In Harem's Way [Archive] - Page 2

Cadillac-Gage

15-04-2005, 18:50

Medea gets a wonderful view of the woman changing colors, blushing so deeply she almost changes ancestry.

“Ayid!” She composes herself with some difficulty, returning to – almost – her normal skin shade. “Many apologies, Ayid, it is simply that… if it does not offend… it is rare this one has ever heard of one discussing the honor of even being upon these tiles, as something… common.” Her voice is rife with shock; she keeps her eyes lowered respectfully. “If one may, why would you consider one who was one chosen from nearly a million, common? Oh!” She turns quickly to Engred, takes a step back, and bows again, half as much – which is an exercise in gymnastics nonetheless. “Apologies, Ayid! What is your wish of this one?”
Engred watched Medea's retreat for a moment, then, said, to the attendant, "I think you surprised her. We all need directions to the showers, and a bit of tolerance, I'm afraid, Medea and I both come from nations where such honoured treatment is...unusual." she favoured the girl a smile, and continued, "Please do not be offended, or think you have offended her. we are all trying to adjust...would you meet my eyes? I won't bite, and if you walk with your head lowered, you will likely sufffer neck-pain and be forever running into things. besides, It makes me wonder what horrible thing I have been tracking around on my shoes-my Aunt used to scold me, and she always began with my shoes..."
Engred's tone was cajoling and friendly at the same time-a trick learned from her Aunt, and one she sometimes used on Freshmen to relax them.
This got the attendant's eyes up to her chin, at least. "That's it...well, it's a start, at least. If you could direct me, Zukie and Kera here, and Medea-whom is the lady to whom you first spoke, to an empty shower, so that we might wash the dust of our journeys away, I would be personally most grateful, and will stop hassling you about your posture, or asking you to do things you clearly find...uncomfortable-just a moment, if you will..." Engred quick-stepped over to Medea.

"Medea, I've explained some of it to her, and gotten her to raise her eyes a bit-come back, or she'll think I was lying about your not being offended at the very sight of her-palace servants have rules-job rules, if you want to put it tht way-but rules. They aren't the sort to hold a gaffe or two against you-but I think she feels actively scorned and as confused as you are about the cultural differences, besides, we all three need a bath-and bathing can uncover all sorts of interesting gossip if you handle it the right way-which I think you can." She sighed, "Besides, you're stronger than I am, and I think you might be a better fighter if it comes to that...and you and Zukie are the nearest things to friends I've got here."

The Voltarum

15-04-2005, 22:28

OOC: IF i misinterpreted the meaning of these cards, please let me know... lol

Neira hesitated, and finally, carefully, reached for the cards and started to look through them... I do not believe this...

She started to go through them, carefully at first, then methodically. All these women.. many astoundingly beautiful... several not fully human, which both frightened and excited her at the same time. All older then her... and many more accomplished. She tried to remember faces, names. But about half way in, she started to lose focus, as many of the names almost made her laugh out loud.

But what amused her the most were the odds. Gambling was a foreign concept, only done in Hookball games back home... home... in any case, it was something looked down upon by the nobles... she flipped through... 100 to 1... 5 to 1... 7 to 5...1000 to 1... 1 to 1. She stopped and flipped the card around to see the picture... and barely held in a yelp. It was her... and a bad picture of her. She cursed herself under her breath... she insisted on that photographer for her House picture... and it came out like this... she looked like a polar bear had his way with her...

By now she was aware she was staring at the card for some time, and both the guard and Ka'tal were growing uncomfortable.

"Oh, sorry... um, just a little taken aback. Its not everyday that I find out people are collecting me... " She feigns a smile and takes out a pen and proceeds to gently sign the card. "Lets hope this is actually worth the trouble. Would be shame if you had a signed card from a rejected applicant. "

1 to 1... Could the Sultan really wish for me to be accepted? Maybe Xana was right... maybe they don't want to offend The Voltarum. I hope my odds don't drop when he meets me...

She smiles as she gives back the cards to the guard. "I am starved, about how long now till we arrive at the palace?"

Krowemoh

16-04-2005, 01:54

((OOC: Just curious, what are Zukie/Kera's odds? I'm sure Zukie and Kera are probably listed on the same card. It's practically a two-for-one deal here... >_>))

Zukie smiled warmly to the attendant as the other two women left. "I could use a towel, too. Oh, if I may be so bold. What does 'Ayid' mean? I've been called that all day long, and I am more then a little curious as to it's meaning."

Zukie, quite used to the stealthy nature of Nekos in general, wasn't the least bit surprised by the attendent's sudden appearance. "Also, one more nuience, if you will. I would like the most recent copy of the national newspaper, in particular the business section. Umh... Better lamanate it too, so I can read it in the showers. Thank you oh so much." She flashed her a wink and a short little curtsy, her cat tail swaying back and forth in a friendly manner.

Scandavian States

16-04-2005, 07:09

Sadira stretched and yawned as she came out of her slumber. It had been nice to catch some rest after such a hectic start to her stay in Vastiva. As her brain, and by extension her senses, became less and less muddled she could hear sounds that could mean only one thing, but considering that they had not even met the Sultan she did not think it likely that he had dropped by to relieve some stress, and it was even less likely that he was physically able to do so at three different, widely divergent places at once. Her sleep-addled mind quickly put two and two together quickly and a shudder of revultion passed through her body.

She suddenly felt dirty just being in the same room as those who were acting like over-sexed perverts and she stood up to find her bearing and her room. Seeing what she approximated to be the door that led to the private quarters, she made her way quickly to the brightly-painted door. On her way their she was not quite careful enough to avoid placing a sharp toe into some of the more wanton creatures she had the misfortune of sharing perfectly good air with. Alternately, one could claim, perhaps not inaccurately, that those self same toe jabs were quite deliberate and that the placing thereof to cause maximum discomfort couldn't possibly be an accident in one trained such as she.

Never the less, she had made an accurate estimate as to where her room was placed and after opening and closing a few doors finally came to her designated room. It wasn't anywhere near as spacious as her suite in the Alexandria Palace, but it was well furnished and not at all cramped. Finding her bags near the bed, she selected the one she knew had all her toiletries, a towel set, and a couple pair of silk pajamas. Looking down at the towels, she noticed the Saleh family crest and her name, except it was written in Farsi, which was not able to read, at least not yet. Picking up everything she needed, Sadira headed out of the room after closing the door behind her. After all, it would not do for the other girls to stumble into her room in the mistaken belief that because the door was open, they were welcome to enter at any time.

Noticing the line in front of the pink door, she dismayed. Sadira was quite certain that if she had stay in the open area for much longer, she would lose whatever was in her stomach, if all the moaning didn't do it the faint smell of sweat and sex most certainly would. Her doom and gloom self prophecy quickly erased itself from her mind when she noticed yet another pink door, two girls from the base she recognized that were likewise prepared for a bath, and a rather embarassed and bowing attendent. Sadira had enough experience with palace life to know that in such a busy place, accidents involving servants or minor functionaries were almost guaranteed on a daily basis, and the active avoidance thereof had probably caused more than a few embarassments all on their own.

Darting between relaxing and writhing bodies alike, this time without any "accidents", she breezed past the two girls, flashing a smile of wry understanding. Noticing a very large marble bath, she decided to forego a shower. Almost running, perhaps giddily so, towards the bath, she placed her bath things next to the basin and began fiddling with the tap until she found a temperature she liked. Standing up and reaching back to undo the laces on her bodice of her dress, her good humor disappeared as she realized she couldn't, quite, contort her arm enough to get a grip on the string. For the first time in her life, she cursed the fact that she had always had somebody to help her take off such complicated clothes. Frowning slightly, she realized there was only one thing for it and began walking back towards the entrance to the common room.

Peaking around the corner she said, "Girls, I'm in a bit of a bind, would you perhaps help me with my dress?"

Gnufasur

16-04-2005, 08:02

Sae became aware of her surroundings again, slowly letting herself go from her mediatation to return to the real world. She could sense strong spiritual energies resonating from several of the girls ((OOC note: The player characters)) gathered in the room. Several of them were grouped in one spot, near what she guessed was one of the many bathrooms.

She slowly released her sense filters, allowing herself full use of them once again. The smells and sounds assualted her from every angle. Sae sighed heavily, shaking her head as a number of the women made to satisified certain base desires, without heed for those around them, or any possiblity for a future among this group. How utterly distasteful. Have these people no common sense?

One of the strong sources of spirit energy she sensed passed by her, en route to the pink room near them. She made no move to ackowledge the other woman, and unless the woman was abptly trained to know when someone was discreetly looking at her, she'd probably had never known Sae watched her disappear into the pink room, as her eyes were hidden behind the thick veil she wore over her face, before turning her attention inward again, closing her eyes. A few seconds later, the woman returned, asking for help with her dress.

Sae made no move, taking on a charade of meditating again. Paitently, she waited and watched, to see whom would respond, and if she would take their offer...

Vastiva

16-04-2005, 08:06

Gnufasur

16-04-2005, 08:15

Sae sighs mentally, both hearing and sensing the confrontation between the woman and another one, with one with a taint of a negative aura about her.

"How clumsy of me! I shouldn't think you'll have to be cut out of that now! Tsk tsk! Sorry about that, I'll see about getting someone to help you out." The Negative Aura Woman spoke, muttering something under her breath as she walks away from the Dress Woman. (As Sae now refers to them)

It would seem that there are a fair number of passive-aggressors within the canidates. I shall have to take extra care to avoid confrontations with these ones... She mused to herself.

Vastiva

16-04-2005, 08:21

Still completely floored by Engred’s talking speech, Thana was thankful someone gave her something to do. She at once bowed to Zukie. “Yes, Ayid!”

She considered a moment. “This one believes a good translation would be ‘honored one’, or ‘honored guest’. We use it as a sign of respect, Ayid, inasmuch as to refer to you as ‘candidate’ would be… gauche? Inappropriate?” She bites her lip a moment. “To be sure, Ayid, one of much higher position could easily use ‘candidate’, or other words, as they pleased.”

She looks a moment after Medea and makes a quick sign with her hand in the air, off to the side. In a moment, another silver-and-white liveried individual is hurrying over. She speaks quickly to her in something that sounds like Russian being mixed with Swahili in a blender set on “frappe”, though “bath” and “news” are definitely words used. The reply is equally unintelligible.

“If it pleases you, a screen can be quickly placed in a stall, for your browsing? It will not be paper, my apologies, but it will be waterproof and the contents the same?” Thana looks a little hopeful as she chances a glance up at Zukie.

The other servant moves with gusto into the shower, reappearing in a few moments to walk swiftly toward Medea and Engred.

“Your pardon, Ayids, but Rumeha is holding a shower for you for the moment, though – if it please – this one is not sure how it would be if another…uhm… guest decided that one was to be theirs, if one could perhaps suggest some… alacrity?”

By the time they move over, Zukie is already installed in her own – well – stall, along with a wide piece of plastic stuck to the wall. Upon this flexscreen is each and every page of the “Vaari Voice” – touching any opens that page to full size. The controls are rather simple – magnify, forward, back – and touching the screen brings that area to focus. Playing a bit, she can access the “intranet version” of any paper in Vastiva – though, to be sure, papers are available in the full spectrum of Terran languages, which makes many of them unintelligible.

What can be gleaned from the business section – Vastivan businesses are involved in a strong “love/hate” relationship with each other, and all but make war on each other – politely, in verbiage, price and staff, but war nonetheless. Computer companies are the most bloodthirsty – open advertisements for hackers are found.
There are several mentions of arms competitions; publishing appears to be very strong, along with – surprisingly – an immensely powerful “native crafts” section. Handmade anything boasts price structures that boggle the mind, and artists of many kinds – though primarily chefs – hold positions usually held by actors in other nations.

Actors, on the other hand, are given barely a glance. Which figures, as the “What’s On” section shows 5000 channels, again in a plethora of languages and from a variety of nations. “Linguistics and Culture” channels are also present in numbers. One notable channel is Vastiva News Network, channel 722 – and it is “all news, all the time, direct from the Herald’s”.

Museums boast of new collections, the comic pages are their own section, and services advertised for go from the mundane to the bizarre. It is also very quickly apparent prostitution – both sexes – is entirely legal, and apparently embraced with few limitations.

What is nearly completely lacking is any mention of legal proceedings where business is concerned. There are no postings of lawsuits, no mention of fines or investigations. Indeed, any sort of government involvement – beyond the mentioning of new businesses given licenses and some discussion of imports and exports – is absent.

Criminal and civil lawsuits, on the other hand, enjoy their own pages, occasionally in brutal detail, once concluded. In the case of criminal cases with a sentence of “execution”, there is an offering at the bottom for a “live action” copy of the execution in progress.

Surprisingly to her, there is also a page of “Candidates Still In the Running” listed, simply a list of names along with links to various gambling establishments with intranet addresses, and advertisements for “Candidate Trading Cards – Collect all 192! New cards added daily!”.

The actual cards aren’t available in the newspapers, and the intranet connections do not work from the flexscreen, apparently meant for connection by some other device (This is a technological “viewer” of sorts, and limited. She can’t “browse the web”, only newspapers).

OOOC: “Thana” means “Thankfulness or Praise” for the curious.

And yep, Volt, you got it in one.

Vastiva

16-04-2005, 09:04

Enroute to the Vastivan maglev….

Ghareebah – “Gary” – looks a tad surprised. “It is a short ride by maglev, though if you are truly starved, we might stop somewhere… ah, sorry,” she recovers, “figure of speech.” An apologetic smile is offered to Ka'tal.

She looks out of the window. “We’re less then five minutes from the station, and the ride from there is probably less then fifteen more minutes – I do have a bar of halvah if that would help in the meantime?” She offers the sweet treat completely nonchalantly; a look at the package shows it to be military standard gear.

These prove to be accurate depictions; the two are efficiently moved to the maglev, where they are met by two green robes who – in typical silent fashion – bring them and their luggage aboard, strap both in, and ride to the “Red Entrance” with them.

There, they are met by Drayaa, dressed in what at first appears to be of deep blue cloth richly embroidered with silver runes and patterns; but as she moves the inside and lining became more in evidence as fur and leather cunningly worked to allow full freedom of movement with little availability of the wearer to the elements. Her boots are decorated with a double strand of silver thread woven into patterns mimicking those on the burnoose; a double looping anklet of small silver coins and runestones adorns her left boot. Topping the ensemble off, a blue-white headcloth with silver ribbon entwined within and without.

“Ab-shalom and greetings, Lady Neira Vektori. Welcome to the Palace of Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din. Please, enter – we shall see to your things.”

She leads them up the stairway to the richly decorated hallway with many doors, several with brass plates – “Please follow, these rooms are… unsuitable.” – and through the guarded double doors to the plain gray stone “third dining room” beyond, where she stops and considers both of them.

“Lady Vektori, if you would, a moment?” She stops, amid the rich scent of cooking roast and baking bread lusting out of the kitchens. “We are not sure of which to make your… accommodations for the time being. If you would choose?

“One the one hand, we have the Harem proper, where you would indeed be spending much of your time, should your application be accepted. On the other hand, we could put you – and your escort – in the Royal Apartments, where you would receive some privacy. Or we could, by fiat, order a suite of rooms in the Burj Singinkatu for you, for the time being. Whichever you desire, it shall be done at once.”

She covers her mouth a moment. “Oh, apologies. In any, we shall have a meal sent up for both of you, whatever you desire. My apologies again, I was not aware you were famished…”

OOC: “Red Entrance” Repeat:
Red stone is dominant, but brass designs and inlays are evident in the tiles on the floor, the facings of stone, and even the subtle light sources above. The whole nearly glows with impressions of flames, an impression not reduced in the least by the two guards in what could best be described as Mongol armor standing by the only evident exit – a set of red stone stairs leading upwards.

Krowemoh

16-04-2005, 09:06

Zukie returned the bow. "Thank you for explaing that to me."

She considered her offer of the viewscreen. "Sure, that works for me too. Make it so."

As the arrangements are made, Zukie turns as if to leave, then halts suddenly, looking to the servant girl. "You did a fantastic job. Don't be so nervous, okay? You're doing great!" She flashed her another smile, and went on her way. Kera gave her a curtsy as she passed, and followed Zukie to the showers.

Inside, Zukie disrobes, as does Kera, and both enter the stall. Kera adjusts the water to a tempature suitable for Zukie, whilest she carefully sweeps the business section, making sure to catch every little nuiance, every bit of information she could.

Once the water was at a comfortable Tempature, Kera began to bathe Zukie, lathering her body up with some strawberry scented body wash and shower poof. During this, Zukie continued to read the screen, every so often turning the page, then turning back sometimes to cross-reference information from different ads and articles. "Hmm... I do believe I'll need the last few month's issues too. Kera, don't forget to use conditioner on my hair. Last time you forgot, and it got all frizzily. I don't like that." She chided Kera as she lathered some shampoo into her blonde hair.

"I won't." Kera replied, with a sigh as she massaged the cleanser into her hair.

Then, Zukie came to the mention of Trading Cards within the newspaper. "Hmmm... I wonder if I'll be able to get a couple copies of my card? Better check what the conversion rates are..."

Cadillac-Gage

16-04-2005, 15:05

The other servant moves with gusto into the shower, reappearing in a few moments to walk swiftly toward Medea and Engred.

“Your pardon, Ayids, but Rumeha is holding a shower for you for the moment, though – if it please – this one is not sure how it would be if another…uhm… guest decided that one was to be theirs, if one could perhaps suggest some… alacrity?”

By the time they move over, Zukie is already installed in her own – well – stall, along with a wide piece of plastic stuck to the wall. Upon this flexscreen is each and every page of the “Vaari Voice” – touching any opens that page to full size. ... (snip!)

"C'mon, Medea..." Engred plead, then, she headed for the shower indicated by the liveried staffer whom she thanked on the way.

Showers, are a wonderous thing. Baths are nice for getting relaxed and sleepy, but for washing away dirt, in Engred's opinion, there is nothing quite like a shower. She undid her braid in the bathing room, undressed, (Folding her clothes item-by-item and stacking them neatly-they would be laundered before she wore them again, but she was still a Stahlhaver-everything has a right way to be done, and clothing is not tossed randomly about, making a mess for others to trip over.)
Engred lathered up with shampoo and soap under water set to a temperature just-short-of-scalding (She likes her showers hot, perhaps a legacy of coming from a nation that is always cold, dark, and dreary.) And for a while, at least, under the beating water, she started to relax, and remember...

the water was beating down on her, she turned and scrubbed another portion, while her memory played on.

