Topic: Frantic Fruitcake Fun?

Alysia Skye

Date: 2005-12-27 17:13 EST
An unseasonably warm and light rain misted the lake, dampening the stone entry to Alysia?s home with dappled spots of grey. The surrounding gardens, wilted from frost and ice, welcomed the false spring with a surge of vibrant green. Birds twittered in the trees, and a lanky kitten with a wildly lashing tail stalked them, apparently immune to the intermittent drips of rain. It was an idyllic scene, save for the enormous and festive 750 lb fruitcake tin parked on the steps before Dark Lake Manor.

The Fruitcake seemed to huddle under an overhang, fearfully avoiding the precipitation which could wreak havoc on its sugary, heavy constitution. As the temperature changed, and moisture condensed inside the tin, the fruitcake began to smell of dried and jellied fruits, brown sugar, and something unidentifiable. Although Jewell had not left it thus, somehow the tin had managed to wedge itself securely against the front doors of Alysia?s home. Perhaps a gust of wind, or a small earth tremor had moved it.

Regardless, it was there that the Priestess found the fruitcake, as she headed out toward evening to swim in the lake. The doors, she discovered, were stuck. Not locked, just seemingly barred from the outside.

Frustration led to irritation, which led inevitably to a burst of anger. A well-placed kick forced the door open and shoved the weighty cake enough for her to slip through the entry. She screeched in incoherent annoyance at the thing on her doorstep, then bent to examine the note on the tin.

?A prince under an evil spell?,? mused Alysia. ?Laser beams? Smells like that bakery Lucien used to go to.?

The priestess experimentally prodded the tin with her toe.

Alysia Skye

Date: 2005-12-27 17:14 EST
The fruitcake didn?t respond to all Alysia?s ministrations. She had nudged it a few more times, kicked it hard, then forced the tin open and tried to stab it with her dagger. The tip of the blade cut about an inch into something resembling a sticky chunk of dried lemon peel and would go no further; when she yanked her dagger free, the thin slice gummed over and closed up. She cast sensing spells from a score of different disciplines, to no avail. Completely baffled by its nature, she lobbed a fireball at it, but the fruitcake seemed completely impervious to fire. It was not altered in the slightest by water, ice, earth, air, or even shadow.

?It?s too bad this couldn?t be baked into a sort of armor,? Alysia mumbled to herself. The priestess finally just sat down on the damp stone steps and stared at it, brooding. The kitten left off stalking songbirds and sauntered over to Alysia, meering for affection and nibbling on her fingertips. She wondered what she had done to Jewell to deserve this vexing problem, and what Jewell had done to end up with the fruitcake in the first place.

Alysia drew her legs up and rested her chin upon her knees, listening to the rain and thinking. She considered moving it into her tower workshop for further study, then discarded that idea as the dense cake wouldn?t fit through the rather narrow entry. She was loathe to leave it on her front door and go about her business - after all, what would the neighbors think?

She continued to ponder her options as the sun sank toward the horizon and the glimmer of moonlight peeked through the clouds. She toyed with the thought of using necromancy on enormous cake to make it reveal its secrets, then shivered, imagining the resulting mayhem and possible headlines: Undead Fruitcake Terrorizes Tavern, Battles with Stew!

That might be exciting. She remembered some unpleasant exchanges between the Stew and a particularly noxious batch of Coffee she?d brewed several years ago. She snorted, then, and for some reason thought of Hanzo and his persistent delusion that the alarming fruitcake was somehow female.

What the Hell, she thought, grinning. Alysia flexed her fingertips, drawing on unseen energies that made the resident songbirds take flight, squawking in discordant, terrified cacophony. Minutes later, a sickly green glow surrounded the 750 pound fruitcake and faded. Alysia hefted the lid back onto the tin, and the thing levitated, supported by an intangible disc of shadow which floated back toward town, stealthily seeking Hanzo.

SilentDeath

Date: 2005-12-27 22:52 EST
Hanzo was sitting on the tip of the Inn, muffled and distant voices could be heard. He paid nothing to them, after all, he had a lot of things to think about. At that moment, he could feel something creeping.. it didn't have a soul, but he could discern something lurking in the shadows.



Puzzled, he lifted a brow, he was the only ninja he knew around here or had any reason to slink around. Dropping to the ground, he peered straight into the density of the cake. Sure, he had liked to argue with Alysia and Jewell about it, but it wasn't welcomed in his presence. He noticed a puncture hole and was slightly amused that Alysia had tried to stab it.



``Woman, I will show you how it's done.`` With that, he unsheathed his scythe and sent slashes in omnious directions, slivers and layers of it falling to the ground. He wasn't satisfied, but something had suprised him when a gamma colored green radiated from the core of the evil pastry.



``Oh, when I see Alysia for enchanting this thing and sending it after me....`` He mumbled to himself, shadowed by a string of obscenities as he descended to the Commons Room.