Name: Bartimus Fizzbang
Bartimus is an alien from a small planet near the Omicron system. This planet is made out of rubber and has lots of little earthquakes. His species is basically like a human, except backwards. This causes them to be rather widely disliked, especially at dinner parties, because their eating techniques are quite disgusting to watch. Bartimus usually takes his dinner in private.
Undaunted by the prejudices stacked against him, though, Bartimus set out at a young age to explore the galaxy. This wanderlust is an ancient tradition and custom of Bartimus's people, and in their native tongue it is pronounced "Homecoming". Seeking fun and excitement, Bartimus signed on with the Hitchhiker's Guide and has been roaming the galaxy for nearly 20 years.
When Bartimus walkes, he does so on two feet, like most humanoids do. This, however, is an extremely intricate learned behavior for Bartimus, as his people instinctively use their feet for such takes as manipulating tools, dialing phones, typing on keyboards, and doodling. A member of Bartimus's race walking upright is the equivalent of a clown walking about on his hands, and it takes many many years to master. It is this feature which makes Bartimus seem a little bit odd to most everyone he encounters, because he never really got the hang of walking right.
Bartimus takes comfort in the fact that if he ever loses his job as a Guide writer, he can always return to his homeworld and seek a living as a circus performer.
HHGTTG Mafia - CHARACTER THREAD
In this thread, you will post your character bios. For this game, the sky is the limit with regards to what kinds of characters you can create. All I ask is that you include enough detail and information about your character to make it easy to write them in to scenes when it comes their turn to be a victim or a killer.
Bios are due the 13th, roles will be distributed on the 14th, and killing will start on the 15th.
Jinheim
20 years ago
Blackrabbit
20 years ago
Name: Ammannakai Qixa Kannivoss
Race: Falneberan (half humanoid, half snake)
Home Planet: Falnebera
Occupation: Holo-Porn Coordinator
Ammannakai Qixa Kannivoss ('Qixa' to friends), was more than slightly irritated. Due to the fact that no one could leave the hotel, she was incredibly busy.
Qixa's title was, officially, Holo-Porn Coordinator. In the Holo-Porn industry, however, that was only a token title meaning 'general lackey and slave to the Holo-Porn Directors and Producers, who sometimes does a bit of Holo-Porn acting on the side.'
Since the hotel was suddenly full of hundreds of people who absolutely suddenly had nothing to do but watch Holo-Porn, Qixa was overwhelmed with requests for 'Vogon's Back Door 3' (though why anyone would request that... Qixa shuddered...), 'Debbie Does Uranus', and 'Iptherions Gone Wild.'
In a frenzy of activity, she spent most of the day setting up the individual Holo-Porn Projectors in each room whose occupant had put in a request. Then, down in the main Projection Center in the section of the hotel reserved for Management and Operations, she digitally sent each Holo-Porn to its pre-programmed Projector.
It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it.
Fortunately, once the setup was done, there was little to do except press the buttons at the right time, which gave Qixa the chance to work on her side job. She had been hired by The Hitchhiker's Guide to do a little part-time work, helping them convert the Guide to a massive Holo. She had done a fair bit of acting, and apparently someone at the Guide had thought it wouldn't do the ratings any harm to have the narrator of the Guide be a half-naked, bare-breasted, purple-haired snake woman with a sultry, husky voice.
In the dim light of the Projection Center, Qixa fluffed her purple hair, made sure it was artfully arranged over her shoulders but not obscuring her chest (every Falneberan woman took great pride in her breasts and it was widely agreed that Qixa's were particularly spectaculr, with their detailed tattooing of glowing purple and green vines and flowers). Then with the tiny recording unit supplied to her by the Guide, she carefully memorized each section and then said it aloud into the camera, making gestures at the plain wall behind her where they would later import Holo-images.
So it went through the night, and when morning came Qixa had done a substantial section of the first chapter of the Guide, and was good and ready to leave the Projection Center. Shutting everything down until the afternoon shift arrived, Qixa made her way into the common area of the hotel, grabbed a bit of breakfast, and looked around for something to do before grabbing a couple hours of sleep in the evening and returning to work that night.
Race: Falneberan (half humanoid, half snake)
Home Planet: Falnebera
Occupation: Holo-Porn Coordinator
Ammannakai Qixa Kannivoss ('Qixa' to friends), was more than slightly irritated. Due to the fact that no one could leave the hotel, she was incredibly busy.
Qixa's title was, officially, Holo-Porn Coordinator. In the Holo-Porn industry, however, that was only a token title meaning 'general lackey and slave to the Holo-Porn Directors and Producers, who sometimes does a bit of Holo-Porn acting on the side.'
Since the hotel was suddenly full of hundreds of people who absolutely suddenly had nothing to do but watch Holo-Porn, Qixa was overwhelmed with requests for 'Vogon's Back Door 3' (though why anyone would request that... Qixa shuddered...), 'Debbie Does Uranus', and 'Iptherions Gone Wild.'
In a frenzy of activity, she spent most of the day setting up the individual Holo-Porn Projectors in each room whose occupant had put in a request. Then, down in the main Projection Center in the section of the hotel reserved for Management and Operations, she digitally sent each Holo-Porn to its pre-programmed Projector.
It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it.
Fortunately, once the setup was done, there was little to do except press the buttons at the right time, which gave Qixa the chance to work on her side job. She had been hired by The Hitchhiker's Guide to do a little part-time work, helping them convert the Guide to a massive Holo. She had done a fair bit of acting, and apparently someone at the Guide had thought it wouldn't do the ratings any harm to have the narrator of the Guide be a half-naked, bare-breasted, purple-haired snake woman with a sultry, husky voice.
In the dim light of the Projection Center, Qixa fluffed her purple hair, made sure it was artfully arranged over her shoulders but not obscuring her chest (every Falneberan woman took great pride in her breasts and it was widely agreed that Qixa's were particularly spectaculr, with their detailed tattooing of glowing purple and green vines and flowers). Then with the tiny recording unit supplied to her by the Guide, she carefully memorized each section and then said it aloud into the camera, making gestures at the plain wall behind her where they would later import Holo-images.