"Deep Earth sources can be found in stone laid down by the sea, or the wind, in the early ages of the world-Gwarrahowwheh stones, like the one you call 'shale' or 'mudstone' are best, while earth-bone and ocean-bone are the worst-the ones your kind call 'granite' and 'Basalt' have little within them if any." Hrowll-Chmee said, "metal, while it is useful, will usually conduct it away from you, especially in the native form... try to detect the iron in that rock." They were walking back to the Homestead Village-the Ancient would not go past the first fencelines, but he would go all the way to them. Engred focused, reaching out...and felt the spiderweb of emptiness in the stone. "It feels... blank, there are pieces , but that is all..."
The ancient purred approval. "Good, you learn well-remember that feeling. when the metal is thick enough, you may not be able to sense much of anything at all-density matters, and that is why your ancestors believed that metal-armour and metal weapon could save them from the uses of the Hrrowll... it was nonsense, of course-but only because enough skill can find the cracks in the blankness, or a sharp mind can feel the emptiness move-even into the future, or past, or at the long distances. You will never be very good at using the Hrowll to strike, but you can use it for knowledge, you can reach it to defend-this is your talent... now you must go back inside your world for a time, I will see you again before I walk my last trail."

Engred refocused on the real world, and turned the water 'off', fully rinsed. "Thick walls of volcanic stone, insulated with metal, That's it." she muttered, the Harem's inside the bones of the mountain! No wonder I can't sense anything!! She stepped out and towelled off. With so many people concentrated, I missed the obvious! what a dunce... There was a nice, fluffy, bathrobe. She pulled it on, rebraided her hair, and nosed around to see what Zukie was looking at, and whether Medea had bothered to listen...

Scandavian States

16-04-2005, 21:33

Sadira has just a bit of bad luck right then - in full view of the others.

"Oh, but of course I'll help," smiles Ariel.

She then proceeds to pull the cords that much tighter and puts a knot in the middle of it.

"How clumsy of me! I shouldn't think you'll have to be cut out of that now! Tsk tsk! Sorry about that, I'll see about getting someone to help you out."

The muttered bitch as she walks off is just barely audible.

The whoosh of air exiting her lungs and the painful strain on her ribs was bad enough, but the sarcastic tone and the muttered invective nearly force Sadira to kill the simpering slut. She, just barely, managed to reign in her temper and instead focused on breathing. Analyzing the situation, she realized that she hadn't even been facing that girl when she had asked Zukie and Kera for help. Sadira could imagine that whoever the bitch had been, she had probably been one of the... things that had been so adament in relieving pent up stress. Not that that stopped Sadira's blood from simmering or otherwise made her think twice about exacting some form of revenge.

No, Sadira thought, the bitch'll pay, how is merely the question.

Krioval

16-04-2005, 21:48

Medea had in fact heard the side conversations, and had followed the group to the showers. Once convinced she was alone and unlikely to be bothered for several minutes, she relaxed, and the tension visibly drained from her features. This is getting to be too much, she thought. Krioval is not a place where this bullshit would be tolerated. All the fakery would have ended with one word from Commander Raijin. Her memory accelerated in the direction of her first meeting with the Commander. That was before he was Commander, though, and she was only twelve at the time. She had become lost in Torokara running a simple errand, and had run into the soldier near the army base. Raijin had walked her to her destination, whereupon Medea had asked him to marry her, someday. She still remembered his response as if it had been yesterday. "A pretty girl like you won't want a man like me." The reason for that was obvious three months later, when the Dekker and Andros families were joined in one of the most elaborate weddings in Kriovalian history.

Fast forward twelve years. Medea Lakat had been arrested for killing her commanding officer, who had attempted to force himself on her. Be it Fate or simple good luck, Raijin had remembered the girl from that earlier encounter, and led her defense himself, clearing her of the charges, though she was forced to leave the military. "Go and find him," the Commander had said. Those words had been forgotten until the letter about the Vastivan harem had arrived.

Back in the showers, Medea's thoughts took off on another tangent, leaving the bittersweet memories behind. Could Krioval be behind my being here? On one hand, she hoped not. Medea Lakat liked her freedom, scarce as it was sometimes. On the other hand, if she were under the aegis of Raijin Dekker, she was practically assured of safety. Unless the government of Vastiva is changed somehow. Shaking her head to dispel the random conspiracy theories for a momeny, Medea finished her shower, donned a soft robe, and retied her hair using one of several clean red ribbons she had brought along with her.

Krowemoh

16-04-2005, 23:53

((OOC: If I got the wrong idea here, lemme know and I'll edit accordingly, mmkay? Hope you don't mind the very brief character control.
EDIT: Made the appropriate edits. I hope. >_>))

Engred entered the two's shower stall. At first, Zukie only flashed her a confused 'Nyo?' Both her and Kera were still very naked, Kera in the process of bathing herself while Zukie continued to skim the business section a third time, a towel in one hand, as if she had meant to cover herself, then forgot in mid-motion.

Engred's face flushed a deep red hue at seeing both of their nude forms, "Um... S-sorry! I didn't know you weren't dressed." She bowed hurredly and just as quickly left the stall. Zukie raises one hand again, as if that'd magically stop her somehow.

"You don't have to go... Darn. She left again. Humans are weird. It's just my body... Kera, do you think she thinks I'm terribly ugly?"

Kera blinks. "Of course not, Maiden. You are a shining example of the natural beauty of Nekos. Humans just have issues with the naked form. Something to do with their bible, or what have you."

Kera then turned back to enjoy the hot water running from the shower. Usually, when she bathes Zukie, she was lucky to get luke-warm water to bathe herself with, but the Vastivan showers, the water was always hot. Hmmmm! This feels so good! I could get used to this. I hope the Harems always have hot water.

Her ears twitched. She could hear some of the others outside. One such was the girl Sadria. Noting that she needed help, she shoots a glance to Zukie, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around herself as she shuts the water off. "Zukie, may I go outside for a bit?" She asked as politely as she could.

"Hmmm? Oh, sure sure. Hurry back." She said, waving off the catgirl.

Covered somewhat by the towel, Kera quietly steps out of the stall, and makes her way over to Sadria, whose dress top seems a bit too tight. "Umh... That looks too tight. Want me to try and cut it?" She bares her feline incissors...

Scandavian States

17-04-2005, 00:28

Breathing heavily, she nodded and said, "I would be very, very grateful if you could undo this. I don't think I ever really appreciated unobstructed breathing until just now, but I've decided that it is a nice thing."

Krowemoh

17-04-2005, 00:44

Kera nods quickly, stepping behind Sadria. "Okay. Oi. Umh, okay... Lemme try and see if I can undo this..." She messes with some of the strings, but the courset is tied too tight to be undone the usual way. She wrinkles her nose. "It looks like I'll have to cut this line here." She plucks a string between her fore finger and thumb. "I don't have anything to cut with, so I'll use my teeth. If I bite you, it's an accident."

With the warning in place, Kera gently grasps Sadria by the hips, tilting her head to one side as she places her mouth on the noted string, placing it right on her sharp incissors. She grides this between them, a few times accidently nipping Sadria in the process, but nothing painful.

The string shreds under her teeth, and breaks, snapping free. Kera then pulls the other string away, loosening the garment. "There. All done." She steps back and bows.

Vastiva

17-04-2005, 03:53

Both Medea and Engred's clothes - and those removed by Zukie and Kera - have been removed, replaced by robes and towels.

Very efficient, these "harem ghosts in silver and white". If anyone watches for any length of time, when someone enters a shower or bath, the clothes are removed - personal items left behind - and a bathrobe and towel left in their place.

The lights above begin to "sunset" from pure clean light through gentle reds and golds and down into a simmering twilight - still light enough to see by, but somewhat darker. Views on the pillars mimic this particular event, showing sunsets all over the world (obviously not Vastiva - the sun went down days ago and won't be back for months).

The same "harem ghosts" are busilly making up each set of beds, comfortably arrayed in light cloths to furs, with each bedsheet lightly perfumed with lavender.

Ariel and crew appear to be playing cards on one bed, the basket securely underneath.

Scandavian States

17-04-2005, 04:34

"Thank you," Sadira reponds, holding the dress in place so as not to embarass her and the Neko. Half-running to the bath she quickly divested herself of her clothes. The water was still acceptably hot, but she had missed her chance to make a bubble bath. Sighing to herself, she jumped into the almost-pool and began to make slow, liesurely laps of the tub. A quarter of an hour later she decided that it was time to finally wash herself. Grabbing her soap, she had always preferred the liquid variety, Sadira removed the stopper from the bottle fashioned from cinnabar and poured a generous dollop onto her sponge and worked it into a rich lather, thoroughly enjoying the smell of Saffron that it invoked. After thoroughly clensing herself she picked up another but similar bottle, the only difference being that this one was made out of Osmium. This one contained shampoo that had a hint of citrus in its smell, although Sadira knew the scent was in fact ginger, and after washing and rinsing twice she picked up the second bottles twin, which contained a conditioner that had the same faint scent to it. After going through the lather and rinse routine one more time she pushed herself out of the bath.

Picking up a towel she decided not to go through the long routine of fully drying her hair and instead made a half-hearted effort before wrapping her hair up in the towel. After that, she quickly put on her pajamas, consisting of a silk short-sleeved shirt and pants which were roomy but did absolutely nothing ot hide her figure. The most outstanding thing about them, besides their obvious quality, was the fact that when the light struck the back of her shirt just right one could make out the Saleh family crest with the usualy effects denoting her rank within the nobility. That such a display obviously marked her as nobility was obvious to anybody who knew anything of Imperial culture, but the sheer workmanship and quality of such simple clothes made it equally obvious that she was either personally very wealthy and important, which was true, or that her clothing had been a gift from somebody who was, which was also true.

Although Sadira hadn't planned on it being so, she had no doubt that whoever the bitch from earlier had been, she would resent such a display even more from Sadira. It wasn't normally like her, or any Imperial noble, to make such overt displays, but in this case she would make an exception.

Findhorn

17-04-2005, 04:52

Myfanwy woke, responding more to the change in altitude than to the exceedingly polite urgings of the flight attendants. Damn! She had intended to think this whole magic thing through, but instead she'd dozed all the way.

Bouncing to her feet, she narrowly avoided crunching her head into the chin of the woman who had been trying to wake her.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!"

"Don't be. I admire your resilience."

Myfanwy looked down, embarrassed. What a way to start her bid for acceptance: poured into the aircraft totally drunk. And these people were probably observant People of the Book, she suddenly realised. Which meant they were non-drinkers. Ohhhhh my.

"No, I'm serious," the woman smiled. "I used to be able to come around after a bender just like that. But once you pass 30, the hangovers start to creep up on you. My advice is, make the most of it while you can."

Myfanwy smiled in return. Whew! So they bent the rules a bit. Or maybe she was just being nice to the foreigner. Whatever, it made her feel better. She scrabbled for her luggage, swung on her back-pack, grasped her guitar firmly and waited for the door to be unfastened.

Krioval

17-04-2005, 05:56

Medea noted the "sunset" with a certain level of surprise. Whatever time of day it felt like, sunset was not it. Raising her voice slightly, she called out, "Does anybody here have the local time?" Her watch would have automatically adjusted to the time by itself, but that required a global position. Middle of the afternoon, she finally decided. It should be the middle of a beautiful warm summer day in Valak - not the middle of a monthlong icy night.
----------
Meanwhile, in Krioval:

"Explain how this got printed." The Commander looked at the other Directors with an expression of mild surprise and less-than-mild annoyance as he threw down a newspaper, whose prime headline read Knock 'Em Dead: Lakat Joins Vastivan Harem. "Weren't they told not to cover this for another two weeks? Is that really too much to ask?"

Koro Vartek returned the Raijin's gaze. "They jumped the gun. And I specifically told that paper not to do it. I'm as shocked as you, to be honest, though the 'Daily News' has a history of defying these requests."

"Fuck. Well, let them know that they won't be covering the Festival of Fighters this year. No, better yet, don't let them know. Turn them away at the press gate, and if they bother to cause a scene, arrest them. Now, damage control."

Darvek piped up. "Well, Raijin, it just so happens that three reporters for that paper were mugged last night and their possessions destroyed. And the main office was vandalized this morning, though only one office reported damage. Go figure." He looked at the others with a modest degree of satisfaction.

"Good. The 'Army' serves its purpose. No injuries?"

"None whatsoever, and property damage was minimal."

The Commander nodded. "I'm sure Vastiva is going to want me to explain why I neglected to mention that little detail," he said, pointing to the paragraph dealing with Medea's military history. "And could the damn paper have blown the whole thing any further out of proportion? Hell fire! Tell the Paladin Media group to run a story about inaccuracies in the 'Daily News'. Any other crises to deal with today?"

Vastiva

17-04-2005, 06:03

A "harem ghost" appears at her arm. "Please you, Ayid, it is ten past meridian local. If you require aid in rest, it can be provided - or we do have lights, books, entertainments, whatever you wish?"

A closer look shows it is the same "ghost" as before, and she is looking... well, at Medea's nose, if that's any improvement.

***

The Herald's office received all it's copies earlier then most. The Kriovalian paper seemed to migrate its way to the top of the stack - and the copy made its way into the office of the Chief Herald within minutes.

Had she been in her office, there would have been an outcry.

That another copy was most certainly enroute to the Sultan only meant it would be offset for a time.

Vastiva

17-04-2005, 06:04

“Myfanwy Mhairi ap Hwyl?” The question is rather ridiculous, as Myfanwy is the only passenger to come off the plane – for that matter, the only passenger on the plane in the first place.

The woman facing her, however, pays no attention to the bizarre condition and instead bows her head gently, touching forehead, lips, then heart, and spreading her hand wide before her.

Deftly, she catches her glasses before they spill to the floor, and resettles them on her well-lined face before continuing.

Her smile never loses a whit.

“Ab-shalom and greetings, candidate. In the name of our Sultan, Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din, I – Nivia Alix von Cohen, Chief Herald of Vastiva – do invite you and bid you welcome to our nation.”

The group of onlookers maintains its distance, though whether that is in respect to the woman in her tan burnoose; out of the presence of her four “escorts” who wear green robes, facecloths, and head coverings – and carry both long curved swords and short, vicious looking firearms; or the attentions of the many black uniformed snipers on the terrace above – is not clear.

Still, the woman pays no heed to any of the goings on around her – to her world, this is a simple meeting of generations. “All your luggage will be seen to – though if you wish to carry that instrument case, you are most certainly welcome to do so. Would you care for a repast before we continue our journey, or perhaps,” and she takes a delicate sniff before continuing, “something to drink?”

Krioval

17-04-2005, 06:18

"So, are we going to tell them?" Darvek asked.

Raijin looked about to answer, but Koro jumped in first. "We can't. If we do, it makes it look like this is a huge deal to us. If it's a huge deal to us, it makes Medea Lakat look like a government agent. And in that case, we have a problem."

The Commander then intervened in the discussion. "As it is, Vastiva and Krioval can coexist in the same markets by virtue of the markets themselves. We don't try to upset basic supply and demand. If it looked like Krioval is trying to destabilize Vastiva, it'd be an economic cold war. Those are messy. So, when the inevitable call comes in, we're as surprised as them."

"So it's basically, 'yes, we know there's a Kriovalian candidate' but 'no, we don't really know the details', and that'll work?" Darvek asked.

"It's going to have to," Raijin and Koro said almost simultaneously. Raijin continued. "But why is it that whenever I try to protect someone, it almost always ends up like this?" With that, he stood and walked out the door.

"When does Kiv get back?" Darvek asked.

"A couple weeks," Koro answered. "Think that's the reason?"

"Gods, yes. Let's see if we can keep him from going completely ballistic, huh?"

Cadillac-Gage

17-04-2005, 06:48

[ooc: Krohmoh, just edit a little embarassment on Engred's part-her people are kind of... Provincial-while she could deal with her roomie bringing girlfriends by at all hours, and she's not a prude, she still has fairly strong nudity taboos imprinted in her psyche-she'd at minimum blush, stammer, and leave.]

Well, that was embarassing... Engred thought, hurrying out after her brief conversation.
The main room was decorated in a 'sunset', and Engred went looking for a private place to get ready for bed, after stopping off at her carryon (which looked untampered-with) for a set of sleeping clothes.

"Sleeping clothes" in this case, meant shorts and a tee-shirt-the Racy Lingerie would have to wait for more permanent quartering, while the woolens were not really appropriate in the full-climate-control of the Harem.

She dug through the bag, finally choosing one that might keep the pranks down. 'Todos Santos Ladies' Self-Defense League' on the front, and 'instructor' in friendly letters on the back-a gift from Magritte for the hours spent teaching battered wives how to be un-battered divorcees.
It still being early, she kept her hair in its traditional single-Braid-a style apparently well-out-of fashion in the rest of the world, but practical.
she lugged the carryon to one of the empty beds, sat down on it, and pulled her cards out to see if the extra 'almighty' card was an extra, dropped into the box at the factory, of if she was, indeed, short one useful card.

It was a spare.

She sighed, and began playing single-hand Matra and keeping an eye out.

Marshall of swords, Fortress of Cups, Knight of Staves... the cards were stacking oddly tonight- Aunt Therese would say something significant about that. Of course, she always saw 'significant' things in the cards... and none of them were ever true. She chuckled to herself contentedly. Fires are better for seeing anyway. Cards are just printed paper-board.
She was winning this hand-and then, the grinning, malicious idiot-god face showed up.
"Suvet!" she muttered under her breath, as the accumulated points vanished into a string of 'misfortunes'.

She reshuffled the cards, and began again.

[OOC: This has NO Significance-unless it does. Engred's just playing 'solitaire' with a deck of oddly-designed cards. That's it. Nothing to see here...]

Vastiva

17-04-2005, 07:30

Slipping through the glittering blue-green,
Feels like silk against me,
Treasures lost that I have seen
Found them deep under the sea.
Swim with the fish and dance with a dolphin,
Swirling, whirling, floating free,
Hear the beat and find the rhythm,
Of life deep under the sea.
Sliding, gliding, part the weeds,
Glinting gold, sparkling jewels,
Nothing there that I need,
Man's treasures are not cool.
Splish splash, slash through a wave,
Feel the air whisper through my hair,
Damp dark my secret cave,
Real treasure hidden there.
Pearls that glow and glimmer,
Grown for none other than Neptune
I'm such a fine swimmer,
I'll receive a great boon.
To walk on land with legs for a day,
Feel the beat and find the rhythm,
Not that I would want to stay,
I just want to try them.
When the moon shines bright,
I know where I'll be
In the place that's right..
Deep under the sea.

