Queen Raidne Member

> Meanwhile the Siastraplinicorns would find it utterly absurd that any race could still muster and maintain respect for themselves having witnessed the magnificence of their kind :B. Our races would be that special kind of frenemy. The type who are the "best" of "friends", constantly being passive-aggressive, constantly trying to outdo each other, and always talking behind their backs about the other.

By all means!

[>>>Link<<<](http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/75334/posts/ooc)  __ This pub ("The Really Public Gardens") is an [Inn Between Worlds](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/InnBetweenTheWorlds). You can enter the pub from any multiverse. Inside the pub, real-life characters, roleplay characters, fictional characters, fictional gods, and roleplayers themselves can chat, have a pint, play pool/billiards/darts/game of your choosing, eat any dish they can dream of (they've got a very extensive kitchen), or just sit and watch the proceedings. It's owned by Mary Sue, an omnipotent and omniscient ultra-Goddess capable of performing any action at any time, including kicking gods out, restoring the bar to its original condition, being generally right about things, and being completely impossible to harm, kill, or incapacitate. She doesn't normally tend the bar or wait tables, however. TL;DR: It's a place where characters from any roleplay can hang out with characters from any other roleplay. Or meet real-life people. Or meet fictional people. Or meet the roleplayers. --- ####Character Sheets: Note that to be "accepted" into this "roleplay", all you have to do is correctly and completely fill out a character sheet and post it in the "Characters" tab. I retain the right to veto your character if they're overly sexual or violate the site rules. **Name:** **Gender:** **Appearance:** **One-Sentence Description:** **Link to Character Sheet/Reference Source:** ####OOC Rules: 1. Site rules apply. 2. Erotic things have no place here. Feel free to take it to a PM, but tastefully fade to black in the RP. 3. Multiverse means multiple copies of the same character can exist. Or characters from different points in time. 4. To participate, you must fill out a character sheet. 5. Try to avoid taking over the bar. If someone suddenly stops posting, it's assumed that their characters have picked up and left the pub. They can come back at any time, of course. [>>>Link<<<](http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/75334/posts/ooc)


{Always Accepting}  __ This pub ("The Really Public Gardens") is an [Inn Between Worlds](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/InnBetweenTheWorlds). You can enter the pub from any multiverse. Inside the pub, real-life characters, roleplay characters, fictional characters, fictional gods, and roleplayers themselves can chat, have a pint, play pool/billiards/darts/game of your choosing, eat any dish they can dream of (they've got a very extensive kitchen), or just sit and watch the proceedings. It's owned by Mary Sue, an omnipotent and omniscient ultra-Goddess capable of performing any action at any time, including kicking gods out, restoring the bar to its original condition, being generally right about things, and being completely impossible to harm, kill, or incapacitate. She doesn't normally tend the bar or wait tables, however. TL;DR: It's a place where characters from any roleplay can hang out with characters from any other roleplay. Or meet real-life people. Or meet fictional people. Or meet the roleplayers. --- ####Character Sheets: Note that to be "accepted" into this "roleplay", all you have to do is correctly and completely fill out a character sheet and post it in the "Characters" tab. I retain the right to veto your character if they're overly sexual or violate the site rules. **Name:** **Gender:** **Appearance:** **One-Sentence Description:** **Link to Character Sheet/Reference Source:** _**Example**_ **Name:** George W. Bush **Gender:** Male **Appearance:**  **One-Sentence Description:** A former President of the United States of America with a severe public speaking problem. **Link to Character Sheet/Reference Source:** [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_W._Bush](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_W._Bush) --- ####OOC Rules: 1. Site rules apply. 2. Erotic things have no place here. Feel free to take it to a PM, but tastefully fade to black in the RP. 3. Multiverse means multiple copies of the same character can exist. Or characters from different points in time. 4. To participate, you must fill out a character sheet. 5. Try to avoid taking over the bar. If someone suddenly stops posting, it's assumed that their characters have picked up and left the pub. They can come back at any time, of course.

 It was The Innkeeper's time to tend bar. He was familiar, like all innkeepers from all inns at the start of all adventures. Chubby with a greasy apron and a prominant beard, he was getting a head start on wiping down the bar with a dirty rag. He planned to continue wiping down the bar with a dirty rag until more patrons walked in the door. As it was, there were no outstanding drink orders; all the people at the bar were already happily served. Well, all the patrons except for one. But the old ship-captain named Smith in the corner never ordered a drink. The only things that were missing were the stories and rumors that the Innkeeper could ply adventurers with.

I like to believe that the Fay think the Siastraplinicorns are incredibly arrogant and vain, completely ignoring their own arrogance and vanity. Rather like the pot calling the kettle black.

Monkeypants: Sure, sounds fantastic to me! I'd assume that, what, the dwarv- I mean, Guan - were originally neighbors to the Fay, who in turn subsequently abandoned the Guan when the Laujin came knocking? Add some myth and legend coupled with the occasional rumor from actual sightings, the Fay having a soft spot for the Guan and generally acting nicer toward them than anyone else, and I think this could go somewhere.

