hexarchate_rpg | Chapter 3.1: The party begins

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moves: chapter 3

Chapter 3.1: The party begins

EDIT: The base is sited in the year 951, in a very odd timeline that has NO h*archate. Supplies have to be brought in via rift from other timelines. Thread here.

Ashari's new base features variable layout, which has been put to use in creating an extravagant ballroom. Tables to one side boast a variety of foods, drinks both alcoholic and non-alcoholic, and the occasional euphoric drugs. Candlevines glow blue and violet, and flower arrangements interspersed with fantastic sculptures of lace-woven wire adorn the tables. The arrangements mean various sarcastic things, if you're familiar with the Andan petal language.

Music plays softly enough not to overwhelm conversation, loudly enough to set a mood complementing the low-key lighting.

Remi is one of the first arrivals from the Cantata, shepherding the mothlings. Because he's a Nirai, he has a slate and is taking notes, although he is happy enough to talk to anyone who approaches him.

The kitchen is currently adjacent to the ballroom. Ashari's voice can be heard, raised in some kind of argument with...a caterer?

Threaded | Flat

[When is Ashari's base? Did the Hellspin massacre happen in this timeline?

How much of a chance has Sasha gotten to debrief with Ashari? What is her assessment of their reaction to the team's acquisition of Jedao?]

[Oh! Oh! Is Dar cooking for the party, maybe? ]

Dar has a black apron over the dark, shimmering tunic and brilliant turquoise trousers she'd managed to get the matter printer to extrude. She had it make a scarf as well, but it's been abandoned. Her sleeves are rolled up and she folds her arms in exasperation as she looks at the new employer. Her tawny forearms are corded with wiry muscles.

"Look, if you insist I have to do it, boss," she says. "But if we put that dish of nnongzhing pickle out right now, most of 'em won't be able to smell or taste the rest of the food. The Kel can wait, it'll do 'em good."

The two platters of folded buns, one set filled with sliced duck, the other with slices of marinated and roasted giant mushrooms, are ready to go, garnished with scallion shreds and arranged around bowls of sweet plum sauce, each with a long-handled dipping spoon. Dar sees Deyna hovering there, with the air of someone looking for something to do, and nods at the stuffed buns. "Wow, just when I need another set of hands, great timing. Put those out on the big table, please."

Also essentially ready are a set of roasted vegetable skewers, stuck upright in a block of plastic foam hidden by a riot of fresh green and purplish leaves, and accompanying sauces: refreshing sour-milk with herbs (think somewhere in the tzatziki - ranch dressing continuum), and a thicker savory bean puree. A timer pings: Dar grabs a metal skimmer and starts fishing miniature shredded potato pancakes out of the hot oil, dropping them onto a tray lined with absorbent paper.

She notices Shess' handwork. "So that's what you were up to. Good. That huge platter is going to be the sweets, but we don't need them out for a while yet."

It will be interesting to see who eats what. The boss hadn't mentioned any food allergies or whatever.

Sasha is just walking into the ballroom when the obvious inference hits her. Hell has eight spheres, but we are at the center. She unfolds her tablet from her jacket pocket and messages the Cantata, "This location may have predators. Please stay alert and plan multiple escape routes to the rift."

She pockets her tablet again and heads toward the tables, scanning the bowls of drugs and candies for anything approximating a stim.

[Hi, everyone! Sasha is very short and of a wiry build; her motions are rapid. She's currently dressed severely in black and charcoal gray. A shining black pin shaped like a feather, formed like one of the fanning clock-hands of the rebellion logo, is pinned to the side of her low-brimmed cap. Close observers will notice that she's wearing a tiny earpiece in her left ear, which she's using to monitor voice messages from the grid and other team members.

I tend to write Sasha's comments in rather tight third person, and hers is not always a reliable point of view. If she is blazingly wrong about something in particular, especially something involving human interaction, you can tell me, but you don't have to tell me!]

The flower arrangements have attracted Ione at first; she is learning the petal language, as it's similar to the Calescotian flower-messages but not enough to be easy or boring. She's come dressed for partying, though with a nod to her own home's traditions in an audience that will not be thrown by them entirely, and the number of skirts slows her down a little bit from her usual walking pace.

Hopefully no one needs resuscitation.

She's still wearing elbow-length gloves, though these are in a deep navy blue to match her gown as opposed to her usual off-white. Her copper hair is up in a somewhat elaborate braided updo, and the caduceus earrings still dangle. She cringes a little when she hears raised voices, but tries to distract herself promptly, choosing to watch Remi and the mothlings take in the space.

Seyli isn't giving up on their hair. They have a vision and are going to go through with the whole look. Even if it means enlisting help from a fox to finish it. So they send a message through to Reshad. do you know how to french* braid hair? and if so will you...come do mine, please?. It would either be her or Ione, but Seyli doesn't want Ione touching them at all, in the slightest, knowing what they know of her abilities.

*[Whatever the Hexarchate equivalent would be]

Sulen waits by the drinks table for the newcomers to arrive, and resists the urge to pocket some of the euphorics for later.

[Hello everyone! Sulen is, at least for the moment, the Cantata's XO, and will try to introduce themself to all new characters. They're a severe looking person who gives the impression of being taller than they actually are, has long hair pinned up, and their eyes frequently flicker slightly bronze from compulsively scrying people's signifiers. They're a very obvious ex-Rahal despite wearing plain black to this party instead of plain gray.