Within her pool, the mermaid bowed her head slightly, smiling up at Sinjin, who sat in lotus beside, listening to the last notes fade against the walls.

“Very interesting indeed,” The Sultan nodded and gave short applause. “It is indeed true your voice is most… enchanting?”

She smiles, barely shoulders out of the small pool, her hair a blossom behind her. “…thank you…”

“If I may, why did you wish this position?”

She laughs, a gentle ring of silver bells on the ankle of a dancer. “… curiosity, play, opportunity… your land works well with the underwater, I wished to see who… and ask why…”

He sits back and considers a moment. “I would suppose, because when our ancestors arrived, the water was as important to their survival as the underlands. We have never forgotten that – nor have we ever tried to be more then good guests. I do not think Mother Ocean would have us as anything else.”

She laughs again. “… you know of mother ocean, father sky?”

“I do read.”

Her head tilted to one side, considering him. “… you must demonstrate for me some time…”

Well of course, what would you write on underwater, sand? “Most certainly. Are you comfortable?”

She nodded. “…yes, very…” Another laugh. “…you are not…”

“Ah. It shows?”

She gave an elegant shrug. “…the water ripples, a storm is brewing…”

And who is a mermaid going to tell? “My apologies. I had come here to discern if the tales my staff has been telling about you were true…”

She gave another laugh, and stretched her upper torso out of the water.

It took a moment for Sinjin to recover. “*cough* Yes, well, I see they are.”

That merited a giggle. “… they are not what was on your mind…” It was a statement, not a question.

“No, that is true, I did not come here to… sightsee?”

Another giggle.

He patted his M-TCOD. “I have here a notification of shipment from Gowa Industries for just under three thousand metric tons of assorted cheeses – ‘sent with our compliments’. Voltarum alludes towards a drop in our import costs, also without over reason. House Taesdrin of Tanara gives more tons of samples, I just wonder when – or if, granted – the other shoe will drop. And for whom.”

She simply watched him.

“If it were not that most of the candidates appear to be taking themselves out of the running, this would be a truly complex undertaking.” He clicks his tongue. “A brawl in the Apartments. A souse. A liar - a good half have already excluded themselves, even before we signaled sleep.” He sighed. “And one piles up coins for no good reason, even made a bed out of them. That simply won’t do.”

The mermaid looked into her pool. “… your staff put the chest of coins I have in here…. It bubbles…”

Sinjin nodded. “They have something of a sense of humor at times.”

At that, she looked at it again. “….does it laugh?...”

It didn’t, and he bit back his. “….It would take longer to explain. But it looks good there.”

She nodded, lowering herself back into the water. “...what will you do with the coin girl?...”

“Tomorrow, she’ll be put on a plane with every coin she collected, and sent home.”

“…a gift?...”

“Of a sort. And a message. The pile she collected – I spend more then that on food for my staff in a day. I wish her well with her…fortune. And the knowledge if she had been wiser, much more could have been hers.”

“…clever that…are the rest as clever?”

Hmmmm…. “Indeed,” he rose to his feet. “I shall have to let you know.”

OOC Note: The number of girls in the Harem has not decreased, save by the one who was escorted out.

Vastiva

17-04-2005, 07:39

At seeing Sadira’s crest, one of Ariel’s cronies says something to Ariel and points – at which point the red-haired amazon turns her head.

A moment later, her eyes narrow.

A moment after that, in a falsetto voice, easily loud enough for everyone to hear. “Well, well, look girls – someone is trying to buy their way into the harem with a bird and no body.”

“Maybe her brothers found her too ugly to… keep?” comes the laughing reply from another of the group. The rest join in quickly.
“Maybe she’s the wicked stepsister.”
“Ugly enough.”
“I wonder where she keeps her singing rats.”
“Near her heart, obviously. That, or she’s sneaking oranges from the kitchens.”

General laughter follows from the group – the verbal harassment continues.

A quick look around the room shows most of the room to have buried their heads in their pillows – or moved away.

Scandavian States

17-04-2005, 08:04

Sadira turns and considers the bitch carefully. After letting her eyes bore into Ariel's for a moment she replies just as loudly, in a lift common to Scandavians, but with an edge of steel that isn't, "And what, pray tell, brought you to that conclusion? A man like the Sultan, who considers a few million mere pocket change, has no need for my money. No, I came here to experience a new culture and some, how do you say, fun.

"However, I daresay you have little to your name and are jelous of any who are wealthy or previleged in their birth. I rather suspect that the only reason you are here is because you wish to be associated with someone in power and with a fortune so vast that he would negligently give you in a second what you wouldn't see in your entire lifetime if you saved every red cent. Your hypocracy disgusts me, and I pity those simpering fools who have gathered themselves around you, no doubt your corruption will rub off on them and destroy what purity and benevolence they have left."

With that, Sadira flashed her teeth at the one she had dubbed "The Bitch", it wasn't a smile but a baring of teeth in a challenge to Ariel, and then she stormed off.

[At this point Sadira's internally begging Ariel to react physically. Whether you oblidge is, of course, up to you.]

Vastiva

17-04-2005, 08:54

...and, softly at first, but then rising as a storm, comes applause from the many other beds in the room.

Ariel's fury can be felt as pure firestorm, but - for right now - she does nothing.

Quietly, she notifies her group. "Forget the cat. Use it on the snotty one. Later, after she's asleep... I'll fix her wagon."

Findhorn

17-04-2005, 12:51

Myfanwy's heart had leapt at the sight of the tan robes, and the errant glasses completed the picture. But no, the tan wasn't homespun brown, and this wasn't Mother Mirrim. However, given the eloquence of that single sniff, the woman before her obviously belonged to the same worldwide class.

She's comfortable in her authority and she's seen everything people like me can pull, Myfanwy thought ruefully.

In which case, there was no point in making excuses, or protesting that it was totally out of character for her to hang one on like that -- in any case, if it weren't for the fact that the singer rarely gets the chance to, I'd probably have hung on plenty like that. Besides, everyone at the Abbey was big on taking responsibility for your own actions. Sigh. Ah, well.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to sit for a few minutes to get my land legs back," Myfanwy said. "And maybe there's something Vastivan you could recommend to get rid of the terrible taste in my mouth? Something fizzy and stomach-settling? I was a little over-enthusiastic in my farewells."

She suspected it was terribly improper to ask such a thing of a high official, but the woman showed no offence, merely summoning subordinates with her eyes and leading Myfanwy to a tiny private lounge. She sat collectedly at precisely the same second as Myfanwy tumbled into a long-legged knot in the other chair. The move was not lost on Myfanwy, who recognised its innate politeness: this way there was no uncomfortable fussing over who sat first.

Something that looked cool and blessedly safe appeared before them, served so skillfully it seemed to happen without human agency. "Serbeti visne," the Herald said. "Sour cherry drink."

"Yes, indeed," agreed Myfanwy, spluttering. Was this the local equivalent of "go wash your mouth out with soap"? Well, it would certainly overcome any other smells on her breath. If she ever got her breath back.

"Um... look," she began apologetically, "I really don't want to give offence, and I've read everything I could get my hands on, but it's not the same as talking to somebody. I was wondering if ... you know, not to take up anybody's time, but maybe just while we're driving in to wherever it is ... would there be anybody who's not doing anything important who could spare a bit of time to just, sort of, warn me what else NOT to do? I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be asking an important person like yourself about such trivial stuff, but I figure the sooner I start, the fewer toes I'll step on, and ... well ... uh ..."

She faltered to a stop under the calm woman's impassive gaze.

Cadillac-Gage

17-04-2005, 14:24

Engred stopped laying the cards down, and looked at her bandaged hand. ow. gingerly, she unwrappedi it. Hours of neglect had not helped matters, and her cleaning ritual had washed the ointment (whatever wonderful stuff it was) off the burns.
She could now see that some of them were quite deep. I think I need a doctor. She looked around, seeking one of the livried staff.

The Voltarum

17-04-2005, 16:17

OOC: Sorry this is so late...busy day yesterday =)

“Ab-shalom and greetings, Lady Neira Vektori. Welcome to the Palace of Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din. Please, enter – we shall see to your things.”

"Thank you, very much. I am pleased to be here."

Neira follows Drayaa, trying to draw in all the magnificience she sees around her. By the time they reach the kitchen, she feels like she is in sensory overload. The smells fill her head, and her stomach rumbles.

Daryaa turns and regards Neira. “We are not sure of which to make your… accommodations for the time being. If you would choose?..."

She goes on to describe her three choices. Neira listens intently, tyring to keep her stomach from growling. From what she knew about Vastivian customs, she was pretty sure the hotel was a bad idea. Probably an insult, if she remembered right. As for the other two choices, she was rather unsure... the apartments sounded safer... more time to relax, more privacy, and she probably wouldn't have to deal with the other candidates much. With one hundred something candidates and only 51 spots, she was sure it would be a tad cutthroat. But then again, if she were to prove herself, she could not act like the cowering little girl, and she really did want to see what her future dwellings could look like. It was her first tough decision, and one she wish she didn't have to make.

As she was thinking, she must have been a little too obvious about her hunger. Drayaa spoke up: “Oh, apologies. In any, we shall have a meal sent up for both of you, whatever you desire. My apologies again, I was not aware you were famished…”

"Thank you, that would be much appreciated. Any kind of fish, if you have it available, and something for Ka'tal if its not too much trouble..." She paused. "I think I have made my choice. I will go and see the Harem Proper."

****

Finneus Rootgear was a strikingly handsome man, whose voice was described as both authoritative and charming at the same time. He had always wanted to be in the entertainment "biz" and had succeeded rather quickly at his endeavors. One stumbling block was always before him though. Finneus Rootgear was not the best on-screen name. He needed something smooth, something that rolled off the tongue, and something that was unforgettable. Enter Guy Smiley.

Guy set down the phone. His boss, and the Minister, were quite clear. This was more than just getting the scoop. The flames had to be fanned, information must be secured... and the Vektori noble had to be accepted into the Sultan's Harem. He needed to do whatever he could to help that along. But first he needed information. He needed a plan.

It was just at that moment that a knock came at the door. About time... He opened it for his cameraman Al, whose real name was so long and had so many vowels that Guy had given up long ago at pronouncing it.

"Heya Guy!! Have a nice trip, buddy?"
Guy smiled a bit. "It was alright. I just got a call from the boss. And the Minister."
"Really? Old Lady Jassan actually called you herself? heh, I thought she had underlings to do that for her."
"In any case Al, we need to get going... we have a lot of... Al, are you listening to me?"
Al was preoccupied with something in his hand. "Oh, sorry Guy, just something I picked up in the airport... so funny, I just had to get them... get a load of these: Trading cards of the Harem candidiates!! And they even have odds on the back of them..."
This sparked Guy's attention. "Odds?" He swiped them from Al's hand, and flipped through a lilttle too haphazardly for Al's liking. Near the end he came across what he had been looking for... Lady Neira Vektori. He flipped to the back, and breathed a sigh of relief. "50% odds at being accepted Al. Looks like our job got a little easier. But still, I would like to use these for our advantage. If you need me, Ill be typing up a nice little story..."

***
The next morning, Premier Xerco Longbottom turned on Channel 13, and listened to the headline stories. He nearly spit his coffee back at the TV...

"... and the three legged dog is now all right. In other news, it seems the candidacy of Lady Neira Vektori for the Harem of the Sultan of Vastiva is all but a lock. Sources inside the country have told us of trading cards of the Harem candidates, each containing odds at being accepted. *cut to a picture of Neira's card* Lady Vektori's odds are 1 to 1, telling us even Vastiva thinks our fair noble will be accepted into the Harem. With two countries behind her, we ask, how could she not be accepted? Minister Jassan had this to say today, upon hearing the news: *a cut to the Minister, standing on the steps of the Great Hall (this is where the coffee almost flew)* "I certainly think this is an excellent sign for our Lady Neira. She is an outstanding girl, and the Sultan would be amiss to not see that and accept her. I.. we... are all very proud of her."....... In other news, Polar bears have been blamed for the destruction of the country of Yunghiun today..."

Gnufasur

18-04-2005, 05:13

The light began to dim, yet Sae didn't move. She remained watching, paying attention to those around her, trying to monitor everything at once.

The Dress Girl had gotten some help finally, in the form of another Neko cutting her garment strings. I wonder if that ruined the dress?

As the woman disappeared into the bath chambers, Sae diverted her attention to the Negative Aura woman and her group. They all seemed to be plotting against some, if not most, of the other girls in the room. Typical High school mindset. These types will never mature...

From a nuetral satnd point, she listened to the slandering the Negative Aura Woman and her group did against the Dress Woman as she came back out from the bath chambers, as well as the following lashback and clapping.

Wrinkling her nose, Sae finally moved. She stood silently, swiftly, without drawing attention to herself, then just as queitly moved to where the Dress Woman (Sadria) was, sitting cross-legged on the ground, her back to her. She spoke, quietly, just loud enough so that only she could hear. "Tonight, I would sleep with one eye open..." She said, taking a sheet of Spirit Paper and scribbling something on it as she spoke.

Her sentence finished, she murmured a short incantation over the slip of paper, empowering it with some of her own spirit energy. The writing on it glows a soft hue of blue for an instant, then returns to a normal non-glowing black color. She placed it on the ground and covertly slides it towards the Dress Woman. "... And I'd slap this on the forehead of the first person who came too near me as I slumber."

With that, she nods her head slowly, then rises, not looking to see if the woman takes the slip of Paper with the paralyzing spell on it. She relocates herself to a nearby wall, placing her back to it, and bowing her head into her chest, her shoulders and chest rising and falling rymthatically, as if she were sleeping already...

((OOC: Sae gave Sadria a sheet of Spirit Paper with a Paralyze spell on it. It's charged with her own spirit energy, so it'll work for anyone who uses it. Simply apply it to the forehead of your victim, and it'll halt their movement as long as the paper is in place. It's good for one use only. A very typical, and effective, Spirit Paper spell. :D But, with Vastiva's palace barriers, it'd probably just slow their movements to a near stand-still. >_> I dunno. Vasty, what's the official verdict here?))

-Ferris-

18-04-2005, 05:47

1: If you stare too long into the abyss, the abyss stares back into you.

The torches of the attendants faded away, and Constantine Grey was left in darkness. Down here there was never any light, save that which the attendants brought; and they never ventured into the inner sanctum itself.

As the sound of their footsteps vanished also, Constantine knelt before the well - moving from memory and feel, very careful never to touch the water where it dwelt. Even being down here was a risk. Being bound to the Nameless at all was a risk. The Autarchy had stood on the knife's edge for centuries, and very few outside House Grey knew it.

"I am here," he whispered. His voice echoed, shockingly loud, in the cylinder of the Inner Sanctum. "I, Autarch Grey, am here. I serve you."

The echoes died, and again all was silent. How long had he been here, staring into the well? Something - an afterimage, perhaps, or possibly something else entirely - twisted in the depths of his vision. He shut his eyes in horror - best not to see that, better never even to glimpse that - and realised he'd had them shut already. He didn't dare open them now.

"Autarch Grey."

The voice, liquid and sibilant as water over stones, hammered into his ears.

"I am here," he said again, and could not supress a thrill of terror. "What is it you want of me?"

Something unpleasantly like a hand touched the back of his neck, and something unpleasantly like lips brushed his.

"Autarch Grey," the voice whispered in his ear. "Grey Autarch after Grey Autarch after Grey Autarch, until the sky falls; that is my side of our bargain, Autarch Grey. I have fufilled it. So it is a very small thing I ask of you now, very small and easy for a little human.

"Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din. Send him a woman."

"Who?" The question passed his lips before he could stop it, followed by - even worse! - "Why?"

Something splashed in the well, and icy water drenched his face.

"Why? Why? Autarch Grey ... humans are like little bubbles rising in dark water. All your lives - everything you are - is constrained within the skin of the bubble. You know nothing of the waters all around you, you have not an inkling of the greater current or where it bears you - and you dare ask why? Autarch Grey, my little bubble, you could not comprehend the why of it.

"This shall suffice; it pleases me that this thing be done."

"Yes," Constantine replied. "It shall be done."

"Very good, little bubble. Very good."

There was silence once again, stretching for so long that he thought it must have sunk back into the depths. He stood, and turned to go.

"And, Autarch Grey?"

Constantine turned back abruptly. "Yes?"

"This woman, when you find her ... send her first to me."

2: Some things, money can't buy. For everything else, there's MasterCard.

It was late at night when Constantine emerged from the labyrinth beneath Ironspire, and he scrawled a note to himself about it before he retired to bed; things said by, and to, the Nameless had a habit of disappearing from the mind.

In the morning he found the note, and spoke to his seneschal about it; "Darian," he said, "Find out for me all you can about a ... Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Darian was a professional, a half-uncle inherited from his father. "Is this urgent?"

"A task was given to me by the Nameless," Constantine replied. "I must assume it is."

"I see." Closer in line to the throne than most, Darian knew of the Nameless and it's demands. "This task, will you be requiring further assistance with it?"

"Yes," Constantine replied. "This Sultan al-Din - the Nameless wants me to send him a woman."

"A woman. How odd! I'll see what I can find."

The morning passed with the usual trivia - approval of new aquisitions for the military, a debt anullment for a high-ranking member of House Valerian - but Constantine's mind was not with it, returning constantly to the Nameless in it's well. Several times he found himself rubbing the back of his neck, where it had touched him.

Finally Darian returned, bearing what he'd gleaned of this Sultan - primarily from the exotic computers (far faster than the vacuum-tube monstrosities native to Ferris) which monitored the world beyond the borders.

"I see," Constantine said, once Darian had explained the situation. "Our Sultan is looking to restock his harem - well, that makes things rather easier than just tying a bow on some woman and leaving her on his doorstep!"

"Yes," Darian said, "Although it appears that this may have been done without his knowledge as such ... he has been in "Htrae Miseria" for some time, only recently returning. His only public comment upon the situation has been a rather eloquent "no comment".

"So now he knows ... what now? If this has been done without his knowledge, is it then without his consent? I will not willingly displease the Nameless."

Darian shrugged. "I don't know," he replied, "But if we try and he rejects it, then it is hardly your fault, Your Majesty."

"I fear the Nameless is not so understanding." Constantine rubbed at the back of his neck. "Have you made any progress in finding someone we might send?"