So it went through the night, and when morning came Qixa had done a substantial section of the first chapter of the Guide, and was good and ready to leave the Projection Center. Shutting everything down until the afternoon shift arrived, Qixa made her way into the common area of the hotel, grabbed a bit of breakfast, and looked around for something to do before grabbing a couple hours of sleep in the evening and returning to work that night.
Mai
20 years ago
Name: Cindy Sinclair
Planet: Novitas IV
Race: Novian (humanoid)
Occupation: Employee for Secondary Temporary Assistance Newly Dedicated Interim Network or S.T.A.N.D. I.N.
Cindy was fresh recruit straight off the streets of Neo Novus, literally actually, the president of the company, Pollex Asinus, was driving to work in his super sleek Plaustrum 350 LE which had the nice leather interior ( unfortunately it didn't have a booster seat option ) when he hit the young woman crossing the street unable to see over the dash. The loud thump thump made him wonder if he had accidently blown a tire and Pollex was going to be very irate if that were the case. Jumping out of the car he ran around and checked each on in turn, only then noticing the blonde heap with skid marks down her back.
"Oh, well that's better." At least it wasn't his vehicle. Realizing that the woman might take offense as his having run her over, Pollex, being the humanitarian that he was, brought her into the office and handed her over to his secretary.
"Clean her up and put her to work."
The secretary, paused her long distance cross galaxy call to her Flanoobian boyfriend who had landed in yet another high security prison and was begging for the first born male child of rare Starkanian hornbill that they required as bail, to look at the new employee.
Reaching into a drawer filled with nearly useless office clutter, she pulled out a wet wipe, one of the rare useful inventions from some planet they had recently destroyed in the name of progress, and tossed it at the recent arrival.
"Here, use this, Your desk 1024, around the corner and to the right. The employee manual is in the top drawer and your benefits package is stapled to the back. Just fill out the little scratch card and see what you got. I hear some people find it entertaining. Anyway, welcome, lunch break is one hour and your first assignment will be given to you in..." She looked at her watch and then around the room, ah, there was the assignment aid down at cubicle 312. " 15 minutes. Best get going."
So, Cindy had limped gratefully to her desk which turned out to be quite a long way around the corner and to the right, and pulled out the employee hand book. Going straight to the benefits card, she began to scratch away excitedly. Cindy received full coverage for limb replacement in the case of swamp accidents and the unwanted hair removal package. The second one caused her to ponder...did it remove unwanted hair or was the package itself unwanted? Shrugging, Cindy placed the handbook in her purse and looked about the tiny cube. There wasn't much to see and so she'd given herself the complete grand tour, which included rummaging through the file cabinet and crawling under the desk, in under 10 minutes.
This allowed her to be sitting patiently at her desk when the aid arrived not long afterwards, 15 minutes from when the secretary had sent her to her desk to be exact. Looking over a cart filled to near over flowing with various colored sheets of paper, the aid pulled out one (seemingly at random, but in all actuality part of a very complex system taught at Galinius III's School for the Clerically Challenged ) and handed her the slip of paper.
You are to stand in for: Igna Stilus, Writer for Nebula Nebulous News who has booked vacation for this week despite the fact that her company wants her to go to the Hiltondorf Continental and cover the convention taking place there.
You are to report to the hotel at once and there you will find your press pass and other essentials. Mrs. Stilus's accommodations will be yours for the duration. You are expected to complete her news article on the hotel and turn it in to NNN by friday it should include interviews that you have colleced by annoying *ahem* questioning at least three employees and five guests about their experiences at the Hiltondorf.
Don't screw up!
- Pollex Asinus
So that is how Cindy found herself at the Hiltondorf with nearly no luggage, a notepad, and a silly hat with the word 'press' on it and her slip of paper assigning her to this post. She was eager to do a good job though and impress the new boss for his gracious humanitarian act of kindness in giving her an opportunity to show she was more than a lump in the road.
((OOC: The placeholder idea stuck with me...so basically she has the occupation of being an official placeholder ))
Planet: Novitas IV
Race: Novian (humanoid)
Occupation: Employee for Secondary Temporary Assistance Newly Dedicated Interim Network or S.T.A.N.D. I.N.
Cindy was fresh recruit straight off the streets of Neo Novus, literally actually, the president of the company, Pollex Asinus, was driving to work in his super sleek Plaustrum 350 LE which had the nice leather interior ( unfortunately it didn't have a booster seat option ) when he hit the young woman crossing the street unable to see over the dash. The loud thump thump made him wonder if he had accidently blown a tire and Pollex was going to be very irate if that were the case. Jumping out of the car he ran around and checked each on in turn, only then noticing the blonde heap with skid marks down her back.
"Oh, well that's better." At least it wasn't his vehicle. Realizing that the woman might take offense as his having run her over, Pollex, being the humanitarian that he was, brought her into the office and handed her over to his secretary.
"Clean her up and put her to work."
The secretary, paused her long distance cross galaxy call to her Flanoobian boyfriend who had landed in yet another high security prison and was begging for the first born male child of rare Starkanian hornbill that they required as bail, to look at the new employee.
Reaching into a drawer filled with nearly useless office clutter, she pulled out a wet wipe, one of the rare useful inventions from some planet they had recently destroyed in the name of progress, and tossed it at the recent arrival.
"Here, use this, Your desk 1024, around the corner and to the right. The employee manual is in the top drawer and your benefits package is stapled to the back. Just fill out the little scratch card and see what you got. I hear some people find it entertaining. Anyway, welcome, lunch break is one hour and your first assignment will be given to you in..." She looked at her watch and then around the room, ah, there was the assignment aid down at cubicle 312. " 15 minutes. Best get going."
So, Cindy had limped gratefully to her desk which turned out to be quite a long way around the corner and to the right, and pulled out the employee hand book. Going straight to the benefits card, she began to scratch away excitedly. Cindy received full coverage for limb replacement in the case of swamp accidents and the unwanted hair removal package. The second one caused her to ponder...did it remove unwanted hair or was the package itself unwanted? Shrugging, Cindy placed the handbook in her purse and looked about the tiny cube. There wasn't much to see and so she'd given herself the complete grand tour, which included rummaging through the file cabinet and crawling under the desk, in under 10 minutes.