If you know your character's signifier, Sulen will be checking them out! We have a list of the signifiers that have so far come up here.]

[Is this base where Hana would have been living since escaping the Vidona's clutches in her own time? About how big is it (size and population), and are there places that would have been off limits, or that she couldn't get into? Has she had a 'keeper' or someone from the rebellion checking in with her, or has she been left to her own devices?]

Hana watches the small crowd around the mothlings, eyes bright from the euphoric coursing through her system. She'd meant to be taking notes on these people who seem to be her new teammates; there's a lot you can learn from small mannerisms, how people hold themselves, how they dress and such. (For example, Hana's utterly comfortable, simple cotton dress layered over leggings and sensible shoes tell a lot about what she thinks about parties. Except for a thin silver chain disappearing under the neckline of her dress, she wears absolutely no adornment at all. No jewelry, no makeup. What's the point?)

However, she'd been distracted by the small, cheerful eldritch horrors crawling around and on Remi, fascinated and intrigued. "What was in those pills?" she mutters to herself, wondering if she grabbed something other than euphorics by mistake. But no, the mothlings are still there.

She stays just far enough away from the others to avoid being properly part of the crowd and carefully kneels, peering at the nearest mothling. It's - okay, it's pretty creepy, she won't lie to herself, but it's also a baby, and Hana as a rule likes babies. She does a quick grid search and, not finding any admonition not to, offers a shrimp puff in the mothling's direction.

It’s not Eddox’s style to play it safe, but it’s exactly what they’re doing. Too much weird shit has happened in an exceptionally small amount of time for them to take the point position. Besides, new people mean new possibilities and the chance to observe them.

Eddox enters the ballroom alone. They try to shake off the strange lightness of their arms. They prefer to enter parties with at least one lover draped over them. But free arms leave them open to have farther spanning conversations.

They are dressed finely in a iridescent dark purple suit with matching slacks and black shoes. (They have little love for the typical Andan Blue and only adhere to it under duress or the sweetest bribes.) The jacket and neck of their shirt has been left unbuttoned to reveal the hint of a black binder beneath. They wear no scarf or jewelry around their neck, leaving it bare, inviting someone to comment. Their rust colored hair is braided tightly in rows on one side of their head, the other side unbraided and styled meticulously to look carelessly frizzy as it curls down to frame the right side of their face. On the left side, their facial scar sprawls across the cheek in a thin horizontal arch over their nose. Their left ear is pierced with several small gold hoops, their right sporting a gold and cream-colored hearing aid studded with diamonds. A gold chain hangs from the top of the device and ends in a stud piercing in the lobe of their ear. Their makeup is minimal and a touch masculine.

Eddox sizes up the room, their eyes darting quickly to the food table and just as quickly away again. They make a show of taking in the decorations as they make a headcount, take in initial social posturing and sorting social groups from proximity and lack thereof. No Ashari, at least, they they can scan from likely aesthetics and body plans (which is a terrible metric for them) but, no matter. Molina had designated them as their point of contact, but seeing as Mol had conveniently left out the mission parameters and the whole time travel bit, they figured they would get to business when business got to them. For now, pleasure.

[ Note: Eddox is partially hearing, but will likely not be able to make out individual people speaking verbally in crowds. They cannot hear the argument in the kitchen. They are however fluent in Shuos sign language, Kel drum code, and simplified machine universal and machine universal (with their color field generating exotic). When close enough (or over comm or private vid) and without too much background noise, they can communicate verbally mostly without issue, and can speak common and the high language, but they do have a bit of an accent. They also speak their own culture’s verbal language and sign language. ]

Jedao slips into the ballroom with no particular fanfare once the party has gotten going. He wears a deceptively simple, well-tailored charcoal gray suit. The only flash of color is a gold-and-ruby earring in his left ear. The feather token Sasha gave him is prominently displayed in his hair, and he's put on light cosmetics--eyeliner, a touch of eyeshadow. He walks casually over to the wall, observing the other partygoers but not joining any of the groups.

[Note: Nirai Remi's back is currently turned to him, so Jedao hasn't seen his face yet.]

Making the rounds of people she has not already met and thus who theoretically came in with the Cantata, Xiulan pauses by the far right of the food and drink tables to claim a couple of folded buns. (It’s a particularly familiar looking dish and thus, best not thought too deeply about right this moment beyond the act of chewing it.)

She instead glances around and sights on another woman even nearer the edge of the ballroom, tucking away her tablet. Finishing up with the food and dispensing with the plate, she strolls in that direction.

“I wondered if there was going to be a warship’s worth of people to meet, when I saw all of this food,” she says, dryly humorous, and comes to a stop by Sasha. “But, manageable so far.

“I’m Xiulan.”

[Description was in her first post in this move. Let me know if you need anything I didn’t cover.]

[Would Dar have spoken to the other new folks about having restaurant management experience? If she was asked about her background, etc. Obviously everyone now knows she’s a skilled cook*g* But I was wondering if she’d have let on about the broader skill set.]

[Approximately how many people are on the base right now?

Is the base a stationary thing on an asteroid or other surface or mobile some way?

Thanks!]

Threaded | Flat

background questions

Oh ho ...

no subject

this is a working party - literally paging Cantata

and here's Ione

hair and make up - paging Reshad

Sulen, scrying