Hope's Haven ~ A little taste of Gallia

[Malaclypse 666]

Message to: Skye, c/o Hope's Haven
Comm ID: Sancho_Panzo

Skye,

I know, I know, this whole "re-balancin'" thing is takin' a lot of me time of late.

..and of a truth, it may be takin' more time than I figgered. Belfast 'n Hope's be a long way from where I am now.. (which I can't say over the Squawkie..).

So, if'n I finally get back to find me bags in the hallway outside our suite, I'll understand, Lass...

..now if ye had that wee Runabout, and could learn ta fly.....
...no, there'd still be great gulfs between us.

I wish ye health 'n safety, 'n continued fortune wi' yer endeavors at Hope's. (She's all yours.. signed all the papers afore I left on this journey.)

And who knows, when the furor is over, ye might be buyin' ol' Sancho a drink or two when ye least expect it.

Yer still in me heart, Lass,
Sancho

---

[Malaclypse 666]

Message to: Skyedaughter
Comm ID: Sancho

...are ye there, Lass? pick up!! Or at least one o' ye wenches monitorin' the Comms. This be Sancho callin', 'n nervous as an undead soul can be!

I be seein' on me Navs that you've had lots o' visitors in Newcastle, especially those poofs from the SF.. I'm just hopin' that ye all be safe there in Belfast..

I may not be on yer bloody VIP list any more, Skye, but 't least ye could have the courtesy to let ol' Sancho know ye be a'right.

Have been helpin' te Crew shore up a new alternate HQ at IlFnord. But, if'n the old merde hits the rotary there at Belfast, just squawk long 'n loud, and I'll find the worthies that can be there w' me within the hour!

'n if that Methos still be lolligaggin' there, get his lazy arse outta the down, 'n tell him ta report to Sancho or Davey posthaste!

Worryin' done, for the moment,
Sancho

---

[Fellow Hoodlum]

Skye me dear, been a little muddled round here for a week or two, everyone is just catching
their breath and getting back into their new craft. Me ships a little smaller than before, so I
shan't be needing the valet parking service.
I was in the vicinity so I thought I'd pop me face in to see whats what in Belfast.
I'll have the usual, and a portion of the stew if possible. Been hard work for a while. Just need
to put me feet up for an hour or two.
Tis still the best bar in the sector ...

Fin

---

Some say he is a proud member of: "The most paranoid group of people in the Community."

[Malaclypse 666]

Message to: Skydaughter
Comm ID: [IND]Daddy_Warbucks

Ms. Skye,

I have heard wonderful things about your establishment, and also about your immense talents as a songwriter and performer.

If you are considering a "change of venue", I would be delighted to offer you a position in management aboard the Daddy W. We are a fledgling operation, offering deluxe passenger accomodations, exquisite cuisine, and the best in entertainment. I would also pay handsomely for the occassional performance for our guests.

Please advise if this offer may be of interest.

Fond regards,
Reginald "Pops" Waverly
Owner and Captain, [IND]Daddy_Warbucks

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[Malaclypse 666]

"Merry! The Gaming Parlor looks fabulous! Tastefully decorated yet discrete. I hope those Spa & Cruise lackeys didn't give you any trouble."

"Oh, Not at all, Mr. Waverly! They kept running about and mumbling about a rather large bonus. I take it that be your doin'?"

"Just a little extra incentive, Lass. I've contacted the croupiers and dealers from my previous establishment, and they should be arriving shortly. Make sure they get decent accomodations, will you? You'll also be seeing some new ads for "Hope's". I've enlisted Lawrence, Curlieu, and Morenci as our agency, and we should be seeing a marketing blitz to rival even those Cryer boys and their "E.D." palliative "Stick-em-up"."

"Tee Hee, Mr. Waverly. I never did believe that a man could take a wee pill and become a stallion. It's there, or it ain't, I be thinkin'."

"That may be, young Merry. You've done a piece of work here that your Mistress Skye would be proud of! We're still searching dilligently for word of her, but nothing so far. We will persevere. Until we do, I would like you to continue handling the day-to-day details around here. And call me "Pops". I don't really consider myself your employer... I'm just filling in until your Skyedaughter returns. But in the meantime, I see no reason we shouldn't rehabilitate this rather empty establishment into a wee cash cow, em?"

"The staff is ready and waiting Mr. W.... err, Pops." Drinks, victuals and games of chance it will be. If only Skye were here to kick us off with one of her beautiful tunes...."

---

[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!"

[Malaclypse 666]

:::The doors have swung silently shut behind her, and Skye moves over to lean against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest and looking around the room. She wonders how long it will take someone to realize who she is:::

[snapback]44163[/snapback]

:: Someone has indeed noticed, but without initial comprehension. Merry is stacking clean glassware behind the long silver bar, and continues to stare at the oddly dressed person leaning defiantly against the wall.