"Hmmm." Darian proffered a sheaf of printouts, streaky printed photographs accompanied by close text. "The requirements are for women of both uncommon beauty and uncommon intellect; you own debt* (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=8700205&postcount=158) on many of the former, and some of the latter, but very few have both. Still, I've made a list."

Constantine scanned it. "There are Greys on this list!"

"Only one, and only half a one at that," Darian replied. "Margreta McKenzie was a somewhat famous singer a generation ago; one of your uncles bought her debt from the recording company which owned it, and the debt was later purchased by your father by fiat. Alexis McKenzie-Grey is, legally, an illegitimate cousin of Your Majesty; economically she owes some twelve million, seventy-nine thousand, three hundred and twenty-eight shards to you."

"That's not so much."

"Indeed not - she inherited some eighteen million. The intelligentsia regard her as an artist of no little talent."

"And this Sultan wants an artist?"

"Unless he would prefer a mathematician, or an accountant, she is probably the best we can find. And the Nameless, after all, did not specify."

"Very well. To whom do we send this application?"

To the attention of Raahmid Javani, Grand Vizier of the Sultanate of Vastiva, from His Most August Majesty, Autarch Constantine Grey, Lord of the Iron Domain, and Suzerain of the Marchlands;

Many greetings unto you and your lord.

It has come to our attention that the most eminent Sultan Sinjin al-Din seeks to increase the numbers of his harem through the infusion of foreign blood; although our two nations have had no previous relations, we wish to supply a candidate from the Domain.

Having reviewed the applicants avaliable to us, we have selected one Alexis McKenzie-Grey as a suitable prospect; her application and dossier are attached. Miss McKenzie-Grey is a most talented young artist of our realm, and we hope that you shall not find her wanting.

By mine own hand,

C. Grey

Post-script added by His Excellency Seneschal Darian Aldren-Grey;

I feel it necessary to explain what His Majesty has not; that this application comes not entirely by royal will alone. While we have endeavoured to fufill the terms you set, this application is the result of a command from an entity known in Ferris as "the Nameless".

Why the Nameless has commanded that this be done I cannot say - it is no way human and it's reasons are it's own - save to assure you that I do not believe it means malice. Such has not, historically, been it's way.

However, if it's commands are not carried out, it may feel inclined to abrogate certain ancient pacts between House Grey and itself; thus I implore you to accept this application.

I trust in your discretion,

Darian A. Grey

Vastiva

18-04-2005, 05:50

As the magically charged paper touches the inlayed tiles, it begins to smoke. A moment later, it smoulders, then crackles, then bursts into a flare of flame - leaving only ash behind.

OOC: Well, that was an interesting way to find out about some of the effects of the Palace walls...

Scandavian States

18-04-2005, 06:09

Sadira had planned on "sleeping" in a half-conscience state for the night, coupled with the upcoming rest, would allow her to not only wake at dawn but be alert when she did so. She knew that if The Bitch tried something she would have to take pre-emptive action before it succeeded, which would more than likely mean sending Ariel and perhaps any number of her thugs to the local hospital ward. The mysterious woman and her paper had offered a brief moment of hope that such an outcome could be adverted, until it turned into cinder. I do not believe that woman intentionally deceived me, thought Sadira, so why did the paper diffuse so quickly? Damnit, it had to be the palace, or otherwise somebody is tampering. But if that's so, I doubt the Mysterious One would have failed to detect whoever it was. It must be this damn place.

Anybody who was an empath or could otherwise sense feelings would notice the consternation radiating from Sadira, but outwardly she showed no emotion. Giving herself over to the inevitable, she curled up on the bed and set herself into what she sometimes jokingly referred to "bait mode." She suspected it would not be long before The Bitchy One attempted something, unless Sadira misread her.

Gnufasur

18-04-2005, 07:01

It would be veery easy to mistake the Neko Shinto Preistess as a witch. She wore a black robe, and her face was hidden by a thick beige veil with odd writing on it. She spoke to no one, and ignored the happenings around her.

Yet, it seemed that while she did ignore those around her, she wasn't oblivious to them. Once or twice, a girl, either drunk or suffering from an inner ear infection, would dance near her and nearly fall onto her, yet through very slight movements, Sae would angle her body so that once the woman fell, she'd miss touching her and land on the ground. Of course, Sae would make no move to help the poor girl stand again.

To those paying close attention to her, they'd note she hadn't left her spot she's been sitting at since she's arrived, until the lights dimmed. Then, she got up and moved to another spot for a short while, then moved again, placing her back against the wall and going into what seemed to be sleep, her hands folded into the extra large sleeves of her robe.

Sae noted that her spirit paper with the spell on it burnt, being reduced to mere ash. A shame. It would seem that either there's a Pryokinetic among us, or the Palace has built-in defenses against Spirit Paper Magic. Sae thought to herself while in her slumber charade, inscribing a number of Spirit Papers with a simple healing spell, having already memorized the inscriptions to the point that she didn't need to see the paper to correctly inscribe the spell. I wonder how it'd react to a Paper Master? Well, I doubt there's one of those here, so it's a moot point. Hmmm... The Dress Woman doesn't seem to be one who is unable to defend herself, so I doubt my aid will be needed...

She wrote one healing spell for each member of the Negative Aura Woman's group. She didn't plan on wasting any more of her Spirit Papers then that for her group. One each would suffice, or they would have to wait until they could be taken to a hospital.

Sae didn't infuse the papers with her own energy. She wouldn't need to, as she herself would be applying them, and the spells would take from her spirit energy at the time of application. With the spells ready, Sae waits to watch the outcome of any happenings between the group and the Dress Woman.

If not for her veil, a small smile could be seen on her face.

Vastiva

18-04-2005, 09:31

A “harem ghost” appears at Engred’s elbow, almost as if summoned from some tarnished lamp, or golden ring.

“Yes, Ayid?... your hands?... Indeed, Ayid, if you can follow, we must to the gardens. There are places there to be met, privately, by such staff.”

She leads her through one of the green doorways – swiftly and efficiently, her garb radiating a very soft luminescence in the twilight dark of the chamber. The garden itself enjoys a twilight – the soft chirp of crickets and the distant lap of surf were most certainly added artificially, but it is rather difficult to tell.

Engred is lead directly to one of the larger gazebos – this one with a table in the center, a light above, short tables around the edges.

“Ayid, if you will wait here a moment?”

The “harem ghost” takes off at a jog down another path, the luminescence of her garb fading even as she turns to go – apparently, such things are not needed by the staff.

As she sits, waiting and looking about, her gaze happens on the cricket cages, hung at each corner around the top of the gazebo – deftly explaining the sounds she hears.

Before much time is passed – as measured by cricket – the “harem ghost” reappears, leading a blue-robed – and blindfolded – woman. As she arrives, the blindfold is removed, and both step into the gazebo.

Wordlessly, the blue-robed woman checks Engred’s hands. “Hmmm… burned, abraded, and the blisters have broken… doesn’t appear broken…” She removes what could be a microscope with two flat pans where lens and stage should be from the satchel at her side. “Never hurts to check.”

The screws on the side move the pans apart; Engred’s hand is uncurled – “I know it hurts, honey, relax” – and placed between. A vibration rumbles through as the machine works; the other hand is put through the same paces.

“Sit, this will take a moment.” The blue woman removes the “stereo optic” from the “microscope” – it reminds one of a pair of binoculars, or a ViewMaster - holds it up, and looks through, manipulating two dials on the side.

“Hmmm. Not broken, but certainly cracked. I’d love to know how this happened…” – a quick glance to the silent, expressionless harem ghost – “…but you can be fitted for a pair of gloves. That should work for now.”

From her bag comes a pair of plastic-wrapped gloves, almost doeskin in appearance. As she rolls them up to insert Engred’s hands within, their silver lining can be clearly seen to “leak” a clear fluid.

“If you don’t fight, this won’t hurt a bit.” Tenderly, the blue robe lines up each finger and the thumb, and “unrolls” the glove onto the injured hand. As the palm is passed, she sets a small ball for Engred to hold – “Gently, dear”. The feeling is akin to soft, wet sponge – until she finishes rolling the glove past the wrist and halfway down the lower arm then tugs the red bands at the base.

At that, the glove “inflates”, effectively immobilizing Engred’s left hand, “soaking” it – but none of the fluid escapes.

This is repeated on the other hand, just as efficiently. “She’ll need basic help, as both hands can’t move from those positions. Though I’d much rather do this from my office then with a field kit.”

“Sorry, Ayid, but such was necessary.”
“Necessary, hell. It’s a short walk. She could have managed.”
“Yes, Ayid. But not without breaking the limits the Sultan has placed.”
“For medical reasons…”
“So sorry, Ayid. Such things are beyond our control.”
“Hmph.” The doctor looks over Engred. “I suppose we’ll be better acquainted for your physical later. Well, don’t try and use those – the gloves don’t give or adjust once fixed, and removing them just means I have to get up early again.” Her gear folds up and fits back in the satchel, along with the wrappers from the gloves. “Yes, you can get them wet. Or dry. And I dare you to get them dirty.” She stands and gives Engred a smile and a head pat. “There, any other complaints?”

***

Nivia gives Myfanwy a grandmotherly smile. “Child, there’s really nothing trivial about what you’ve gotten yourself into. And you’re one of the few to ask such a question, so consider yourself… if not wise, perhaps open to education.” Another smile.

A look around shows the seats they are in have been given a wide berth – at least one empty table in any direction. The carpeting and furred walls – “Polar bear. We try and use it everywhere we can. Very soft.” – effectively muffle conversation beneath respectable levels of overhearing.

Nivia’s two green-robed escorts have effectively made themselves “present but invisible”, hugging the walls and watching the room, passively.

“And you can sip that, it has a bite to it. Especially if you don’t like sour. But I’ve found it clears the head.” She toys with a glass of water. “I don’t think we quite got off to the right foot, or maybe proper aspect? The very job of the Herald’s office is to keep everyone informed – we keep libraries, oversee publications, even read the news. I could not think of a better source of information on Vastiva – unless it were our Sultan himself.” She takes a sip of water. “As to ‘bothering me’ – my dear, if I did not enjoy talking, I would be a most unfit Herald. There is always a Herald available; all you need to do is call.”

She gives a gentle, grandmotherly smile before continuing. “You have done nothing wrong – though you did give me something of a start. And there is nothing wrong with… sampling the Sultan’s cellar, that’s what it is there for after all. It is when such becomes… a focus, rather then a respite, that such things become a problem. But I am sure such things won’t happen to you, seeing as you do learn quickly.

“The main thing to remember, is to be yourself. Trying to be someone else, you’ll fail ever so quickly – faster, perhaps, then you know. Stumbling over words, stuttering, forgetting who you’re talking to – these are forgivable, for quite some time. Longer, indeed, in the right company. But trying to be who you’re not?” She shakes her head. “That isn’t as forgivable.”

Another sip from her glass.

“As to where you are going – well, to the Palace itself, dear. A place in the Harem while you are looked over. The Sultan has made it quite clear you’re to receive every hospitality while there – anything you have wish of, will be provided, with very few exceptions. Though if you find that too… intimidating, we can arrange for a room at a hotel for the length your stay.”

***

Drayaa nods - “Of course” – and gives Neira a quick smile before walking them past several hallways, closed doors, and past a silver-and-white liveried girl escorting a blue-robed woman carrying a satchel marked clearly with the Red Crescent.

Both give bows to the trio as they pass, the blue robed woman abbreviated, the silver-liveried girl much deeper and formal. Drayaa gives a quick nod in return.

Around a last turn, four green-robed guards stand, one at each side of a purple door, two opposite. All four wear their robes a touch tighter then the others you have seen – and all four are distinctly female.

“Beds have been made up for you, and you will find the room beyond to be shrouded in a semi-darkness. Around the edges are the rooms for the Harem members -but as you are not yet accepted, we ask you not to use or look into them. These have silver or gold doorways. The pink, green, and blue doorways you may use as you like – and there will always be a few house… servants around, to tend to any need or desire.” Another smile, and the doors are quietly opened.

It does not pass without notice the hallway lights are dimmed as the doors open.

Drayaa leads them – very quietly – into the semi-packed room, where most of the women are sleeping (some noisily, some not). At one side, two travel beds have been set. Neira’s luggage awaits her there.

“Your dinners will be along shortly – please, make yourself comfortable.”

As Drayaa’s back is turned, Drayaa does not notice a short brunette dashing back to her bed, apparently on an aborted attempt to reach one of the other girl’s beds. For what reason, is not clear. She stuffs something in a basket under an empty – but rumpled – bed and tosses herself into another.

Gnufasur

18-04-2005, 09:50

Sae had remained awake while the others slept, keeping an eye on the Negative Aura Woman's group. Sure enough, as the Negative Aura Woman left to one of the pink rooms, one of her group stood, removing something from the basket, and tried to sneak towards where the Dress Woman slumbered.

But then, someone enters from outside, bringing with her someone else. Quickly, the girl aborts her 'mission,' dashing back for her bed, tossing the item back into the basket and placing into an empty bed. How interesting. No doubt, they will attempt again. Perhaps... Already her hands were at work, inscribing a sheet of Spirit Paper with the Paralyze spell. Yet, she did not finish it, purposely not putting the last pen stroke. It was an incomplete spell. Without that last pen stroke, it was nothing more then doodles on a strip of white paper.

I'll put it on last, just before I use it. The palace will probably destroy the spell, but it should work for at least an instant, enough for me to take whatever is in that basket from her. She resumed watching, waiting for the woman to try again, pen just off the strip of spirit paper...

Cadillac-Gage

18-04-2005, 09:58

need a doctor... Engred wiped pus away from burst blistering and inflamed tissues. Her burns hadn't looked that bad at Nassanuela-and the creeping 'redness' wasn't that bad before, either. She drifted aimlessly through the big main chamber. Her mouth was dry, and she felt a little giddy-and unstable.
"excuse-" she said, as she almost tripped over a woman in loose black, who was gracefully darting through the area.
I need some water... her stomach lurched, and her vision blurred.
Her whole lower arm was on fire-under the skin.
she cradled her injured arm.
just cool it off a bit...

Left-foot-catches-on-right, and down... she saw the surface of the koi-pond rush up at her, and then... gray.

somehow, she managed to miss landing face-first into the water.

There were hands on her arms, and the room was tilted, someone speaking but she couldn't understand the words.
Flare of pain
The servant, Thana, speaking rapidly to someone on one of those earpiece-devices, holding her right hand-the injured one, and looking concerned.

There was a cool hand on her forehead, and more rapid talking.
"...how ..id thi...appen?" Engred caught only part of the words. "Nassanuela...couldn't stop it...already happened..." Engred mutterd, 'mmtoo late, so tired..."
her head felt like it was splitting open, at the same time, she felt like she was being wrapped in invisible cords. "need a doctor..."

More hands, and she caught flashes of green and white, as she was lifted onto a bed. A pinprick, and cold rushed into her.

[ooc: Engred's having a bad reaction to...something. Her temperature is 103.3 degrees Farenheit, and she's hallucinating. She's also weak as a newborn at this point. Additionally her injury is considerably worse than it was six hours ago.]

Vastiva

18-04-2005, 10:03

Ab-shalom and Greetings to His Most August Majesty, Autarch Constantine Grey, Lord of the Iron Domain, and Suzerain of the Marchlands;

We shall be sending a VAL 74SL to pick up your candidate. In the meantime, we request the forwarding of the normal array of records – vaccines, medical records, scholastic, foreign travel, and the like.

As our research into your nation’s methods shows a fundamental belief in debt, and the purchasing of debt, we would like to know to whom she owes what, and how this is purchased.

Our thanks for your indulgence,

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Gnufasur

18-04-2005, 10:06

Sae blinked as she noticed one of the strong spirit energy girls from before, tumbling about, as if drunk. Funny. I do not recall seeing her drink. Then again, I wasn't watching her... Several of the 'harem ghosts' helped her to a bed, and some green robed guards came to her side as well. They seemed to have things in control, so Sae left it be, maintaining her charade of sleeping sitting up, her back against the wall...

-Ferris-

18-04-2005, 13:17

3: Driving A Hard Bargain

Alexis McKenzie-Grey knelt before the Iron Throne, awaiting the judgement of her cousin.

The tiled floor was mercifully cool, despite the midafternoon sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows, silhouetting the Autarch. Constantine leaned forward, chin supported by one big hand, and regarded her with lazy amber eyes. He reminded her of some big cat - a lion, perhaps. Alexis had the impression that he was playing with her. Just like a cat.

"Alexis," he said finally, breaking the long silence. "We are informed that you are our cousin."

She nodded; that was so. Her father had been his father's brother. But what was all this about?

"However, even a cousin must serve the Iron Domain, in times of need. "A place for everyone, and everyone in their place." Your place is no longer here."

Alexis shifted uncomfortably; did he intend to exile her? Whatever for?

"There is a land named Vastiva," Constantine continued, "And in this land is a man - the Sultan, Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din. He is restocking his harem; we have selected you to fill a place within it."

Cold shivers ran down her spine. Her mother had been lifted from a successful career to fufill a similar position for her father; was she now destinied for a similar fate? It's not fair! she thought angrily - but it would be no good, and no use, to say so to the Autarch.

And why me? Unlike her mother, Alexis was no stunning beauty - oh, she was by no means ugly, but she was no supermodel either.

"This is an ancient and honourable position within Vastivan society," he went on, "And we are told that the Sultan is not an unkind man. With a harem of fifty-one, it is unlikely that you would often see him - but nonetheless this thing shall be done. It is commanded."

The emphasis he put on that word made her wonder who by - the Autarch was, after all, the supreme arbiter of life and death in Ferris. Another thing it would not be a good idea to ask.

Darian, in the shadows beside the throne, handed him a sheet of paper, which Constantine turned over in his hands, folded in half, unfolded again. His fingers twitched almost nervously.

"If you do not wish to go," he said, "We will find another. But if you accept this offer, well ... this is your contract of debt. We am willing to tear it up, here and now."

That was a boon she would not have imagined in a million years - with hard work, and luck, she might have repaid the twelve million in as many years, or twice that; faster than many millions of people, to be sure, but this - this was unprecedented, for one of her status.

"I'll do it," she replied, with only a little hesitation. The paper tore suprisingly loudly, and Constantine handed the halves back to Darian.

"Very good. There are certain other conditions; if you are accepted into Sinjin's harem, you will become a Vastivan citizen, and no longer under our domain. Your property becomes the Sultan's, for the duration of your residence there.

