Hope's Haven ~ A little taste of Gallia

[Malaclypse 666]

:::Merry walks back over to Waverly's table, his favorite brew in her hand. She hands the glass to him, turns a chair around and sits down astradle the seat:::

"Hey, Waverly, how ye be? Have any idea what that thing that just happened was? :::she leans her head on the top of the chair for a moment, then pops up again:::

"I know Skye'd be right pleased at ye fer looking over Hope's Haven. Geeze, first Skye goes missin' and then this wierd thing happens. Ye think there's any connection?"

[snapback]42708[/snapback]

*ooc* (Time warp indeed. snort. Can i pull this one off?) *eoc*

"Merry, my dear Lass! You're still suffering the after-effects of what has come to be known as the "Big Sleep". Teams of scientists from all over the sector have joined to find an explanation, but nothing seems to fit.

"In fact, for some strange reason, Belfast Station seems to be caught in some sort of lingering eddy effect! I hate to say, but your mistress Skye has been gone for nigh on a month now.. from just after the Big Sleep. But it appears that you and every other person on the station are perceiving that it happened just recently. i will have to write this up for the journals!"

"A month!", Merry wailed. "Our beloved Skye gone an entire month with nary a word?? Oh, Mr. Waverly! I fear the worst!"

"Hush, child." said Pops. "I for one have not given up hope on your mistress. Why, she was acting a bit secretive and withdrawn even before that mysterious event. Are they connected? I cannot see how, but i will not disregard the possiblility.

"I will stay on a day or so, until you and the staff regain your "sea legs', Merry. I just finished up a rather dismal transaction involving some over-priced and undeliverable Niobium, and I need a break from the tedium of trading. Would you see that my room is preapared?"

"It would be me honor, Mr. Wav.... err... Pops. And I'm pleased that you like the new gambling parlor. We all contributed our ideas to make it an enticing feature of Hope's. And, sure as begorrah, your ads have been filling the rooms again. Ye be a saint!"

"Ha, Merry, my sweet innocent! A saint to the tune of 10% of the net after expenses.. Enough to allow me pursuit of some other ventures of a "faith-based" nature. Let's drink to a full house!"