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About Citrus

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  • Gender
  • Location
    The Terrarium, Science Lab, USS Excalibur
  • Interests
    Eating crickets, lounging under a palm leaf, clinging to the glass walls of my palatial terrarium, eating the occasional beetle, surveying my empire on the shoulder of my green aide (who really does set off my tone so nicely), napping, dreaming of Africa, plotting vengeance against the large moving rock who stuffed me in a box and sent me here, eating more crickets, waiting on my crickets to be served, stretching out my eight legs until I'm pleased with my flexibility (for use in jumping and pouncing), biting hapless crew, attacking any limbs that enter my terrarium that are not green, attacking anything that isn't serving me food, posing for photographs (especially for STF), perfecting my hiss, practicing my uncanny ability to dart from one side of a cage to the other at invisibly high speeds, fantasizing about causing a hapless crewman's nightmares, and horror films like Doctor No and Raiders of the Lost Ark.
  1. It will happen. Someday. ;)
  2. Something was causing a great disturbance in the world. Imperceptible to the humanoid eye (but quite noticeable when one had compound eyes, thank you very much), a spider watched Science Lab whirl from her comfortable, snow-white, silken web. Flicker bright, flicker low. Flicker bright, flicker low. Goodness. If that flicker kept up, it would scare away all the crickets. Having no comprehension of what a "cloak" or a "transporter" was, Citrus attributed the change in lighting to an impending storm. Soon the "savannah" would be rained on, and then even yummier bugs would come out to drink up the puddles. So she waited. Patiently... patiently... she didn't even lift one leg as she waited for the storm, content that her pretty, silken burrow would protect her from the rain. But rain wasn't coming. A pity. She was so sure there was going to be a storm. Disappointed, the orange tarantula made her mechanical-yet-graceful way to the stone depression in the corner, dismayed to find only a half-inch of water there. The green plant-thing who smelled like too-sweet flowers and who made water appear in the stone depression had not visited for several days. Nor had she made the crunchy crickets come. Mournfully, Citrus settled by the water-depression. She didn't know what could possibly have been more important than her, and her dim spider-mind decided that the plant-thing liked the Place -- the wide open place with lots of blinking lights -- the one she'd seen a few times from the plant-thing's shoulder... the Place that came after the tiny, little room that moved. The plant-thing liked that Place more than it liked her. The spider nibbled on a leftover hind-leg of a cricket, contemplating what seemed like a very dim future. No plant-thing to bring crickets. No plant-thing to bring water. No plant-thing to serve as a handy perch to survey her territory. Turning philosophical, the tarantula moved on to the thorax from her most recent meal. Assuming that the plant-thing never came back, how was she to survive? Her leftover cricket-parts would only last so long. The little water left in her dish would soon be gone as well. And then what? Her savannah was much smaller than it was years ago -- years ago when the sky was blue, and the world seemed to have no limits. The truth was there. She was lonely, lost in a small, cramped little world without grass and sky. Even her one friend, plant-thing, had seemed to have abandoned her. All was hopeless, hopeless... A strange, acrid smell cracked the air, sending all of Citrus' little hairs on end. Was it? Was... it... It was! She knew that smell anywhere! That smell was responsible for the savannah going away! She scaled the wall like a champion mountain climber. She'd bite it, and bite it again... "Oh, my," the mechanical voice wheezed, mechanical arm snapping the lid back into place hurridly as he waited for the spider to descend the cage again.. "Laarell wouldn't like it very much if you ran away," Commander Kahrak noted, shuffling at the side of the terrarium The Horta considered the tarantula he'd caught for the Orion, and were he humanoid, he would have smiled. As it was, the dark silicoid form turned a shade darker. "You must have been very lonely, what with Mommy on the bridge... "Do you think of her as Mommy?" Kahrak mused, one "finger" tapping on the side of the cage and sending the spider into conniptions. "Of course you must. She brings you food and water like any good mother." Suddenly, the roof opened, and one, two, three, crickets fell from the sky, dazed as they landed -- it landed. Only one managed to touch the ground before it was pierced sharply by arachnid fangs, and Citrus went bounding after it (two crickets still held in her mandibles) before realizing that it wasn't plant-thing which had deposited the food. The Horta gave it one last, fond, look, shuffling off to the geological sciences division to yell at ensigns. What he didn't know was that the spider had returned to a sense of contentment, digesting dinner. All was right in the Science Lab once again.
