Well if he isn't going to stand by himself he gets carried like a bag of potatoes thrown over her shoulder. She tosses him up and tries to carry him out and back to her place.
((Yeah I'll go post there.))
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Well if he isn't going to stand by himself he gets carried like a bag of potatoes thrown over her shoulder. She tosses him up and tries to carry him out and back to her place.
((Yeah I'll go post there.))
Samantha chuckles softly at his first remark. As he goes into his story, Samantha looks at him attentively, as though she is only listening to him and tunes out all other sounds. When he finishes, she lets out a heavy sigh, and goes to put her hand on his in a gentle, comforting sort of manner.
She looks at him, avoiding his eyes, and says jokingly"No wonder your at a bar. With such a...colorful past, you need a drink more than I do, and that's saying something." She calls over a waiter and says his bill is on her.
She smiles as she looks back at him, then says with all the tenderness of a concerned mother "I am sorry for your troubles though. Truly I am. I can empathize with some of those issues."
Her voice trails off to a whisper at the end, as she looks over to her brother who has his eyes fixed on her, while still listening to the conversation about magic at the next table.
He lets out a bit of a smile when she puts her hand on his; looking between her, their hands, and the floor. When the waiter comes over, he orders himself a shot of Everclear. "Can you now?" He asks in a curious sort of a manner "Whats your story - if you don't mind me asking," he says, putting his cigarette down in the ash tray and letting it burn to the filter.
Into the bar walks an armload of squat, yellow potted plants.
Wait, that's not right.
Into the bar, on four vine-like stalks serving as locomotion, shuffles a woman in a pair of leather pants and a pressed white shirt with six slits in the back to accommodate said vines. Why six? Because she has two more vines, of course, which are helping her arms hold up a truly massive number of potted plants. Why, it looks like there's at least one for each table!
Well okay, not that many, but there's enough for each table occupied by important people. Shayan, AMEN's resident creepy and distant nurse, starts her slow trek around the tables, depositing a bit of colour and vibrant scent to every table that looks like it needs it. What a nice gesture.
On closer inspection, the plants are rather thorny squat cacti, which means Cosmo doesn't even have to water them all that much! They each have a big fragrant yellow flower on their tops though.
A rather odd thing for an AMENite to be doing, admittedly, but once she's done she simply lowers herself into a seat and waits for someone to happen by and take her order.
Nadas looks up from his book as his table receives a plant.
"Uhhh... the sentiment is appreciated." That was random.
He looks at the plant. Then tilts his head a bit, pulls out his notebook and begins doing a quick sketch for classification. This should be cataloged. Or at the very least, labeled.
Shortly afterwards, Isabelle steps into the bar.
She would appear to be hatless today, having elected instead to arrange an array of brightly coloured feathers in her hair, in addition to the usual odd streak of dye here and there to add colour to the blackness.
Her dress today is a rather dull beige. A nice change from black, perhaps, but again it is brightened up with strategically placed pieces of animal fur. Some bright, some dull, some with exotic patterns on them. None of them really seem recognizable as something taken from a "normal" animal.
Seems like Isabelle must have raided jungles far and wide across many worlds to acquire her range of animal samples.
One particular adjustment of note is some length of fur, possibly from something vaguely similar to a fox, stretched over one shoulder. Cedric is curled up asleep on this patch, suggesting that it is perhaps a deliberate adjustment to make the nightmare squirrel's perch somewhat more comfortable.
Though Isabelle has not met her before, the magical monster maker has done her research. Upon spotting Shayan she quickly makes her way over to the fellow AMENite's table. "I didn't expect to see another one of us here. Do you mind if I join you?"
Shayan looks up at her unexpected guest, eyes clouded and misty for a moment, "You seem to have me at a disadvantage, but I'm not expecting anyone. Please, sit if you'd like. Shayan's vines fold behind her, clearing the space they formerly occupied on the table as she settles herself in her seat. Her voice has a sort of sing-song quality to it at the moment, a sign that she might be heavily medicated and trying her best not to break out into song if there ever was one.
Nadas may find that the plant is unlike any he's researched yet, although it comes close to a few. Its spines are wickedly curved up towards the light, bending to grab as much light as they can from their surroundings.
Isabelle gives Shayan a grateful smile and takes a seat. She carefully picks Cedric up from his shoulder perch and places him on the table. "Poor dear. I wonder what's got him so tired today? I came to Trog's to get a drink for him and he's asleep!"
How inconvenient! Hopefully he'll wake up soon.
"Well, since I have no desire to have you at a disadvantage allow me to introduce myself. I am Isabelle, Isabelle Hunt. I joined AMEN only very recently. I made sure to familiarize myself with the organisation and its members as soon as possible, which is how I was able to recognize you. Though they may not have provided the most detailed of descriptions, AMEN's minions hardly needed to say more than "the vine lady" for me to identify you."