This allowed her to be sitting patiently at her desk when the aid arrived not long afterwards, 15 minutes from when the secretary had sent her to her desk to be exact. Looking over a cart filled to near over flowing with various colored sheets of paper, the aid pulled out one (seemingly at random, but in all actuality part of a very complex system taught at Galinius III's School for the Clerically Challenged ) and handed her the slip of paper.
You are to stand in for: Igna Stilus, Writer for Nebula Nebulous News who has booked vacation for this week despite the fact that her company wants her to go to the Hiltondorf Continental and cover the convention taking place there.
You are to report to the hotel at once and there you will find your press pass and other essentials. Mrs. Stilus's accommodations will be yours for the duration. You are expected to complete her news article on the hotel and turn it in to NNN by friday it should include interviews that you have colleced by annoying *ahem* questioning at least three employees and five guests about their experiences at the Hiltondorf.
Don't screw up!
- Pollex Asinus
So that is how Cindy found herself at the Hiltondorf with nearly no luggage, a notepad, and a silly hat with the word 'press' on it and her slip of paper assigning her to this post. She was eager to do a good job though and impress the new boss for his gracious humanitarian act of kindness in giving her an opportunity to show she was more than a lump in the road.
((OOC: The placeholder idea stuck with me...so basically she has the occupation of being an official placeholder ))
Verileah
20 years ago
Name: Zem
Race: Mattress
Planet: Squornshellous Zeta
Zem the mattress flolloped along contentedly in the shallow end of the hotel swimming pool, occasionally blowing bubbles charmingly at passers by. It considered willoming out of the pool to have a friendly conversation with the other guests, but Zem only rarely found the energy for such tasks.
Zem was a high quality mattress with a floral print. Its friend, Zem, had a similar floral print, which is how they came to know each other, even though their names were both Zem, which would be confusing if not for the fact that all mattresses from Squornshellous Zeta were named Zem. Zem floopily hoped that Zem was happy back home, that it was not globbering overly much in the swamp. Zem wished it had a friend to vollue with here.
Race: Mattress
Planet: Squornshellous Zeta
Zem the mattress flolloped along contentedly in the shallow end of the hotel swimming pool, occasionally blowing bubbles charmingly at passers by. It considered willoming out of the pool to have a friendly conversation with the other guests, but Zem only rarely found the energy for such tasks.
Zem was a high quality mattress with a floral print. Its friend, Zem, had a similar floral print, which is how they came to know each other, even though their names were both Zem, which would be confusing if not for the fact that all mattresses from Squornshellous Zeta were named Zem. Zem floopily hoped that Zem was happy back home, that it was not globbering overly much in the swamp. Zem wished it had a friend to vollue with here.
Gilae
20 years ago
Name: Matilda
Race: N/A
Home Planet: N/A
Occupation: Domestic Engineer
Matilda felt satisfied. In fact she was so exceedingly satisfied she decided she'd express her satisfaction with a quiet moan.
Mmmmmmmm.
The major difference between a thing that might go wrong and a thing that cannot possibly go wrong is that when a thing that cannot possibly go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out to be impossible to get at or repair. Regardless of the obvious panic and despair many of the guests exhibited at the news that things had gone impossibly wrong, Matilda contendedly moved from room to room, happily changing sheets, shivering with delight as she scrubbed out showers, and bubbling with pleasure as she left new soap for each guest. No one could leave, and she couldn't be more excited about it.
Mmmmmmmm.
The Encyclopaedia Galactica describes a robot as a mechanical apparatus designed to do the work of a man.
The marketing division of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation describes a robot as "Your Plastic Pal Who's Fun To Be With."
The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy describes the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation as "a bunch of mindless jerks who'll be the first against the wall when the revolution comes." An edition of the Encyclopaedia Galactica that had the good fortune to fall through a time warp from a thousand years in the future defined the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation as "a bunch of mindless jerks who were the first against the wall when the revolution came."
The Sirius Cybernetics Corporation was also responsible for the existence of Matilda, a robot designed to be a domestic engineer who was also created with what is known as GPP, or Genuine People Personalities.
Though she had been used by multiple hotels and functions throughout the galaxy, she was delighted to be working at the Hiltondorf. She was extremely delighted that she would be able to assist at the 853rd Annual Transdimensional Travel Broker’s Convention. She was bubbling with delight that she would be able to serve so many wonderful travel brokers!
It was also with disgustingly pleased delight that she proceeded to scrub out a toilet in a room recently occupied by a Vogon.
Mmmmmmmmm.
Race: N/A
Home Planet: N/A
Occupation: Domestic Engineer
Matilda felt satisfied. In fact she was so exceedingly satisfied she decided she'd express her satisfaction with a quiet moan.
Mmmmmmmm.
The major difference between a thing that might go wrong and a thing that cannot possibly go wrong is that when a thing that cannot possibly go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out to be impossible to get at or repair. Regardless of the obvious panic and despair many of the guests exhibited at the news that things had gone impossibly wrong, Matilda contendedly moved from room to room, happily changing sheets, shivering with delight as she scrubbed out showers, and bubbling with pleasure as she left new soap for each guest. No one could leave, and she couldn't be more excited about it.
Mmmmmmmm.
The Encyclopaedia Galactica describes a robot as a mechanical apparatus designed to do the work of a man.
The marketing division of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation describes a robot as "Your Plastic Pal Who's Fun To Be With."
The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy describes the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation as "a bunch of mindless jerks who'll be the first against the wall when the revolution comes." An edition of the Encyclopaedia Galactica that had the good fortune to fall through a time warp from a thousand years in the future defined the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation as "a bunch of mindless jerks who were the first against the wall when the revolution came."
The Sirius Cybernetics Corporation was also responsible for the existence of Matilda, a robot designed to be a domestic engineer who was also created with what is known as GPP, or Genuine People Personalities.
Though she had been used by multiple hotels and functions throughout the galaxy, she was delighted to be working at the Hiltondorf. She was extremely delighted that she would be able to assist at the 853rd Annual Transdimensional Travel Broker’s Convention. She was bubbling with delight that she would be able to serve so many wonderful travel brokers!
