NationStates Jolt Archive

Bart Crews grinned as he stared out into the vacuum of space. This was his first time off the Earth. He'd never even gone to Selinia before. Yet, now he was really going to Duat. He knew he should be boning up on the languages he'd need. Of all the exchange students, he was the one with the least linguistic talent. Still, it was hard not to stare out at the lovely expanse of stars between worlds.

The young teen idly kicked his legs as he pondered what he knew of the Necrontyr Empire. It was a very secular country. At least most Danaan sources on the Empire seemed to consider it such. It was a faithful ally, though not one with which the nation as a whole had had much contact. While not actively reserved like Iuthia or Aelosia, the C'tan had not thrust their influence into the country the way Menelmacar and Pantocratoria had. Aelosia and Pantocratoria were both also participating in the program, Bart knew, though he hadn't thought about it much. His thoughts were mostly on what exactly a Necron would be like. Humans and Elves he had seen plenty of at home. But the next Necron he saw was going to be the first.

The landing areas outside the necrontyr capital resembled nothing so much as a cross between a seaport and a conventional airport. Some of the landing areas were obviously oft used, and kept clear and clean. Some of the others sported burn marks, and were mostly reserved for the use of private groups such as companies, or occasionally, individuals.

Some of these pads had exotic vehicles on them, sleek red racing craft sitting in recessed alcoves under larger landing pads, or silvered company ships on more used areas. Runways and white buildings marked off the more important areas, commercial passenger terminals – which were of course, where Bart was headed – or fuel silos. Perhaps more impressively was the fact that one side of the spaceport consisted of a mountainous slope, with buildings built into the rocky face, and a continuous stream of traffic into and out of highway sized tunnels driven into the rock at its base, supported by fluted arches of some grey-white material that resembled nothing so much as long dead or dormant coral.

All in all, the entire structure was an extensive feat of planning and engineering, and the continuous motion of passenger trains, aircraft and of course, spacecraft, gave the impression of a massive living being, with blood vessels carrying fuel and persons, a heart somewhere, producing light and heat for the many buildings, and electrical energy for the ships, and some directing intelligence, invisible but omnipresent, directing all the thousands of individual vehicles as if extensions of its will – and that last impression was not far from the truth, as there indeed was a central computer system that controlled, almost, if not entirely without flaw, every aspect of the air traffic control and automatic maintenance of the port.

The Danaan star liner’s pad was one of the larger ones nearer to the centre of the massive star port, a sheer metal surface which was dulled intentionally to make walking upon it easier without suffering from the reflected light of the equatorial sun. There wasn’t exactly any red carpet, but the passengers were greeted on arrival at the bottom of a short flight of carpeted stairs, and offered a short walk to a meticulously clean monorail train, which sat to one side of the landing pad, at the top of a sloped face. Despite the short journey, the carriage was unnecessarily large, sporting numerous tables, though the windows on the right side were the only ones to have a worthwhile view of the sprawling spaceport and the sea beyond.

The terminal the train arrived in minutes later was a change in pace from the highly industrial, if architecturally pleasing (to local tastes at any rate) exteriors of the spaceport. The walls were a light cream colour, and the platform paved in a slightly lighter shade of white, but beyond was a rather sharp contrast, as the terminal sported an indoor glade of trees, bathed in light from the south wall of glass. In some cases, families or business associates waited for the passengers. The locals were generally colourfully dressed, ranging from summer dresses to comparatively conservative Menelmacari style robes all in a variety of colours ranging from jarring crimsons and yellows to relaxing blues and pastels.

Of course, as on average less than one in a hundred citizens were necrontyr, they were not a particularly common sight, but they were there, mostly mingling quite happily with others, occasionally of course, as in any group, some of them were alone. They have of course, been described elsewhere, but, like the elves, they tended toward colourful robes, though theirs were typically made of heavier fabrics, and long hair, naturally in various shades of light grey or silver, but occasionally dyed other colours, at that exact time, gold – metallic gold, and copper, again, metallic.

It was, unsurprisingly not a Necrontyr but an elf who stood in the middle of the platform with a folded sign in English, Sindarin, Welsh and Gaelic, reading “Danaan Exchange Students...”

The Danaan students moved towards the sign at a goodly pace. Bart had actually been rather surprised to find out they were all travelling on the same transport. With space travel, he guessed it did make a certain amount of sense. Still, it bugged him to be spending so many hours meeting his fellow exchange students when none of them would be living together anyway.

Lisa Arthurs smiled bright to the Elf. "Hello. We're the exchange students. You're here to take us to our foster parents?"

Beatrice ni Dougal adjusted the jacket of her black pantsuit. Sarah Matas, in a black short dress, and Kim Hughes, all in white with a kind of cowgirl thing going on, walked behind the two younger students and with less evident enthusiasm. They were older and much too cool to look excited about things anymore. Beatrice and the others did smile politely and the Sidhe offered a hand to the Elf. "Hello, I'm Beatrice ni Dougal. These are Kim Hughes and Sarah Matas. We're here for the exchange program."

He smiled, taking Beatrice’s hand and shaking it slightly, he was of course, tempted to simply hold it, but that didn’t strike him as particularly suitable. “Yes,” he said to Lisa, giving his own name, “I work for the ministry of education. Are there any more?” he said, and quickly checking the students off on a notepad, decided there weren’t, “anyway. Yes. I’m here to take you to your foster parents. Though I’ve also been asked to offer you a brief tour of the capital city as well if you want.” As he said this, he passed out to each one a set of slips of paper, each of which had a thin computerised device of some description, the exact nature of which seemed unclear, each taking the form of a small round pill-sized silver button in a plastic bag. Each student also received a novella length guidebook on their chosen, or assigned, geographical placement. “Keep all this stuff,” he said, “It’ll be useful later. So, tour of the capital?”

Beatrice nodded. "We'd love a tour of the capital."

They were soon taken to a landed air vehicle, resembling most a small bus, clearly used for this sort of thing frequently. From the upholstery, one would imagine it was a decade or so old, but its exterior gave no clue, if only because the dullish red colour, not out of place, but not particularly eyecatching, hinted that any dents or scratches the vehicle had required were simply painted over. It was a common design used most often for transport of goods around and to the cities. While there was a far faster teleportation system in most of the cities, it was not used by industry simply because of both scale and time limits such devices were not the same as their military cousins, and could only move small loads, such as that one could fit into a conventional lift. This one however, sported numerous large windows, and the children (adolescents in most cases) were asked to sit by them while various points of interest were pointed out.

The capital city of Tephet-Sheta was constructed to give the impression of islands, but in truth, much if not all of the water was in huge artificial ornamental lakes. From the air, one could see very few of the massive sky-pierces seen in many other countries, though there were several of the massive constructs towering above most of the relatively small buildings, including the Emperor’s Palace, an extremely large building set in ornamental gardens and grassland up against the shoreline which their guide was keen to point out to Kim “It’s mostly open museums, and as you’ll be in the capital most of the time, well worth a visit at some point,” was his explanation. The building nearby, more of a low ziggurat capped with a dome, he described as perhaps more important, as it was the senate’s main, though not only, as there was a functional duplicate inside the palace, which was of course, generally open to the public, as well as another in the nearby province of Vinyandor.

The entire city, the guide explained, covered a large peninsula and the small islands near it, and was connected by extensive sets of foot and rail bridges, some of which were most remarkable because of the way they curved in wide, graceful arcs in the water.

“It tends to be the more mountainous areas inland that are people’s homes,” he explained, as they moved in that direction briefly, through the maze of various flying vehicles covering a larger commercial hub, “as it’s easier to get out into the country from there, and the land prices are much lower. Suburban if you will. The further towards the sea you go, the more expensive things tend to be,” he added.

The tour continued for a while, showing off some of the many interesting sights of Tephet-Sheta from the air. “So, any questions girls, oh, and Bart?” he asked, looking hopeful.

((OOC: Can I know the Elf's name?))

Kim smiled lightly at the guide. "I have heard a good deal about the Imperial Palace. I've seen a few paintings of Tephet-Sheta and read quite a few poems about it. I almost feel like I've been here before."

