Chapter 3.1: The party begins

[yhlee]

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?

Comments

Re: Legume poetry

[yhlee]

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."

Re: Legume poetry

[hoardingpearls]

"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.