It was also with disgustingly pleased delight that she proceeded to scrub out a toilet in a room recently occupied by a Vogon.
Mmmmmmmmm.
ROzbeans
20 years ago
Name: Roz Hartmann
Race: Brownie (human)
Home Planet: Previously Earth
Occupation: HHGTTG Tester
Roz took pride in her job. Being a tester was of course, a wee bit looked down upon, but she had a propensity for getting air, sea, space sick. So she was happy doing testing on the ground, granted the trip thru the drive thru caused her to vomit violently into a potted plant, which was where she was when all the commotion started.
She listened to the harrowed hotel proprietor declare they were stuck. Roz thought deeply.
'This is going to suck,' and then went off looking for another brownie.
Race: Brownie (human)
Home Planet: Previously Earth
Occupation: HHGTTG Tester
Roz took pride in her job. Being a tester was of course, a wee bit looked down upon, but she had a propensity for getting air, sea, space sick. So she was happy doing testing on the ground, granted the trip thru the drive thru caused her to vomit violently into a potted plant, which was where she was when all the commotion started.
She listened to the harrowed hotel proprietor declare they were stuck. Roz thought deeply.
'This is going to suck,' and then went off looking for another brownie.
m2
20 years ago
Name: <Shade of Arcturian Garbok Ears> "SAGE"
Race: Mooloovoo
Home Planet: Mooloo
Occupation: Transcendent Being
Most corporeals refer to me as Sage, which is no more a bastardization of my name than the full vocal translation "Shade of Arcturian Garbok Ears". I am one of the Mooloovoo, a race of hyper-intelligent shades of green. We are a slightly more private (and intelligent) race than our cousins from the same system - the Hooloovoo. We are a noble people; a great people; much more clever than the average being you're apt to meet. In short, more Green.
I keep a room at the Hiltondorf when I am in this section of the galaxy. I find this is increasingly often, thanks in large part to the delightful prism treatment the hotel offers. I have been enjoying my stay this past week while taking a brief sabbatical from my study of the incredible solar wind storms of the (recently renamed) tertiary Galumbits System.
I intended to depart today so as to avoid the incoming throng of (by many accounts disreputable) corporeals. Given the recent events however, I shall take the opportunity to finish my treatise on The Psychic Damage Inflicted on the Galaxy by the Ever-Offensive Hot Pink. There is also the new double refraction treatment... through smoked glass...
Race: Mooloovoo
Home Planet: Mooloo
Occupation: Transcendent Being
Most corporeals refer to me as Sage, which is no more a bastardization of my name than the full vocal translation "Shade of Arcturian Garbok Ears". I am one of the Mooloovoo, a race of hyper-intelligent shades of green. We are a slightly more private (and intelligent) race than our cousins from the same system - the Hooloovoo. We are a noble people; a great people; much more clever than the average being you're apt to meet. In short, more Green.
I keep a room at the Hiltondorf when I am in this section of the galaxy. I find this is increasingly often, thanks in large part to the delightful prism treatment the hotel offers. I have been enjoying my stay this past week while taking a brief sabbatical from my study of the incredible solar wind storms of the (recently renamed) tertiary Galumbits System.
I intended to depart today so as to avoid the incoming throng of (by many accounts disreputable) corporeals. Given the recent events however, I shall take the opportunity to finish my treatise on The Psychic Damage Inflicted on the Galaxy by the Ever-Offensive Hot Pink. There is also the new double refraction treatment... through smoked glass...
Aziyade
20 years ago
Name: Ethyl Murmur
Race: Guppy
Home planet: Fish Tank
Occupation: Travel writer for the gilled
Ethyl reflected, not for the first time, that her chosen career was not nearly as glamorous as one would assume. It certainly didn't hold up to her own expectations at any rate. Travel journalists, she discovered to her disappointment did not stay at fine hotels as a general rule, they stayed at the Super 8 motels. It was remarkable, she pondered, that even on worlds completely covered by water, the Super 8 still managed to be infested with some sort of cockroach.
That was why the offer to stay at the Hiltondorf was so tempting, the opportunity at last to stay in a fine hotel. The Hiltondorf advertised an entire sub-continental sized wing designed for Amphibian Life Forms (ALFs) and as a member of the gilled, she felt it was her duty to explore it and test its quality for her loyal readers. Also, she was lured, as were all the other free-loading travel journalists, by the promise of free food.
Unfortunately the food did completely live up to her expectations and was awful. She wondered what kind of species could invent Spam and marvelled at the rampant insanity, or perhaps it was stupidity, that enabled them to actually EAT the horrid concoction. On the other hand, the same species invented pepperoni pizza, which only went to prove the link between genius and insanity.
Ethyl was strangely fascinated by humans and was a card-carrying member of Preserve Earth, Terra Always (PETA), a inter-galactic organization that held rallies, sit-ins and petitioned to divert the new super galactic highway away from the small blue planet. Fortunately, the Gilled Guild was able to rescue most of the sentient ALFs from the planet and re-colonize them on a newly created water world.
Earth's literature was interesting, she was especially amused by the human vision of mermaids. Everyone knew, as she gazed at her reflection, that a humanoid bottom half and amphibian uppper half was much more efficient. And much more attractive, she thought as she fluffed her blue-green gills.
After her lunch of somewhat greasy pizza, Ethyl decided to start her exploration of the hotel's many water features by taking a refreshing dip in the inviting main swimming pool. She dove in, narrowly missing a gurgling mattress.
Race: Guppy
Home planet: Fish Tank
Occupation: Travel writer for the gilled
Ethyl reflected, not for the first time, that her chosen career was not nearly as glamorous as one would assume. It certainly didn't hold up to her own expectations at any rate. Travel journalists, she discovered to her disappointment did not stay at fine hotels as a general rule, they stayed at the Super 8 motels. It was remarkable, she pondered, that even on worlds completely covered by water, the Super 8 still managed to be infested with some sort of cockroach.
That was why the offer to stay at the Hiltondorf was so tempting, the opportunity at last to stay in a fine hotel. The Hiltondorf advertised an entire sub-continental sized wing designed for Amphibian Life Forms (ALFs) and as a member of the gilled, she felt it was her duty to explore it and test its quality for her loyal readers. Also, she was lured, as were all the other free-loading travel journalists, by the promise of free food.
