hexarchate_rpg | 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?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“I’m happy to talk about moths with whoever knows something, particularly the experts,” Xiulan replies to Reshad and Ione, flashing a smile at Remi as she says it. It’s very clear he’s regarded as said expert by his colleagues. And after a thoughtful pause, asks, “The mothlings here...are they the offspring of the Cantata’s moth?”

The more she thinks about the overall situation and implications, the more questions gather. But. It’s a party. She tries to keep that in mind. Make a list for later.

”But I have some experience beyond this team. And you?"

“I’ve never seen mothlings before today,” she deadpans, then give a small grin. “But experiences other than that, yes. You could call it fieldwork as well. Largely a combination of intelligence and special forces type ops combined.” One hand waves at the floor as general indicator of the base. “As for this base, I’ve only been here for a week. Nothing much going on. Yet.”

She nods to what Ione says about dog tails, clearly not at all confused by reference to dogs themselves.

”Where I'm from, movement of vessels in space is driven by the human striving for perfection by adding other aspects of nature.”

The earlier revelation about moths hadn’t hit as hard, but it certainly paved the way for this admission to spread in her skull like an electric jolt. Her expression goes immobile, a counterpoint fighting to constrain an emotional ricochet inside. She thinks of being very small and not understanding and—

Focus.

“Ah. I really do have a lot to learn about the Hafn.”

A few more moments, an adequate conversational lull. A last pat to the mothling that has continued to orbit vaguely in her area. “Good meeting everyone. I look forward to those future conversations. But I should go continue with the introductions I guess.”

With a smile and a gesture to the rest of the room, Xiulan withdraws from the little group. She doesn’t actually immediately proceed toward another of the crew though, but weaves her way around various conversations to arrive at where drinks are laid out. After a moment of debate, she picks up a glass of water, peering down at the top.

[Heh, an unsuspecting shot right in the backstory! Nice aim, Mafyyil;)

In case there was a Rahal scrying at the time: her signifier went from Ninefox Eyes in the Dark to Ashhawk Banked and wanders its way back to the original as she’s at the drinks table.]

To Xiulan, Remi says, "The mothlings were 'liberated' from their adult parents as part of a heptarchate research project. My role was to rescue them from a research station in my timeline. The Cantata is not related to them--it comes from an entirely different timeline--but it has adopted them, and in my limited observation, moths are social and care very much for their young. I'm happy to answer any other questions you have, of course, although if it relates to the mothdrives, Alaric is the expert, and Sasha knows more about the grid interlinkages."

"You could call it fieldwork as well. Largely a combination of intelligence and special forces type ops combined."

Fascinating. "Then, let's definitely talk later." And not, perhaps, where the sort of stories that 'fieldwork' can generate will alarm those who aren't accustomed to such things. Reshad is all too aware of the way foxes are generally perceived, and trading tales of deception and bloodshed is not a good path toward correcting the imbalance.

But for the moment, a thought for Mafyyil. Looking from girl to peonies and back, she asks: "Do you ever write poems about... well, weeds?" For what else is a rebellion but a rival plant in a tended garden?

Stars. She hasn't thought this much about beans since she was living planetside.

Ione's comment about dogs gets a chuckle, their foibles being always a source of amusement. "Expressive and more personable yet." She offers a high five to a mothling, then drifts on her way, as well.

After all, there's more greeting to do.

Chapter 3.1: The party begins

Re: Legume poetry

Re: Legume poetry

Re: Legume poetry