Sarah snorted a little. "So what? You've read about it. This is still your first time here just like it is for all of us." She paused, reflecting a long moment. "It really is beautiful."

Beatrice nodded a little. "Does the Senate ever use the other Senate chambers? Why are there three of them?"

Bart laughed a little. "What do people do for fun here? Is there a skatepark or a zoo or something? What's in the zoo?"

Liscëleryaon smiled, particularly at Beatrice, “Well, let’s see, they do use the others from time to time, when one’s being repaired or upgraded or redecorated. But the duplication is also partly in case one or the other is rendered unusable for some reason. A large dose of paranoia goes into most of our planning. There’s quite a few duplicates of most important documentation and so forth as well.”

He glanced at Bart, “Well. There are definitely zoos of a form. I’m not sure about skate parks,” he said, “I don’t recall seeing such a thing on Duat, but I’m sure there’s probably one somewhere…”

Beatrice smiled a little. "That does sound rather practical. And we'll get to see one of these chambers?"

Bart perked up, curious. "Zoos....of a sort? How are they different from regular zoos?" He paused, staring wide eyed out over the city. "Do they have elephants and giraffes and dragons and all the usual animals?" he asked.

Kim shook her head disdainfully at part and gave even Beatrice a mildly irritated look. "Of course landmarks and zoos might be given some attention, but I'm more interested in knowing what the local opera is like, as well as the theater and the art scene."

The elf smiled, “Ah, one at a time,” he asked, smiling, “Let’s see. They tend to be closer to safari parks or wildlife reserves than zoos. And no. There are no dragons here. That I know of.

“Well. Kim will at any rate, if she wants to. I can’t promise anything for you” he said to Beatrice, “you’ll have to pester your foster parents or go on your own.

“It’s hard to say what the art is like here at any particular time. It tends to change rapidly every two years or so, and then settle down to a stable state. It’s quite odd. You’d have to ask some artists and things about that.”

The Danaans fell silent after their questions were answered. Beatrice frowned a little and looked down at her lap, neatly folding her white hands. Kim turned her nose up a little, smirking. Bart and Lisa just stared out the window. Sarah was quiet, her mind elsewhere.

Kim finally spoke again. "But what's the opera like? The orchestra? They can't change every two years. They can't." She protested.

Sarah shook her head a little, listening. "Maybe they can, Kim. It is a different...

"No, they can't." Kim said tersely. "It doesn't work that way."

Beatrice shook her head again. "So where are we going now, sir?" she inquired politely of Liscëleryaon, the Quendi guide who, for the time being, was showing them around.

Liscëleryaon smiled at the Danaans, and Kim in particular, “No, they don’t,” he said, “But most new material tends to be published along the same cycle. As I say, I really don’t know why that’s so. I can’t really tell you much about music, as I said, I’m not such a fan of the opera, and can’t tell you that much about current trends. I’m sure you’ll find out on your own.

At Beatrice’s question, he glanced at his silver watch, “Well, I suppose we could make a stop somewhere if you want, for a few hours, your foster parents are supposed to collect you at about half five, and it’s just gone two. Where would you like to go?” he asked, looking at the Sidhe, as he said so, guessing she at least, would rather like to visit the palace.

"I'd like to visit the palace." Beatrice said predictably. "It'll save my host parents a trip later."

Bart grinned, peering over the city towards the palace. "Is Emperor Mephet'ran somewhere in there right now?"

The elf smiled, and nodded to Beatrice, quickly moving forward a little to discuss the matter with their driver. He looked back over his shoulder at Bart, "Probably. He spends a lot of time there."

Bart gaped openly. "Wow....is it true that he's a Tuatha de Danaan?"

Kim rolled her eyes. "No, Bart. He's a C'tan."

"Yeah..." Sarah said "...it's a kind of stargod."

The palace itself was set in large and extensive grounds, and they were able to set down on one of numerous small civilian-landing pads that ringed the building itself. It was a short enough walk that Liscëleryaon led them on, up a long road, a wide avenue of limestone, with wide lawns and occasional gardens and ponds nearby, as summerhouses and other small buildings that dotted the place. Various people flocked around the palace, some evidently tourists, some, including an elf who appeared to be the spitting image of Sirithil, except for having short brown hair, were actually residents, and still more were apparently various civil servants, though one could only tell this due to the fact that, just about everywhere, leather folders and briefcases.

The entrance of the building was quite excessive in its scale. Despite being the size of a small cathedral, there were evidently only two guards there, clad in burnished gold armour with helmets somewhat reminiscent of owls, even down to being engraved with feather patterns around their heads, and ornately sculpted chest plates whose purpose appeared to be strictly ceremonial.

The entrance hall itself was made of the same limestone as the road, and sported numerous wide glass windows looking in on offices and reception desks. The far wall sported numerous lifts, and the two sides of the hall opened into more public structures. Liscëleryaon smiled a little at Beatrice, and the others “Anything in particular you’d care to see?” He considered stopping for lunch here as well, as he was fairly sure he could get expenses for that.

Bart’s curiosity about the necrontyr could be rather more easily addressed now, as there were rather a lot of them. Silver-white did indeed appear to be the normal hair colour, and most of them seemed to be very busy, rather than looking as relaxed and casual as the tourists or the rarer residents. In truth, one could say that it seemed to be a slightly racist policy, but there were a highly disproportionate number of necrontyr in government jobs, but it was not as much a deliberate strategy as a slight preference in many members of the species for public sector work.

Beatrice shook her head. "I don't know what the options are. I've never been here before."

The elf smiled, and leaned over to a nearby stand, which looked rather out of place, and plucked a guidebook from the table, and passed it to the Sidhe, "This should help." Beatrice took it, flipping through. The guidebook itself was written in Two languages, English and Sindarin. It described various attractions, as well as a background on the palace, it's, in the grand scheme of things, recent construction, and the public areas. Most notable, and largest, was the "Imperial Museum of XenoCulture and Archeology" which 'boasts some of the galaxy's most rare antiquities, from several thousand planets.'

Above this were various art displays belonging to the Emperor, and more to her taste, perhaps, was an attached Museum of Government, which included, when it was out of use, the second senatorial chambers.

"Let's look at the Musuem of Government."
He smiled, "Any objections?"

There were none and he nodded, and shooed the Danaans into one of the corridors, "This way then," he said. A few minutes later, he shooed them into the lift, in - to the older ones at least - the same slightly patronising way, and told the lift the right floor. A few minutes later, the doors opened into a high glass foyer, with various other visitors, including a uniformed school group who looked to be about Bart's age.

The Danaans looked around with interest at a large pair of double doors, made of some exotic wood and carved with the circles and lines of the more esoteric and almost-never used 'high' Necrontyr script, that led into large senate chamber, a generally semicircular auditorium that combined wood and metal as building materials, including a great deal of silver and gold.

Liscëleryaon paused to take a pair of flat crystal and silver-plated data-panels, both of which were labelled in Sindarin as 'General Guides to the senate chambers.'

The Danaans continued to gaze about in interest and he passed one of the panels to Beatrice, who seemed to be the most interested, after taking a moment to change the language displayed to English, though the menu did also have options for Gaelic, Welsh, as well as just about every other language. The panel turned out to be a guide of sorts, displaying, in various levels of detail, information about whatever area of the senate chamber it was taken to.

Beatrice changed the display to Scottish, looking at it with interest. The display on the entrance had things like translations of the text on the doors, which was in fact, a lengthy oath of office required to be taken by the members. The central staircase of the chamber, which was wide and made of a white marble, somewhat reminiscent of that used in building Tarana, with more inscriptions, this time in the more familiar 'low' necrontyr script, which were revealed to be the names of the present senior members of the senate, descending to, on the lowest steps, the joint heads of the senate.

Beatrice looked around slowly. "It reminds me of the Halls of Parliament in Tarana."
Liscëleryaon smiled at her,

"Similar are they?" he asked, taking a seat on one of the benches, an act that could perhaps seem rather insolent, but, in truth, the seats were changed for less expensive duplicates when the place was not in use.

"Both marble."

He nodded, "Well, there's not all that much marble, Tarana's made entirely of marble, yes?"

"The Old City is, yes. One piece."

