SoS B1 C1 X2: Lady Venistasia
From the crowd of diplomats stepped a woman in gilded purple finery. She acknowledged each of them in turn, considered their states, and eventually turned her attentions completely to the shortest among them.
"Immuena, I presume? You're quite punctual."
"I am! Thank you, Ma'am. I sure endeavor to be on time." Immuena shot a glance at the previous pilots, "I don't believe we've met, may I know your name since you know mine?" She extended her hand to the woman as she spoke; studying the otherworldly lady.
"Lady Venistasia."
She reached out with languor, clasping Immeuna's hand but not shaking it. Her grip was gossamer, but not ginger, the touch of fingers accustomed to the weight of a silver spoon. She curtsied as a matter of formality, and relinquished the Faecha's hand.
"Tis a pleasure Lady Venistasia." Imuenna returned her hands behind her.
"I trust the flight wasn't too much a hassle, my pilots..."
Aliese, the pilot, cleared her throat. "Begging your pardon, Lady Venistasia, but there... were complications. Miss Immeuna took over the controls and saved our lives." Once the pilot spoke up, Immuena's eyes widened, and she endeavored to hide her blushing.
Lady Venistasia paused to listen, then smiled to her. The smile didn't quite reach her eyes, which now seemed to be picking Immeuna apart.
"Is that so? How exciting. You're an accomplished pilot?"
"I can't say I'm accomplished, but how about we acquaint ourselves over a meal? The crew could use some rest and warm food in their stomachs." Immuena smiled, composing herself under Lady Venistasia's analytical gaze.
The woman inclined her head and smiled softly. "I have organized a feast for all the ambassadorial envoys, but some have yet to arrive or weren't so punctual as yourself. Aside from you, only the Hedon representatives have arrived.
"You're free to wander the castle and its demesne, the guards will keep you from wandering too far off course. My servant, Serjun, will escort you to your lodgings. Dinner is at sunset."
She turned, and left, leaving a squat, square man -- the sort who looked like the sort of man with another inside of him trying to escape -- to beckon them towards the lodgings.
The squat man's name was Sal-Khef. His accent was soft, his demeanor gruff, his words polite, his tone curt. He escorted the party through two more courtyards, two stretches of hallway, and finally to a bailey.
"This is where you and the other ambassadorial groups will be sleeping. All accommodations should be to your satisfaction. Please feel free to summon myself or the servants in case you should need anything.
As with the rest of the castle: the bailey was built of red brick, with vaulted roofs, an abundance of fireplaces, a floor of marble tile, and windows of thick glass. There was a common room, with wings leading to there for the various guests.
As the party entered, they were greeted by the cheers of revelry. Crystalline laughter and boos tried to drown each other out. It was the Hedon envoy, dressed in gold and red finery and seated around the great table.
"Come.. come! Join us!" The most well dressed among them said. "There's plenty of wine for all!"
"Oh dear me, that sounds wonderful!" Immuena gently set herself in the group to partake of the festivities. To her knowledge, she has no reason to dislike Hedon's people. "Many thanks!"
"Do try to keep from overindulging, will you?" Donald called after her, sorely hoping that she'd take his warning to heart. He'd dealt with Hedon before. A rather unsavory sort, prone to debauchery and vulgarity at a moment's notice. "Meanwhile, I find myself more inclined towards tea this evening." He said, starting his movement towards one of the aforementioned servants to inquire about their tea selection.
"I think I'll be joining you Donald. Of course I mean no offence to your kind offer, but sadly I don't drink. I like to keep a clear head, but thank you."
The Hedonists comprised of a well-dressed Ral-Mi with guilded fur, a FirstHeart (the leader, by the way he carried himself), a Vodalkyn, a blue-hired Manne Kin of questionable gender wearing a collar, and a Sauthe Verin with bronze skin and glittering, zinc-rich freckles. They playfully admonished Allarah and Donald for not partaking.
"Pruudes! Come come, it will be fun!" The FirstHeart said. He had an inner-system accent.
"I'll join you, Immuna. Hey. I'll take one of those glasses of wine." Tskhan waved.
"I'll take a beer if you have one. If not I pass.” Ulysses said. As he grabbed a seat by the well. His eyes scaned over the group watching for something, anything really, but in truth it was probably nothing. This place put him on edge. It was too calm. 'Ha!' he thought. It wasn't the clam that kept him on edge, it was only a factor. The thought kept itching at his skull, gnawing at him like a small insect. Why did they need soldiers here? Taking a deep breath, he let thought fall away, preferring to listen to the crowd instead, hoping vainly that this feeling would go away... but he knew it never would. Not ever.
The Vodalkyn patted the Manne Kin's shoulder and she... he... it served Immeuna, Tskhan, and Ulysses their individual drinks.
"So, yes, hello," the Vodalkyn said, leaning forward. Her cheeks were pink, she'd already had several glasses. "Are you the Federation mooks?"
Immuena giggled at the Vodalkyn's remark. Mooks. Taking a sip of wine, she pondered getting similarly drunk or simply socializing. "Hello, and yes, we're the Federation mooks." She smiled again at that word, "Shall we go a round of introductions? I'm Immuena." following that, she gestured to the Shejlt Rah next to her with her decision in mind. There was still a dinner to attend, and she could be Hedonistic at a more opportune time.