Shayan's smile is queer, but amused, quirking up at one corner briefly as she speaks, "I am certainly that. I'm also AMEN's practicing nurse, although I've not had much practice. Cin and I usually spend our days in Atlantis, pouring over specimens and trying to come up with new ways to manipulate them." She casually strokes the fleshy green side of the cactus on the table, and it shudders, thorns swiveling quickly towards her fingers in a clear attempt to puncture her skin. She smiles wider, and pulls her hand back.
Then she purses her lips, and if Isabelle listens carefully she might hear a soft whistling. Sounds like "Farmer in the Derry" but it's mostly tuneless apart from a few distinct notes.
"So who's this?" She gestures to Cedric with a vine, her eyes finally moving from Isabelle's face to the squirrel.
A woman walks in through the door, wearing a silk tank top and a pleated skirt. She's voluptuous, has long black hair, and an innocent smile on her face that is far too innocent to be innocent.
She takes all of two steps before tripping over her own feet, keeping herself from falling onto the floor by catching herself on an unoccupied table.
"Very interesting..." Isabelle leans in to peer at the cactus, "So by specimens you mean all sorts of plant life. Looks like this little one is rather...bloodthirsty."
Whatever passing resemblance there may be in Shayan's whistles to an actual tune are lost on Isabelle. She's never listened to much in the way of music.
"My dear little friend here is Cedric. One of my biggest successes in my early years of work. He's been a loyal and helpful companion ever since I made him...better." Isabelle gives her little squirrel-y friend a gentle pat on the head.
And that is seemingly enough to wake Cedric up. The squirrel uncurls, looks around, and shrieks at Shayan. The vine lady is treated to Cedric's usual display as he unhinges his jaw and uncurls that long tongue of his, flicking the needle-like end section in her general direction for a moment before curling it all up again.
"Don't mind him. Little dear is just feeling hungry. Just a minute Cedric, mummy will get you a drink."
"Better is a word for it." Shayan says, visually unfazed by the display. She taps the table sharply next to the cactus and moves her hand back in a blink, a second thunk accompanying the first. After a moment it becomes clear what made the noise, as one of the thorns has turn itself into a projectile, embedding into the table.
"I deal mostly with combinations of plants and animals, while Professor Cin works more closely with genetics and isolating unique traits." So he can use them for himself, of course.
"These are very sensitive to vibration and light levels. The thorns are also their seed-bearers, and like to incubate in mammals. My own creation from several unrelated plants, and the first thing I could really call a success." Well, that explains why an AMENite would spread them around Trog's. Mischief and research all rolled into one.
"It will be interesting to see what happens if the lights go out. The earliest ones reacted violently when they didn't get enough sun for any length of time." She taps more softly next to the quivering thorn in the table, and this time, no projectile is forthcoming. So she taps a bit harder, in between her first tap and the second. Still nothing. She frowns for a half second, Not sensitive enough it seems."
Isabelle nods, "So as soon as something heavy or large comes by, and blocks out sunlight or makes the ground vibrate, this plant would launch one of those seed-thorns at it?" Sounds like the sort of improvement Isabelle might make! If she worked with plants that is.
"So it's still a sort of work in progress then? What do you plan to do with it once you've perfected it?"
Ah, and there's Cedric's drink!
...
It looks suspiciously red.
Isabelle slides it over to Cedric who hops back on her shoulder and uncurls his tongue again. Like a long, fleshy straw, he flicks the end into the drink and starts sucking the liquid up.
Samantha opens her mouth to answer the elf's question, but she glances over to her brother, who gives her a quick shake of his head. She closes her mouth and looks down at the floor before answering "I'm sorry, but I can't. It's...complicated. Maybe at some point, but as of right now, it's too early." She glances up and gives him a half-grin and a shrug, hoping she didn't just screw things up.
And cue distraction! At the arrival of the odd plants, Samantha is immediately intrigued. She goes to the nearest one, pulls out her field book and quickly but expertly starts jotting down observations. She's not trying to figure out what it is, so much as what it does. And having over a hundred years of experience (especially in this area) and having traveled to a few different universes helps. While trying to listen to the woman who brought in the plants, she grabs a pair of forceps from her bag. She knows better than to touch the plant directly, so instead she tries to pluck off one of it's thorns with the small metal tongs.
Meanwhile, Samuel simply looks at the one put on his table, jots down some notes, and shows only a mild interest. He knows this is his sister's area, and she'll report her findings back to him later. He need't worry too much.
"No, when the light is blocked out it explodes. There's no way for it to survive in total darkness, but starlight seems to keep it from detonating well enough." She taps again, this time just a hair shy of the frequency she used the first time, and three thorns shoot out and embed themselves into her hand, deep enough that their points stick out of her palm when she flips it over casually to inspect the damage.
"You know, they might actually be more sensitive than I thought. It's possible that it was waiting to ensure that my hand would be where I tapped the last two times before firing." She peers at her creation, seriously considering the intelligence level of a plant, even as the thorns in her hand wriggle about and try to bury themselves deeper into her flesh. They don't seem to be accomplishing much at the moment since their barbed tips are in open air, but if Isabelle looks closely she'll notice they're moving slowly forwards through Shayan's palm.