He nodded, "Feel free to look around, I'll keep an eye on you from here," he said, stretching a little, and looking suddenly indolent. The Danaans walked around, smiling as they looked over the room. Each of the senator's seats was part of a wide bench, with a rather limited amount of space for each, with a desk in front, containing a computer of some sort, which, except for a few exceptions, were of course, offline. The centre of the room contained several elaborate podiums, and banners, including a massive central version of the symbol on the flag, which was of course, spun from gold and silver threads where appropriate.

Beatrice smiled, going over to examine the flags. "It's very beautiful."
There was certainly a variety. The national, or perhaps, Emperor's one was of course, the largest, but there were thousands of others, displaying the various heraldry of the senators, and dozens more, larger ones, displaying the colours and designs of different provinces. The computer, of course, offered a commentary on each one, if asked for it. The commentary of the Emperor's flag, for example, stated that it was based on an ancient necrontyr symbol for destiny, depicting a planet, or moon, above a sun with five rays spreading from it. They took it all in, smiling.

The various podiums included one that lacked any seat altogether, which was apparently the Emperor's place, when he attended, two slightly lesser ones with high backed seats, and yet more lesser places for the speaker, and other functionaries such as the Master of Ceremonies. Liscëleryaon, apparently rested, joined them, and, deciding to pay some attention to someone other than Beatrice, looked at Kim, "Do you like it?" he asked her.

Kim shrugged. "It's alright. I want to go look at the arts next."
He nodded, "There's a rather important art gallery here," he pointed out, "if you're interested in paintings and sculpture."
"Paintings mostly."
He nodded, and glanced over at Beatrice, "And you?" he asked, bounding up the steps to one of the Princeps' places, the computer of which was actually on.
"I think it's amazing here. But I've gotten a good look if Kim wants to move on..."
He nodded, peering curiously at the display, simply because he was interested, "Very well, anyone else mind moving on?" he asked.
"I don't." Lisa said.
Receiving no objections, he bowed slightly, and waited for Beatrice to descend the stairs first. Kim climbed the stairs first, followed by Beatrice.

The Emperor’s public art gallery covered seven floors of the massive building, but most of the expensive exhibits were on the first floor. From entry, there were some modern exhibits, including, dominating the first room, the original of a commonly used portrait of the Emperor, looking a few years younger than he usually did, dressed in green and blue robes, and stroking, or perhaps affectingly scratching, a wolf identified as ‘Volkoslav.’

Other exhibits in the first room included both portraits, such as one, displayed next to his own of his wife, and other ‘realist’ artwork. Different pieces had different tones, and they were arranged to flow from the most depressing works, landscapes showing deserts, or mournful scenes that couldn’t quite be identified, to more modern and hopeful pieces.

The paintings were apparently unprotected by glass or other physical barriers, but were rather, protected by stasis fields, bubbles of space where time did not exist in a conventional sense, though, in most cases, light, for reasons known only to physicists and specialist technicians, flowed normally. If one of the Danaans were to reach out and try to touch a piece, they would find an invisible barrier, that conspired to feel of nothing at all, neither heat nor cold, nor any textured surface, except perhaps, hand-warmed glass.

The Emperor, who, oddly, left no marking or writing to identify his works, had actually created a number of the pieces, including the portrait of his wife. The rooms themselves were exceedingly bland, compared to the intricacy of most of the other rooms in the palace, in order to focus the viewer’s attention on the pieces themselves.

The next room, more surprisingly, was once more filled with portraits of the Emperor, and other important politicians of the Empire, in various jarring styles, pointillist, fauvist and ‘pop-art’ styles. Some were even rather realistic, barring that the subjects all carried low-necrontyr number boards as in police mug shots. On a brass plaque below the largest portrait of the Emperor were the words “From the outside, all politics are laughable.”

The third gallery was a return to sanity, or at least sobriety, in that it was purely art, and the subjects could not be readily identified as either C’tani or indeed, political. Some of it was extremely old, medieval tapestries from Europe¹, for some odd reason, despite the Emperor’s claimed dislike of all things Knootian, there was also an original portrait of Prince Gozewijn of Knootcap, and portraits of several prominent elves and humans from the histories of the nations that eventually formed the ‘C’tan Confederacy,’ such as several of the presidents of the Republic of Seroi, the nation that was usually most directly accredited as the ancestor of the Confederacy and later Necrontyr Empire.

Liscëleryaon, for his part, listened carefully and solicited comments from the students in all of the first three galleries, talking to Kim in particular.

¹ Insert metagame appropriate equivalent as you wish,

Kim kept up a running and rather pretentious commentary on the artwork. The words and phrases she used to describe them showed that she had been exposed to high level art criticism. The actual context in which she used those words and phrases showed she had no actual understanding of what she had been exposed to. Nonetheless, she lectured on piece after piece with an assumed mantle of expertise. Sarah nodded and smiled and agreed, whether out of the respect people usually attribute to the opinions of people who act like they know what they're talking about or just to appease her friend was unclear.

Ignoring Kim, Beatrice just soaked up the art, gazing at it in rapture. She seemed to draw strength from it, her form shining in the radiance of the creative energies contained in such work.

Lisa seemed vaguely interested, reading the captions on the various pieces and making a rare comment, never erudite but always sensible and showing some knowledge and culture and a greater desire to learn in all humility.

Bart looked frankly bored.

The rest of the art gallery was much the same, some areas showing local art, others art from foreign nations, and still more showing pieces that couldn’t quite be identified, even by their descriptions. Odd objets d'art and mysterious miscellanies cropped up now and then, their meanings vague and hard to define, and their origins even harder.

The older necrontyr art differed from that of the others in some respects, firstly, the aesthetic sense seemed to be ever so slightly different, in part because the necrontyr had a different taste in mathematical patterns and symmetries, and second, the palette of colours used seemed in many cases, to be skewed slightly away from reds and towards blues. Indeed, some comprehension of the pieces hinged on their being viewed with alien eyes.

These however, were subtle observations, and as such, no doubt beyond the wit of Kim. Liscëleryaon listened attentively as the young girl rambled on about the artwork, using all the right terms in what, to his somewhat limited knowledge, were all the wrong ways. It was slightly endearing. Beatrice on the other hand, seemed to bemuse him. He found her manner, if not sullen, then too quiet, compared to Kim at least, but said nothing to her about it.

After working their way through one floor of the gallery, he smiled, “Who wants lunch?” he asked, finding himself somewhat curious about what preferences the Danaans would have in foods.

Bart looked up eagerly at the mention of lunch. "I would love lunch!"

Kim barely seemed to notice. She continued to ramble on. Beatrice was literally radiant, at this point, lit up with all the dreams of love and beauty, shining out at the world in glory. She smiled ever so softly. "Lunch would be fine."

The Palace’s restaurant was large and surprisingly reasonable, despite its expensive décor. The reasoning behind this was the same as the palace being without entrance fees of course. As the palace, and consequently its restaurant were paid for by the taxpayer (which is an entirely separate issue to many foreigners, and requires much explanation) costs were limited. However, there were more expensive dishes available on a separate menu, as the same kitchen staff provided the meals of the foreign ambassadors, palace residents and the Emperor’s guests.

There was a great deal to choose from, even within Liscëleryaon’s fairly limited instant-access budget. The dishes ranged from conventional human ‘western’ and ‘middle eastern¹’ dishes through traditional and non-traditional Quendi foods to the exceptionally spicy Kajali and Necrontyr tastes. And, probably to Bart’s delight, several entire pages of ‘sweets.’

Drinks were even more widely varied, covering everything from various alcoholic beverages to soft drinks including the infamous ‘Pink Bunny Cola’ of Knootoss, which was in fact, free - It’s description called it ‘coloured water with minimal flavour, treated to meet local safety standards’ – and fruit juices, including some extremely exotic necrontyr concoctions, including ‘spicy fruit juices’ with barely pronounceable necrontyr names.

Liscëleryaon waited for them to decide what they would have, settling for something conservative with a mellow white wine.

¹ Again, readers should replace as necessary for their metagaming.

Bart, Lisa, and Sarah all got beef patties on sesame seed buns. In eseence, they got hamburgers, really, though the German term was not common in Danaan usage.

