Date: Wed, 21 Aug 1996 03:47:53 -0400 From: Donna Buschmeier Subject: INT: The Hub: The Pythoness Palace Reserved: Nyneve (female Terwellian shapeshifter) Karrghln (human, former pilot, now an outcast) Bebe (Terwellian feline-like pet) "And what is it that you wish me to see for you?" Nyneve purred, peering through her crimson veil at the furry, yellow Frosgite sitting across the table from her. "Well..." The hairy creature squirmed about in its chair, obviously hesitant to reply. Nyneve sighed and let her eyes wander around the interior of her establishment. Multi-colored drapes and tapestries adorned the walls; incense burned in polished holders in each corner; ornamental windchimes dangled from the ceiling, tinkling every now and then when a waft of air from the circulation units drifted by; and a crystal orb sat in the center of the scarf-draped table by which she sat. All in all, not a bad set-up, she figured. According to Karrghln, her human lover, this was supposed to resemble some sort of archaic design on Earth known as a gypsy fortune-teller's parlor. "Um -- um -- " The Frosgite stammered. "Come, come," Nyneve cooed, stroking the inside of the its large paw with her purple claws. "You can tell me," she whispered. "Well," it began again. "I was sitting in Ten Forward a little while ago -- and I heard -- well, I heard someone say -- something about a Terran ship..." Nyneve's ears pricked at the mention of a Terran vessel docking at The Hub -- or, more accurately, her ears WOULD have pricked if she possessed any at the moment. In her present form -- that of a Mellonian -- her auditory apparati were nothing more than two minuscule nodules located beneath her curved chin. "-- and I was wondering," the Frosgite prattled on, "if -- if maybe this might be a good omen -- for me -- for my trade -- " Nyneve was barely listening. Instead, she was thinking... thinking what this might mean -- for her -- for Karrghln. Might this ship be the one? she wondered. The one that would take them to Earth? "Uh -- Miss -- Miss?" The Frosgite was tugging at her sleeve. "Are you all right?" Nyneve shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "I'm terribly sorry," she said, placing a hand to her rippled forehead, feigning illness. "Madame Nyneve is not feeling very well right now." She stood up abruptly. "No more fortunes today," she added, taking hold of the Frosgite's arm, urging the creature to its four feet. "Oh." The Frosgite looked crushed. It reached into its shoulder pouch and drew out a handful of cils. "How much?" Nyneve eyed the cils greedily for a moment before replying. "No charge," she said at last, realizing that she was more anxious to rid herself of this doltish beast than to reap a few extra cils. The creature blinked at her stupidly. "Huh?" "No charge, my friend," Nyneve repeated, After the Frosgite finally departed, she let out a pent-up sigh of excitement. Another Terran vessel! Could this be the one? And how could she convince the pilot to let them tag-along? She looked down at her chartreuse-streaked skin and frowned -- well, she thought about frowning. In reality, the perforated membrane that shielded the gaping maw of her oral cavity simply vibrated slightly, emitting an extremely high-pitched note that only male Mellonians could hear. *This will not do,* she thought. *This will not do at all.* Hastily slipping out of the long, satin robe she had been wearing, Nyneve stood naked in the middle of the room. She closed her eyes and willed herself to change. Slowly, her body began to quiver. Then it started to shimmer. Within moments, her entire shape had shifted into a new form. Nyneve smiled -- a real smile this time -- as she looked down at her new human body. "Much better," she said aloud, "much, much better." She dressed hastily, in a vibrantly colored dress with a short hem and a lowcut neckline that showed off her newly-developed cleavage. "Now," she murmured to herself, "where to start?" Where would these new arrivals be? she wondered. Ten Forward? Xaviera's? The Arboretum? "Hmm... Guess I'll just have to try them all..." ******************************************************* &%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%& "Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic." - Muad'Dib ("The Notebooks of Frank Herbert's Dune") &%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%&%& ************************************************************************** ---<-----<-----<--{@ ~~~The Lady In Black~~~ ---<-----<-----<--{@ ---<-----<-----<--{@ ---<-----<-----<--{@ ---<-----<-----<--{@ ++The Lady of the Lake++ ---<-----<-----<--{@ *************************************************************************** Donna M. Buschmeier Co-writer of Misty Waters, a serial in THE SOAPS (created by Chris Vaughan) For exciting new stories on the WWW, visit THE SOAPS at: http://members.tripod.com/~cvaughan/thesoaps.html *************************************************************************