  3. You name your pet(s) after your character's pet(s). Or worse, if you buy said pet because your character had said pet.
  4. It was so... cold! Cold and clammy. Like a clam. Except Citrus had never actually met a clam. Why had the green food-giver made her sit on that cold, clammy thing? It wore dark colors and the fabric (if you could call it fabric) was slippery. And it gave off icky smells. Nothing at all like the nice, green food-giver who smelled nice, like flowers. Crunch crunch, snack snack. The lazy tarantula finally got around to pouncing the cricket in the corner, enjoying the tasty flavor of insect as it struggled against her mandibles. Citrus considered her fate as she munched, wondering what it would be like to munch on the icky, cold thing. It would be like trying to bite into a rock, she decided. That was why it was cold -- and slippery. Yes, this creature must have been related to the other rock -- the one who found her. Except the other rock was warm -- and acidic -- while this one was icy and apparently did not give off acid. At least not that Citrus knew of. It was time for daily exercise. Citrus stretched each leg, still holding her munchable snack in her fangs. Now that it had stopped wiggling, she could take her daily constitutional. Up one wall, down the next. Up, down. Up down. Then the daily attack on the lid -- surely if she kept poking at it enough, it would eventually give way, and she would be free! Free! This metallic world would be hers! Power, riches and glory! Every cricket she ever wanted! Scores of slaves to offer the most succulent baby crickets, and perhaps an attractive male spider... But the door wouldn't open. Today was not her day to rule. Tomorrow, maybe. For now, Citrus needed a nap. And nap she did.
  5. I take full offense at being called "disgusting" and "messy", and since I am a very single spider, I should hope that I'm not spinning cocoons. I will thank you quite kindly not to use such epithets in the future. Thanks for the maid service! - Citrus
  6. The lid had snapped open. I couldn't believe it. It was actually open. I debated with myself. Surely it wasn't nice of me to actually run away from my nice aide who'd actually taken me with her on her luxury-trip. Then again, she did stuff me in this itty-bitty cage and put me in her suitcase. No problem, I'm gone. That'll teach her not to expect me to travel less than business-class on our next vacation. I scurried to the door, waiting and poised on the wall for the next person to open it. The damned motion sensors weren't being tripped -- I think someone should sue the resort on the basis that they're prejudiced against small beings. And then I can have lots and lots of latinum and buy luxury jumbo crickets and better substrate for my palace than the potting soil the green one uses. I pounced upon the next person who entered, a rotund female who was toting a cart full of towels and bottles of foul-smelling chemical-water. I have no idea why she screamed -- I didn't mess up her frizzy hair or anything when I landed on her head. Then I bounded off down the hallway. I scurried down the bannister of the staircase to the more crowded areas, where surely someone would see me and admire me because beautiful creatures are made to be admired and I'm sure people here would appreciate me more than my green aide who stuffed me in a little plastic thing. So I posed on the little tarantula-sized pedestal at the end of the bannister, a few menacing legs in the air for photo opportunities, and waited. It didn't cross my mind until later that maybe I should have been charging for photos. I didn't see anyone take any, but that doesn't mean that no one did. Then, a most horrid sound. A yellow-haired female dropped a tray of food and started screeching in a most unflattering manner. I think she was trying to serenade me, but she really needs some voice lessons if she wants to attract the attentions of Citrus the Great in such a manner. Meanwhile I looked at the tray now on the floor. There were no crickets or beetles on it. For shame. Then I looked around the main floor, hopping off my pedestal, and headed on my way. Life was perfect. --- "There she is!" The green one's voice is indistinguishable. Maybe I'm just used to listening for it -- greenie does bring my crickets after all. I started to run. NO! The damned green one could pounce like a cat sometimes. And -- the box! Again! She brought the box back out! The teeny little box I had to ride in for four days! One of these days, I'm going to bite her. But I'm nervous what she'll taste like. Green is a warning color, after all. Like orange.