Unfortunately the food did completely live up to her expectations and was awful. She wondered what kind of species could invent Spam and marvelled at the rampant insanity, or perhaps it was stupidity, that enabled them to actually EAT the horrid concoction. On the other hand, the same species invented pepperoni pizza, which only went to prove the link between genius and insanity.
Ethyl was strangely fascinated by humans and was a card-carrying member of Preserve Earth, Terra Always (PETA), a inter-galactic organization that held rallies, sit-ins and petitioned to divert the new super galactic highway away from the small blue planet. Fortunately, the Gilled Guild was able to rescue most of the sentient ALFs from the planet and re-colonize them on a newly created water world.
Earth's literature was interesting, she was especially amused by the human vision of mermaids. Everyone knew, as she gazed at her reflection, that a humanoid bottom half and amphibian uppper half was much more efficient. And much more attractive, she thought as she fluffed her blue-green gills.
After her lunch of somewhat greasy pizza, Ethyl decided to start her exploration of the hotel's many water features by taking a refreshing dip in the inviting main swimming pool. She dove in, narrowly missing a gurgling mattress.
Dia
20 years ago
Name: Leak Mcdrip
Race:Bio - Organic Oozing Green Excrement Riffraff AKA: Booger
Planet: Snot
Occupation: Review Columnist
Leak sighed heavily and rested his green gelatinous head on a conjured up mucus arm. Already the event was getting off to a wrong start!
Leak jotted down some notes of the current annoyance in his legal pad of paper that naturally was covered in goo.
*Valets take off sending the annual bash into a frenzy.
He did not care about the space ships being gone at the moment. His NOSTRIL and by NOSTRIL we mean Nasty Object Snot Translocator Relief Interdementional Lift, would return to him on it's own, when he was ready. He had no worries about being shut up in a 9 star hotel.
The amoeba grumpily demanded to the crowd that the dinner be served so that he, Leak McDrip, could proceed in his reviewing.
Race:Bio - Organic Oozing Green Excrement Riffraff AKA: Booger
Planet: Snot
Occupation: Review Columnist
Leak sighed heavily and rested his green gelatinous head on a conjured up mucus arm. Already the event was getting off to a wrong start!
Leak jotted down some notes of the current annoyance in his legal pad of paper that naturally was covered in goo.
*Valets take off sending the annual bash into a frenzy.
He did not care about the space ships being gone at the moment. His NOSTRIL and by NOSTRIL we mean Nasty Object Snot Translocator Relief Interdementional Lift, would return to him on it's own, when he was ready. He had no worries about being shut up in a 9 star hotel.
The amoeba grumpily demanded to the crowd that the dinner be served so that he, Leak McDrip, could proceed in his reviewing.
Aniyah
20 years ago
Name: Aniyah Starflow
Occupation: Private Investigator
Aniyah was looking forward to having a bit of time off after all the recent assignments she had been working through. The last communication from her boss, while terse, gave her permission to take off as much time as she liked. She earned it.
Working for Prime Investigations was truly a blessing in disguise. Mr. Prime was a kind and generous employer, albeit a bit eccentric, and left Aniyah to her own devices much of the time. She hadn't ever met Mr. Prime, but great technology allowed them to stay in virtual consistent contact.
Claiming no planet as home, she wandered from here to there and worked most of the time. Expenses were mostly paid, except for times like this when she was off --- few and far between --- and a hotel was home enough.
Vacation could be fun.
Occupation: Private Investigator
Aniyah was looking forward to having a bit of time off after all the recent assignments she had been working through. The last communication from her boss, while terse, gave her permission to take off as much time as she liked. She earned it.
Working for Prime Investigations was truly a blessing in disguise. Mr. Prime was a kind and generous employer, albeit a bit eccentric, and left Aniyah to her own devices much of the time. She hadn't ever met Mr. Prime, but great technology allowed them to stay in virtual consistent contact.
Claiming no planet as home, she wandered from here to there and worked most of the time. Expenses were mostly paid, except for times like this when she was off --- few and far between --- and a hotel was home enough.
Vacation could be fun.
Merreck
20 years ago
Name: Penelope Fairfax
Race: Human
Home Planet: Earth
Occupation: Assistant Manager of Starship Enterprise
Penelope left earth 3 years ago in search of bigger and better. Where she found herself now wasn’t much different then her life back on Earth. Although working for and living on the premises of The Hiltondorf Continental did have its interesting moments.
Penelope had been working for Starship Enterprise, The Hiltondorf Continentals own Rent-A-Ship company, for the past 2 years. It was only 3 days ago that she was made an assistant manager, and her boss, and only other co-worker, declared she was going on vacation. Here she was, first week in her new position, the week of the 853rd Annual Transdimentional Travel Brokers Convention, and she would be working alone.
She just got word of the missing valet staff when the Hiltondorf’s manager announced that everyone would be stuck here.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,†Penelope thought to herself.
She got up from her chair and walked over the row of filing cabinets along the back office wall. She opened up the cabinet labeled “Should the valet staff suddenly go missing,†reached in, and a few minutes later emerged with an armful of legal forms. Luckily they ran a very tight ship at Starship Enterprise. All rentals were not only stored in their computer, but where also in print.
Penelope placed the paperwork on her desk, sat back down, and took a long sip of her coffee. “It’s going to take me all night to finish filling out these forms. I hope I get my overtime pay.â€Â
Race: Human
Home Planet: Earth
Occupation: Assistant Manager of Starship Enterprise
Penelope left earth 3 years ago in search of bigger and better. Where she found herself now wasn’t much different then her life back on Earth. Although working for and living on the premises of The Hiltondorf Continental did have its interesting moments.
Penelope had been working for Starship Enterprise, The Hiltondorf Continentals own Rent-A-Ship company, for the past 2 years. It was only 3 days ago that she was made an assistant manager, and her boss, and only other co-worker, declared she was going on vacation. Here she was, first week in her new position, the week of the 853rd Annual Transdimentional Travel Brokers Convention, and she would be working alone.
