-Goddess, of late) wanders aimlessly, looking for someone to talk to. At least, she feels, this is better than Hapes.
Sheryl grinned at the newcomer, her eyes slightly unfocused, "is that a flight suit you're wearing? I guess that you're a pilot then."
She staggered over to the orange-clad woman and slung a friendly, perhaps too much so, arm over her shoulder. "I like pilots. Wanna get to know each other better?"
Jaina blinks at the older woman, and slides out from under her arm. "I guess I arrived a bit late, then..." She wonders if it might have been better not to come here. The young Jedi can foreseee things getting awkward quite rapidly if this persists.
One has to hate it.Welcome to the party, here have a spice chocolate,
Leto hands a small chocolate to the jedi. It is nothing like SW spice, but it is envigorating!
Jaina samples the chocolate, smiling. "Very nice."
Removing her arm, Sheryl twirled around on the spot, somehow managing not to fall over her own feet. She'd had slightly too muck of the bleepka, which wasn't alcoholic in itself, but she had a low tolerance even for synthetic alcohol. It was a miracle she wasn't passed out in a corner by now.
Just fashionably not early.
A girl in a vaguely renaissance-looking green shirt and black leggings walks into the room, fiddling with her belt, which was actually a scarf and ought to be on her head and not her waist. Hanging from the scarf/belt is a case containing a tin whistle. She is absolutely not wearing the same thing she wears to renaissance faires every year, definitely not.
She makes a beeline for the food and descends upon any chocolate she can find, cringing away from any bubble gum or fruity candy.
The Marquis smiles at the girl, and gestures to the spread.
"There's plenty to go around, I'm sure."
Leaning over her to take some chocolate for himself, he notices the case attached to her scarf/belt.
"A musician, are you?"
The Piper grabbed another piece of chocolate. "I can't hit any note higher than an E, but I can play the lower songs fairly well."
[OOC: I love Neverwhere!]
The Marquis smiles, cat-like, and takes a penny-whistle from inside his coat. He plays a few notes, before making it disappear again.
"Do you know that one?"
The Piper feels the briefest impulse to reach for her purse, then realizes she doesn't have a purse. "It's something by Blaise, isn't it?"
[OOC: Am I recognizing it right? When I think of "Marquis" and "music" together, this is what comes to mind.]
The Marquis is surprised to find that the Piper knows this, but masks his emotion well as he reaches for another piece of chocolate.
"It's a very useful tune, wouldn't you say?"
The Piper forces herself to stop eating the candy before she gets sick. She still lingers by the snacks, intrigued by the Marquis and a bit unwilling to leave him alone. She wouldn't admit the slight interest in hearing the song again, in hopes of being able to duplicate it. Such a thing was unethical, and she would never dream of it. Really.
"I've heard it can backfire. Have you ever had problems with it?"
"It only backfires if you're not careful." His tone suggests that that the very idea of him being less than careful is somewhat laughable.
From what canon hails The Marquis? He seems like such a fascinating character.
I recognize the title, but my experience with Gaiman has been mixed. As in, I quite enjoyed Good Omens and Stardust, but I put down American Gods barely a dozen pages in. Based on that, do you think I'd enjoy Neverwhere?
It's a fantastic book. And a good TV series, too.
blue within blue eyes
non-descript sand coloured still suit (enviro tight clothing that doesn:t allow the loss of water).
Goes over to the side board, wonder if there is going to be any spice here? Wonder what would happen if you mixed it with Bleeprin?
LA
Chani waves to Leto, grinning madly, and throws a slightly green-tinged chocolate to him.
"Spice-candy," she calls to him, explaining why she has been sticking mainly to the chocolates.
He has this sudden urge to hord Spice Candy, he can:t unterstand it. It seems like a primal urge.
"They are all MINE" Leto starts running aroud picking up candy and storing it in a corner.
"And that's how I ended up in a corner with a massive amount of spice-chocolate mixed in with other random candies. Child, if you eat all of the chocolate, I'll lock you in a room with Irulan for a week. I mean it, too."
I was only going to horde it and dole it out to the Bene Gesserit very slowly. I have my Golden Path to concider!
"Well, please consider your mother, as well. Chocolate is full of relaxants...which is why I may end up force-feeding some to your father."
Chani rose to her feet, sliding her crysknife into her belt as she stood and carrying the bowl of chocolate with her. She headed off towards the drink table, selecting one and raising her eyebrows as she tasted it.
"Spice...nogg?"
"Be careful with it, though." She then proceeds to take out a notepad and pen, preparing to write down the results of that experiment.
Or, set off the transformation? Cause I thing a huge worm in the middle of a party would be a hard one to explain.