  7. Ensign Abraham Hamilton was fairly new on Excalibur -- he'd just been transferred from scientific research on Camelot a month or two ago! And now here he was, back from a frightening mirror universe, and his chief had asked him to do her a special favor! It was very exciting. She'd left instructions in the Lab, her message had said, as well as the supplies he would need. Quickly he put two and two together -- she had an important experiment for him to perform! It was so... just exciting! He picked up the padd on the clean desk in her office and looked it over. Then Ensign Hamilton read it two more times to make sure he hadn't missed something, and, shoulders set, headed back out to the main Lab. He knelt in front of a large glass enclosure, and squinted, not seeing what his chief had referred to on the padd. Then, something jumped at the side of the terrarium, and Abraham jumped away from the glass. Breathe, he told himself. This was, after all, his chance to impress the lieutenant commander! He retrieved several of the insects she'd specified, and stared down into the terrarium at the large orange spider there, looking up at him with legs raised. Citrus stared up at the strange face that seemed to be staring back at her and hissed, flashing blue feet at that evil visage. Clearly, it had some nefarious plot in mind to steal her stored cricket parts -- or ruin her web! One leg moving at a time, she started up the glass of the wall, in a better position to attack when he did whatever he was going to do. As he predicted (it seemed all evil people did the same things), he lifted the lid of the terrarium, and dropped straw-covered things in, then, lid in hand, stood there to watch. And all evil people did the same dumb things, too. Why he didn't put it right back on and re-encage her, she couldn't imagine. Stupid little humanses. But, it left her in a good position to... Pounce! But she missed her target (him), instead bouncing half off the side of her own tank to the floor. Hmm. She got lucky that time, and started in a sprint across the Lab. The chief's pet was getting away!! Oh, no! What was he going to do if Laarell came back and he had to tell her that her spider was gone? Quickly he grabbed an empty chemical holder, leaping towards the spider. The stars aligned for him, and the bug was trapped. Quickly Oh nooo!!! Citrus instantly started flinging herself at the glass, a low hiss escaping again. But before she knew it, there was a piece of something under her blue feet, and she was marched... no! Not back to the tank!!... and dropped back onto her plant. Hmmph. Nine days later... Laarell arrived back on Excalibur, in a considerably better mood than when she'd left, and headed right down to the Lab, not bothering to drop by her quarters first. She looked towards her beloved's cage, removing the bug and letting it crawl contentedly to her shoulder, then headed towards one of the back research rooms in search of Citrus' temporary keeper. Was it her, or did Hamilton look positively pale? The ensign's eyes boggled when he saw the spider. How come she didn't behave like that for him?? "Commander! Welcome back!" And his voice sounded of relief. "Thanks." Laarell grinned. "Everything go all right when I was gone with baby here?" That was no baby. That was an ugly, horrible, stinking, hissing, pouncing, biting... "Oh, yes, Commander! We got along so well! Three crickets a day -- your little darling was spoiled." He forced a smile at the pair. "Ahh. Good." She turned her head, stroked the tarantula's abdomen with one finger. "Here. I think she'd like to say thank you." She removed it from her shoulder, legs flailing wildly, and smiled, holding it out to Hamilton. He shook his head vehemently. "Really, Ma'am, that's quite all right --" "I insist." Reluctantly he took it into his hand, lightweight little monster, and inwardly, cringed. Deep in his heart, he knew that this was his reward for taking care of the stupid bug. His buddies down in Engineering had been right -- the Orion never would look at him. Even after he'd poured his heart into caring for her spider... Abraham sighed. Oh well. There were always other ways to get her attention.
  8. I can do it.
  9. Hmmmmmm. Something was definitely not right. It was past dinner time. And where was dinner? Dinner was late. Hmmmm indeed. Quite odd. She looked out at the science lab, watching the doors. No one! Now definitely very late. Shouldn't the green one be there to deposit food in her cage? Tentatively, an orange leg reached towards the side of the terrarium. Food wasn't here. Green should have deposited yummy cricket! Nor was the scared scientist who sometimes brought her dinner here. This was also odd. Perhaps the scientist was waiting on the green thing. It would have been very nice for the green thing to handle her, showing off the splendid orange and blue of her body. She would have liked that very much. It was like holding court, leaving her lush jungle palace to survey her beautiful grey empire with all of the blinking lights. Latching six blue feet onto the glass, Citrus settled in for a snooze, and wondered again where the green one was, drifting off to sleep with happy dreams of the African savannah.