ALL righty then, I can work with this.
Mwhahahaha *ahem*
***
I groaned and rolled (literally) out of bed. My own fault I suppose for staying out late with the other Watch fen.
The Watch were good lads and lasses for the most part. They, like most fen, took their faction seriously. Late nights at the Broken Drum or some such were common, especially since some of them literally did hire themselves out as Watchmen, running security or working as private eyes. Nothing too rough, for the most part, but everyone likes to relax after a hard day of work.
But ye gods, the *hangovers*. I mean, I don't overindulge as habit, because the last thing anyone needs is a fen like me getting drunk and acting the ass. But when you've got a barkeep who's idea of a fun time is creatching Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters, REAL ones, out of a biomodded mixer...
I eyed the coffee maker from the floor. Well, espresso maker. It was a beat to hell thing I got from an old job once, but it did the trick. Hell, given the proclivity of some of Ptchika's crew's for caffeine, we even had fresh beans around usually. I vaulted myself up and dragged myself to the little machine, prepping the grounds and groaning as the delicious smell of coffee drifted through the cabin.
"There has got to be...got to be a better way of dealing with this. Espresso and raw eggs just don't cut it when dealing with Gargle blasters." I slurped down the black liquid when it was done. "Ye gods...hmm..."
Perhaps I should be a little more careful with my ideas. I've been given funny looks before when I ever so innocently ask for advice from KJ or Mal. This one was tamer then most. After all, what better way to cure a hangover resulting from a PG then biomodded coffee? And I wasn't thinking throwing some guacamole into the mix, no way.
I tapped my fingers, then tapped out a email. Finding plants, or seeds, might be tricking...heaven knew getting 'wavium wouldn't be a problem either. I hit enter and then waited for the shit to hit the fan.
***
"B..."
"Yiiiis?"
"What's that?" I glanced at Kat.
"It's a seedling."
"Of what?"
"Coffee tree. Beans. I'm not sure how it grows yet." I said cheerfully, packing, ah, fertilizer into the soil. Kat pinched the bridge of her nose and wandered off, muttering something about me being a crazy woman, and I continued to pack, very very carefully, a very small amount of 'wavium treated fertilizer into the pot. This was yet another project of mine, joining the two or three already in progress. I wasn't ready to open up shop yet, but I had wood treating for the cricket bat, and I still needed some special metal for my signature item...
***
I don't think Mal was...pleased with my shouts the next morning. I woke up in a tangle of plant life and coffee beans. Seems the three small pots I'd planted had mutated quickly, even overnight, and they were already blooming. Gorram handwavium...I plea bargained my way out, carefully sealed of the clippings, and kept a watchful eye on the now lush bean plants. My cabin was crowded, but we were making landfall in a couple days and, well, I'd see about either harvesting these bastards and properly processing the beans. No doubt someone would know how to.
***
Here we were, Phobos. I eyed the coffee plants. Sure enough, they'd already started sprouting beans, cheerful little green pods ready to pop off the vine. I don't know if it was the fact that I knew they'd been grown with 'wavium, or the fact that the Watch (my cheerful, loving bunch of fen) didn't know yet what I had done, but the plants were vaguely menacing to my eyes. I'm not a caffeine fiend, as previously stated, by some people out there...
I loaded the three plants, in their protective cases/ terrariums, onto a handy cart, or attempted to. I wanted to haul these things off the Ptchika, as per orders, and get them to a safe place where I could study them better and figure out a way to harvest and prep the beans properly. But yuck, the terrariums were *heavy*. I was half on and half off of the Ptchika's cargo bay ramp, struggling with the cases and praying I didn't spill them.
*Really* praying.
***
Okay, so I'm kinda planning on having the relevant person bump into me, or I can continue onwards. Feel free to jump in, Greenpeace. Or whoever. ^^
Mwhahahaha *ahem*
***
I groaned and rolled (literally) out of bed. My own fault I suppose for staying out late with the other Watch fen.
The Watch were good lads and lasses for the most part. They, like most fen, took their faction seriously. Late nights at the Broken Drum or some such were common, especially since some of them literally did hire themselves out as Watchmen, running security or working as private eyes. Nothing too rough, for the most part, but everyone likes to relax after a hard day of work.
But ye gods, the *hangovers*. I mean, I don't overindulge as habit, because the last thing anyone needs is a fen like me getting drunk and acting the ass. But when you've got a barkeep who's idea of a fun time is creatching Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters, REAL ones, out of a biomodded mixer...
I eyed the coffee maker from the floor. Well, espresso maker. It was a beat to hell thing I got from an old job once, but it did the trick. Hell, given the proclivity of some of Ptchika's crew's for caffeine, we even had fresh beans around usually. I vaulted myself up and dragged myself to the little machine, prepping the grounds and groaning as the delicious smell of coffee drifted through the cabin.
"There has got to be...got to be a better way of dealing with this. Espresso and raw eggs just don't cut it when dealing with Gargle blasters." I slurped down the black liquid when it was done. "Ye gods...hmm..."
Perhaps I should be a little more careful with my ideas. I've been given funny looks before when I ever so innocently ask for advice from KJ or Mal. This one was tamer then most. After all, what better way to cure a hangover resulting from a PG then biomodded coffee? And I wasn't thinking throwing some guacamole into the mix, no way.
I tapped my fingers, then tapped out a email. Finding plants, or seeds, might be tricking...heaven knew getting 'wavium wouldn't be a problem either. I hit enter and then waited for the shit to hit the fan.
***
"B..."
"Yiiiis?"
"What's that?" I glanced at Kat.
"It's a seedling."
"Of what?"
"Coffee tree. Beans. I'm not sure how it grows yet." I said cheerfully, packing, ah, fertilizer into the soil. Kat pinched the bridge of her nose and wandered off, muttering something about me being a crazy woman, and I continued to pack, very very carefully, a very small amount of 'wavium treated fertilizer into the pot. This was yet another project of mine, joining the two or three already in progress. I wasn't ready to open up shop yet, but I had wood treating for the cricket bat, and I still needed some special metal for my signature item...
***
I don't think Mal was...pleased with my shouts the next morning. I woke up in a tangle of plant life and coffee beans. Seems the three small pots I'd planted had mutated quickly, even overnight, and they were already blooming. Gorram handwavium...I plea bargained my way out, carefully sealed of the clippings, and kept a watchful eye on the now lush bean plants. My cabin was crowded, but we were making landfall in a couple days and, well, I'd see about either harvesting these bastards and properly processing the beans. No doubt someone would know how to.
***
Here we were, Phobos. I eyed the coffee plants. Sure enough, they'd already started sprouting beans, cheerful little green pods ready to pop off the vine. I don't know if it was the fact that I knew they'd been grown with 'wavium, or the fact that the Watch (my cheerful, loving bunch of fen) didn't know yet what I had done, but the plants were vaguely menacing to my eyes. I'm not a caffeine fiend, as previously stated, by some people out there...
I loaded the three plants, in their protective cases/ terrariums, onto a handy cart, or attempted to. I wanted to haul these things off the Ptchika, as per orders, and get them to a safe place where I could study them better and figure out a way to harvest and prep the beans properly. But yuck, the terrariums were *heavy*. I was half on and half off of the Ptchika's cargo bay ramp, struggling with the cases and praying I didn't spill them.
*Really* praying.
***
Okay, so I'm kinda planning on having the relevant person bump into me, or I can continue onwards. Feel free to jump in, Greenpeace. Or whoever. ^^