With a gasp, which she quickly stifles with a delicate hand, Merry finally recognizes the woman as her former employer and mentor. But so taken aback by Skye's transformation, she stands motionless and mute. Finally, she carefully backs into the room behind the bar, and turns to a communicator which has been programmed with some very odd and little-known frequencies. She begins typing, as her look of astonished bewilderment turns to a smile of relief, and a bit of mischief. ::
____________________

In a remote corner of the Dublin system, a pirate with rather unsavory connections reads the message he just received. He reads again, then slowly shakes his head in wonder, and smiles. His ship will not be taking him to Belfast any time soon. It is severely damaged and weaponless from an engagement above Cambridge the day before. But, there is time...
_____________________

On a plantation veranda in the foothills of Gran Canaria, a rocker rocks, empty, as if occupied by a ghost. The previous occupant can be seen running down the path towards the spaceport, furiously shouting instructions into a handheld communicator.
_____________________

And on a certain flagship moored at Amerigo Base, the captain now knows the origin of a previous mysterious communication. He is also smiling.
_____________________

---

[Malaclypse 666]

: Pops Waverly had made a wide detour from his usual trade route to visit one of his business investments on Belfast. He had not heard from the staff at Hopes Haven for some time, and the accountants were pestering him for the year-end figures for the Bed & Breakfast/Gaming Casino. Pops had an uneasy feeling as he approached the huge, carved, oaken doors of Hopes. He strained to pull open one of the heavy doors, noticing that the hydraulic assist seemed to be malfunctioning. He finally managed an opening large enough to squeeze through, only to stop dead still and stare aghast at his surroundings. :

My Goddess! What has happened to this place! Pops continued to stare at the empty establishment, the gaming tables covered, the long bar and dining tables deserted.

This is not a business.. its a bloody tomb! A monument to the departed.

*ooc *; (One last bump. Skyedaughter has disappeared. Sancho Panza has disappeared. Pops has many other interests and ventures to occupy his time. Live, or die. Your choice, Sirius.)

The Co-Author

[McNeo]

: Unbeknownst to "Pops" Waverly, a lone fighter had been shadowing him on his route, waiting for the right moment to strike the freighter. He had also screamed his fury at the control panel as "Pops" docked on Belfast. The fighter pilot, with insignia bearing "Helghast" had docked on the opposite side of the bar, from a wide angle to avoid being seen by "Pops", the engines were also on minimum power to make them as quite as possible.

When the Helghast man entered the back side of the building, he was greeted with cob webs from the odd spider that had taken up residence in the kitchen of what seemed to be a restaurant. Undetered, He proceeded to the door leading into the area where patrons would be served. Peering his head around the corner, at first he saw darkness. Then he saw a thin shaft of light come through the door, which had been opened. The character shadowing "Pops" peered from the kitchen and caught a glimpse of him before retreating his head into the safety of the darkness. As he was doing so, he slipped, and his head caught a metallic object as he stumbled to retain his balance....

[Malaclypse 666]

Pops heard a noise which appeared to emanate from a door off to the side of the long ornate bar. He recalled that this door led to the kitchen. No other noises followed, but Pops immediately moved out of the shaft of light which came through the large entrance door. He moved to the wall, and began to sidle cautiously towards the kitchen door, straining his ears for any other telltale clues.

Suddenly, Pops heard more sounds coming from the kitchen. First the sound of a metallic clang coupled with a dull thud, and then a groan, followed by the sound of something quite large hitting the floor. He quickly reached inside his coat for the small needler he carried in a shoulder rig; and began again to inch slowly along the wall.

Before he could move more than a few feet, the kitchen door swung outward into the dining area; and a small, disheveled young woman appeared, clutching a large heavy saucepan in both hands. Pops pointed the needler at the floor, and peered more closely at the frightened woman.

"Merry? Is that you, my child? What is happening?"

"Mr Waverly? Oh My Goddess! I was afraid there was another of those thugs trying to close me in before I could escape into the commons! I was in the kitchen making a sandwich, when I heard someone come in the back way from the Service corridor. He was dressed strangely, and smelled rather bad as well. I stayed in the shadows until he had passed, and noticed that he had a rather large, ugly weapon in his hand. Well, Mr. Waverly, I may be the only poor lass left here at Hope's, but I still feel a responsibility to protect the place. I grabbed this pan, and waited to see what his intentions were. When I saw this lout start to raise his weapon and point it into the dining room, I interceded. I just hope I haven't killed the bloke!"

"Merry, you may have saved my worthless life! Let's go see if our mystery guest is alive or dead. And, If alive, we shall truss him to the dice table. Perhaps we can entice him to tell us why he was preparing to ventilate my hide! Regardless of who he is, and what his intentions are, I doubt he will take kindly to the idea of having his eyeballs used for dice!"

"Oh, Master Waverly, you are a caution! I shall run for some rope while you drag him to the table."

"Call me Pops, my dear, and take your time. It appears that your choice of weapons was wise indeed. This blighter has a knot on his head the size of your wee fist! Bring a pitcher of water back as well, so that we may refresh our friend, and begin an inquiry as to his motives."

"As you wish, Master... eh.. Pops."

"And I shall also be interested, as will my accountants, as to what has happened to Ms. Skyedaughter and Squire Panza, and our little joint enterprise here. Is there any Sapphire left? I could use a drink!"

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