Kim got a selection of fairly random foreign foods and seemed to think she'd made a gourmet selection.

Beatrice got some turkey and gravy.

The elf smiled as they ordered, and took out another pocket computer, “So,” he said, “while we wait, how about I tell you all where you’re going and who your foster parents will be.

“Arthurs, Lisa. You’re going up to the closest moon Sainithil, with a family called the Kings. You should be picked up by a Rowan King…

“Crews, Bart. You’re off to Velyshaa, to meet Selanai and James Relisan, and you’re going to the local state school.

“Dougal, Beatrice ni – You’re going to the Western Lowlands region and, staying with Quendi parents by the names of Celebrenanu, and Adanseron,” he paused, “oh dear. You’re booked in at a high school that has… this to say for itself. ‘The East Isir Avademy of Education is a private school that embraces the traditional values of Discipline and Respect. Frequent monitoring of student performance and regular examinations are used to maintain the highest academic standards. Corporal punishment is used to publicly deter misbehaviour even into the final year…’”

He looked sympathetically at Beatrice and frowned, then looking at Kim.

“Hughes, Kim, you’re staying in the capital of course, with foster parents called Stephen and Mina Anwar. You’ll be going to another high school, nothing particularly special about it, one of the city’s more ‘artsy’ institutions,” he secretly found this entertaining, as he had the suspicion that she’d get told off and corrected on her pretension endlessly.

“Matas, Sarah, you get your wish and are going to one of the cities under the southern inland sea. I’m never sure which one it is, err, Kerisan or Keritalan” they were the names of two adjacent settlements, Sea-Town and Sea-City respectively. Your foster parents are Necrontyr, Risaeyra and Devar Antoryamëondo, and you’ll be attending a normal state high school.”

Most of the children nodded. Beatrice frowned a little, folding her hands in front of her lap and arching a brow. However, she didn't say anything about the school itself. She simply gently corrected the form. "Dougal isn't a last name."

Kim grinned. "That's wonderful! Arts my speciality. I've been studying it at the post-graduate level already." The scary thing was, it was rather evident she did consider her own bragging to be true.

Beatrice shrugged. "I've been living off it since I was born." She wasn't exactly saying Kim didn't know what she was talking about, although Beatrice knew perfectly well she didn't. She was just quieting her down a little.

The students fell silent, contemplating the near future as they waited for their meals.

(I was operating on the assumption that it was some kind of 'noble' house. Hence, "The House of Dougal, Beatrice of." Is this correct? Besides, it's not as if they can reprogram the system for a few dozen or so sidhe students, as he'll say.)

“It’s Dougal, as in the house of Dougal, Beatrice of, yes? Besides. That’s how the system works, I don’t really have the authority to change it - unless you have a few other names, then I could set it up as a Noldorin name. Besides, given where you’re going, they’ll probably call that out at every lesson.”

If said by a lesser man, it would perhaps have sounded like gloating, but Liscëleryaon sounded as though he was genuinely commiserating, and indeed, he was. He would, if asked to put professionalism aside, have said that Beatrice was his favourite of this group of Danaans. Though he wouldn’t dismiss the possibility of that purely being a supernatural effect, as opposed to her actual personality.

He glanced at Kim, and sighed as the burgers were delivered, “Yes,” he said, “I’m sure you’ll get proper recognition there,” he said, imagining with considerable amusement, teachers telling Kim off for being ‘a presumptuous little madam.’

Kim’s plate of food was first to arrive, and Liscëleryaon grinned as he examined it. Kajali curry, necrontyr fruit (also spicy!), something he was sure he’d seen used as an aphrodisiac in a few films, and something that could be Swedish meatballs, though of course, it was a well known fact that all civilisations had Swedish meatballs. After that, the hamburgers were delivered, and finally, Beatrice’s turkey.

Beatrice shook her head. "They can't. That's not my name. That's not how you say it. It's just wrong. Are they going to beat me every day until I answer to something that isn't my name? Why does a government exchange program go to a private school anyway?" She was clearly upset by this, far moreso than by the possibility of corporal punishment. From her tone, it would not have been at all surprising if the next thing she said was that she just wanted to opt out of the program. She didn't actually say that though, not yet.

Bart and Lisa both looked away. Kids their age didn't really have the willpower to look at an upset Sidhe. Sarah spoke up tentatively. "It is...kind of...There's a certain..." She wasn't sure how to say what she wanted to say politely.

Kim just ate quietly, pretending to like the dreadful mish-mash of foods that didn't go which she had gotten herself.

The elf stared at her, "I'll see what I can do, as you feel so strongly about it."
Beatrice nodded. "Thank you."
"I'd hate to be the one doing this with the Eshu kids..." Sarah commented off-handedly.
"Eshu?" he asked.
"Yeah. I hate to stereotype but they tend to be insistent about this kind of thing."
He smiled narrowly, "How so?" he said, suspecting he would have to deal with them later.
"They are dreams of freedom." Beatrice commented. "They also believe very strongly in fate." It was clear that all the Danaans thought the question had been answered.
"That's an interesting... but rather cryptic response."
"Cryptic?" Kim asked, curiously.

"The name is very important to fate." Lisa clarified.
"I... see..." he said, obviously not seeing.
"It's like this." Bart said. "Eshu don't let anyone else define who they are, not nobles or politicians or the media or anyone. That's why they won't let their names be messed with. Freedom."
"Does this include parents?" he asked.
"Of course." Beatrice said.

Yet another headache he thought, "How many Eshu are there then?"
"In the world?" Lisa asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Seventy-five million. Why?"
"Humm. Over a hundred of them then," he said, "worrying."
"Probably not." Lisa said. "They're probably underrepresented in the program."
"Humm," he said, taking a drink, "A relief I suppose."
Bart arched a brow.
He looked over at Bart, "For me at any rate."

They went back to their meal, no one speaking for the moment.
He sat and waited for them to finish.
They finished their food.
"Stay there for a moment," he said, and went over to pay.
They stayed where they were.
When he returned he glared at Kim, who was doubtless trying to pretend she'd enjoyed her meal, "Try something cheaper next time," he said. Kim nodded non-commitally.

"Well," he said, "I suppose we should be moving on," he looked at his pocket watch, an engraved silver timepiece. They stood, wondering where they were off to next.
"Anywhere else you particularly want to see?" he asked. They shook their heads, a little cowed now. His attitude towards them seemed to have shifted. Lisa smiled a little. "I can't think of anything."

"Right," he said, "Back to the offices for me then, and off to your foster parents for you," he lead them off and smiled a little, whistling. They followed. "Do you all have much spending money?" he asked, looking maliciously at Kim.
"Some..." Kim answered.
As he lead them back to the vehicle they had arrived in, he contemplated ways of billing her for her excessively expensive meal.

A short trip later and he ushered them off at a wide glass building, with a sign reading 'Education Ministry, District Offices" written on it in brass. The entrance hall was fairly small, carpeted in red. He pressed his hand to a panel on a side-door and let them through into a stairwell of sorts, then hurried them upstairs into a waiting room.
Some of the foster parents were already there, including Celebrenanu, Beatrice's foster mother, who was unusual among elves for not having the usual distinctive pointed ears. They all waited behind him to be introduced and handed off.

A tall and rather kindly looking man, with the characteristic blue-grey skin and white hair of the necrontyr was introduced as Devar Antoryamëondo, and Sarah was nudged foward and introduced to him first. Sarah smiled, inclining her head as she was introduced. He nodded in return, and seemed to be restraining himself from giving her a hug, "Hello," he said, returning her smile.

She grinned brightly. "Hello." She moved closer. She seemed to like her temporary family. He gave in to his urge and leaned forward to give Sarah an affectionate hug. Liscëleryaon smiled at this and took Bart over to the next pair of parents, both humans, or at least, close enough to be indistinguishable, who seemed to be happy for some reason. The elf introduced them and their foster son. Sarah hugged back. Bart walked over with a small smile, looking up at his host parents.

Selanai, the mother, grinned and ruffled Bart's hair in an affectionate if patronising way. Devar smiled at Sarah, "Shall we go?" he asked, "I've done all the paperwork and things." Sarah nodded. "Yes, sir." She was still grinning brightly. He smiled and ushered her out, "You don't have to call me sir unless I'm telling you off," he said with a smile, "and I doubt that'll happen often."

