La Casa De Ultra

“La Casa de Ultra,” you say to yourself as you read the freshly painted words upon the old wooden sign. You glance at the unremarkable shop; it doesn’t stand out compared to the surrounding buildings. You almost turn and continue down the street.

But something stops you. You hear laughing and cheerful chatter coming from inside the shop. Strangely exotic, yet homely smells waft out and your stomach growls with hunger.

“Well… maybe a small rest won’t hurt,” you think as you walk forward.

As you pass through the door, your senses are overwhelmed. Everything is just… amazing. The inside of the shop looks almost impossibly larger than what you saw from the outside. A variety of occupants sit at a multitude of tables spread out upon the shop floor. On the near wall, a long bar extends outwards as a tall, female bartender dries clear mugs with a rag. A small band plays a pleasant tune softly in the background.

However, before you can take in anymore, a portly man dressed in a white smock walks up to you.

“Welcome to La Casa de Ultra!” he greets happily. “Please, please, sit down and take a break from your travels. You must be famished!”

He leads you to one of the various tables, it already occupied by a few others. And that’s when you realize something odd. All the patrons are… a little different. Some are dressed like yourself, but most are quite varied in their appearance. Some seem to wear clothes that haven’t been in use for centuries. Others seem to be dressed in some sort of material that you’ve never seen before. They carry different items; carry themselves in different ways. And you could swear you just saw another waiter seating a Pikachu cloaked in dark sunglasses and wearing a black trench coat. Even stranger, the waiter appeared to talk with the Pikachu as if able to understand it. Humans, Pokémon, and everything in-between seem to be here.

“Pardon me,” you say as you sit down. “But where do all these… beings come from?”

“Everywhere and everytime,” he replies. “Folks from all over the place. You see that trainer over there? He’s speaking English. And that young woman in the purple robes? Japanese. Not to mention any other number of languages ranging from Common to Tryldrawex. But most importantly, here, everyone can understand each other, no matter what language they speak.”

You are about to ask how that’s possible when the waiter, seemingly out of nowhere, places down a plate and a mug in front of you. Wait… this can’t be. It’s your favorite food and favorite drink! How did he know? Where did he get it?

“How much do I owe you?” you ask, reaching into your pack.

“No charge!” he replies happily. “Well, that’s not entirely true. The owner requests that you pay for your meal by talking with the other patrons. Share stories and join together to have a good time! That and no fighting are his only rules.”

You sit back against your chair. This place… could not possibly exist. Perhaps it’s some sort of magic or futuristic technology. Maybe the owner is divinely inspired or a legendary creature in his own right. And the people! They seem to come from everywhere, even places you’ve never heard of. La Casa de Ultra is truly a wondrous and strange place.

As the waiter starts to leave the table, you quickly turn around and ask him one last question.

“If I leave this place, where will I end up?” you ask.

The man smiles, a twinkle in his eyes. “When you leave, usually you end up in the same place you came from… other times, where your heart desires to go… and others, well, where you are destined to travel.”

He turns, but pauses, and then looks at you again.

“Don’t worry,” he adds. “No matter where you are… you can always find La Casa de Ultra.”



Guidelines

1. Here, any of your characters from any of your role plays (including non-URPG ones) may come in and casually chat with others. There is no storyline, merely a meeting place to gather with others.

2. No fighting. Any physical conflict must be taken outside (in another role play or a URPG battle). If you get rough, various waiters dressed in various garbs with various abilities will kick you out.

3. Where is La Casa de Ultra? It is seemingly everywhere.

4. Who is the owner? No one really knows. There are rumors though, that he is a man dressed in white, who rides upon a horse.


A Note from HKim:

When I envisioned La Casa de Ultra, I imagined it as a place where your characters can interact with other characters of other role plays. An interesting concept, and one that you could consider, is that perhaps some characters could leave one role play and enter another. Or in other words, leave one world and travel to the next. To do this, of course, you would need the permission of the creator of the role play you are planning on joining.

Sometimes role plays end, not on a high note, but on a low one as it fizzles out from a lack of activity. Characters become lost... forgotten. But perhaps not so. Perhaps they come here, searching for another journey, another adventure to join. And maybe, just maybe, they find one. After all, these are the Worlds of Ultra. A multiverse of stories of our members.

Feel free to use La Casa de Ultra as a place to chat. And feel free to use it as a way station. A place where one character travels from one world... and into an entirely new one.

 

"Bartender!" Trilroy shouted as he entered in through the clattering doors of the La Casa de Ultra, "Get me a shot, dammit!"

The high life of the entire bar was evident. People laughed with eachother, while some danced to the swinging music that was playing in the background. Everything screamed of enjoyment and merriemnt, but the moment Trilroy walked in, everything suddenly came to a halt. Music screeched to a halt. People reeled around in their seats. All faces turned to face the newcomer as he stood in the doorway, his shoulders perking up and down from the deep breaths he took for no apparant reason.