She just got word of the missing valet staff when the Hiltondorf’s manager announced that everyone would be stuck here.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,†Penelope thought to herself.
She got up from her chair and walked over the row of filing cabinets along the back office wall. She opened up the cabinet labeled “Should the valet staff suddenly go missing,†reached in, and a few minutes later emerged with an armful of legal forms. Luckily they ran a very tight ship at Starship Enterprise. All rentals were not only stored in their computer, but where also in print.
Penelope placed the paperwork on her desk, sat back down, and took a long sip of her coffee. “It’s going to take me all night to finish filling out these forms. I hope I get my overtime pay.â€Â
Morcalivan
20 years ago
Name: Zipper
Race: Rodent
Home Planet: Investatia
Occupation: Hotel Vermin
Free food. Free food. Free food.
Zipper zipped through the well travelled tunnel, poking a nose out into the corridor to check for feet. Or feet accompanied by a broom, that was the worst. He had seen many a brave brother be helped along to the After with a bone crushing squelch.
The coast was clear for the time being, but he knew it wouldn't remain so for long. News about the sudden influx of guests being trapped here travelled fast, even in rodent circles. Who didn't love free food? Granted, to his kind all food were free, but it was Zipper's experience that when the uprights received it for free, they tended to drop half of it before it even touched their lips. Which was good, who knew where a human's mouth had been last?
He scrambled out of the rat hole, front feet sinking into the plush carpet in the hallway. Now this was the life! They had really done well for themselves ever since his great grand rat had stowed away on some travellers' ride when they accidentally pit stopped on Investatia and couldn't high tail it out of there and away from the overly friendly locals fast enough.
Posh home, nice decorations and take away around nearly every corner. Sure, the lighting left a lot to be desired, but there were enough dark pipes to crawl into if one knew where to look. As long as they stayed out of the parking area, it was quite a safe place to raise his family. Zipper was quite concerned about the needs of his family, one had to be when you were expecting a new litter. Soon he would have another set of four or thirteen mouths to feed. Not to mention he had to make sure the other five hundred and thirty eight siblings didn't pick on the newborns.
He raced down the corridor, heading straight for the room of the fat guy who never finished his whole croissant. Sure, having to wait and watch the upright get, you know, upright, was a horrifying experience, what with the pants slipping down every time he sat down or bended over, to reveal a tunnel so dark and hairy no self respecting rat would even consider it. Still, there was a delicious pastry with Zipper's name on it, just waiting to be snatched. If there was a side order of pancakes, he would consider taking some home to the family.
Zipper's little heart raced as if he had just spent two hours on the wheel. Something which his latest, Bays, was forever badgering him about getting on. It didn't seem to matter to her that the wheel in question was a homemade contraption of rusty metal suspended over a crack in the wall so deep even rat senses couldn't make out the bottom. If he stopped to think about it, perhaps it would be a good idea to worry about whether Bays loved him as much as she claimed to or was just hoping to cash in on his life insurance. He did have quite a sizable sum of yummy grain stashed away for a rainy day. It was perhaps a good idea to think of such things, but he had enough stress just making it back home alive, allowing paranoia to take hold would only cause his mycoplasma pulmonis to flare up. Besides, rats were known for having a short attention span and there were more important things to think about.
FREE FOOD!
(OOC: Here's hoping the sign-up's ARE still open. I'd ask you to be gentle with me, but that defeats the purpose, eh?)
Race: Rodent
Home Planet: Investatia
Occupation: Hotel Vermin
Free food. Free food. Free food.
Zipper zipped through the well travelled tunnel, poking a nose out into the corridor to check for feet. Or feet accompanied by a broom, that was the worst. He had seen many a brave brother be helped along to the After with a bone crushing squelch.
The coast was clear for the time being, but he knew it wouldn't remain so for long. News about the sudden influx of guests being trapped here travelled fast, even in rodent circles. Who didn't love free food? Granted, to his kind all food were free, but it was Zipper's experience that when the uprights received it for free, they tended to drop half of it before it even touched their lips. Which was good, who knew where a human's mouth had been last?
He scrambled out of the rat hole, front feet sinking into the plush carpet in the hallway. Now this was the life! They had really done well for themselves ever since his great grand rat had stowed away on some travellers' ride when they accidentally pit stopped on Investatia and couldn't high tail it out of there and away from the overly friendly locals fast enough.
Posh home, nice decorations and take away around nearly every corner. Sure, the lighting left a lot to be desired, but there were enough dark pipes to crawl into if one knew where to look. As long as they stayed out of the parking area, it was quite a safe place to raise his family. Zipper was quite concerned about the needs of his family, one had to be when you were expecting a new litter. Soon he would have another set of four or thirteen mouths to feed. Not to mention he had to make sure the other five hundred and thirty eight siblings didn't pick on the newborns.
He raced down the corridor, heading straight for the room of the fat guy who never finished his whole croissant. Sure, having to wait and watch the upright get, you know, upright, was a horrifying experience, what with the pants slipping down every time he sat down or bended over, to reveal a tunnel so dark and hairy no self respecting rat would even consider it. Still, there was a delicious pastry with Zipper's name on it, just waiting to be snatched. If there was a side order of pancakes, he would consider taking some home to the family.
Zipper's little heart raced as if he had just spent two hours on the wheel. Something which his latest, Bays, was forever badgering him about getting on. It didn't seem to matter to her that the wheel in question was a homemade contraption of rusty metal suspended over a crack in the wall so deep even rat senses couldn't make out the bottom. If he stopped to think about it, perhaps it would be a good idea to worry about whether Bays loved him as much as she claimed to or was just hoping to cash in on his life insurance. He did have quite a sizable sum of yummy grain stashed away for a rainy day. It was perhaps a good idea to think of such things, but he had enough stress just making it back home alive, allowing paranoia to take hold would only cause his mycoplasma pulmonis to flare up. Besides, rats were known for having a short attention span and there were more important things to think about.
FREE FOOD!
(OOC: Here's hoping the sign-up's ARE still open. I'd ask you to be gentle with me, but that defeats the purpose, eh?)