Lady giggles. "Well, that's what those crazy scientists that I bumped into earlier say. But I wouldn't trust them."
"No, really, you don't want an Arrakeen sandworm in the middle of here. It is a big, scary monster that could literally swallow this room in one bite. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like being eaten by my own son."
...Arrakeen sandworm?" Lady shrugs. "He could become an earthworm...wait, he's your son?"
"So that's two of us. And yes, he's my son. He has my eyes," Chani grins.
"Evidently this...er...spice turns people into worms...I am so going to kill those scientists..." she grumbles.
"Oh, no, it doesn't turn everyone into a sandworm. Just my son," she informs the Lady, popping another spice-chocolate.
Lady smiles. "Are they good?"
"Wouldn't eat to many, though. You'll get addicted--literally." She offers a chocolate to the Lady.
She nibbles at it. "Kinda tastes like truffles and cinnamon," she notes.
"And the spice-nogg is really good, too. Wasn't sure how that would work out...but it did. And now...I'm just a wee bit--whoa! Why's the room spinning?" the Fremen woman staggers as the alcohol and spice invade her system in a rush. "Shtraight linesh are overrated..."
"Someone seems to have spiked your spice-nogg with Pink Stuff, or some other kind of immediate-drunkness alcoholic beverage!" she exclaimed. "Damnit, I don't have any antidotes..."
That is the joy of being a female from the Dune universe. She has that much control over her body.
And, I DON:T want to be a worm again, or else, I would have taken you up on that offer of unchanged spice before hand.
"Well...feminists probably love the Dune universe."
Lady laughs. "Wonder what this spice does to Mary Sues, hmm?"
Chani shrugs.
"I know the effects on normal people, but not on Sues. Perhaps that can be tested. Unfortunately, there's the off-chance that it'll give them abilities beyond comprehension, but then that's the power of the spice."
"I believe that can be tested eventually...but I fear I've developed quite a liking to these spice candies..."
"They are...the most wonderful things, aren't they?"
Lady pops another candy into her mouth. "I fear that I might get a little too attached, though..."
"Unless you want to be addicted to it for the rest of your life...I'd suggest limiting your intake of spice."
"But I'm assuming there'll soon be a 'Spicaholics Anonymous' club here soon."
She looks around the room.
"However, I'm bored. Let's...go trick-or-treating!"
She grins at the Lady.
Chani grabbed the Lady's hand and dragged her off for some major candy-gathering, and a very enjoyable Halloween.
[I suppose it'll end there, then, as Halloween is over.]
...with the Cafeteria burnt down and two people with flamethrowers who are obviously on sugar highs.
That's more PPC-ish. ;]
Is quite leathal. But this positive thing is that it extends life significantly. Aswell as enhancing mental abilities. Although, with some people, it is a small agony everyday.
There is a young man here who moves with the alert confidence of someone who has won many battles. His long, uneven brown hair is tied back so as to obscure little of his face and less of his vision. However, the blue-and-green mask he wears covers at least enough of his face on its own.
As our imaginary viewer's eyes travel downward, they pause on a blue cape, a slightly battered breastplate over a gray-green tunic, and a worn sword hanging from the man's belt.
After a few moments spent looking around, Felix nods, steps forward a little, and holds out his hand. Those sensitive to magical or psychic phenomena would see a giant ghostly hand spring out from his own, close gently on a cup of Hot Bleepolate, and carry it back to him; those not so sensitive would simply see the cup flying into Felix's hand. He raises the cup to his mouth, but stops as it hits the mask. His other arm moves up into a facepalm.
Chani eyes the newcomer and throws a butterscotch at him.
"Can't eat candy with a mask on," she informs him, feeling like a small child and loving it.
"Apparently not," he replies, ignoring the butterscotch. Or, at least, as much as one can ignore something when there's a pirate diving for it. "I had forgotten I was wearing it."
Putting the drink down on a Convenient Table (TM), Felix extends his hand again - this time in a handshake mode. "I am Felix."
A bit puzzled- he's not used to ghostly hands, especially not those that aren't attacking-, Faris eyes both Felix and Chani, and then swoops on the butterscotch. "You're wasting these, throwing them around like that," he says, waving the candy at Chani.
Chani grins and throws another one at him.
"So eat 'em."
For good measure, Hiro (who is sitting next to Chani) chucks another butterscotch at Faris.
"Wasting?" He asks. "Butterscotches were made to be thrown."
Faris ducks that one, and picks it up. "They're edible," he says, and pops the first one into his mouth. "'Sides, who makes food to be thrown? Aside of custard pies, of course."