"Shot of what, exactly?" The bartender asked him from behind the counter, hands busy wiping the insides of bottles with a wet rag, a single eyebrow perked.

Everyone waited for the answer, and he gladly gave it to them. His solumn face giving way to a sudden smirk, his face suddenly beamed. "Shot of milk...and don't you dare forget those dam cookies."

The scene suddenly grew vibrant again, and everyone returned to their previous activities. The dancers danced. The gossips coversed. And the bartender laughed; As Trilroy walked across the floor and sat down on a swivel chair at the end of the counter, the bartender prepared a tall glass of milk and old cookies he had back in the cupboards to the right of him. Tilroy didn't care though. He dunked the cookies into the milk and ate them each with only one bite a piece. After the snacks were devoured, he chugged the milk until there was a thin film of white on his upper lip. The bartender laughed at the site.

"God I love this place..." He smiled​

 

The doors to La Casa de Ultra opened, and Joe Ontarrg walked in, removing any harmful gear and putting them in his pockets.

"Ah, gotta love this place. Away from all this war. Can't do it all the time."

After looking over the tables, Joe found himself sitting next to Trilroy.

"Hey, Bartender. Could I get some pizza? Supreme minus the peppers."

Now chewing on the freshly baked pizza which found itself sitting in front of him, Joe swiveled to Trilroy, who was next to him.

"Hey, nice moustache ya got there." He laughed, partly to himself and partly to the other person.

 

Trilroy wiped the stache off of his mouth and smiled a wide grin at the newcomer. "Yeah. I grow it every morning. It's so hard to keep the girls off when you look this good though, you know?

Another glass of milk, another tray of cookies. Trilroy scarfed them all down in a matter of moments, to which his stomache resented him for it.

"So what brings you to La Casa?"

 

I walked into La Casa de Ultra. "Wait...this isn't the Pokemon Center..." I said quietly to myself. I looked at the trays of baked goods behind the counter and forgot all about any needing to heal my Pokemon. "Aw, somebody ate all the damn cookies!"

I sat down at a table. "I hope they let Pokemon in here."

Two strangers sat at the table next to me chatting. "Hey waiter, can I get some Canada Dry and a cheeseburger?" I said.

I told the waiter my name was Daniel and drank the ginger ale immediately. "Thanks, man."

This was a nice change of pace. No battles, no badges, no annoying sisters, just time to relax. I drenched the burger in mustard and began to eat. "Hm...needs some more mustard..." I said.

 

Trilroy spun around and instantly extended his hand to the OTHER newcomer.

"Guess you all just keep coming in like wildfire huh?" He smiled, extending his hand out even farther. "Well, welcome to La Casa! I just got here myself. How did you get here? For me it was through some dark alley or whatever...I won't go into details."

 

"I was sitting on a roof and fell through. I found myself standing in front of the door here," Joe explained.

"Where do you think all that food is coming from anyway?" Joe asked, noticing that a waiter had placed another slice of pizza down.

 

"I don't know...on the one hand, this place freaks me out." He said, taking a slice of the pizza and shoving it down to his already full stomache. "Then again...I could get used to the place!"

Not thinking of the consequences, Trilroy took a Pokeball from his belt and realeased the Heracross that lay inside. Switch, as he called it, emerged from the white light, and immediately flew over and landed on his trainer's back.

The bartender saw this, and instead of making Trilroy return his pokemon, he knelt down and grabbed a small saucer from the bottom cupboard. Turning around, he procured a tall dispenser of honey, and proceeded to fill up the saucer with it. Overjoyed at the site, the bug pokemon clammered on top of Trilroy's head and attacked the honey with zeal.

"I think he likes it too."​

 

I shook Trilloy's hand. "Hi, I'm Daniel. I walked into what I thought was a Pokemon Center and ended up here...I think these waiters are robots..."

 

"Eh?..." Trilroy said, turning his head to look at the waiters.

They looked like average people and acted like them too, but now he had a vivid imagination of waiters that were half metal, half flesh. With dispensible juice compartments in their stomach, and a garbage disposal located in their rear ends.

"...I'm not even gonna ask..." He said slowly to himself, taking a juice and drinking it from the counter.

 

Walking into the obnoxiously large building, Zeferin looked around in amazement, but then had to cover his blood red eyes with the hood of his cloak from the sudden bright light that he walked into. "What the heck? I was walking back home and saw that where the old arcade used to be, this place sprung up over night. But the arcade was never THIS-"

"-Big, sir? We get that all the time," interrupted the waiter that was next to Zeferin who definitely wasn't there just a moment ago.

"Yes...that's what I was going to say..." Zeferin was becoming more freaked out by the second, and he was a ghost-type Pokemon Researcher.

"Shall I take you to your table, sir? We have a lovely plate of chicken gnocchi veronese and a perfectly aged Chardonnay just out of the kitchen ready for you."