"What should I call you?"
"I'm rather fond of my name, you can call me that," he said, "or if you insist, you may try 'dad.'"
Sarah paused, considering, before she ventured shyly "Yes, Dad."
He chuckled softly, "If you're more comfortable with sir, you can stick with that." Liscëleryaon presented Lisa to one of the two remaining candidates, a short dark haired man who seemed to fidget intensely, Rowan King. Sarah went off with her host family. Lisa waved at the short, fidgeting man, a little nervously. "Hello."

He smiled, "Hello, Lisa," he said agreeably, and bounded up, "I hope you don't mind being rushed but I was hoping to be gone quickly..."
"Alright." she said, letting him hurry her off.

Liscë smiled at Kim, "Please take a seat Kim. I'm sure your foster parents will show up eventually," he gestured to a seat next to Celebrenanu, who looked at him curiously, "Err, one moment please Madame," he said leaving her to return to a book of artwork, again, some things appear in waiting rooms everywhere, she was examining, "Beatrice, would you care to come into my office for a moment?" he said, holding the door open.

Kim sat down next to the round-eared elf. Beatrice nodded. "Yes, sir." She glided into the office. The office was modest in size, but had a nice view of the sea. It was filled with all sorts of house plants, as well as several dozen pictures, both two, and in one case, a group shot serving as a bookend on a shelf, three dimensional, of his extended family. "Please," he said, "take a seat." He hung up his coat, and sat down behind the desk, "Let's see what we can do about this name thing shall we?"

Beatrice sat down, elegantly crossing her long legs. "Yes, sir." she said. She smiled weakly, though she still looked a little worried. He smiled, "Now to try and give them the impression I have more authority than I really have," he said, turning on a computer of some sort, that projected a two sided screen into the air at his eye level.
"Why would they object to changing it anyway?" Beatrice asked curiously.

"Because they insist on conformism. If you want them to change something, they'll probably push you twice as hard for raising it. If I say they should change it, they might just be reasonable though." He gave her a reassuring smile, and set about typing, an anachronism of sorts but one he was fond of. Beatrice smiled back a little.
"Conformism is...how did I wind up a private school?"

He frowned, "I don't quite know. Most private schools aren't as cruel as this one. To be fair, most schools operate at some level of privatisation, "Is your full name Beatrice ni Dougal, or is there anything else?"
"There's nothing else." she said. "Cruel?" Her eyes widened a little.

"Well, most schools don't practice corporal punishment, though it is legal."
"I'm a grown woman." she protested.
"That," he said, "I can see. Any particular forms of address you would like me to insist they use?"
"No." she answered, frowning.
He nodded, and hummed in thought for a moment, "And you would like them not to use?"
"Not really. I mean...I don't like miss."
"Oh?" he said, "Well, how about Neria, it's much the same thing in Necrontyr..." he added, frowning.
"Neria is alright, I think."
"If you need something to cheer you up, I imagine your foster mother is busy hearing how much Kim knows about all forms of artistic expression by now," he said, as he finished his letter.
Beatrice laughed lightly to herself. "That should take all of a minute."
"We'd best hurry up before she complains then," he smiled, and printed a version, the device he used seeming to actually make the paper with ink through to the core, as well as several watermarks and letterheads, "I've sent them a copy, but if they want one from you, take this," he passed it to her, "and claim that it's very important and part of the funding policy for the exchange programme. It's not entirely a lie... just a slight exaggeration..."

She took it, smiling. "Thank you, sir."
He stood up, "As for being a grown woman, I wouldn't try that line out on your teachers if I were you," he frowned.
"Is the law here different?" she asked.
"They've got a damn good case that you're still a child until you leave high school."
"Oh?" she asked.
"Legally speaking," he said, "Besides, most of the locals are considered children until they're fifty. I'm sure you'll get through it." "Legally speaking?" she repeated, deep shock in her voice, bristling indignantly.

"And biologically," he added, "Elves always aged like that, and as a result of increasing the human lifespan, so do most of them. Not that most people mind. It helps to keep classes together and keep humans from aging at three times the rate of their school friends."

"That's not what I meant." she said, increasingly distraught and wondering if all her classmates would look like six year olds. Three times the rate?
He laughed, "You're being put with those in those of equivalent maturity to yourself, not actual age, don't worry"
"They're 54?"
"More like forty eight to fifty. The three times comment was rough."
Beatrice nodded a little. "This isn't the experience for which I registered."
He frowned, and sat down again, "Why not?"
"I did not sign up to be beaten and disciplined like a child." she said calmly.

He frowned, "Well, no. I can sympathise. I can only hope that their description was overstating that. It probably was. Besides, you can always try and nag your foster parents into preventing that happening. They wouldn't be on the programme if they're not reasonable people."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I'm sure it won't turn out to be as bad as you think," he said. Beatrice nodded a little.
"If you can think of anything I can do to make your stay more pleasant, you've got by contact details in that booklet I gave you."
"Thank you, sir." she said. She wasn't sure what she was going to do. Part of her was considering calling her real parents.
He smiled, "See how you like your foster parents anyway," he said, standing and walking over to the door, "They're probably very nice."
"I hope so." she said, walking with him.
He opened the door, and looked out to see what Kim was up to.
Kim was ranting about art, as expected, Beatrice's foster mother, who seemed overjoyed at the prospect of getting away, snapped the book shut and jumped up with a smile. Beatrice nodded to her. Celebrenanu bowed a little in return, and they were introduced. The Sindarin elf smiled radiantly, and walked over to her, "Hello dear," she said.
"Hello, ma'am."
She smiled, "Shall we go?" she said, "We've got lots of things to do today, and we've got to get to know one another and so on..."
Beatrice went with her. "Yes'm."
She frowned a little, "Are you feeling well?" she asked.
"I'm not sick." Beatrice equivocated.

Kim's parents, dressed as though they'd recently been in a paint factory accident, finally appeared. Liscë felt they'd get on as he introduced them and foisted the little brat off on them. Kim eagerly took to them as well.

Beatrice looked up at the Sindarin woman. "I just don't like the school they assigned me. I don't think it was fair."
...
Lisa moved along thoughtful and quiet with her temporary family.
...
Bart grinned a little, skipping as he walked with his family.
...
Kim immediately started going on about some obscure 17th century Knootian artist she didn't know anything about, chatting happily with her new parents.

Beatrice’s ‘mother’ smiled, “Well, you should probably give it a go anyway. If nothing else, it has a very interesting selection of short courses that I think sound interesting, things like Clinical Genetic Engineering and Popular Artistic Science. It probably sounds worse than it is,” she said, stopping to lay a hand on Beatrice’s shoulder, “I’ve often found that things like that, especially in academia¹, which sound so very depressing turn out to be much less scary when confronted.”

She seemed to be rather keen on supporting Beatrice, and somewhat insightful, she’d not, after all, had the easiest life imaginable.

It might perhaps interest the Sidhe that the city boasted an almost endless amount of municipal art, often in the form of sculpted fountains and gently flowing mosaic-lined canals which incorporated tier after tier of flowing water and lights at night, but now, the early afternoon sun provided all the illumination such endless sparkling water needed.

----

Kim’s parents were, fortunately perhaps, as clueless as her, and quite possibly very like her real parents. They listened intently and supported her inconsistent comments on the style and ascetics of Knootian art.

----

Mister King seemed a little apologetic as he hurried her along the pavement, “This will seem terribly rude I’m sure, and I’ll make it up to you later, but I’ve managed to get myself an appointment in about half an hour back upside,” which she would soon learn to be local lunar slang for the colonies and inhabitants of the moons, “I’m hoping you don’t have any ethical or religious objection to using portals²,” he added, looking hopeful and harried.

----

Bart’s foster parents seemed enthused by his antics, and the woman who’d seemed fascinated by his hair asked, “Is there anything you’d like to do now Bart?”

----
¹ And, in my case, that’s OOC experience too. I felt rather like that lately with an academic meeting I had to go to. It turned out that the greatest problem was actually getting out of the building past a rather… questionable security system. In a brief moment of delirium, I fell about laughing and said to myself, “I never thought my greatest problem today would be getting myself out of the science faculty.”