"And those sausage-bun thingies," Chani adds, contemplating actually eating the candy instead of throwing it.
"Nah, you give those to the dog," Faris says, and grins. "Especially if it's not yours."
"And it's the neighbor's dog that keeps barking in the middle of the night. And it's a really mean, ugly dog. Then again, you could just hit it over the head with the sausage-bun to achieve the same effect," adds Chani through a mouthful of caramel.
"Kind of hard for us to have neighbours," Faris says. "They don't seem that inclined to stick along, for some reason." He grins and pops the second butterscotch into his mouth. "Must be they don't fancy our colours much."
Chani laughs, and holds up a dark brown candy.
"Root beer...for eating or for throwing?"
"They make beer solid now?" Faris peers at the candy. "I can't decide if that's a waste or an excellent idea. I'd say probably for eating, 'less it's the bad stuff."
Wolfram approached Chani and Faris, grabbing a candy from the bowl and eating it. "If it's human beer I doubt it's safe to drink."
"Well, it's handy that I'm human then, isn't it?" Faris grinned at Wolfram. "And I can tell you Syldra appreciates his share of the beer and other delicacies, too, though a' course he can catch his own, too." He snagged a root beer and glanced at the drinks table to see if they had some proper alcohol. "So, if you don't like this stuff, what do you like?"
He- well, as far as anyone can tell- makes for the candy, after a quick look around, and appears to be looking for gold-wrapped coins and possibly just anything that takes his fancy. He's wearing a blue tunic-like shirt, brown trousers and boots, and has a green scarf loosely wrapped around his neck, a bag at his waist, and a sheathed sword. His hair falls just past his shoulders, and is purple.
The blond appeared to be a young man, wearing a blue officer's military uniform and a rapier at his side. Green eyes scanned the room and he crossed his arms petulantly while trying to force back the excited grin on his face.
"Hmpf. A human party? Can't say I'm impressed." The boy kicked one of the pumpkins. "What are all these things doing on the floor? This is so unsanitary!"
Chani carefully aimed and lobbed a chocolate at the young man, hitting him in the forehead.
"There's candy, stupid," she snorted, taking aim with a caramel and pegging the blond in the nose.
The next projectile landed in his open mouth, forcing the ex-prince to swallow it quickly. "What do you think you're- argh!" Young Lord von Bielfielt grabbed one of the chocolates from where it had landed at his feet and threw it at Chani. "Take that, you harpy!"
"I am no harpy...I just like throwing things."
Chani couples that remark with a thrown butterscotch.
The tan, dark-haired young woman sat cross-legged in a corner, her vivid blue eyes watching all warily as she hugged a large bowl of candy to her chest. A long crysknife lay sheathed next to her, and her green tunic and tan trousers were made of a simple, homespun cloth.
"A strange Offworld custom," she mumbled to herself through a mouthful of chocolate, "but a good one."
I didn:t know if she could, but that it the miracle of the gloha.
I wonder if my sister is going to make it out?
"The miracle of the shattering of the Fourth Wall, actually, my dear," corrects Chani, thwapping her son lightly on the shoulder.
"Your father and Ghani couldn't make it, unfortunately, though you might thank me for keeping Alia from coming...Maker knows what'd happen."
The HQ would not survive the mayhem that would ensue. The Baron is not one for civilized parties.
"No...definitely not. Because what beast is? And speaking of beasts...what think you of this interesting Offworld custom of disguising oneself like a beast and collecting candy? I'm finding it...fun."
She pops another candy into her mouth, enjoying the Spiciness of the chocolate.
"Everyone there is wearing a mask, all the time. But it is nice to just be ones self everyone in a while. Having no one look over your shoulder..."
Leto pops a spice chocolate, "ah, now that is warmth."
"Yes, courtiers do seem like monsters begging for candy, don't they?" She looks at her spice-nogg dubiously, feeling slightly tipsy.
Hiro approaches Chani, carefully keeping in front of her, and keeping an eye on her knife hand.
"Planning on eating all of that yourself?"
The Fremen woman looks down at the massive bowl of candy, then back up at the unfamiliar man.
"Well, I was. But probably not anymore."
She nudges a pumpkin away with a sandal, making room for Hiro to sit, and sets the bowl in front of her.
Hiro pauses long enough to take off his sword, and then sits down, cross-legged. He grabs something involving far too much chocolate and peanut butter to be healthy, and then leans back against the wall.
"You know," he says after a moment of thought, "this place could use some music."
Chani cocks her head, then nods.
"Definitely. Unfortunately, I have neither the skill nor the inclination to remedy that," she comments, pegging a bystander with a root beer flavored candy.