Quigley tended to Donald's teapot. It's hand doubled as a burner to heat drinks and light pipes, and it stood patiently with its hand in the pot, dunking in the spice bag rhythmically. "Any moment now, Sir," it assured.
Allarah blushed watching the others milling about at the table. Some errant pool of nostalgia turned in her chest reminding her of days long passed. For a brief moment she felt envious of the group, of her compatriots as well. "Well... I suppose one glass wouldn't kill me." She walked to Immuna's side fiddling with her hands. She'd never drank before, but nothing ventured...
The Ral-Mi gave an approving nod as the Manne Kin poured her a glass of wine. The Vodalkyn gave a small cheer. "That-a-girl!"
She gingerly took the glass, swirling it around the edges a time before sipping. "Thank you. My name is Allarah, and you are?"
"Synna," she responded, giggling. Her smile a bit lopsided from the alcohol. "Pretty name. You're very tall."
"Taller than most, shorter than others." The Faeo laughed in response.
"And I quite the opposite!" She said. It was true, she was short for a Vodalkyn, more in height to her Faecha cousins like Immuena.
"Well, short or not I find you rather lovely." Allarah smiled at Synna, working more quickly through her drink than she ought to.
Synna raised her glass and winked to Allarah. "And I you. If..." she paused, mouthing words to herself, looking roofwards as if trying to recall something. "If.. a name is but a function referencing the form, then your beautiful name is certainly a case of function following form."
The Ral-Mi chuckled.
The Vodalkyn paused again, then nodded, obviously pleased she'd managed to say it even in her state. She polished off her glass, and butted heads softly with the Manne Kin as it filled her glass again. "And this is Mir, by the way."
Allarah continued to grin at Synna. "You are rather eloquent. I find that... ravishing. I suppose I don't mind drinking more often if it is in the presence of one so enticing."
The Vodalkyn giggled and scooted to make room at her end of the table for Allarah. As the SoFaeo loomed before sitting Synna tilted backwards to look along her lithe form. "Tall," she reiterated, in a small voice. "I can't say I've met a pure blood up close before, nor have I heard of one smiling. Perhaps the Federation is less stuck up then I've been lead to believe~"
Allarah bent so that their faces were only a foot apart. "I like to keep a better temper. Knowledge is my nature and knowledge is social, if that makes sense." She giggled. She felt fuzzy and loved it.
Synna blinked her amethyst eyes at the sudden proximity, then grinned. "And a fine job you do, so far as I can tell," she said, reaching up to tap the tip of Allarah's nose with her fingertip. She sipped some more wine and licked her stained lips suggestively.
"So you're a knower of things? I suppose I am as well, though Lysjho is more the encyclopedia of facts than myself -- I deal more in the metaphysical." She pointed to the Ral-Mi, who was currently having a conversation with Immuena explaining how his race and her race lived side by side back on the cradle of life -- Jhoutai.
"Explain it to me, I would like nothing more than to listen to you speak."
Synna tapped her dimple piercing thoughtfully and tilted her head as though the weight of the knowledge within was suddenly a bit much. "Ahhh, well, what do you and do you not know? I've been a Psiolic long as I can remember, so I don't know what's common knowledge and what's not. Can I assume you know the seven Elements and the four Disciplines?"
"I do indeed.” She smiled. “When the Verin were young and meta was raw. Kyzan, the first Sovereign, ruled the battlefield with no more than basic heating and cooling spells." She smiled swirling a small cloud of cold air in her palm. Synna responded in kind with a smile and a flame.
"It would take over fifteen millennia in advancements of science and metascience before Sovereign Alephus and his council would lay out what we call The System."
Sip. Continue.
"7 Qualities. 7 Elements. 28 Skills. The entire foundation of our society is over... what, 20 millennia old now? Anyhow. He and the Verin houses built the Divinoriums to organize meta into elements and allows use of the 4 Disciplines."
Synna stopped her and tapped the side of her nose. "Before I forget, the fact that we can cast those spells tells me that this planet has Divinoriums."
"So, yes, that's the history, but did you know Alephus crafted the the 7 Elements to correlate to the 7 Qualities? Only by mastering the Qualities, by perfecting yourself, are you allowed to use all Elements."
Synna continued, listing them on her fingers.
"Gas for Upper Body. Liquid for Lower Body. Solid for Vitality. Kinesis for... oop, got the order wrong. Solid for Vitality. Energy for Reflex. Kinesis for Perception. Auric for Poise. You use the elements with the 4 Disciplines: Divination, Manipulation, Combination, and Immolation. Divination observes the state of the element it's cast with. Manipulation exerts a motion upon it. Combination mixes or conjoins subtypes of a certain element. Immolation breaks apart an element into baser forms."
Synna reached into her pocket and pulled out a painted coin. "And then, to never be outdone, ever, Alephus summed up the entire thing PLUS the calendar PLUS the basis of their religion in one single emblem."