It might even work out that way for Beatrice too, if she sticks with it. \^.~/

² I love my teleportation, I do, it’s a guilty pleasure, and it’s also a means of keeping my merchant fleet small. Both incarnations are basically like wormholes, rather than Star Trek’s style transporters (which, after all, I’d never get the elves on even if I used them) if you feel like trying to work out the ethical implications of them.

"I'll trust you." Beatrice said tentatively. She hoped her "mother" didn't just mean it wouldn't hurt that much. The pain wasn't the issue. If it came from battle or the like, she would embrace it. However, the sheer indignity of a slap across the wrists or palms or, worse, a spanking, was more than she thought she could bear. She was a grown woman! If a residual belief that she belonged to a "nobler race" contributed to these feelings, she wasn't consciously aware of it. Of course, old habits die hardest when you don't know you have them.
...
Kim moved onto Pantocratorian art next, where her utter cluelessness was quickly proved by the fact that she found merit in those hideous clocks.
...
Lisa shook her head. "I don't even know what they are."
...
Bart grinned. "I want to go to the zoo!"
...
Sarah went with her family as well.

“Ah yes,” Kim’s foster mother said, “I think I’ve seen a picture of one of those things. They’re utterly horrid if you ask me. Over decorated with a narcissistic message that is at the very least distasteful...”

----

Devar seemed to be pleased with his foster child and showed her to something that was rather rare on the streets of the capital. A parked car, which was obviously like those of Menelmacar, in that it remained hovering about a foot above the ground even when stationary, waited, and he opened the front passenger door. “Anywhere you’d like to go in the capital?” he asked warmly, “It’s a long trip back home,” he said, loading her bags ¹ into the back seat, “would you like to pick up something to read or do on the way? There’s a cool little second hand bookshop around the corner if you’re interested”

----

Celebrenanu smiled at Beatrice, “Good,” she said, “besides, you don’t have to worry about it now do you? Why not do something more useful, like telling me a little more about yourself?”

----

Lisa’s flustered foster dad grinned, “Magic door basically. It’s the quick way upside going by shuttle usually takes hours,” he turned a corner into a fairly busy square, filled with people of all descriptions, ranging from tourists to small-traders. One side of the square was dominated by a sheltered building with a glass side wall, from which numerous travellers came and went. Inside was what seemed to be a large green wall that rippled like the surface of a recently disturbed lake. “That’s one,” he said with a half-grin.

----

The city’s zoo, it turned out was across the expanse of the city, and it took some time to get there. The train that took them there left them off a short walk away, and James, the local names seemed to vary between fantastically strange and very pedestrian, paid them in with a selection of paper notes, which seemed to be something of a rarity locally.

The entrance foyer listed various exhibits, and one side was again covered in glass, which seemed to be an amazingly popular building material on Duat. Beyond and below were several clearly defined areas, linked by raised walkways designed to stop animals reaching them. Areas such as temperate forest and open grasslands received the most attention, with jungles and wetlands also being represented. “So,” Selanai said, “Where to first young man?”

----
¹ I can’t believe I only just thought of that little necessity now.

"I think they make an important cosmological point about the neo-Plotinist chain of being concept." Kim said.
...
Sarah grinned. "I'd love to."
...
Beatrice frowned again. "I am though. What would you like to know?"
...
Lisa nodded. "No objection here."
...
"Open grasslands!" Bart said.

“That’s no excuse for the sin of chronic ugliness in household furniture,” she smiled, “Besides, that is shameless narcissism.”

----

He pulled in to a side street, hovering the vehicle at about ten feet, part of the regulations in cities required that, to reduce the risk of collisions with pedestrians, then settled it down on the floor. Unlike what Sarah’d seen of the city, this part was very antiquated looking, constructed using more traditional materials such as brick and mortar.

The place he’d picked was just as quaint inside, with touches such as an open fire completing the eclectic holding neat shelves of disordered books, roughly categorised along various different lines, as well as other objects, stacks of data chips with symbols and dates written on the side, in different colour codes - periodical magazine archives, and occasionally, books in the same formats, in laser-treated glass ‘covers’ that allowed one to read details of the book’s contents.

----

The elf smiled, considering, “Well, how about telling me what you think of this city, and what you notice that seems odd,” she smiled, “I’ll even see if I can answer questions educationally.”

----

They didn’t take long to get through, it was a fairly fast utility, if as King did you had a subscription. The sensation of travel was slightly jarring, as even inside the colony, the lunar gravity was lower. The moon was also rather different, for a start, there was no sky to speak of, instead only a fabulously patterned dome over the city, made of thousands of strained ‘glass’ panels that let the light through, falling on different buildings, many of them the same as those on the surface, but others carved out of, or built to resemble, stalagmites.

“It’s a short walk,” he said, “then I’ll have to leave you at home for a few hours, I hope you don’t mind.”

----

The grasslands contained many of the usual creatures, some, the predatory ones, were kept, somehow, away from other animals. Herbivores however, mixed freely, and amongst the common types of creature were the kind that were rarely seen elsewhere, some, like the large beast, covered in shaggy hair called the Rhynadon. They also had numerous birds that populated the bushes and trees or occasionally flew around the parkland.

"I don't think it is." Kim said. "I think it's a precursor of social realism. I really do."
...
Sarah followed her host family home, smiling to herself. They seemed very kind but she wasn't sure what to say just yet. She looked around the home, examining the books of various sorts.
...
Beatrice frowned a little, looking out the window studiously. She seemed rather distracted as she half-heartedly looked for something odd. "Why are there so few Necrontyr in the Necrontyr Empire?" she finally asked distractedly.
...
Lisa followed along. "Sure. That'll be fine." Her voice did sound rather disappointed though.
...
Bart eagerly looked at all the creatures.

Kim’s foster parents smiled tolerantly, deciding, much as her own parents likely did, that letting her prattle onwards unabated was not only expedient, but likely to land them with a more compliant child.

----

They were soon out into the countryside, which, though it was an alien world, seemed thoroughly rustic. Nothing more than footpaths broke the fields of corn and other foodstuffs that occupied much of the lowlands around the city, gleaming behind them as it receded, some of its principal towers only now becoming truly scaleable, their size accentuated by the low mean height of the buildings around them.

The fields would seem surprisingly small by most nation’s standards, thanks in part to their never having used conventional farm machinery requiring large turning areas and wide roads, but also thanks to government encouragement of smaller fields for hedgerows and making climate management easier. Occasional patches of woodland spotted the fields, but for the most part, their route swept over farmland, with the larger, untamed lands that were considered to be essential parts of the nation’s terrain further north.

----

Celebrenanu seemed more comfortable on this topic at least; it was one of the questions she’d been expecting. “Well, until recently, necrontyr per se, not counting necrons, were extinct. The necrontyr were really last active many millennia ago, before, due to war, plague and other things, they became necrons, which are the androids a lot of people think of as necrontyr. Anyway, the reason there’s so few is that living necrontyr have only been around for about a century now, so that’s only a few generations since they reappeared. There are actually a lot of them, considering that”

----

It didn’t take them long to arrive at the place, part of an apartment complex in a spire that ran from the floor to the roof of the cavern. The insides were however, surprisingly large. The apartment Lisa was going to be staying in was fairly large, with one large sitting room dominated by windows covering an entire wall, and a very large wooden model, about three feet in length, of an antique sailing ship, encased in glass and resting on a low book-case, double sided, with more books at each end.

----

“Anything you’d like Bart?” his foster father asked, sounding eager to treat the child.

And prattle on she did. Kim must have dropped the names of some two artists from some dozen countries. Of course, she mispronounced most of the names, some beyond recognition, and totally misinterpretted all their work. Still...

After awhile, Kim did settle down. "So tell me about where I'm going to be staying." she said, returning to tolerable conversation.
...
OOC: Wasn't Sarah already home?
...
"How did they come back?" Beatrice asked with interest, forgetting about the horrid school for the moment. "Was it cloning or magic?"
...
"I'll get settled in." Lisa said as she looked around the apartment with some interest. Her gaze focused on the ship.
...
"A hot dog would be nice." Bart said eagerly. "Do they have hot dogs here?"