"If you cause any manner of problems in Vastiva, that will reflect badly upon us - and even outside of our domain, we are not without resources. You are our representative to Vastiva, their window onto our realm, and will behave accordingly.

"The Vastivans will arrive tomorrow; you will be ready to leave then."

"But my art-" she protested, "I'll need at least a week-"

"Leave it, if needs be," Constantine replied. "You will be ready to leave tomorrow."

"Yes, Your Majesty," she replied. No sense in arguing with him, none at all. "It shall be done as you say."

The Autarch frowned, and rubbed at the back of his neck.

To the attention of Raahmid Javani, Grand Vizier of the Sultanate of Vastiva, from His Most August Majesty, Autarch Constantine Grey, Lord of the Iron Domain, and Suzerain of the Marchlands;

Our thanks for your prompt reply.

The relevant documentation has been attached for your perusal; we trust that you will find it satisfactory.

As for Miss McKenzie-Grey's debt, this was a sum in excess of twelve million shards, primarily inherited; it has now been annulled by our decree, in preparation for this event. We understand that her property would become that of the Sultan while under his rule, and as such, such a debt would be difficult to pay off.

By mine own hand,

C. Grey

Attachments:
Records - medical
Records - education
Records - passport
Records - miscellaneous

The attachments contained basic and not so basic data on Alexis McKenzie-Grey. At one hundred and seventy centimeters and weighing sixty-four kilograms, she was a very healthy average; suprisingly healthy, in fact, given the state of Ferris' health care. That came of living under the extended ageis of House Grey (averages tended to be of very little use in measuring Ferris' population, skewed at one end by the opulence of the Houses, and at the other by the grinding poverty of the rural indebted).

Her education spanned the full range avaliable from House Grey's schools, in which she'd done, if not excellently, still very well; after which she'd apprenticed for three years under Alexander Harrison-Reed, a reasonably well-known artist of the previous generation. That had ended six years ago; now at twenty-six, Alexis was suprisingly young for a successful artist (that, of course, was part of what the intelligentsia liked - how could the hopes and desires of one generation be successfully encapsulated in the work of another?).

While she was clearly no globe-trotting adventurer, Alexis' passport bore stamps from various nations around the world, both near and far from Ferris; most were related to art exhibitions.

Examples of her art had been attached, mostly heavily stylised oil paintings in an extremely limited palette - charcoal, ash, red and yellow ochre, the colours of Ferris. Blue made occasional appearances, but green was practically non-existent. Extreme chiaroscuro - almost duotone at times - gave them the look of old propaganda posters (or, in Ferris, new propaganda posters).

OOC: I'm an art student myself, can you tell? :P

Findhorn

18-04-2005, 17:20

Nivia: "The very job of the Herald’s office is to keep everyone informed – we keep libraries, oversee publications, even read the news."
Startled, Myfanwy scrambled to her feet.

"You are a Librarian? Oh, I beg your pardon, Learned!"

She performed the awkward bob that was the nearest her stiff-necked nation's citizens ever came to a sign of respect and remained standing, over-awed.

She had known Vastiva was rich, but to know and to have it demonstrated in such a way were two vastly different experiences. Not even during her post-graduate days at the University of Telidia had she seen such a careless display of wealth. Incredible -- to have so many Librarians that their Chief could take time off to chat with Harem wannabes!

But perhaps she was pursuing some scholarly research project -- Depths of Dumbness in Countrified Candidates?, suggested Myfanwy's inner critic. Still, she mustn't waste this opportunity.

"Learned, will I be permitted to study at your Libraries?" she begged. "Do you have any collections of old herbals? Have you got any live interviews with traditional singers? Is there anything on the use of native materials in guitars? And that thing your people do -- you know, when you touch your head and sort of roll your hands and say 'Namaste' -- what's that derived from? A Christian once told me that the thing they do is called 'spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch'; do you think there's any common source?"

A variety of expressions flitted across Nivia's face; fortunately, Myfanwy was too serious on this subject to guess that amusement predominated. The young Findhornian was in the grip of a cultural obsession. A society that had revered its long-memoried Druids in pre-literate days had come to accord the same respect to its Librarians when writing was adopted. The Learned were judges, law-givers, leaders, soothsayers, mystics -- and also the people who knew where to find the best acorns, and how to treat goats with woolly-tongue. They were gifted, and they were rare.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Learned," Myfanwy said suddenly, blushing hotly and chopping off her flow of queries. "I got carried away. I thank you deeply for your advice," she continued formally, "and I would be grateful if you would continue it while we travel."

Recalling that she had actually been asked a question, she added, "Could we go to the Harem, please? I think I'll be staying away from hotels for quite some time."

Vastiva

18-04-2005, 19:56

Within the Palace Infirmary, blue gowned nurses kept watch on Engred's twitchy form, adjusting the straps holding her in place - and checking the IV lines and mixture.

They tried very hard to ignore the presence of the Sultan in the room.

"Truly, my Sultan, it is neither serious nor untreatable, nor infectious. A reaction to some bad serum, she should be up and around in a day at most, two if..."
Sinjin's gaze landed on the speaking nurse. "Medicine, I leave in your hands. Explanations are what I am here to hear."
The doctor bowed her head. "My Sultan, I had finished treating her hand wounds when she rose and wandered through the gardens. At first, it was thought she was simply walking off the shock of treatment, but her...guide called out when she began attempting to rip off the Asmeri gloves I had placed on her, and calling for water while splashing through one of the small ponds. She was tranquilized, and brought here."
A nod. "I see."
Another bow. "There was no way to treat this in the field, with what I was carrying. Truly, right now she is on mostly antipyretics and fluids; we have neutralized the offending vaccine and flushed it from her. All her body needs to do is wake up and realize where it is."
Another nod.
"I leave her in your care, Doctor. Do see she is reinstated to mine."
"Yes, my Sultan."

The Voltarum

18-04-2005, 23:56

OOC: Vast, replied to your tele... sorry about being dumb lol!

Neira and Ka'tal quietly ajourn to their beds. Neira quickly tries to take the room in, but almost feels a sort of vertigo staring at her surroundings. The enormity of it is empressive, and she quickly desides that living here would be quite the adventure. Her stomach rumbles again, and she turns to open her bag to search for the Voltaru seasoning salts she brought... she couldn't quite risk Vastiva not having any, especialy for fish. After a few seconds, she decided that she was too tired to mount an extensive search for them, and sat back in her bed. (OOC: i'll leave it to you whether she just couldn't find them, or they are not there...).

She turned to Ka'tal, and not surprisingly found her staring ahead, taking metal notes about the room. Neira had not known her house guard for very long - her existence was kept secret to her unitl her parents died - but it did not take long to realize her methods. Right now she was probably going through her survival mode - number of exits, and the nearest one... persons who looked the most threatening.. objects in the room that could be used as weapons... Ka'tal was trained for mostly defense... although the creed of the House Guards included some very poignant lines about "Never defending against the same enemy twice." And it was not meant in the good way.

For now, Neira was greatful. She doubted anything like the violent thoughts running through Ka'tal's mind would happen here, but she was glad she had a defender if such a thing arose. She was unsure how much the others knew of her, or if they had seen the cards with the odds... but she didn't want to take any chances. Her age, she was sure, would make her a target enough.

Neira continued to survey the room, trying to see if she recognized any faces from her all too brief look at the trading cards earlier. It would be an advantage, she decided, if she knew as much as she could about some of these women... and the first job would be to find one that looked friendly enough to tell her what, if anything, has happened here the last few days.

She played with her Grata* beads, as she contined to study faces. One woman kept drawing her unconscious attention... most likely because Neira could not see her face, which was effectively hidden behind some sort of veil.

She yawned, and decided she really needed to get some sleep after she was done eating.

She looked up and saw a servant coming with what smelled like a very fresh fish entree. She turned to Ka'tal, and said in a whisper: "I wonder if there are as many girls up in the apartments as they are down here?"

---
*Grata beads - much like Greek worry beads, a short chain of 13 amber, bone, or other original material that some Voltaru play with to relieve stress or anxiety. Neira's are made of what looks like a set of 13 spherical emeralds, looped by a gold laced string. The string is brought together by a solid gold charm, bearing the Crest of the House of Vektori.

Gnufasur

19-04-2005, 00:52

Sae felt the eyes of the young newcomer upon her. She had quickly become used to this feeling of being watched. Her robes, and the fact that her face was hidden, caused many to regard her wearily, as if she were a Stranger whom could not be trusted.

A small smirk came to her face. Perhaps, in the morning, I'll change into my other robes and mingle with the women here. And, I'll bet at least one of them will ask me if I know who the girl in the black robes was, or at least where she is. Heehee...

Krioval

19-04-2005, 02:43

"Are you actually going to do it?" Darvek asked, shock registering on his face. "I mean, isn't that dishonorable?"

"Look. They'll realize that I was left in the dark, which I was, and while I may look stupid, I won't look like I planned this."

"Because you didn't plan this?"

"Does this look like one of my hack jobs? No. And that's because it's not."

To the Office of the Sultanate of Vastiva:

Krioval is pleased to note the acceptance of Lady Lakat into the Vastivan harem. I would be most honored to visit your great land personally to celebrate this phase in strengthening our relations. Naturally, the leadership of Vastiva is invited to Krioval at their convenience.

Commander Raijin Dekker
Armed Republic of Krioval

Vastiva

19-04-2005, 06:00

Ab-shalom and Greetings to His Most August Majesty, Autarch Constantine Grey, Lord of the Iron Domain, and Suzerain of the Marchlands;

It may indeed be that we misunderstand your statements of debt and property, and if this is the case, we do ask forgiveness for what is to come.

Attached, I have directed a bank draft for the sum of 203,275,576.50 PC or approximately thirty times the stated value of Alexis McKenzie-Grey’s debt. We would ask your august presence to use this minor trifle to release some number of individuals from their debts, as a celebration of your deliverance of Ms McKenzie-Grey to our kind offices.

More often, a candidate’s country – or at the least, their family – does receive some sort of wereguild in celebration. In this case, and given the circumstances, we believe a general celebration of several anonymous peoples in your nation would perhaps be more fitting.

We would also ask, should she be accepted, if there are artforms and the like which would then require transportation, and if so, the relative tonnage of the cargo.

Again, we do thank you for lesson in debt, and do reiterate we are most able to pay ours.

Thank you for your time,

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Raahmid affixed his signature and seal to the paper, adding the same to the bank draft. So you believe the Sultan could not pay off a trifling twelve million debt? Feathers still ruffled, he called for a Herald, for the official posting.

Tocrowkia

19-04-2005, 06:05

((I'm to lost. I resign. Do what ever with Josephine as you like.))

Vastiva

19-04-2005, 07:08

A “harem ghost” arrives, balancing two covered trays carefully as she steps around the many beds and luggages.

“Good evening, Ayid, memshayayid”, she bows first to Neira then to Ka’tal – a gymnastic feat of balance. “Our chef has prepared sea bass, we hope to your liking.”

The first tray is set down as it “grows legs”, and the cover removed. Two plates of tender, flavorful sea bass are displayed, along with shakers of various spices, oils, and salts – including Voltaru seasoning salts. Side “salads” of sea greens sit beside in their own bowls, and a small plate of dried kelp takes up the remainder of space.

“Our chef is rather thorough in his larder, Ayid. He sends these with his compliments.”

The second tray descends, its cover is whisked away – and two hot fudge sundaes are made evident, along with two glasses. The “harem ghost” removes a bota from her shoulder and fills them both with plain cold tea.

“Lemon, sugar, rose water, and crème are all on the tray, Ayid. Should you desire else, just raise your hand and one of us shall come to you.” She gives another shy smile, and a curtseying bow.

***

“Guy Smiley”, on the other hand, got a first-hand look into Vastiva’s infatuation with all things Harem. The “courtesy intranet” in the hotel room gave them access to Vastiva’s intranet system – a separate system contacted the NSInternet and/or Regional Internets.

A good eighty percent of non-commercial traffic was discussions about the candidates, ranging from card traders and fanboys and girls, to threads about the fashion and cultures of the candidates, to theme menus offered by many of Vastiva’s restaurants, to some rather… “in depth” fiction and discussion, most of it coded for “not for children”.

Digitally cropped and manipulated pictures flew like starlings. And each candidate had a section for and against them, some more active then others. There had been no fewer then fifteen duels fought between chefs of various restaurants, each with their own “candidate” – and these had proven boisterous to say the least. Had not the Sultan’s Grace injected funds in at least three of them, it is certain both sides would have gone bankrupt in attempting to create “authentic dishes”. Statements from the Judiciary in several of these cases mention how difficult it was to decide between the two styles, as they were so distant in method.

Fortunes are being made on “fanware” of all sorts; businesses appear to be playing brinkman, a few mentioning that wearing certain “fanware” is good for a discount – but most are holding for an announcement.

Vastiva

19-04-2005, 08:05

At the restaurant, Nivia covers her amusement behind a napkin and a concerted attempt to wipe away something that isn’t there.

“You may call me ‘Nivia’, Myfanwy. Or ‘Herald’ if you prefer. While not completely unheard of, it is most often the members of the Ministry of Science and Technology who are referred to as such. Though,” and her eyes take on a gremlin’s glint, “we have many other names for them, particularly when something goes amiss.. or kaboom. But I digress.”

She takes another sip of water, puts down the glass with finality.

“You will find, Myfanwy, that Vastiva has very extensive libraries. Our publishing industry was foremost in our nation for many years, and maintains an iron grip on education. There are no books you shall ever find that we call ‘banned’ or ‘out of print’.
‘Amusing’ is far more common.

“I am told we do make it a point to acquire all the texts and tomes we can lay hands on, of any nation we trade with. As such, it would be reasonable to assume you could find at least a digital copy of any text you wished to peruse. If not, perhaps one of our trading partners would have a copy. It would only be a matter of time…”

She stands, carefully. “But, as you wish, candidate. We shall travel to the Palace with some speed.” She put down the accosted napkin. “I should mention, even as a candidate, while you are in the Harem, what you request is to be made available. So if you wish to study, it would seem the easiest way would be to request the materials you wish to study.”

As she moved from the table – and took the stunned Myfanwy’s arm to guide her – her two green-robed escorts moved as shadows from the walls, sure-footed and graceful enough to avoid all diners. They do, occasionally, drop a small coin marked with the Crest of the Sultanate onto the tabletop. Apparently, this means something to some of the assembled, who celebrate.

Nivia completely ignores them as they walk back onto the concourse and towards their conveyance. “Now, ‘Namaste’ requires a taste of some of our history, as does the traditional ‘ab-shalom and greetings’ we use to speak to foreign peoples. You will note the greeting itself is a duplication – both parts are in fact a greeting, and it would seem redundant to use them both. Yet it is that duplication which gives the meaning. You see, ‘ab-shalom’ is one of the forms Vastivans use to greet each other, and ‘greetings’ is as generic as one can get. In a single greeting, we therefore honor both our traditions, and make welcome the traditions of others – an opening of culture, as it were.”

She waits for a glimmer of understanding before continuing. “As you may be aware, in 1625 – common reckoning - Eola Sinitii al-Din became Sultan, a period which we refer to as the ‘Red Sultanate’, for many reasons we need not go into at this time.

“One of the advances we do owe to Eola was the acceptance of a world beyond – and the reclamation of naval technique. While we had, by that time, established the use of a rudimentary submarine for gathering from the depths, and were capable of floating boats able to circle our continent, we had little to no interest in the rest of the world. This changed with the establishment of the Vastivan trading outpost of Mosselbaai in what is now South Africa, followed – over, oh, twenty or thirty years later – by actual merchant fleets moving through the Indian Ocean to Siam, India, and all of the western African coast – careful, dear, that is a step, now let me fit these on you, ah, very good. Where was I? Oh, yes.”

The maglev accelerates quietly as Nivia continues.

“In trading with the peoples of the sand, we learned we had missed; in five hundred years of isolation, much of what had evolved in what had been our culture. Even our language had changed, affected by our absorption of the tribes here. Religion? Ours had the precepts, but not the certainties. It could well be said Eola placed us nearly another five hundred years ahead of the rest of the world, for we had not only a female Sultan, but one with effectiveness which had not been seen since Fafin’ad Sahir’ al-Din. It took subtlety, diplomacy – and not a little money – to learn much of what occurred in our absence, while remaining beyond the ken of the Egyptians and other powers. The ‘moorish race’ had all but vanished, and our interbreeding with Antarcticans had done much to… disperse racial continuance.”

“By 1680, our trade fleets plied the seas between what is now Mozambique and Indonesia, even touching Australia on occasion. But some of our best trade was found in the spices and metals of India.

“Because of our racial and cultural differences – due to breeding - our traders were often mistaken for those of other nations, and we did nothing to decrease the unknown. In point of fact, the very name of our nation is a phrase – “Vas tee vah”, meaning “Vast are my lands”. That few or none discerned we were discussing a place and not an idea, did indeed work for us.

“And so the cup passed from Arabia to India for a long time – our ships moved metals and hardwoods to Vastiva, in return for our ‘exotic’ cargos, including refined oil, coal, bauxite, ambergris, and salt. During that time, we adopted the closing phrase, ‘Namaste’ because of the influx of sailors into our homelands – for to be a sailor was to invite wealth, and many returned wealthy and created for themselves homesteads. As to speak like a sailor in turn demonstrated a form of worldliness and access to wealth, many words entered our language – including ‘namaste’, which has shown the most resistance to exclusion.”

“Ah, we are here.” She unbuckled the certainly confused Myfanwy from her belts, and walked her easily out of the maglev onto the Red Entrance.

Nivia ignores the glances of both guards.

“You do note these lamps? These are from Eola’s time. They still work very well – our refining techniques for lamp oils were second to none for a long time, though we do not use whale oil any longer. And these stones, laid for stairs, are said to be from the walls of some of the stone dwellings from Fafin’ad Sahir’ al-Din’s time, though I would guess they are more akin to that of Siiking al-Din Shumash, whom we do call ‘the Builder’ for a good reason. Fafin may have known strategy, but his son was a dozen times his equal in city planning.”

She points up the red stone staircase. “That way, Myfanwy, lies the Palace itself. It is history, it has a life all of its own. While there, you may see things you have never seen before – so I give you this advice. Above all else, be yourself. A land of our age has a loyalty onto itself, and those who would do it harm, do so at their peril.”

She waits for Myfanwy to respond.