Pulvani
20 years ago
Name: Hilde G. Bingen
Race: Humdinger
Occupation: Staff, DYTCYE
Hilde allowed herself a moment to relax. She had been on the go every minute for the past week, it seemed like. All in preparation for some silly convention. Not that her boss knew there was actually a convention going on. Elsie Phard barely knew what day of the week it was, which is why it irked Hilde so much that Elsie was her superior.
Hilde worked at Dot Your Teas and Cross Your Eyes, a little shop located inside the Hiltendorf Continental. While they had begun business as a tea shop, eventually they expanded into a full-fledged tea shop, gift store, and hockey arena. The Hiltendorf was not especially happy of DYTCYE’s existence, but allowed them to stay for two reasons: One, nobody could remember who authorized DYTCYE to be created and as such did not know who to blame for their continued existence; and two, DYTCYE brought in money. The Hiltendorf happily scraped a few dollars off the top of every transaction. While it sometimes appeared on accounting statements as “rent†and sometimes as “partnership agreement†and still other times as “zamboni fees,†Hilde knew what it was and allowed it to happen so she could retain her job.
Hilde’s job was to run the store, although her official title when hired was “Tea Dotter.†She had never bothered to request a change in title because it required filling out a long and involved 357-page document. She had, however, given herself several raises when she had deemed it appropriate. She kept the books, and Elsie was never the wiser. All Elsie really wanted was to be the one to receive the compliments and lavish praise at the success of her little shop. She didn’t want to actually have to DO anything, so she left all of the details to Hilde, which suited Hilde just fine.
Hilde herself was an average humdinger, which is the race that resulted when humans and dongdings were placed on a remote planet several thousand space years ago. She had the characteristic large head and tiny body, making her look quite like a cartoon caricature sketch. Her bright blue hair was always done neatly and she dressed professionally, as she had a store to run.
Hilde watched a mattress squish wetly by in the hallway and made a mental note to request a carpet-drying machine. She couldn’t see if it had eyes, so she didn’t know whether or not she could give the mattress the secret 5% discount available only to those who could cross their eyes while ordering tea or making a purchase. She got out more tea dots and prepared to set up for the tea service in the convention room.
Race: Humdinger
Occupation: Staff, DYTCYE
Hilde allowed herself a moment to relax. She had been on the go every minute for the past week, it seemed like. All in preparation for some silly convention. Not that her boss knew there was actually a convention going on. Elsie Phard barely knew what day of the week it was, which is why it irked Hilde so much that Elsie was her superior.
Hilde worked at Dot Your Teas and Cross Your Eyes, a little shop located inside the Hiltendorf Continental. While they had begun business as a tea shop, eventually they expanded into a full-fledged tea shop, gift store, and hockey arena. The Hiltendorf was not especially happy of DYTCYE’s existence, but allowed them to stay for two reasons: One, nobody could remember who authorized DYTCYE to be created and as such did not know who to blame for their continued existence; and two, DYTCYE brought in money. The Hiltendorf happily scraped a few dollars off the top of every transaction. While it sometimes appeared on accounting statements as “rent†and sometimes as “partnership agreement†and still other times as “zamboni fees,†Hilde knew what it was and allowed it to happen so she could retain her job.
Hilde’s job was to run the store, although her official title when hired was “Tea Dotter.†She had never bothered to request a change in title because it required filling out a long and involved 357-page document. She had, however, given herself several raises when she had deemed it appropriate. She kept the books, and Elsie was never the wiser. All Elsie really wanted was to be the one to receive the compliments and lavish praise at the success of her little shop. She didn’t want to actually have to DO anything, so she left all of the details to Hilde, which suited Hilde just fine.
Hilde herself was an average humdinger, which is the race that resulted when humans and dongdings were placed on a remote planet several thousand space years ago. She had the characteristic large head and tiny body, making her look quite like a cartoon caricature sketch. Her bright blue hair was always done neatly and she dressed professionally, as she had a store to run.
Hilde watched a mattress squish wetly by in the hallway and made a mental note to request a carpet-drying machine. She couldn’t see if it had eyes, so she didn’t know whether or not she could give the mattress the secret 5% discount available only to those who could cross their eyes while ordering tea or making a purchase. She got out more tea dots and prepared to set up for the tea service in the convention room.
Jinheim
20 years ago
Alright, we are good to go. If you still have a placeholder in, you need to get it finished asap because as soon as I wake up in the morning I am going to start assigning roles. If you aren't done by that time then you are going to have to sit this one out.
Briare
20 years ago
*eyes the person who deleted her place holder
Name: Jax Copywrite
Race: Turnobian (humanoid accept for the blue skin)
Home Planet: Turnobia
Occupation: Writer/ Author
Jax is always looking for new things to write about and is always searching for his next book topic. He tends to like drama, romance to his mothers dismay. She wanted him to be a mystery author like herself. He comes from Turnobia a standard humanoid race but with blue skin and yellow eyes. Most Turnobia's are authors, archivists, journalists, editors, publishers, in to some form of writing. It is their trademark you could say. Jax's father was a very well known publisher everywhere.
Most of his race prefers not to travel but he is not typical. Jax goes anywhere a story leads and prefers to be 'in the thick of things'.
Name: Jax Copywrite
Race: Turnobian (humanoid accept for the blue skin)
Home Planet: Turnobia
Occupation: Writer/ Author
Jax is always looking for new things to write about and is always searching for his next book topic. He tends to like drama, romance to his mothers dismay. She wanted him to be a mystery author like herself. He comes from Turnobia a standard humanoid race but with blue skin and yellow eyes. Most Turnobia's are authors, archivists, journalists, editors, publishers, in to some form of writing. It is their trademark you could say. Jax's father was a very well known publisher everywhere.
Most of his race prefers not to travel but he is not typical. Jax goes anywhere a story leads and prefers to be 'in the thick of things'.
karubi
20 years ago
is it to late for me to play? this shit looks interesting
Geeii
20 years ago
Benjamin Wayne sighed as he shuffled the papers on his desk, attempting to make the clutter of his cubicle resemble some uniqueness. You see, Ben (as his friends called him, when they used their telephones), worked at probably the most extraordinary ordinary job on Earth. And the trouble with the manner wasn't the fact that he held a normal job. No, he didn't mind that, though he had gone to school for 4 years after the public school system had labeled him a 'graduate', he held nearly the same position as his friends who had spent time having fun during those years of their lives.