####**'\|Deep Space|\,** Sanja had to leave, and that was disappointing. The planet was being consumed. It had been a very beautiful place once. Everything was very predictable; there was even some sort of planetary spirit that regulated verdant year after verdant year. Most importantly of all, however, the locals left her gifts of intricately knotted branches, woven into minute trees and crops. They were small things, some better crafted than others, only ever worth small favors. Often she'd just steal crops from neighbors who'd failed to leave her something this month and leave them for those that did. A simple repayment with oh-so-interesting consequences. It was one of those worlds that really inspired a Fairy to spread her wings and flit about in the double moonbeams. Which was why she felt it really deserved something more than simply running away. Something more interesting than just dissolving into such an ugly morass of... wrongness. All the locals, however, had been too busy fighting the "blight". Their attempts weren't going so well, however, and Sanja liked to think that was in no small part due to her own curses. Serves them right for failing to present offerings. And then they had the nerve to run away and fight! If they'd just stayed, all she would've done was steal their crops. But no, they had to be macho, and so she was forced to foul their weaponry. Curses were so much more draining than simple theft, the wretches! Whatever was eating the world was also throwing the Path into nervous fits. Every time she felt its familiar resonance, it would shift deeper into the jungle, or behind that waterfall, or somewhere *else*, just out of reach. So there was no *time* to stop for theatrics. She had a Path to catch. The Path had been lying still in one place for the past half hour or so. Perhaps there was nowhere else for it to go; Sanja did feel like she'd been chasing it for half a continent. Her wings could certainly use a rest. There was a clearing ahead; perhaps-. The clearing was Joraga-made. Wooden dwellings clustered around a larger cabin, as if huddling for warmth. A tribe was inside; Sanja could hear crying and... song? No, it was prayer. Sanja re-assumed her glamour, covering up her wings with the vision of a beautiful two-piece woven garment as was height of local style. Her face was as perfect as the ugly local faces could be, which almost made it to "plain" in Sanja's estimation. It was still more radiant than anything the dirty, tear-streaked cabin dwellers had to offer. Her bare feet padded softly on the ground as she entered the cabin. "The Wandering Spirit!" cried out a small child, pointing at Sanja. Apparently she *had* made an impression on these people. "Hush, little one. Good spirit, forgive the child, he is young and foolish," the Earthmother said. "Many are," Sanja said. She felt the Path writhe, but its entrance was steady. All eyes were on her. Some had a look of confusion or disbelief. Others had hope. "What brings you to our gathering, gentle spirit?" asked the Earthmother. "I've come to like this world, and your people's art. I'd like to offer you a gift: your lives. I know how to escape the Blight." "A fine gift, but I cannot accept. My place is here," said the Earthmother, who knew the Wandering Spirit's gifts always came with a price. "I accept!" Doria said. He looked around the room. "We must survive, at any cost!" Eight more accepted her bargain. She left the cabin quickly, the path twisting and twitching constantly now. But the entrance was always in the same spot. Two trees, one leaning on the other. "You must follow my steps exactly and closely. If you wander off the Path, you will likely die," she informed her troupe of followers. Past the trees, the Path took a sharp left, over a muddy brook. The mud was a disturbing shade of brown-red. After the brook, up a short hill, under bowed branches and - no, it shifted - up a short hill, and around a square stone. Her sudden change in direction confused a child (the same who had spoken up earlier), and he went right instead of left. The boy disappeared into the brush. His mother screamed, and reached for the boy. Doria grabbed her arm. "He's gone! We have to follow the Wandering Spirit!" he shouted. Sanja paused. The path was about to shift again. It was bunching together behind them, a wave of energy rushing toward their location. "You must follow closely!" Sanja said. There was no time for more. There was no time for walking, either. She broke out into a run. Around the rock; into the hollow; climb the wa- no, straight ahead; take the left fork; keep left; straight across the bridge- no, scramble over rocks; duck under branches; brave the vines; and-! ___ ####**'\|Much Less Deep Space|\,** Sanja halted abruptly. The jungle had changed. Where once there were towering trees with lush undergrowth, there now was clear ground, fat trees, and a low overhanging canopy. They'd made it. "Why are we stopping?" Doria asked. "We're here," Sanja said. "The trees - I've never been in this part of the jungle," someone said. "The jungle feels wrong. It's too fast here." The mother was still bawling. Sanja was half-surprised she hadn't begged to go back. Not that they could - the Path had retreated from the planet, probably just in time, too. "I've given you nine lives. Shall you give me nine in return?" Sanja asked. "There are only eight of us, you-" Doria covered the mother's mouth before she could insult the Wandering Spirit. "True. You owe me a life then, in addition to your own." Sanja adjusted her glamour to a more Fairy standard. Much less ugly. The Joraga recoiled. "There's no need to kill us, gentle spirit," Doria protested. "Kill you? I hadn't thought of that. Ooh, I do like it. Although... hmmm. Very well, you eight shall be my servants. But you still owe me the life of another of my choosing." "Of course," Doria said. The mother was tensing up again. All the Joraga were. Doria looked meaningfully in Sanja's direction, clearly indicating that this wasn't the time to talk about this. "Good," Sanja said. "Come along then, we've much traveling to do before we reach the start of our Path!" And she flounced on ahead, the last Joraga following.

Oh, I hadn't realized that time travel was against the rules. I wasn't thinking backwards; only forwards. More time dilation than anything else, and even then not a constant, predictable dilation. Mostly just an excuse to have fairies living for extravagant lengths of time. Well, really just to add another element of proper "Land of Faerie" to the faction. Fairy Tales always seem to mention how an hour in Faerie lasted three years, or something.