Vastiva

19-04-2005, 08:31

Sadira’s half-sleep is disturbed once by a ‘harem ghost’ in faintly glowing livery, checking on each candidate in turn – it is, in fact, this glow which prevents an incident of the most embarrassing sort.

Her next disturbance is by a brownette girl, short, and rather bookish – glasses, braids, and holding a book in her arms – skittering along the ground to beside Sadira’s bed.

“Miss? Are you up? Miss?” She looks around, clearly not a little nervous; her accent is a hissing fit even in whisper.

True, she might be carrying something under the frousy sleepwear she has on, but it would incredibly impractical.

-Ferris-

19-04-2005, 08:35

4: The Quality of Mercy*

"Is he trying perhaps to bribe me?" Constantine wondered. "Whatever for? Darian, explain this to me."

"I don't think he understands," Darian replied, "Or if he does he doesn't like it. But take it as it is given - he asks that we use this two hundred million to release people from debt - not annull the debt, in which case he would be bribing you - and I daresay the price would be a good deal higher.

"There is an Islamic custom known as Mehr, a bride-price, and this may be little more than that, adapted for these circumstances - the members of Sinjin's harem are not his wives, no matter how high in status they may rise.

"My advice, Your Majesty? Find some minor House which can use a cash windfall more than a few dozen labourers, or a farming village we can afford to make freehold. Give the debt-holders this money in recompense for the removal of some small portion of their labour force - and add some from your own coffers. The Autarchy cannot be seen to be kind only with the gifts of foreigners."

"Need we accept this at all?" Constantine asked. "Whoever I grant this to may thank me for the money, but they will not thank me for removing labourers from them."

"We need their goodwill, Your Majesty. Or to be precise, we need the Nameless's goodwill, and the one is dependent upon the other."

To the attention of Raahmid Javani, Grand Vizier of the Sultanate of Vastiva, from His Most August Majesty, Autarch Constantine Grey, Lord of the Iron Domain, and Suzerain of the Marchlands;

We do apologise if we have offended your excellency or your lord; such was not our intention. We did not mean to in any way imply that you are any less wealthy as ourselves.

Perhaps we should explain further; unless you had purchased her debt, Miss McKenzie-Grey would have remained in debt to ourself, and while you might have purchased that debt, or granted her the funds to repay it, as she would be a Vastivan citizen we felt that this would create a diplomatically ... embarrassing situation. The citizens of one nation should not, after all, be indebted to the lord of another.

Nonetheless, we thank you for this kind gift. It shall be spent in the manner you have requested.

Having consulted with Miss McKenzie-Grey on the matter, we have ascertained that there are some dozen artworks, most incomplete, she wishes to bring with her, as well as miscellaneous tools of her trade; these, in total, weigh XXX** kilograms. We hope that this shall not be a problem.

By mine own hand,

C. Grey

OOC: *"The Quality of Mercy is unstrain'd / It falleth as the gentle rain from heaven", or so sayeth the Bard. As we know, it rains very little in Ferris.

** I have not a clue how much this should weigh - assume that Constantine put the weight here, though. It shouldn't cause a problem - oil paintings are not marble collossi, after all.

Vastiva

19-04-2005, 10:16

It is a ‘harem ghost’ who gently wakes Medea, whispering of a need for some speed, that she has been summoned with urgency – “No, Ayid, there is no time for dressing, please, if you will come this way?” – and leads her by softly glowing livery through the maze of people and luggage and beds to the purple door.

Once past the door – and it is shut - she is met, not by another guide – but by four green-robes, their FNP90 SMGs unslung and pointed, and a large form of a man in well-kept leather armor with a naked scimitar in his hand.

The point comes up, points at her throat.

“Lady Medea Lakat, you are under arrest for the crime of treason. You will accompany us, either under your own power, or by ours. I give you leave to choose.”

That this man would really like to put something lethal in her is readily apparent.

She is blindfolded by one of the green-robes and lead through twisting corridors; twice doors are opened and closed, and there is the strong scent of cooking beef.

A third door is opened – and she is pulled through, the blindfold removed.

The room is well-decorated, the floor somewhat covered in rugs – at the center, these rugs have been pulled back, exposing stone. “You will kneel there” or else “Bare, woman. And no tricks or lack of understanding!” He punctuates this with a swing of the naked blade.

The green robes form an offset square around her as the large leatherbound man steps to a table and removes a newspaper from its surface. When she is done, and down, he continues his tirade.

“You will now explain this, in detail!” With little effort, he tosses the paper in front of Medea. Circled in red is the story of her being accepted – along with the parts of her history underlined in the same deep red.

Before she can do more then glance at the paper, before she can form a word, the door opens again.

In steps Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din.

In a very nice royal blue silk bathrobe and bear feet slippers.

He looks from corner to corner of the room, noticing the lack of light, the position of the rugs, the lack of chairs – and the presence and position of each individual.

The door is closed by a silver-and-white liveried servant – and she realizes with a start it is the same servant who brought her out of the Harem.

She also cannot miss the look of unadulterated hatred that the servant shoots at the leather garbed man – or that the servant quickly looks away before anyone else can notice.

Sinjin seems entirely nonplussed. “This had best be good, Therassi. I do not mind those under my command using all the powers I give them. It is rather disconcerting when they… overstep those boundaries.”

“My Sultan,” he performs a complicated gesture with his hands as he bows, “this Kriovalian woman is an assassin, with long military experience, sent to do harm to your personage!”

This doesn’t even merit a glance at Medea. “So far, by your logic, as I was a pilot, I should have wings and fly.”

“She has the skills and training to kill a man!”
“As do I, as does most of the adult population of Vastiva.”
Reddened, Therassi adds “Yes, my Sultan – but not all of them killed their own commander in cold blood, and not all of them were dismissed from the military for such actions!”

“Mmmmhmmm. And not all of them were dragged from my Harem – without my order, I should add – and… presented in such circumstance to me. I do,” he turns a questioning gaze on Therassi, “assume I was to be told of this at some point before the execution?”

“My Lord, it is my responsibility for your safety. It is also my prerogative to remove threats from anywhere in this Palace.”

“And it is my prerogative to oversee any questioning I desire, is it not? Particularly in my own home?” His gaze turns from Therassi to Medea.

“As it is late, you will excuse if I do ask you to be brief, Medea of Krioval?” He does not wait for an answer. “Excellent.”

He turns, and reclines into one of the majlis set about the room before turning his head to the servant. “Fahima, do rouse the kitchen, I feel like a spot of tea. Then ask Radimir and Barba to fetch themselves here, there’s a good girl.”

The servant vanishes out the door.

“Now, Therassi, if you would be so kind as to put away your sword, I am rather sure my guards can deal with any threat.”

The sword slides into its sheath.

Sinjin returns his attention to Medea. “If you would not mind answering whatever it was you were asked before I arrived?”

Findhorn

19-04-2005, 17:27

Krioval

19-04-2005, 17:49

Medea does her best to avert the man's gaze, and while her tone is even, it is not the reverential tone a servant might use, but instead, that of a soldier reporting to a superior officer. "Sir, if I thought for ten seconds that this," she threw the paper down with obvious disgust, "was going to follow me for the rest of my damn life all around the world, I would have instead chosen to leave the planet entirely. As I'm sure you are aware, my Lord, there is quite a difference between killing in 'cold blood', of which this," she paused, considering the best Kriovalian insult, "dan-karoten* wants me to be guilty, and self-defense. The dan-karoten tried to blackmail me first, then force himself on me. He assumed I was weaker because I was female. He was wrong."

She considered her next response, before choosing, "And that anybody would trust the garbage from this rag in the first place is, to me, telling. They lead the industry in percentage of stories retracted, which is something, with all due respect, I would assume that Vastiva would look into before dragging a guest out of bed at knifepoint. Though I guess the silver lining to this disgrace is that you can judge for yourself what I look like half-naked, though I would very much have preferred such a presentation without the armed escort." Despite her situation and the Sultan's presence, she failed to suppress a giggle, which magnified in intensity.

"Gods," she said, vainly fighting to contain the laughter. "Story of my life! Studied politics, got in the military, did everything right. But did it work out? No. And every guy I've ever been interested either turns out to be completely uninterested in women. How is that even possible?!" Suddenly regaining her composure, Medea worried that her 'secret' had been breached. Had she used the name 'Raijin' in the last bit?

Cadillac-Gage

19-04-2005, 20:49

"open your eyes." Engred felt warm, and she was so tired...
"OPEN your EYES." faint sounds of feet moving over polished floors, breathing...but i'm so tired... she thought plaintively.
Open Your EYES She forced them open. The lighting was fairly soft-but it hurt. Cabinets along one wall, an IV drip in her arm, guards at the door. a faint ''beeeeep" summoned a woman in dark blue-the Harem's doctor, who yawned with fatigue-and tried to hide it.
"Doctor... how did I end up here? The last thing I remember, you were putting some kind of glove over my hands to protect the burns..?"

The Voltarum

19-04-2005, 23:22

Neira gazes eagerly at the plates before her, not sure which to eat first. She decides it would be an aweful waste to have that ice cream melt, and seeing her bass was nice and hot, she dives into the sundae with zeal. Ka'tal slices slowly into the bass, never taking her eyes from the room.

About an hour later, they both lay down, exhausted from the day's trip and their filling meal. Neira is precoccupied with thoughts of home, and turns toward the wall to try and fall asleep... her grata bead's clinking growing slower each minute until finally, all is quiet.

Ka'tal, finally resigning to the fact that she needed sleep, dozes off just as she notices a ghost comign toward a women in the far corner...

Krowemoh

20-04-2005, 00:50

((OOC: ... Meorw... =@_@= Lotsa posts to catch up on. Hmmm... Nothing in particular I need to catch up on, though...))

Zukie yawns, retiring to the bed she had picked out, near where Engred and Medea had picked.

But, as she lies down to sleep, Engred is taken by a 'harem ghost' to the garden area, then is promptly removed from the Harem area by more of the ghosts and a few guards.

"I do hope she is okay..." Kera says, watching the girl being escorted away.

Then, almost immediately after, Medea is removed as well. Zukie blinks quickly. "Nya... It's like they're targetting our group. I hope we don't get taken away next..." To this, Kera only shrugs.

"We can only hope, I guess. C'mon, let's go to sleep. I'm sure it's nothing major." She suggests.

"I hope so. Good night." Zukie whispers a small prayer to the Goddess Cori, then lays her head against the pillow, closing her eyes and resigning herself to slumber.

Kera remains sitting up for a long moment, watching those around her, before she curls up into a small ball at Zukie's feet, covering herself with a spare towel she managed to snag. It barely covers her, but she doesn't seem to mind...

Scandavian States

20-04-2005, 02:13

Sadira didn't move, not even open an eye, either when the girl approached or when she spoke. That wasn't to say Sadira wasn't ready to react if it became necessary, just that she didn't sense any threat.

"Yes, I am awake," muttered Sadira quietly. "What is it you require?"

Vastiva

20-04-2005, 08:17

The Sultan rubs his eyes as Medea speaks, looking at her first as she giggles.

He turns his head to the side and addresses a lamp. “I think I did hear her right, did I not?
‘And every guy I've ever been interested either turns out to be completely uninterested in women. How is that even possible?!’?” He looks at Medea a moment before turning back to the lamp. “So is it that I do not interest her, or that there is some element of my life I am not yet cognizant of at this stage of my life? Take your time, I’ll be back for an answer.”

Standing proves his grace is still intact – even in bear slippers. “Therassi, are there any more disasters you wish me to observe tonight, or can they wait until morning?”

“But, my Sultan!”

“Therassi,” says the tone of a parent addressing a small child who has discovered that cats do not like being put in the dryer, even if wet, “There is certainly a reason you are part of Palace Security and not our Intelligence operations. If you would be so kind as to… discuss your misgivings about those under my care with me before you jump to any conclusions – after your official travels are over, of course – it would go far to… re-establish the complete faith I have in you.”

The Guard-Captain looks as though his face has been slapped. “My travels?”

“Oh, yes, I was saving it for morning. There appears to be some sort of international contest involving various warrior sorts. It would appear to be in Vastiva’s best interest to send an entrant or two, particularly those of great skill – you are unmatched in the region in scimitar and other such, are you not?”

“Yes, my Sultan, but…”

“Very well then!” he claps the larger man on the shoulders. “I pronounce you one of our official envoys to Krioval for their Festival of Fighters – now, don’t thank me too much, it is indeed your skill and cleverness which have brought me to this conclusion. Besides, I think a change of scenery and a chance to poke around Krioval will do you no end of good.”

He turns easily, standing between the door and Medea as it opens to admit the figures of the Palace Seneschal, Radimir Yursur, and the First of the Palace Servants, Barba Svalbard. They both sweep into bows.

“Yes, yes, now just stand there. Radimir, I have appointed Therassi as our first among Champions we are sending to Krioval’s Festival of Fighters.”

“Uhm, yes, my Sultan?” The poor man looks half dazed and entirely confused.

“He shall be equipped with our best, assigned a most excellent squire for the time being, and given a good stipend – which I fully expect to be completely spent by the time he returns. You shall make all travel arrangements and the like.”

Another bow. “Yes, my Sultan.”

“Good, now go.” Even as the Seneschal blinks and retires, Sinjin’s gaze is on the other figure. “I would like an accounting of the several servants in this wing this evening, on my desk, in the morning.”

“It shall be done, my Sultan…?”

“Excellent.” He turns back to look at Therassi. “You need to pack and consider. Perhaps you have a name or two to turn in as squires? I shall not keep you from your task, this is most important. It would not do for you to return without some token of success.”

“I…” the large man swallows. “I shall do my best, my Sultan.”

“That is, after all, all we can ask of you, is it not?”

He waits patiently as Therassi goes, head nodding the four guards out as well and the door clicks shut.

“So, you studied politics? Would you care to discuss them over breakfast?” A smile plays over his features for the first time as he removes his robe and drapes it over her.

Yep, royal blue pajama bottoms too.

“I would rather assure you, Vastiva had nothing to do with your… predicament. In point of fact, Vastiva was sound asleep until woken up by a rather frenetic servant – a situation which the returning to, in due time, would perhaps be a good idea. Hmmm, my tea seems to have disappeared. Ah, no worries, I am sure it has gotten itself somewhere.”

He offers a hand. “If you would be so kind as to help me take my robe back to my suite, I should find myself rather appreciative, one should think?”

***

To the Office of the Sultanate of Vastiva:

Krioval is pleased to note the acceptance of Lady Lakat into the Vastivan harem. I would be most honored to visit your great land personally to celebrate this phase in strengthening our relations. Naturally, the leadership of Vastiva is invited to Krioval at their convenience.

Commander Raijin Dekker
Armed Republic of Krioval

Ah, how nice to discuss things with you, Commander! My many and various do say a great many good things about you and yours.

At the time of the arrival of your kind invitation, I had not yet decided to accept or deny most any of the candidates within the roster. It was a reasonable shock to discover that Krioval – among others, to be sure – had already inserted their candidate within these walls, on a more permanent basis.

Nonetheless, I have found no fault with young Medea, and I am certain to see much more of her in the future. Though – again, to be sure – there has not yet been any announcement of any sort from our Heralds, so I shall trust to your discretion in this matter.

I do enclose a copy of Medea’s trading card, both the first and second editions, for your records. When a third is issued, I shall make sure one copy arrives safely at your desk.

It is rare for us to have visitors, particularly of your stature, in our Winter months. Nonetheless, the Palace shall be happy to host yourself and whatever and whomever you choose to have come and visit. We have most certainly added you to the list of invitees, following official announcements.

Thank you for your time, it is so rare I do get to discuss such topics with peers and equals.

Sincerely,
Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din
Sultan and State of Vastiva

Vastiva

20-04-2005, 08:50

Before Myfanwy's inner eye float the magnificent vessels of the past, flaunting their brilliant colours, loaded with ancient treasures; ships whose crews sing in tongues now dead of merchant-venturers who awakened sleeping empires ...

Mistress Nivia's hand on her arm recalls her to the present. "You do note these lamps? These are from Eola's time ..."

Myfanwy listened carefully, her trained ear recording every word of advice from this new friend, her untrained intellect seeking the advice under the advice. Walk in awe, perhaps; or, You are being weighed in the balance. Now she understood a little of what the Red Gate entry signified, she felt even more provincial, small and grubby.

But she straightened, reminding herself: To you you're just Myff, but to them you're Findhorn. She took a step away from the Herald, about to begin a suitably reverent ascent of these stairs that were as slippery with history as they may well have been, often enough, with blood.

Then suddenly stopped, turned, came back and stood in front on her guide: "I really can't thank you properly, Nivia. You've already done far more than you needed to, and you've made me feel as if you were doing it for me, not just out of duty. So, look, I'm sorry if it's not polite to ask this straight out, and I should have been quick enough to get it by myself, but I haven't, so ... what are you warning me about?"

Nivia gave a slight laugh. “Warning? Hardly.”

Not waiting to see the older woman's reaction, she hurried on, "Twice, now, you've told me to 'be myself'. I know what that means normally -- like, 'don't pretend to be rich when you're poor', or 'don't change yourself just to fit in'. But the way you've said it each time, it seems to mean something more -- as if you have some picture of what I ought to be, and I'm not being it. So what I want to know is, what's the me that I'm not being?"

Ah, the young and their timeliness… “Who did say you were not being? And who can say you will not be when the time comes to be?”

Yeah, well done, Myff, very well put, perfectly clear, she scolded herself. Anyway, she'd done it. She waited to see if Nivia would, or could, explain; then decided that she must have infringed on yet another invisible social boundary.

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry. Please bear with me, Nivia." She couldn't just run off like this; she reached out with both arms wide, then wrapped her advisor in a full bear-hug.

Hugging a person in formal Vastivan dress has its hazards. Finally disentangling herself from sundry ties, fasteners and bits of material, Myfanwy scuttled in embarrassment up the stairs.

The Chief Herald watched with mischievous appreciation as her charge, out of breath from her hasty ascent, turned to wave goodbye, tried to perform a proper Namaste and backed inelegantly into one of the guards.

A silk-clad arm reached out, hauled authoritatively, and Myfanwy Mhairi ap Hwyl was, for better or for worse, finally within the Harem.

“Ayid, your bed still waits…” a silver-and-white servant guides her by the arm – without so much as a look backwards at her – through the maze of sleeping people and beds and whatnot, the twilight evening having faded gently towards midnight.

The bed she is lead to is open, prepared, and empty. “Sleep well, Ayid, we shall be around in the morning to discuss breakfasting.”