Sure, his cubicle was a little bit closer to the window and his business card had 'Project Manager' on it somewhere below his name (which, one might recognize wasn't all that spectacular) and above a seven digit phone number that really didn't ring any phones anywhere. No, his number directed the person on the end of the line to a message service with a sultry female voice that indicated a 'Benjamin Wayne' was out of the office or assisting someone else. Both of these were lies of course, he just wasn't important enough to talk to someone himself, he had a robot do it for him.
But, his problem didn't deal with the sultry voice or lack of a phone on his desk. It didn't deal with the single bedroom apartment he went home to after a long day of shuffling papers and the like, pretending to be doing something more then all the other paper-shufflers on his floor; though the apartment was one of two hundred and two exactly like it (even the views were the same, for 4 larger apartment buildings surrounded his out-dated and remarkably unremarkable complex).
His problem, the toil of his long and boring life, was the fact he was single. And that just wouldn't do. But, he couldn't impress women with his job, for it was far too average. His home, although nice enough for him, was no different then the 197 other tenants homes of his building save the numbers and letters that marked each apartment as different.
His friends assured him that outside his world of normality lay a paradise with single women that flocked like the salmon that travelled upstream during their migration periods (which, secretly knew of the world's scheduled demise but also grudgingly respected the pragamtism of its destruction). But, the solution to his problem seemed to be a problem in and of itself. This paradise lay in the nightclubs of his city and, unfortunatly for Mr. Wayne, a prerequisite of attending these dreamworlds was something that Benjamin lacked entirely: Rhythm.
Fortunatly for readers of this account of events, Benjamin Wayne dies with the destruction of Earth.
Across the Galaxy, however, another man that resembled a human not too unlike Ben in that there was a problem in his social life. However, his social life consisted of accounting and, most recently, writing Atlases. You see, the people of his planet held professions that most other sentient lifeforms equated to entertainment and this planets recreation consisted of the professions of other worlds. Danibot Moonwalkerson (Dan for short) followed in his families' tradition and danced for a living, focusing on a style characterized by its' mechanical movements.
So, Dan set out on an adventure to seek to learn to become better at writing Atlases, which was all the rage amoungst his friends currently. Luckily for him, there was a convention only two star-systems away and the Hitchhikers Guide, the most published work of literature in history, hired him as a temporary writer. He planned to focus on the unique climate controlled hotel the Convention maintained and the staff of the Guide hoped for him to entertain them. It was a win-win situation and so, he didn't even ask for payment (This was his dream, he had always wanted to visit a Convention of this maginitude of unexcitement.)
As he shouldered his small pack, moving in his normal mechanical fashion and, occassionally, pressing imaginary buttons on his body to move other body parts, his green e yes shined with excitement and his slightly messy brown hair rustled just slightly from the breeze created somewhere in the massive complex by a man who's job (lucky him) was to regulate the hotels climate.
Character Name: Danibot Moonwalkerson (Dan)
Age: 24
Profession: Moonwalker and 'Robot' Dancer
Sure, his cubicle was a little bit closer to the window and his business card had 'Project Manager' on it somewhere below his name (which, one might recognize wasn't all that spectacular) and above a seven digit phone number that really didn't ring any phones anywhere. No, his number directed the person on the end of the line to a message service with a sultry female voice that indicated a 'Benjamin Wayne' was out of the office or assisting someone else. Both of these were lies of course, he just wasn't important enough to talk to someone himself, he had a robot do it for him.
But, his problem didn't deal with the sultry voice or lack of a phone on his desk. It didn't deal with the single bedroom apartment he went home to after a long day of shuffling papers and the like, pretending to be doing something more then all the other paper-shufflers on his floor; though the apartment was one of two hundred and two exactly like it (even the views were the same, for 4 larger apartment buildings surrounded his out-dated and remarkably unremarkable complex).
His problem, the toil of his long and boring life, was the fact he was single. And that just wouldn't do. But, he couldn't impress women with his job, for it was far too average. His home, although nice enough for him, was no different then the 197 other tenants homes of his building save the numbers and letters that marked each apartment as different.
His friends assured him that outside his world of normality lay a paradise with single women that flocked like the salmon that travelled upstream during their migration periods (which, secretly knew of the world's scheduled demise but also grudgingly respected the pragamtism of its destruction). But, the solution to his problem seemed to be a problem in and of itself. This paradise lay in the nightclubs of his city and, unfortunatly for Mr. Wayne, a prerequisite of attending these dreamworlds was something that Benjamin lacked entirely: Rhythm.
Fortunatly for readers of this account of events, Benjamin Wayne dies with the destruction of Earth.
Across the Galaxy, however, another man that resembled a human not too unlike Ben in that there was a problem in his social life. However, his social life consisted of accounting and, most recently, writing Atlases. You see, the people of his planet held professions that most other sentient lifeforms equated to entertainment and this planets recreation consisted of the professions of other worlds. Danibot Moonwalkerson (Dan for short) followed in his families' tradition and danced for a living, focusing on a style characterized by its' mechanical movements.
So, Dan set out on an adventure to seek to learn to become better at writing Atlases, which was all the rage amoungst his friends currently. Luckily for him, there was a convention only two star-systems away and the Hitchhikers Guide, the most published work of literature in history, hired him as a temporary writer. He planned to focus on the unique climate controlled hotel the Convention maintained and the staff of the Guide hoped for him to entertain them. It was a win-win situation and so, he didn't even ask for payment (This was his dream, he had always wanted to visit a Convention of this maginitude of unexcitement.)
As he shouldered his small pack, moving in his normal mechanical fashion and, occassionally, pressing imaginary buttons on his body to move other body parts, his green e yes shined with excitement and his slightly messy brown hair rustled just slightly from the breeze created somewhere in the massive complex by a man who's job (lucky him) was to regulate the hotels climate.
Character Name: Danibot Moonwalkerson (Dan)
Age: 24
Profession: Moonwalker and 'Robot' Dancer