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: Eddox and Seyli wander over

[kese_seyli]

Seyli cocks their head to the side as Eddox drops to the ground with the mothling and the new woman, but they're utterly charmed by the Andan and make no comment on the behavior. Anyway, the mothlings are strange and cute little creatures.

"Good evening, Sasha," they give her a smile as well, which isn't an expression they've had much in her radius. They take up post beside her, little halos shimmering around their dress as they move.

Re: Eddox and Seyli wander over

[zuhrovet]

Seyli's hair is in an approximation of a military braid, which makes sense, because they are a military person. That's the only thing about this situation that makes any sense at all. It's not that Sasha has never encountered a person wearing a dress like this--though, technically, she has never seen a dress quite like this, it's a fucking signal beacon--it's that she has never met someone wearing a dress like this whose companionship was not billed by the hour. This is not that kind of party, stars of hell, why can't someone run a nice relaxing denial-of-service attack on her fucking brain.

She nods to Seyli and shoves her hands in her jacket pockets, wondering if she should manufacture an urgent message.