The “harem ghost” bows, and ‘vanishes’ – it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, a moment more to realize the trick of it was to adapt her eyes first to the glow, then to douse it suddenly.

As she falls into slumber, she is pleasantly surprised to find the pillow already shaped to accept her head.

OOC: or, say, that of Medea…

***

Kera will wake under a fine wrap of silk and polar-bear fur, quite light but very comfortable.

The “ghosts” have been busy throughout the evening. And they do take their charge quite seriously.

***

Open Your EYES She forced them open. The lighting was fairly soft-but it hurt. Cabinets along one wall, an IV drip in her arm, guards at the door. a faint ''beeeeep" summoned a woman in dark blue-the Harem's doctor, who yawned with fatigue-and tried to hide it.
"Doctor... how did I end up here? The last thing I remember, you were putting some kind of glove over my hands to protect the burns..?"

The doctor smiles, tiredly. “My apologies, it was truly my fault. We sent you back to bed with what I had thought was a completed treatment. The servants of the harem claimed you made some noise in the night, but nothing much, and you were put back to bed.

“When one of them discovered you wandering the gardens, and muttering to yourself, and picking at your gloves, it was then we knew it was serious. You were removed from the Harem and brought here for treatment.” and I curse myself for acting like a simpleton intern and not checking deeper when I saw you had a fever, girl!

“You had a reaction, possibly to some sort of vaccine or medication you were given. It has been removed from your system, your gloves replaced, and you are in no danger. I should not be surprised if by tomorrow you are back in the Harem. For now,” – she gives a yawn – “it would do us both good to get some sleep?”

She opens the door, calling in a nurse and holding a quick conversation in a frappe of French and Hopi. “If you do not mind, I shall be back in the morning to check on you.”

She smiles, gives a head-nod bow, and departs.

***

"Yes, I am awake," muttered Sadira quietly. "What is it you require?"

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, Miss. But how did you do that? Make them” and she gives a quick glance, “go all silent and broody? They’ve been picking on everyone all day, and no one could stand up to them….”

She looks around again. “Could I sleep here tonight, Miss? One of them accidentally on purpose pushed me into the pools yesterday, an’ I can’t swim good.”

***

Ab-shalom and Greetings to His Most August Majesty, Autarch Constantine Grey, Lord of the Iron Domain, and Suzerain of the Marchlands;

Given the dimensions and weights in your last missive, a single 74SL should be more then capable of handling the load without undue consequence or effort.

We do indeed look forward to the arrival of Miss McKenzie-Grey; if it would not be greatly troubling, our First among the Palace Servants has requested a listing of art supplies she regularly utilizes, along with any she might enjoy dabbling in during her stay, however long.

Vastiva shall in any case look forward to a long and jointly profitable relationship.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

-Ferris-

20-04-2005, 09:45

5: The Tools of the Trade

To the attention of Raahmid Javani, Grand Vizier of the Sultanate of Vastiva, from His Most August Majesty, Autarch Constantine Grey, Lord of the Iron Domain, and Suzerain of the Marchlands;

Having consulted with Miss McKenzie-Grey, she has furnished us with the following list of materials, but stresses that it is by no means comprehensive.

Oil-based paints - mainly the traditional colours ash, charcoal, red and yellow ochre, and lapis (named after the sources of the pigments) but also some others.
Canvases - linen, usually A2 or A1 in size.
Brushes*
Inks - also the traditional colours, with some others.
Calligraphic pens
Pencils - Rötring** 0.2mm 2b, also standard graphite pencils in 4b, 6b and 8b.
Sketchbooks - A4 and A3.
Turpentines
Other things I can't think of***.
I will bring what I have now!

We thank you for your assistance, and indeed look forward to a profitable relationship.

By mine own hand,

C. Grey

Cadillac-Gage

20-04-2005, 10:50

E-Sent "In the Clear" from the Todos Santos University computer lab to Vastiva.

<Postage completed, Connection enabled>
To: Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz Al-Din, Lord and State of Vastiva
From: Sharon Louise Henrik, Student #3437217 Todos Santos University

Hi, I'm Engred's former roomie at the U, she was supposed to call when she got to your country to let us know she came down ok.
No call, no E-mails, no word. We're worried.
Magritte thinks she might've got tangled up in some kind of violent incident, she's worried too.
We'd like some contact with Engred if you can manage it, Sir. I know you must be busy, but we haven't heard from her since she took off from Detrojtja airfield last monday, and Engred's a sort that keeps her promises, so we're all a lot concerned here that something bad happened to her.
Especially with this business about her old man's company and some bad-stuff going on in her family.
Engred's about my best friend in the whole world-if you're not on the up-and-up, I know ways to make you pay for hurting her.

May you never draw the unkind notice of the Almighty,
Sharon L. Henrik

[ooc: Sharon has no idea how well-defended the Sultan's home is, she has no idea what she's threatening-but, like all nineteen year-olds of a certain temperament, she's a little bit addicted to the Dramatic.]

Krioval

20-04-2005, 17:09

Medea's giggling ceased instantly as the Sultan interrogated the lamp as to the matter of the woman's interest or his own sexual orientation. Her confusion was multiplied by the commands given the guard. Raijin's having the Festival?!

“So, you studied politics? Would you care to discuss them over breakfast?”

"If you would like. It has been a while since I have managed to hold a reasonable conversation on the subject, however."

“I would rather assure you, Vastiva had nothing to do with your… predicament. In point of fact, Vastiva was sound asleep until woken up by a rather frenetic servant – a situation which the returning to, in due time, would perhaps be a good idea. Hmmm, my tea seems to have disappeared. Ah, no worries, I am sure it has gotten itself somewhere.”

He offers a hand. “If you would be so kind as to help me take my robe back to my suite, I should find myself rather appreciative, one should think?”

"Vastiva, sound asleep?" The Kriovalian thought for a moment before realization struck. "Oh. Of course." She smiled before continuing. "Since I was led here blindfolded, I suppose I am entirely at your mercy." She grasped the Sultan's hand with a bit of nervous strength. "Where you go, I follow."

Scandavian States

21-04-2005, 02:45

Pulling a pellow out from under her head, she lays it down on the opposite side of the bed and pats it, "Lie down."

When the girl was comfortable Sadira said, "I can do that for two reasons. One, my Great Aunt is a Duchess in my homeland and I'm her chosen heir, learning how to tell people with over-inflated egos to sit down and shut up comes with the territory. Two, people from the Imperium tend to be headstrong and have a sense of justice that has acquired my country something of a reputation because those in power in the Imperium tend to have those qualities in greater quantity than your average Imperial citizen.

"Remember what I said about over-inflated egos? Well, people like The Bitch and Her Merry Band have inferiority complexes a mile wide. That usually leads to two distinct personalities, you have your 98-Pound Weaklings who won't stand up for themselves and your Petty Tyrants, The Bitch happens to be the latter. The thing you have to remember abotu people like her is that they tend to be cowards, like all bullies are, and if you call them out in public they will more often than not retreat and plot to stab you in the back rather than risk an open confrontation. It's why I was confident in turning my back on The Bitch earlier."

"As for the physical abuse you have suffered, I am sorry about that. I have an idea on how to make sure that if she or any of her cronies try that again they will regret it. In the meantime, if she does something to you, let me know and I will deal with it."

Krioval

21-04-2005, 04:11

Ah, how nice to discuss things with you, Commander! My many and various do say a great many good things about you and yours.

At the time of the arrival of your kind invitation, I had not yet decided to accept or deny most any of the candidates within the roster. It was a reasonable shock to discover that Krioval – among others, to be sure – had already inserted their candidate within these walls, on a more permanent basis.

Nonetheless, I have found no fault with young Medea, and I am certain to see much more of her in the future. Though – again, to be sure – there has not yet been any announcement of any sort from our Heralds, so I shall trust to your discretion in this matter.

I do enclose a copy of Medea’s trading card, both the first and second editions, for your records. When a third is issued, I shall make sure one copy arrives safely at your desk.

It is rare for us to have visitors, particularly of your stature, in our Winter months. Nonetheless, the Palace shall be happy to host yourself and whatever and whomever you choose to have come and visit. We have most certainly added you to the list of invitees, following official announcements.

Thank you for your time, it is so rare I do get to discuss such topics with peers and equals.

Sincerely,
Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din
Sultan and State of Vastiva

Raijin read the letter several times, though he was unable to banish the gaggle of Directors stealing glimpses over his shoulder. "Are you going?" Koro asked.

"Vastivan winter, huh." The Commander turned to face Koro. "I think this is a job for Krioval's top diplomat." He watched as Koro's face drained of blood entirely. "Oh come on, it should be at least minus sixty when you go there. They've been having a decidedly mild winter this year."

"You really want me to go there?"

"No." Raijin grinned. "Besides, it would be a slap in Sinjin's face to send along a Director when he replied to me personally. Speaking of which, a little privacy might be nice every now and then. Good way to avoid cold, cold missions. Anyway, I'd better write back. And that goes for you too, Darvek."

The Security Director looked at the Commander. "And Kiv too?"

"I share a bed with that man. What do you think, I'm going to send him around the world for the hell of it?" Raijin turned away from the others and began to write.

I am glad my letter was well received, Lord Sultan. You have no idea the mess that is Krioval these days. The Festival of Fighters notwithstanding, we have suffered the loss of two beloved religious leaders as well. Both the Catholic and the Polytheist communities are in mourning even as we ascend to midsummer. But, like the words of those figures have said, time waits for none. The Festival, and everything else, go on.

I apologize for the rather egregious misstep by one of the papers here. It appears that they decided to invent the story, and to augment several facts of Medea Lakat's past. The paper in question will be shut down pending an investigation into their publication history and whether libel was committed. Democracy can be so challenging, especially to one whose history is science and fighting. I admit that Lady Lakat was in fact court-martialled for murdering a superior officer, but the charge was dismissed shortly after being brought due to extenuating circumstances, and several top military officers were involved in securing a declaration of factual innocence in the case. As far as Krioval is concerned, the entire incident never happened, at least officially. I would be glad to forward all pertinent documents in the case if desired. Perhaps it was wrong of me to withhold this information, but I had promised her that I would find a way for her past to cease following her everywhere she went. Apparently, I have failed.

I will most certainly attend the official ceremony when announcements are made. It is probably best that I remain in Krioval to ensure that the burial rites for the High Priest and Bishop, as well as the Festival, are tended to. After that, I am as free as a leader can become for much of late June and early July. You are also welcome to partake of Krioval's hospitality at your convenience. We are to experience our best weather of the year shortly, with temperatures averaging near thirty degrees, and the sun shines for just over fifteen hours daily now. Please feel free to visit for the Festival yourself if you would like. I can arrange a reception at a moment's notice.

Oh. And please feel free to call me Raijin. After all, nearly all others do, and I would hardly deny the right to the leader of a great nation such as Vastiva.

Lord Raijin Dekker Darklighter, the Light
Commander of Krioval
High Paladin of Solokaro

Vastiva

21-04-2005, 06:30

Morning coffee was as suitable as an early supper, or a late lunch. They sat in a corner, not looking around, seeming to concentrate more on the croissants and jam then on the words both spoke.

“Indeed,” and marmalade spread easily onto a half-croissant, “it is not that bad.”
“Truly, though it could be better.”
“Anything could be better.”
“Perhaps. Are you finished with the cream, or should I call for more?”
“You do realize, that is your sixth cup.”
Conrad gave a short laugh. “Just as the Energizer Bunny, I do find it helps me keep going, and going, and going…”
Voyate joined in. “As you wish, my friend. It is not I who has to stand up and take notice.”
“No, you just need to sit there and take it.”
“Indeed.”
A waitress freshened both mugs of coffee, added another pitcher of cream, replaced the sugar bowl.
Voyate stopped stirring a moment.“There is a rumor.”
“Oh?”
“Not a large one. Perhaps it has not come to your attention.”
“Perhaps.”
“It does involve, for example, an opportunity at a medal.”
“Do tell more.” Conrad settled and sipped from his cup. “Rather sweet. A pleasant change.”
“It seems a distant nation is having a festival of sorts, including feats of arms.”
“Indeed.”
“It is true, I assure you. I have it on good source.”
“That would seem, to be sure, not much of a rumor. This is a large place, many parts of it have contests, including feats of arms.”
“Ah, so true. Danish?”
“Perhaps later.”
“You do not mind? My thanks.” He spread marmalade onto the surface of the pastry.
“I do wonder how you can do that.”
“You might try it some time.”
“I might at that. But, you were saying?”
“Ah, yes. Forgiveness – I had lost the train of thought.” A swallow of coffee. “There is a festival going on in far away Krioval. It seems our Sultan has elected to send a Champion or two, perhaps to earn something for the Museum.”
Conrad nodded appreciatively, called the waitress, ordered more eggs. “Always a good thing to add to our culture.”
“Very true. Particularly when the Champion is known to wear leather.”
Conrad stirred more cream into his coffee. “Indeed.”
“Indeed.” A smile spread upon Voyate’s lips.
“It may have been far better, had he been… removed.”
“For a time is long enough. There would seem to be… opportunities now, there were not before.”
This received a nod. “Excellent. As long as they are not overly expensive.”
Voyate sat back, indignant. “Indeed not! The cost of a paper, of insuring it found a… proper place to be displayed.”
“Desktops, I do hear, are somewhat in vogue.”
“You could say that, you could say that indeed.” Voyate smiled. “It would seem our first problem is – temporarily – indisposed?”
Conrad finished his coffee. “It would seem so. If not for this beastly (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=8720125&postcount=74) weather, much more would happen, and quickly. Alas, such things are not to be.”
"There is time. We are not going anywhere."
"Neither," Conrad waved for another refill, "is he."

OOC: The reason why. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=8699256&postcount=16)

-Ferris-

21-04-2005, 13:14

6: And the heat comes down / Like a hundred suns ...*

In stark contrast to the hurricane raging over Vastiva, in Ferris the sun was pounding like the hammer of God, sending heat-haze rising from the slowly melting tarmac of Augustine International Airport.

In the middle of the day, most people stayed sensibly indoors or underground, if they could manage it; it was only an unfortunate few who had the task of preparing the airport for the Vastivan aeroplane's arrival.

From within the International Departures terminal, Alexis watched them at work, accompanied by a gaggle of assistants and officials; Constantine would not risk anything going wrong today. Her father had been a practical recluse in his apartments for the past decade, and her mother was dead, so she had only a few friends to farewell her.

The media was of course present too, kept at a distance by black-suited Iron Hands, the Autarch's personal security force. Their cameras flashed almost every time Alexis moved. She wished the Iron Hands would do something about that, but many of these people would be from House Grey's own news corps, and guaranteed preferential treatment by decree.

"Oh, I can see it!" her friend Laura exclaimed. "Aren't you scared, Alexis?"

"Very," she replied. They say this Sinjin's a nice guy, but what if he's not? "Too late to back out now, though!" Much, much too late. The thought twisted into a knot at the base of her stomach.

The Vastivan plane was taxiing towards the terminal now. To her eyes it looked very odd, long and thin with four wings joined at the ends; not at all like the bloated, stubby-winged native planes docked nearby. Instead of propellors** it had odd tubes slung under the wings; she wondered how they worked.

Someone appeared at the gate, and the entire milling crowd surged in that direction - attendants, media, and friends, shepherded along by the Iron Hands, and bearing Alexis along in their midst. Laura hugged her tight.

"I'll miss you, Alexis."

She nodded; "Me too."

"You'll write?"

"Every week! Every month. As often as I can get letters out!"

She bestowed the traditional kiss of farewell upon Laura's forehead (Laura being much the same height, she had to stand on tiptoe to do it) and the crowd parted them, depositing her rather flustered before the Vastivans, where some under-secretary from the Autarchy was exchanging various courtesies.

OOC:
* From "You Will Return" by The Muttonbirds.
** Ferris lacks jet engines, primarily because I've watched Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow and it's affected my brain.

The Voltarum

22-04-2005, 00:18

"...yes mommy, I love it!" The ten-year-old girl clutched the stuffed polar bear toy, and hugged her mother as they sat down to eat. Colors swirled around her, and the girl twirled away in her chair as she ate her fish. The potatoes seemed to dance on her plate. Her parents sat across from her, next to the window of the restaurant, laughing and kissing each other. They never seemed to stop smiling. The girl laughed, and sipped on her milkshake. Her pet dog was there. It had 3 legs. The restaurant was bright, vivid, and smelled a bit like sea bass and body odor.

...And then suddenly it went dark. The window, once a sea of yellow and orange was now black, grey, and foreboding. Something was coming toward the girl, and her table...and her parents. Something big, something fast. The whole of the restaurant saw it coming. They yelled, screamed, it seemed, louder than the girl could take. She looked around, wondering what was happening. She saw her parents... still smiling, backs to the window... not sensing anything wrong... She tried to yell, tried to warn them, but they didn't hear.... she was paralyzed...

...reality exploded around the girl. Life was a blurr... someone lifted her up, away from the table... her parents kissed... hell came through the window in the form of an out of control car...an evil clown at the wheel...

...now instantly later.... the girl in some sort of white vehicle, looking, despertly wanting to see her parents... the same, familiar, saving hand keeping her down as a large man in white examined her, talking... but the girl didn't hear... the sirens, the screams, the crying... nothing. She didn't feel... the blood gushing from her leg, the foreign blood dripping on her from above... But she saw... the destruction, the broken window, the white tablecloths covering random shapes on the ground... the steaming car, now half in the restaurant, the inside flushed with green and black...

Neira opened her eyes. Sweat beading on her forehead, tears rolling across her flush cheeks. It had been months... months since she had had the nightmare. She reflexively reached under her bead, hoping to find her polar bear... but pulled it away as soon as she remembered where she was. Stress, she decided. Green and black... She turned in her bed, seeing Ka'tal's all too familiar hand and shirt sleeve, which she knew hid a vicious scar underneath. Her house guard was fast asleep.

Neira knew it was almost morning, so she decided that trying to fall back asleep now was a useless endeavor. Besides, I don't need that again right now... She decided to get up, briefly look around, and hopefully find a shower. She was drenched from sweat, despite the very comfortable room temperature.

As she stood up and started to walk, careful not to wake any of the sleeping girls, she noticed something strange around the room... something she would have had to notice last night. Hunger does some nasty things to the mind, she decided.