Sheryl scowled at the candy-throwing maniac and brushed the offending missile out of her long two-toned hair.
"If you're lucky, and providing I don't get hit with any more projectile candy, I may give you all a song later. I am the Galaxy Fairy, one of the most famous songstresses in the entire galaxy after all."
"I'm sure it will be just lovely..." Hiro mutters sarcastically (and very quietly). Vocals, especially female vocals, are not what he considers "music". He'd much rather be listening to the distortion and feedback of nuclear fuzz-grunge.
Sheryl snapped, "that my singing is so good that even giant alien space bugs appreciate it. I protected my adopted home from enemies with my songs, at the risk of my own life. What has 'nuclear fuzz-grunge', whatever that is, ever done for humanity?" Sheryl's hair was practically standing on end, her eyes somehow flashing angrily in the dim lighting. Hiro's comment hadn't quite been quiet enough for the pro singer to miss.
A young man leans against the wall, arms folded. He's wearing a black eye-mask, a long black trench/frock-coat, high black leather boots, black trousers, a dark red waistcoat and a white frilly shirt, the lace cuffs of which fall over his hands. He's also grinning in a rather worrying manner.
"Hello," she says, sipping from a glass of Bleepka. "I like your costume."
"Likewise. And you are?"
"But you may call me Lady." She giggles a little and sips more of her Bleepka.
He smiles at her. "And I am the Marquis de Carabas."
Lady smiles bashfully. "Like the Marquis from Puss in Boots?" she asks.
The Marquis brushes at his lapels. "I am not a cat, after all."
Lady looked flustered. "The Marquis de Carabas was the name Puss in Boots fashioned for his master." She shrugged and finished off her Bleepka.
... her nose briefly wrinkling at the papery decor. She ignored it, smoothing her hands down the fabric of her blue dress. Most of the fabric was pulled to gather at the small of her back, where it billowed out dramatically, beautifully, save that it also acted as a dry mop for the dusty floor. Noticing this, she sighed.
"Ah, well," she muttered. "Can clean it later."
Making her way to the centre table, Madame Meru stumbled over a very small pumpkin and proceeded to kick it aside with a scowl. Reaching her goal, she took up a glass of water - yes, water, for now - and looked at her companions over the rim of her thin glasses. "May I presume that we will be guessing one another's identities at the end of this... 'party'?"
A young girl in a red dress sneaks into the party. Her wine-red dress has a flower rosette on one shoulder and small dots of...some glitter-like substance lining the hem. She wears a brown leather belt that looks a bit like a corset.
The girl also has a mask on. It is brown, with peacock and eagle feathers trimming it. She is wearing a little makeup and her black hair is actually combed for once, and done up with a barette.
"I know I look a little Sue-ish right now, but I don't have anything else in the closet right about now," she mutters to anyone who stares at her as she makes her way to the table of bleep drinks, tripping over random pumpkins.
A young man of indeterminate origin enters the room, and leans on a wall a ways away from Sheryl. His face is somewhat asian, but very dark. He wears a black T-shirt with "Cosa Nostra Pizza" printed on the back, and black jeans almost hiding a pair of boots. A katana, in its sheath, is strapped to his hip.
Sheryl looked up at the newcomer, cool eyes assessing him as a smile graced her lips. Pushing off from the wall she sauntered over to him.
"Hi, I don't believe I've seen you around before," Sheryl purred, running a finger down his chest. "What's your name, big boy?" She had a sort-of boyfriend, but he wasn't there and she wasn't with him as such, and no one said she couldn't flirt.
Hiro twitched at the waist - the amputated stump of a reflexive Japanese bow rearing its head.
"Hiro Protagonist," he said with a smile. "Last of the freelance hackers and greatest swordfighter in the world."
Hiro looked down at the finger on his chest, and then back at Sheryl's face, smiling faintly.
"I'm afraid I'm already spoken for," he said. "My apologies."
"Oh, that's too bad. Well, you know where to find me if you ever change your mind."
A young woman leaned on the wall, blue eyes closed as she waited for other partygoers to turn up. She wore a short, blue sleeveless dress, which was longer in the back than the front, over a half-sleeved white blouse, with a large pink bow tied around her neck. Her hands and forearms were covered by spotless white gloves, and a chunky bangle dangled from one wrist. Her pink and blonde hair was topped by a blue beret the same colour as her dress, and she wore a pair of tan-coloured knee-length heeled boots on her feet. A half-empty can of soda dangled from one hand as she flipped her hair back to reveal a single earring, an iridescent purple gem hanging delicately within a golden rhombus and connected to her ear by a wire so fine it was invisible but for the single bead halfway down it.