Zeferin, slightly wary, followed the waiter to the table set with Zeferin's favorite foods. At the table, just as the waiter said, there was a perfect chicken gnocchi veronese and a glass of Chardonnay; the food was the perfect temperature and the wine was perfectly aged. Zeferin couldn't believe it. How did they know what his favorite meal was?

Zeferin turned around and said to the waiter, "Hey buddy, what's going on? Where am I exactly? How did you know what I love to eat? Who are you?"

The waiter simply turned up his lips in a sly smirk, and said, "Why sir, we have known you were coming for a very long time. In preparation, we have set out what we thought would please you the most. And, as to where you're at and who I am, you are at La Case de Ultra, the meeting place for all those that walked off the beaten path. As to who I am, I am simply your waiter, sir." And at that, the waiter walked off and disappeared into the crowd. Literally.

Now Zeferin just gave up. Anyways, he was getting kind of getting a giddy feeling all over, and was feeling very relaxed. Looking at the meal before him, Zeferin decided, if you can't beat them, join them, and sat down to his delicious meal. Seeing that some other people had released their pokemon out of their pokeballs, Zeferin picked up his own and released his Dusclops and his Gible. No soon had he let them out of their pokeballs, two different waiters came up and placed a pile of apples before Charon, his Dusclops, and a 6 oz steak in front of Ketu, his Gible. Looking at his confused Pokemon, Zeferin said, "Just don't ask and eat. Also, don't look at them directly in the eyes. I beat that you'll lose your soul if you do."

 

The doors opened again, and everybody looked round.
There stood Gary MOTHERFU***NG Oak, the sun shining down upon him. "I would like a place for myself and my sexy girls!" said Gary. After this, at least 4 cheerleaders came through the door screaming. All the males in the bar looked quite chuffed at this and were nodding and winking at all of Gary's hot cheerleaders.:naughty:

Gary sat at the bar next to Trilroy, and all of his cheerleaders gathered around him and started admiring Gary because he was so amazing.:crush:

"Your finest champagne for me and my fans, please bartender!" and Gary snapped his fingers. :cheers:

 

Daniel watched as Gary entered. "Hi Gary. I see you brought your cheerleaders. Is it just me, or are there more then last time?"

Daniel looked around. The whole place was begining to get hectic. He tossed a Pokeball into the air, and out came Raiguy, who began to run around, dashing under tables and chairs.

 

"Gary Mother****** Oak eh? Nice to meet you...I think. My name's Trilroy, and these are my new aquaintinces." He said, as he shook the guys hand.

Noticing that everyone else was releasing their pokemon, he decided to let out his partner Duke, a hitmonchan. He appeared from the white light of the pokeball as it was realeased, and with a stetch of his arms a long drawn out yawn, he began to walk over to Zeferin.

"Say wha...?" Trirloy said, looking over at the siight.

Duke pulled up a chair, sat down next to the trainer, and then immediately several bartenders came walking over with differenet alcholic beverages. Picking one from the selection, Duke kicked back in his seat, and started to down every last drop of the stuff. Trilroy just gazed back in amazement.

"Jesus christ this place is wierd."

 

Joe's irises flickered to red and back at Gary MotherF******g Oak in excitement. He immediately stood and ran over to him and pulled out a weird, grey remote.

"HEY GARY! WILL YOU SIGN MY CONTROL-BOX!?!?" He nearly screamed. It was obvious that Joe was obsessed.

 

"...is that blue?" karas was sitting down in a booth with his haunter named oni, "shouldn't he be in his gym?" oni asked karas using telepathy, "well, he does seem to leave the gym a lot." replied karas

 

Gary was loving all these fans. He was signing control boxes, plaster casts, breasts... all was well.
Gary let his Umbreon out of it's Pokeball and Gary fed it peanuts he had purchased from the bar. Gary's cheerleaders, however, had indulged in a little too much alchohol and began dancing on the bar tables, pulling their tops up and such. The male audience looked in awe at the sight only Gary MOTHERF**KING Oak could have brought to the La Casa de Ultra.

 

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Typical Gary, making a scene wherever he goes," he thought jealously, "What does he have that I don't, he's got as many fangirls as Edward Cullen!"

 

"That's not something to be proud of," Trilroy said, sipping his juice as manly as one could with a straw. "Since when has the undead supposed to turn thirteen year old girls on? And while we're at it, what's the difference between the living dead and undead? I think the zombies got the short end of that stick...

 

"Well, you're right," Daniel said turning to Trilroy, "Twihards are more violent then any other kind of fangirl. I was reading about one guy who was worked over with a chair for not showing interest in Twilight, and another who had a brick thrown at thier head! I've been attacked too! The madness never ends! We must remain constantly alert, our enemy outnumbers us!"

Daniel ducked under a table. It was clear he wasn't too fond of violent fangirls. "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!"