She set the coin upon the table, tapped it, and polished off her fourth glass. Allarah giggled at their back and forth. This was common knowledge, but it was good to go over it with others to keep it fresh.
Meanwhile, on the other end of the table, the Faecha and Sheljt Rah were acquainting themselves with the others of the group. Turning to the Ral Mi who had been giving Immuena a history lesson, she spoke with a grin, "Well, that explains my occasional impulses. You know what I mean?" Holding her hand out, palm up, and with a limp wrist toward the Ral Mi, she then drank deeply of her wine.
"I suppose it does," Lysjho chuckled. The sound was like distant thunder thudding rhythmically through a veil of honey. "Depending, of course, on what those urges might be..."
He set his glass aside and cupped her hand with his own massive mitt. He appraised it as a jeweler appraises a necklace -- flipping it, splaying the fingers, sliding his digits over the lines in her palm. "Let's see. Manicured, with compounds in the cuticles. Your hands have a slight padding... but only slight, not the grip of a worker, but of someone who likes to work with their hands. A diplomat with many hobbies, I take it?"
"Oh! Stop it!" Immuena pulled her hand away, blushing gently. "And yes. I enjoy a great many things. Can't seem to stop myself from the various crafts, cooking, and music. I do love the arts." She smiled at Lysjho, then turned her head at Tskhan and nudged him with her elbow. "Speaking of hobbies, I still don't know yours, Tskhan. Want to try your hand at Lysjho's palm reading?" Turning away, she drank another large gulp of wine down, waiting on Tskhan and Lysjho's response.
While the vodalkyn and Faeo chatted away, Tskhan sat down at one of the near by tables. He drank his wine with caution since their bartender was being distracted by Allarah.
"Sure, I'll be willing to give it a try." Tskhan said.
Lysjho took Tskhan's hand with care, making certain not to make any quick motions. "I think your hands will rhyme with your eyes."
Tskhan's hands were sandy orange with lighter and darker striations. His palms were white, his fingertips passed. A fractal, graceful pattern laced the back of his hands and continued up into his sleeves.
"Lithe, but with hardened fingertips and rough palms. You're an energy Psiolic, quick with your sword. Tell me, do you dream, or do you just lay with your eyes shut and wait for an attack?"
"My dreams are like my life action and reaction, never passive." Tskhan stated with enthusiasm and fire in his eyes. "Waiting without the intent to react is expecting death and the becoming part of the void, nothing." He said sternly looking away into nothing.
"Well... That became philosophical quickly..." Immuena chimed in. She began twirling the wine in her cup around, staring at it, contemplating what Tskhan said. "Wait- We still have to go to the feast! How much have I drank?" Setting her eyes on Tskhan, craving an answer from him because she really had no idea and assumed he was more sober. She began hunting for a clock and tried to remember when Lady Venistasia said dinner was.
"Bahaha! Can't handle your liquor very well Immuena?" Tskhan mused before taking a swig from his chalice. Tskhan reached his open paw to touch Immuena's head and gently ruffled her hair. "Better stick with me so you don't get into trouble."
While Quigley slowly and gently brewed cup after cup of a rich nectar the shade of an acorn for his stubborn owner; Donald sat patiently, regaling Quigley with stories of his time playing cricket. Sure, the diminutive robot had heard them before, but his owner thought it was quite riveting to talk about how he was banned from three separate leagues despite only having a loose grasp of what the rules were.
While sipping on tea and regaling Quigley with the story of how he once broke a chap's collarbone with a fair pitch, a thought started to tumble through Donald's head.
It's not a particularly strong thought, and it has a difficult time ahead of it, swimming through tea and nostalgia, but eventually it surfaces.
"For the love of the Queen!" he calls out suddenly, disturbing the Hedon envoy and his Federation fellows alike from their revelry. With a bolt he's off, setting Quigley to brew strong tea as he trudges towards the group, fervor in his eyes.
"I am rather sorry about this, but it seems that we really must be off." He says brusquely, already attempting to corral his flock.
"Don, are you brewing your tea at the 'so strong a spoon stands up setting' or having an intense war flashback? Ha, what's up?" Tskhan snickered amused with Donald's actions and Immuena's fidgeting.
A sizeable chunk of time had passed since they'd sat down for wine, but there was still a decent amount remaining before the dinner. Not enough to sober up unless they set to the task posthaste, but plenty to at least compose themselves.
Mir (the Manne Kin) made her first verbalization at Don's outburst. She squeaked. The reaction was stunning. Synna, still talking to Allarah, turned in her seat so fast it lifted up onto a leg. She touched her hand to Mir's shoulder, worry in her eyes. Everyone else in Hedon moved as well, each in their own barely-perceptible way.
"By the Wheel," their Sauthe muttered, the first thing he'd said all night as well. Their FirstHeart (the leader) reached out to touch Don's hand and pat it lightly. "Calmly, if you would," he murmured.
At the end of the room, the entrance double-doors slammed open. Mir jumped again, this time a small shout. A gust of wind whirled around the room, snuffing the candles and feeding the fireplaces.
Backlit by the ever-roiling clouds of the horizon and by the ethereal glow of projections, five figures stood. Dressed in dark armor and cloaks with fur collars.
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