Kim’s foster parents seemed to have taken her tirade of ill-informed prattle in their stride, not being all that much wiser themselves, and tolerantly smiled. “It’s not far now, a few buildings away,” the mother said, gesturing to a midsize apartment building on a large lake. Or rather, partially on it, with water running underneath

----

(OOC: Nah, that was a stop on the way.)

----

The elf smiled, “Well, I suppose you’d say it’s closer to cloning than magic, though not actual cloning, as the living necrontyr are not actually directly related to any particular predecessor genetically. The first generation tends to have a large proportion of the inherited characteristics of their adoptive parents.”

----

The ship itself was quite fantastically built in period fashion writ small, mostly from small pieces of wood cut to the right dimensions. Waterproofed in the same fashion, the ship seemed to have everything it required to work, barring an actual crew. There was actually, built into the stand, concealed controls that operated a holographic projector cunningly worked into the table. Various controls could make a phantom crew spring to life with flags in the colours of various nations, and performing various tasks. In the main, the ship seemed to have Knootian crews. Below it were various books on sailing, and on naval warfare in what was often known as the ‘age of sail.’

----

“Yes, we do,” he said, “I’ll tell you what, you stay with Selenai and I’ll see if I can’t find somewhere that sells them…”

Kim immediately turned the conversation to architecture, still pretending to know what she was talking about. She seemed quite fascinated with the apartment design and smiled happily as she spoke to her host parents about it until they arrived.
...
Sarah smiled as they moved. "It is lovely countryside out here."
...
Beatrice nodded. "That's pretty interesting. I'd never heard about it before now."
...
Lisa started playing with the controls, figuring out how to make the Knootians do various things aboard the ship.
...
Bart nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, sir!"

Kim’s parents tolerantly listened, presuming that her comments, especially on Danaan and other foreign architecture were accurate. The buildings around were actually surprisingly simple in form, many favouring arches and vertical lines, with a mix of both ancient building materials and high technology substitutes.

----

He nodded, “Yes, we aim for the countryside outside the cities to be as picturesque as possible,” he said, “though there’s obviously food production to think of. This region, if you’re interested, produces a lot of the subsidised food we export to India on Earth¹ and other nations.”

----

Celebrenanu smiled, “Yes, it’s actually one of the most impressive things about this nation I think, though one of these days, the way things are going, I’ll have to actually learn Necrontyr. They’ve been reviving the language too,” she turned and lead Beatrice into a small park, gathered around a clear pond, and sculpted waterfall, “We should be going shopping while we’re here, I live in the country, so I like to get groceries while I’m in towns.” Somewhere nearby, another elf sat on an ornate steel bench in the grove, talking to the trees there in a deep, slow language that sounded very unlike the others to be heard in the city.

----

It was fairly easy to get them to do a multitude of tasks, shouting in Dutch and strutting around the ship, the swaggering officers seeming particularly confident.

----

He came back shortly afterwards, not having checked what, if anything, Bart liked on hot-dogs, and having thus gambled on tomato sauce.

----
¹ More correctly this would be the former-nation of United Indiastan, which was rather unique among pop-bug nations in RPing the difficulty of the pop-bug.

Apologies for brevity, I left it ‘til late to write tonight.

All the students settled into their new homes, taking the next few days to get to know their new host families, the areas where they were living, and things like that. They got local clothes to wear and other school supplies. Where applicable, they got their uniforms.

Soon enough, they were all off on their first day. Most of them were excited. Beatrice was terrified.

((OOC: Short fast forward post so we don't spend forever just settling in))

Kim’s first school day began with, no surprise really, art – in this case, the history of art. Despite the hubbub of the various students at the start of the new term, most filed into the class in an orderly manner, taking seats in a semicircular arrangement, like an ancient theatre. The teacher who came in to take the lesson was a middle-aged man, though of course, such things tended to be rather mutable, he could be anything from twenty-five to a hundred and still look the same. He began by discussing the principles of the course, and how it related to similar courses and ‘modules.’

----

Sarah’s school started much the same way, but she found herself sitting next to a young boy called Stephen in a more conventional classroom, where the subject under discussion was maths…

----

Beatrice’s school proved to be a fair sized mansion in a small country park, constructed in the British Late-Georgian style. There were various students of about her (apparent) age. Perhaps most annoyingly, the school enforced a uniform policy, and thus, Beatrice was forced to wear a purple and white outfit consisting of a white blouse and purple skirt, as well as various other pieces of uniform.

When she arrived, she was greeted by a young woman of her own age, who introduced herself as Indira Selenai, and seemed to be very taken with Beatrice’s supernatural beauty and elegance. “I’m to take you to see the headmistress for our year,” she said, after introducing herself.

----

OOC: If you don’t mind, I’ll switch to the others later. I’m not sure how many interesting permutations of first lesson at school I can think up. >.>

Kim listened eagerly to the man talking, taking notes about what he said and waiting for a chance to show off her immense (in her mind) knowledge of art history.
...
Sarah smiled politely at the younger boy as she took down notes on math.
...
Beatrice smiled back at Indira. "Thank you very much." She moved to follow the other young woman. Of course, she felt ridiculous in the uniform, especially the purple. She was Dougal! Imagine wearing purple. Anyway, she decided it wasn't so bad, it certainly wasn't like the school uniforms in movies that looked downright skanky. Silly as she felt, she followed the woman to the headmistress's office.

The headmistress of their year was another elf, this time with, surprisingly, long grey hair tied tightly back behind her head, showing off her tapering leaf-like ears. It was a deliberate move to create an air of authority around her, one which was in part complemented by a glimmering if relatively unornamented silver circlet that she wore, seeming to blend with her silver-grey hair a little.

She looked at Beatrice as she entered, and as Indira waited outside, with lively green-blue eyes and gestured towards a large purple velvet upholstered wooden chair presumably for the Sidhe to sit down in, one of two, in front of her wide desk. The desk itself was made of expensive varnished mahogany, and carved with legs that depicted Grecian deities holding the surface up. The front panel, concealing drawers, was an ornately carved bass relief of various similar figures involved in everything from philosophy to… less temperate activities associated with the religion of Dionysus.

The room was lit by a wide pair of picture windows in a frame that was in much the same style as the desk. It was at least clear that the elf, whose name, at least for the purposes of business, Quendi often having four or more names appropriate for different occasions, was betrayed by a silver name plate with black lettering in both Sindarin and English, as Istuimilui Faelemlin, had been around for long enough to arrange for the opulent office to match her tastes.

A portrait of a necrontyr man in a white outfit hung on the wall behind the desk, and Istuimilui herself sat in a high backed chair of the same purple velvet. Similar touches filled the room, all carefully chosen to create a feeling of age and influence, but all also works of art in themselves.

“So,” she said, “you are Beatrice ni Dougal, the exchange student.” It obviously wasn’t a question, “Welcome to ‘The East Isir Avademy,’ I do hope you’ll enjoy your stay…”

----

After a time, Stephen’s attention seemed to drift from the lesson and re-focus itself on Ms. Mathas. He leaned over, putting down his peacock feather pattern fountain pen, For all one would expect pens to disappear with ubiquitous computing, they didn’t, especially for topics like mathematics, where it was deemed important by the educational authorities that students be able to operate independent of high technology, especially in subjects as vital as this one, in his best effort at seeming casual and said hello.

----

Kim’s lesson, meanwhile, progressed to its end surprisingly quickly, with the teacher-cum-professor setting an assignment, much to the irascibility of her fellow students, with this being the first day of term. The assignment in question was, and its title elicited moans of dismay from the audience, “Art-Deco influences on architecture in Knootoss.” It was easy, in passing, to hear complains of the sadism of this obscure assignment. Though of course, Kim doubtless felt she knew all about the topic…

Beatrice walked into the office, head held high. She sunk into the indicated chair with effortless grace and crossed her tackily clad legs slightly above the knee. "Thank you, ma'am. I certainly hope so as well."