Angie walks into the Tavern looking around before heading over to a table to take a seat. The young woman is still using her cane to help support her walk. As she sits she seems to be zoning out, though those around that can sense magic, or magical like stuff, may sense her sending out a huge torrent of emotion somewhere.
Nadas examines it and scribbles in his notebook. Scribble scribble scribble scribble. He's long since learned from the Weald not to actually touch anything, but I don't think anyone would be that foolish anyways with a cactus-like plant...
Well maybe with the proper tools.
Oops. Distraction. Nadas looks over. "Is your health unimpaired post gravitational flop miss?
"That looks rather painful" Isabelle observes, still rather calm about it all. She doesn't really get squeamish about...well...anything. One who frequently finds herself up to her neck in bits and pieces of animal is hardly likely to be disturbed by a few thorns in someone's hand.
"I wonder just how clever your little plant is. Will it perhaps detect that I am not you?" A moment, a brief glow of purple light, and Isabelle mimics Shayan's actions.
Samantha will find that despite the ease with which they punctured Shayan's hand, the thorns are rather firmly rooted in the flesh of the cactus. If she has some way of holding the pot while she works with the forceps then eventually the thorn comes loose, snapping off at the base rather than being pulled out whole.
There's a rush of hissing air through the hollow base of the thorn before the cactus closes the wound, sealing itself up and maintaining its internal pressure.
-----
"It is." Shayan agrees before turning her eyes to her hand and bringing it to her lips. Her teeth pinch down on the trio of thorns wriggling in her palm and she gives a quick yank, pulling them through without wincing and placing them on the table when they're free.
When Isabelle taps the table, another single thorn shoots out at her hand, seeking to pierce it as well, "If it did, I doubt it would care. They don't discriminate about their hosts. I'm rather interested to see how a fully implanted specimen causes the host to react. I have theories, but none of them are confirmed yet."
The thorn is deflected from Isabelle's hand by a brief flash of purple.
She nods thoughtfully and swiftly pulls her hand back. Seems that purple flash was a one-time thing, and she has no desire to let her hand actually be punctured by thorns.
"What would you expect to happen to the host then?"
"The plant thrives on sunlight, and I think it mostly uses the vitamin D from it for nutrition. In theory, this means that it would slowly drain whatever animal the thorn was stuck in of vitamin D, causing a deficiency. The plant would grow, seeming more and more like a tumor as it displaced more flesh, until eventually the skin over it would rupture and it would fall out and seek to root in the ground so it can grow more thorns and start the process again. During the internal growth though, the lack of vitamin D would cause something like seasonal affective disorder, which might be successfully countered by the affected animal spending long hours under sunlight. Though that might just cause it to grow faster." Shayan considers the plant with a critical eye, nodding her satisfaction at her own work.
"Basically, it makes you sad and grumpy, and grows to about the size of a golf ball." She chirps, her disposition suddenly sunny and cheerful, "Oh, and cutting it out once one has started growing is usually a bad idea. Just removing the thorn usually causes the seed-pod to break off and lodge itself deeper, but once they start growing the plants store the oxygen they make from CO2, rather than expel it, which means cutting into one could introduce a lot of air into the bloodstream very quickly, killing the host dead."
Meli, nearly grinning at the idea of visiting other worlds, nods enthusiastically. Writing down messages clearly inhibits the excitement of what Meli would say, but the chimeric Elf's curiosity is quite clear.
"If you can, I will surely help. I know little of safety caution, but I'm sure I can do something!"
"Research would be useful. We should do some on both of our ends," Louis says. He seems pretty interested in getting this idea off the ground. "Then we could come together and compare notes. I really just want to make sure the portal won't send you somewhere else by yourself or worse. I haven't even brought my other Super-powered friends through the portal yet."
"My nomenclature is Nadas Ghuand Xar'Cha. A pleasure to make your acquaintance miss Vriveka." Nadas says, with a slight bow.
"Are you having locomotion troubles?" Even when not falling over she seems to be falling over.
"It's not my fault; bipedal locomotion is hard. How any of you run or jump is beyond me." She looks down at her legs. "It's like you're trying to fake having multiple legs by making the ones you do have extra-weird."
Nadas raises an eyebrow.
"I take it you aren't a biped then? A quadruped perhaps?"
"No, it's... ah, what was the... octoped? Eh, I was spidery. Decided to try being human-y out, you know? A freind of mine seems fond of it."
She leans back, putting her hands behind her head. "I can see why you have chairs now. They're pretty useful."
"Oh I'm sorry!" Nadas says, lowering his head in reverence immediately. "I had no idea you were Lolth-touched. Pardon me if I was anything remotely disrespectful." He says, with a touch of worry.
Not that he was...
Llowhatnow?
That's the first thing to cross Vriveka's mind. Happily she has learned to keep the first thing that crosses her mind from coming out of her mouth.
It took major lacerations, but she learned.
"Don't worry about it, as long as you don't do anything stupid and then connect yourself to me I won't care. And if you do I'll turn it around to make you look silly."
She thinks for a moment. "Yeah, that's the main thing. Of course, I haven't been ticked off in a long time. Word gets around, you know?"