She kept her eyes focused on the woman speaking to her, resisting the rather strong temptation to take in all the art in the room. Her aura trembled somewhat with tempation as she was vaguely aware of all the fine artwork surrounding her.
...
Sarah smiled back at the boy and murmured "Hi." She winked before turning her attention back to the front of the room. After class was over, she fell in beside Stephen. "Hey, Stephen. What class do you have after this one?"
...
Kim did indeed assume she already knew all about the topic and immediately completed her assignment without bothering to look anything up in her books. It was, of course, full of inaccuracies but she was smiling cockily when she turned it in.

Istuimilui gave Beatrice a curious look, and nodded, leafing through a set of thick watermarked papers with intricate golden borders. “Very good,” she said brusquely, “First things first, I have received a letter requesting some degree of consideration be given to how you’re addressed. I believe you know something about this?” She found the letter, of which Beatrice already had a copy, and showed it to her, reaching for a slender black pen.

She looked up and seemed to be briefly distracted by Beatrice’s aura; it was after all, rather an extraordinary phenomenon, though not one she’d not read all about before. Then, setting it aside for now, she turned the paper around and slid it over to Beatrice. Attached was a fresh sheet of paper with the school’s crest on it. “Sign there to acknowledge that you’ve seen the letter,” she added, tapping her finger on the attached sheet.

----

He blinked, “Oh yes, err, Languages,” he said. ‘Languages’ was rather a broad description for various mandatory second languages, especially Sindarin, but also Quenya and Necrontyr.

---

Elsewhere, Bart was also being introduced to the sometimes-dubious pleasures of C’tani school life. Unlike Beatrice, he had at least found himself in an ‘easygoing’ establishment that catered to his interests.

---

Lisa’s school, meanwhile was a large complex enjoying a spectacular view of the stars and the planet below from almost every room. She soon found herself also doing mathematics, though it was far less complex than that Sarah had been subjected to, and the teacher took more time to relax, tell jokes, and so forth.

Beatrice nodded. "Yes, ma'am, I am aware of the letter." She signed the copy slid before her with a slight smile. "There you go." She offered the signed copy back to the Elven lady.
...
Sarah smiled. "Great, that's my next class too." She walked along with him. "So do you like it here?"
...
Bart was rather relieved to be in such an easy going school, taking to things easily.
...
Lisa was actually rather good at mathematics, although she also laughed along with all the jokes contentedly.

She nodded to Beatrice and took the papers back with a polite ‘thank you,’ signing her own name in a curt, neat hand underneath with a little flourish at the end, and replaced them inside the folder, which she quickly took and squirreled away in her desk, sliding the surprisingly plain draw back into place. Rising to her feet, she smiled, “I’ll just be a moment,” she said, and disappeared into another, attached room to fetch something, leaving Beatrice alone in her office.

----

He smiled, “Yes, most of the time, except for Computing stuff. Far too much of that I think” he contemplated her for a moment as they sauntered down a corridor with alcoves off it where students were busy with lockers and locked drawers, “Are you the Danaan girl they said was coming?”

---

After a while of the first lesson, Bart found himself questioned on the subject – yet more mathematics. It wasn’t that the school system actually did an inordinate amount of that subject, as much as a lot of the teacher’s literature said that it benefited from being taught in the mornings - much to the joy of its teachers, who frequently found themselves able to go home in the early afternoon.

---

Lisa, too, was questioned in the same manner, both classes essentially following the same curriculum and methods, despite being almost literally worlds apart. She seemed to impress, and drew an envious glance or two among much quietly whispered curiosity about the new girl.

Beatrice just sat still with quiet dignity. She knew that the woman had actually been nothing but nice to her but she still found the entire set-up rather intimidating. She'd never been to an office like this before.
...
Sarah nodded. "Yeah. I'm from Wintermore to be specific. Did my accent give it away?"
...
Bart seemed rather clueless. He answered almost every question incorrectly and made a horrible mess of things when asked to perform a problem at the blackboard.
...
Lisa got every answer right, grinning a bit to herself at the approval of her peers. Being good at school was often a cause of hostility rather than approval among girls her age back home.

Of course, that was the underlying principle of the design; maximum comfort for the elf behind the desk, maximum nervousness a student called into the office, in this case, Beatrice. Though of course, given her fae nature, she was doubtless quite at home among such artwork. The headmistress sauntered back into the room and took up her seat once more, smiling at Beatrice.

She took a thin volume, again in expensive paper, and passed it to Beatrice, then gave her a pen, a narrow silver object which flared a little at one end, and came to a typical ballpoint at the other. A button two thirds of the way up, engraved as the pearl of an oriental dragon, activated a laser pointer at the other end. There seemed to be nothing in the office that wasn’t some form of artwork…

The form itself was quite simple, requesting first the student’s name, and surprisingly, when she signed her name, it practically came alive, filling in other pertinent details, including her ‘title’ which was, as promised, necrontyr, a black ink welling up from inside the page somehow and appearing as the straight lined script of the Necrontyr.

The rest of the form was details about what courses Beatrice would like to take.

----

He nodded a little, “Yeah,” he said, “that, and because I’ve not seen you before.” They passed and entered the room where the lesson was to be held. Fortunately for Sarah, who knew some Sindarin already, it wasn’t that difficult, focussing instead on the intricacies of the script system and its placement of various ‘accents’ in lieu of vowels.

----

Bart was asked to stay behind after the lesson.

----

Lisa, meanwhile, was rather swamped with some of the students who’d been impressed with her earnestly introducing themselves when the lesson ended.

Beatrice took the pen and signed her name, smiling slightly when the rest of the form seemed to write itself. She then turned her attention to the form about classes, taking some time to examine the options which were available. She finally signed up for General Humanities, Honors Necrontyr History, Honors Menelmacari Literature, Chemistry, Statistics, and Psychology.
...
Sarah walkd in and sat down next to the new friend she hoped she was making. She found the Sindarin class relatively easy as long as she stayed focused and took very careful notes.
...
Bart stayed behind, nervously walking up to the teacher after the other students had left. "You wanted to see me?"
...
Lisa shookhands and introduced herself to the crowd of students, slightly confused. Was it really that big a deal that she was good at math? Nonetheless, she smiled and blushed.

The elf took the forms back, and took a perforated sheet from the back, displaying, unsurprisingly a timetable, “There you go,” she said with a smile, “You need not bother with lessons or anything until this afternoon.” She rose and walked over to the door, slipping her hand onto a sculpted brass knob on the thick wood of the solidly built door, panelled on the inside with ivory, something that was actually synthetic, and turning around to smile at Beatrice, green eyes twinkling, “Indira will help you get your bearings a bit,” she said, gesturing through the door.

----

It wasn’t particularly important that she was good at mathematics, as much as that she had the interest of a large number of pupils who’d noticed her. Eventually they filed off to their various lessons, and Lisa was left with around fifteen minutes of free time, along with several other students.

----

Bart’s teacher paused, framing his words carefully, “Would you like to be better at maths?” he asked, waiting for what he hoped would be a positive answer.

----

OOC: Wow, I’ve actually written a post. Yay.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am." Beatrice answered as she rose and took her leave, heading back out to Indira.
...
Lisa just kind of sat there for the moment, not sure what she was supposed to be doing.
...
"Ummm....Yes, sir?" Bart answered tentatively.

Indira smiled at Beatrice as the door shut, leaving them in the corridor beyond, a small area with several doors off it, in the corner of one of the school buildings. It was much less elaborate than Istuimilui’s office, though still decorated. This particular corridor was a little more experimental, it employed traditional wooden panelling, but with the panels slanted against the background, tilted diagonally, with some, at the ends, triangular. It didn’t really work, but then, not everything artistic did. The upper part of the corridor was more conventionally decorated than the bottom though, managing to avoid the sense of giddiness that came with the original, all diagonal décor.

----

Lisa’s next lesson started, and she wasn’t there for it…

----

“Very good,” he said, “Would you like extra tuition then?” He said, expecting that this would get a noncommittal answer.

Beatrice stepped into the corridor, waiting for her guide to do her thing. She smiled slightly as she looked around. This place wasn't as bad as she'd feared.
...
Lisa tried to slip into class a minute or two after it had started.
...
Bart paused a moment. "Ummm...well...I'm not sure. I plan to be studying the book a lot already."