She walked up to one of these objects, a pillar, unlike anything she had ever seen before. It seemed to be an image, almost like a TV screen, of the outside world. Where, she could only guess - as the one she was looking at didn't show much of anything except what appeared to be a most intense storm of some kind. Almost looks like Antarctican weather she mused, as the next one she went to gave her much of the same. Despite the storm she now observed, the image was almost intoxicating, and it took the still groggy Neira conscious effort to make herself move away. She would have to inquire about these later, she decided. Or maybe Ka'tal would know...

Walking clear of the gold and silver doorways, she went off to one of the colored doorways, hoping to find a shower facility... She timidly came up to a blue doorway and started to peer in....

Vastiva

22-04-2005, 02:57

~Tower, this is VAL 643, final approach. VAL 643 out~

They had circled the airport twice to be sure. Yes, the runway was the longest the airport had.

It was also a good thirty-nine meters too short for a plane this size.

As they say in flight school, time to wing it. “Pilot to crew, secure for hard landing.”
That was all the warning they got.

The 74SL swung itself into a shallow approach, at the very bottom of “safe” vectors; Hans looked once at Hafid, who nodded once.
“It might work.”
“It might not.”
“Pessimists crash planes.”
“So do optimists.”

The engines howled as the plane descended towards the north end of the runway – and reversed their flow, suddenly slowing the huge bird; avoiding a stall by sheer merit of the box-wings, the huge jet liner touched down softly, it’s speed already being slowed even as the runway appeared under it’s wings.

Prayer… prayer… None came to his adrenaline-soaked mind except the obvious Hope we don’t crash!

He repeated it several times, listening to the engines strain against speed, brakes frictioning against speed…

He pulled the jet to a slow taxi, feathering off the last of the speed in what seemed a slow turn to everyone…

Except Hafid. “One more question, Captain. How do you plan to take off?”

“Very carefully” was the quick answer.

They taxied carefully at the same speed – illusions must be kept – towards the obvious “reception”, slowing as they approached through a flowing easy gait towards a full stop.

“Pilot to crew, prepare for arrival and cross-check.” The intercom clicked off. “How’s our fuel?”
“We’ll reach South Africa easily. I’m not sure I want to try a storm landing.”

A red light on the panel meant an inner door had been opened. “It looks like Vizier Ohana has gotten ready to give her schpiel.”
“You do know, there’s an offer of two thousand crowns for an early picture of a candidate?”
“I had heard five thousand.”
“Indeed?”
“Of course. Though it would be rather… inappropriate to inform the candidate beforehand, or to arrange such photos with them.”
“Absolutely.”
Smiles were traded. “There seems to be nothing against accepting multiple offers, insofar as I understand the offers rumored to exist.”
“Indeed, there does not.”

They assembled at the top of the stairs, carefully out of Fajr’s way as she stood carefully with a small tray holding a piece of bread, a pyramid of salt, and a small lit candle.

There they stood, waiting, as Vizier of Artistic Expression Goldie Ohana completed her round of “entertaining the natives”, and doing it only as a performance artist turned career politician could.

“How did she get in again?”
“I think it was the tit vote.” They chuckled, still safely out of hearing range.

The landing stairs shook slightly as the pair alighted and climbed. “…most certainly, should you be accepted, there will have to be a display of your works, at the very least in Sisu Vaari – but we could arrange for an extended tour of the colonies, and perhaps some of our trading partners. Oh, yes, and allies too…”

As Fajr gave a short but formal bow to begin her speech, Goldie all but snatched the tray from her hands.

“Oh, and these are from Vastiva, representing ‘plenty’, ‘health’ and… well, something else.”
“Peace, Vizier.” Fajr smiled an answer.
“Yes, peace. Anyway, you’re supposed to touch the bread to the salt then touch it to the flame and eat it. Really post-modern, if you ask me, but rather nice in a provincial sort of way.” She held it up, her head cocked to one side, waiting for what Alexis would do.

“I’m going to have to kill her.” Fajr muttered in the cockpit, once the plane had safely taken off and the Vizier – and her latest “victim”- were safely in the back, discussing whatever it was artists discussed.
“Mmmm?”
“One opportunity, and that… bunter slumbitch…!!!”
A half-amused glance went from Hans to Hafid. “Treason is something of a Noah offense, so do be sure the honor is worth it.”
Fajr wasn’t simmering down easily. “Crumbcatching trull – and have you heard how she is speaking? I would not be surprised if the dishclout gave an image of Vastiva of a land full of halfwits and Kajne! Sheisshunde!”
“Easy there, Fajr. Wind yourself up any further, and you’ll make a hole.”
“It’s not funny, Hafid. She’s in there making a mockery of our nation…”
Hans coughed. “More likely, she’s in there making a perfect fool of herself. None of the girls I’ve flown has completely lacked in sharpness. Besides, what can it hurt? Our dear Vizier knows art as we know breathing…”
“But!”
“And,” Hans continued, ignoring the interjection, “at this point there is little to nothing we can do about it. We are, after all, flight crew, not diplomatic staff.”
Fajr pouted, her arms crossed and lip extended in a full huff.
“If you’re serious about this,” added in Hafid, “you might offer to have her over for a meal sometime.”
Fajr went white. “But… but she’s a harem candidate…”
“Who doesn’t know any better.” Finished Hafid. “That is the beauty of it.”
“Hmmmm…”
“And as the Vizier is her official escort, and is supposed to inform her about that sort of thing…”
Fajr smiled – and it was not a pretty smile. “How long is this flight?”
Hans considered. “Sixteen hours at our present speed.”
“Long enough, they’ll need sleep…” Fajr rose, bowed her head quickly, and made her way to the back, resealing the cabin door.
“You realize,” Hans raised an eyebrow at his co-pilot, “you have released a puma among pigeons?”
Hafid shrugged. “Perhaps. But think of the opportunity.”
“Mercinary.”
“You’re just mad because you did not think of it first.”
Hans flew for a few minutes before replying.
“True.”

Vastiva

22-04-2005, 03:21

-Ferris-

22-04-2005, 04:04

7: All's well that ends well.

"Your Majesty? The Vastivan plane took off several minutes ago - I've just got a call from Augustine International confirming that."

"Excellent, Darian." Constantine allowed himself to slump backwards in his chair - not the Iron Throne, which was a painfully uncomfortable, archaic bit of furniture, but an eminently more comfortable couch in his study. "That is that, I suppose - God willing the thing will make it through their weather. In any case it is far from our hands."

"Indeed. Ah - what did the Nameless want with her? If I may ask?"

Constantine shrugged. "The attendants left her at the Inner Sanctum - I wasn't about to enter there again. I don't know, I don't want to know, and now it's over I don't particularly care. I don't think she even remembers it, today. With luck, it will not call on me again."

8: We're off to see the Wizard!

The press of people disappeared around the corner as they stepped out the gate and into the sunlight - only for a brief time, to be sure, but out of the reach of the air conditioning the midday sun was all too bright, the air sluggish and thick.

Fortunately, the Vastivan plane was parked very close nearby on the tarmac. The Vizier talked at a mile a minute, with Alexis interjecting polite noises when she stopped for breath. Ohana was certainly one of the more enthusiastic people she'd met - maybe it was something to do with the Vastivan climate?

Then, finally, they were out of the sun again, in the shade of the plane. Alexis blinked as Ohana presented the tray - a slight lapse of composture. I have to make a good impression!

"Oh! Thank you." She did as directed, touching the bread first to the salt, then to the candle-flame. It tasted only mildly salty to her palate - with one fifth of the country covered in playas or fully-fledged salt deserts, the stuff was practically a major food group of it's own in Ferris. Perhaps also because of that relative abundance, it had very little ritual significance - but clearly it did to the Vastivans. When in Rome ...

Vastiva

22-04-2005, 05:00

"Vastiva, sound asleep?" The Kriovalian thought for a moment before realization struck. "Oh. Of course." She smiled before continuing. "Since I was led here blindfolded, I suppose I am entirely at your mercy." She grasped the Sultan's hand with a bit of nervous strength. "Where you go, I follow."

He gazed at her features a long moment, a queer sort of smile on his face.

A moment later, the gaze is broken as he gives a slight bow of his head. “Your pardon. I’ve quite forgotten your age. Some things are indeed timeless, and beauty is among them… but, no matter.”

The door opens as he approaches, gently drawing her along; and as they pass, she notes Fahima – the “harem ghost” – standing by the door. She gives Medea a small smile and head-nod-bow as they pass.

Sinjin’s body may be headed the other direction, but a hand comes up to point at the ceiling. “Tea!”

“Immediately, my Sultan!” and the young girl dashes off, never having been laid eyes on by Sinjin.

He waits until the footsteps pass from hearing before turning back to look at Medea. “Rather bad memories, some of these palace slaves. I shall have to consider having that aspect fixed.” He gives her a wink and a smile, quirking his head a bit as he looks at her this second time, clearly taking all her features in.

Another blink, and his brown eyes refocus.

“Now, where were we? Ah, yes, getting to where we are going.” He looks at the T corridor they are in, first pointing one direction then the other. “Hmmm,” he shrugs. “Shall we go through the museum, or the gardens? Or the direct route.”

His attention is again on her, and another smile warms his features. “Which would you prefer, Milady Lakat?”

Krioval

22-04-2005, 05:08

“Now, where were we? Ah, yes, getting to where we are going.” He looks at the T corridor they are in, first pointing one direction then the other. “Hmmm,” he shrugs. “Shall we go through the museum, or the gardens? Or the direct route.”

His attention is again on her, and another smile warms his features. “Which would you prefer, Milady Lakat?”

Medea struggled to keep her composure. She had been extremely honest earlier when she said that most men in whom she was interested were either defective or uninterested in women. "Well," she said, thinking, "I have seen neither your museum nor your gardens, but unless your Lordship wishes to show me either in particular, perhaps they could wait until a more...reasonable hour? I wouldn't mind getting right to it." The Kriovalian turned red as she realized what she had just implied. "The conversation, I mean!" she blurted out, eyes now everywhere but on the Sultan's form.

Vastiva

22-04-2005, 05:48

I am glad my letter was well received, Lord Sultan. You have no idea the mess that is Krioval these days. The Festival of Fighters notwithstanding, we have suffered the loss of two beloved religious leaders as well. Both the Catholic and the Polytheist communities are in mourning even as we ascend to midsummer. But, like the words of those figures have said, time waits for none. The Festival, and everything else, go on.

I apologize for the rather egregious misstep by one of the papers here. It appears that they decided to invent the story, and to augment several facts of Medea Lakat's past. The paper in question will be shut down pending an investigation into their publication history and whether libel was committed. Democracy can be so challenging, especially to one whose history is science and fighting. I admit that Lady Lakat was in fact court-martialled for murdering a superior officer, but the charge was dismissed shortly after being brought due to extenuating circumstances, and several top military officers were involved in securing a declaration of factual innocence in the case. As far as Krioval is concerned, the entire incident never happened, at least officially. I would be glad to forward all pertinent documents in the case if desired. Perhaps it was wrong of me to withhold this information, but I had promised her that I would find a way for her past to cease following her everywhere she went. Apparently, I have failed.

I will most certainly attend the official ceremony when announcements are made. It is probably best that I remain in Krioval to ensure that the burial rites for the High Priest and Bishop, as well as the Festival, are tended to. After that, I am as free as a leader can become for much of late June and early July. You are also welcome to partake of Krioval's hospitality at your convenience. We are to experience our best weather of the year shortly, with temperatures averaging near thirty degrees, and the sun shines for just over fifteen hours daily now. Please feel free to visit for the Festival yourself if you would like. I can arrange a reception at a moment's notice.

Oh. And please feel free to call me Raijin. After all, nearly all others do, and I would hardly deny the right to the leader of a great nation such as Vastiva.

Lord Raijin Dekker Darklighter, the Light
Commander of Krioval
High Paladin of Solokaro

Ab-shalom and greetings again, Raijin;

Sinjin, if you please. I oft begin to think I put one head on in the morning and another at night. It is a rather good thing both have a tendency to clear thinking!

Yes, I suppose I must have a copy of all documents, along with the complete version of Medea’s training file, though I do not see how her past follows her at all. Perhaps you would explain?

As it so happens, it would be currently… impolite to leave, and I do not perceive a time in the near future when it will again become apropos to do so, alas. However, there is always a bright side to things, as I might indeed find reasons to be well entertained in the meantime.

In Friendship,

Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din
Sultan and State of Vastiva

Vastiva

22-04-2005, 06:19

"As for the physical abuse you have suffered, I am sorry about that. I have an idea on how to make sure that if she or any of her cronies try that again they will regret it. In the meantime, if she does something to you, let me know and I will deal with it."

The girl beams up at Sadira, makes herself comfortable, and is soon asleep…

But morning comes with it’s own new challenges…

Nova Hope

22-04-2005, 06:23

Shizuka roused from her sleep. She’d been silent most of the time here, observing the others and making mental notes, though truthfully she’d dozed fitfully on and off. With eleven hours difference in the time zones it was no small wonder that she was wide awake at three in the morning. After all supper preparations were just beginning back at the compound. Deciding that staying up now and suffering the tiredness for the day to acclimatize her self to the time zone was best Shizuka gathered up her bathing implements to clean herself. She’d removed the geisha makeup sometime ago so this would be a refresher more than a thorough scrubbing.

Disrobing in the showers she could feel the ghost slip away with her garments leaving towels. With most every one, save one of the newer candidates a young girl, asleep Shizuka has time to collect her thoughts.
None of these girls has served a day in their life. It will be interesting to see how the Sultan reacts, nay, how they react to the Sultan. Perhaps more interesting still will be if the Sultan is interested in my offer of service. While the similarities exist the Vastivian code and my own seem to differ slightly. Squeaking the taps off Shizuka dried herself in the plush towel. I will do my katas and think more on these things. I will observe, though the speculations of the group intrigue me.

Once dried and dressed Shizuka made her way to the garden, as it seemed the only place with the space to spare. Dressed in another silk kimono, of less formal design, she continued her thoughts as she moved towards an open area. The Sultan did seem nonplussed at the press conference, though that could be attributed to other things. No Engred and Medea hold the most plausible theory. Stopping along one of the garden paths she almost let her stoic exterior drop with an audible expression. Kneeling beside the garden path she looked at the little bloom. A new plant to be sure Shizuka had almost walked by it without recognizing it. A fighting lily native to eastern Nova Hope was sprouting here. These Vastivians amaze me. They take such pleasure in the simplest of cultural expressions. Standing and looking about she was able to take in several other Noviet influences in this part of the garden. It seems to have taken to its new home, perhaps I can be the fighting lily too.

Coming to a decidedly open area Shizuka placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. She always liked performing katas with a sharpened blade. Many preferred to use the kendo sticks but she found it sharpened the exercise when the blade was used. Starting the movements slowly she moved with both poise and control. The purpose is to run the heart, and my heart gets a good workout when the lethality of the blade is made so painfully obvious. Thinking back to her youth Shizuka experienced pangs of homesickness as the gentle hiss of the fine blade through the air jogged her memory. She’d cut herself once like this before. She was fourteen at the time and the sword severed her femoral artery. She almost bled to death that day. Allowing a small smirk she thought to herself, it’s also the day I perfected the heart slowing meditation.

The hisses came much more fluidly now. Sixty-four strikes, was the translation of what she was doing. Her muscles tensed and released as she stepped silently about the open space, the only sounds hers and the artificial stream nearby. Now letting her body do the motions on it’s own she left to the realm of her mind. The Sultan has obviously formulated a response to the predicament he finds himself in. Indeed he is most likely moving towards those ends now. It would be safe to say that he will not outright dismiss every candidate, but he may not want the traditional number.

Hard exhalations marked the air as Shizuka moved into the one hundred eight strike combination. The sword’s passage through the air was an almost dull whistle as she moved through the masterpiece of movement. This particular combination was not as common to fighters. Requiring a limpid mind bereft of disturbance the one hundred eight strike combo was one of extreme dexterous and mental demand; not to mention the physical stamina to do it in its entirety in perfect form. Shizuka, while combat trained and capable, appreciated the one hundred eight strike technique not for its obvious lethality to even the most acclaimed swordsman but for the sheer value of the exercise. Its requirements on her body left her in prime physical condition to perform the rigors of the kabuki. Beyond that the process of relegating such complicated procedures to the subconscious kept her mind sharp and allowed her to maintain focus.

I must endeavor to learn more about this power play, rumors and speculation are not enough. I must satisfy the need to be informed. Continuing in perfect for she continued to mull over her thoughts, working up a sweat and limbering her body.

Vastiva

22-04-2005, 06:29

Walking clear of the gold and silver doorways, she went off to one of the colored doorways, hoping to find a shower facility... She timidly came up to a blue doorway and started to peer in....

Beyond the blue doorways lay a variety of pools – still water, running water, wading pools, a waterfall, a stone grotto with no small amount of privacy… vegetation is placed here and there for beauty and presence, and to give the room the illusion of winding paths and a bit of wildness.

Above and around, birds sleep in the semi-darkness, some evident on perches, most not.

Unbeckoned, a “harem ghost” appears near her, just slightly taller. “Pardon, Ayid, but the pools can be dangerous if one is not prepared to walk them. How may this one be of service?”

Krioval

22-04-2005, 06:44

Ab-shalom and greetings again, Raijin;

Sinjin, if you please. I oft begin to think I put one head on in the morning and another at night. It is a rather good thing both have a tendency to clear thinking!

Yes, I suppose I must have a copy of all documents, along with the complete version of Medea’s training file, though I do not see how her past follows her at all. Perhaps you would explain?

As it so happens, it would be currently… impolite to leave, and I do not perceive a time in the near future when it will again become apropos to do so, alas. However, there is always a bright side to things, as I might indeed find reasons to be well entertained in the meantime.

In Friendship,

Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din
Sultan and State of Vastiva

Honored Sinjin,

I thank you for writing again so quickly. The copies of all documents requested are enclosed with this letter. Most of the information has been declassified, in fact, so it was no trouble at all to send. Briefly, Medea Lakat was trained as a special operative in military intelligence, which included, as most soldiers' training does, how to kill. It was determined that she was set upon by an unscrupulous officer who had been reprimanded for several minor breaches of military protocol in the months leading up to the attack, and I personally determined, with the help of several other officers and forensics experts, that the killing was in self-defense. I have also enclosed that report, including the verdict rendered on 17 April 2004 formally clearing Lady Lakat of all suspicion of criminal activity. I would hazard to wager that I'd be of more personal risk to you in that harem than would be Medea Lakat, though I would be equally willing to wager that my presence there would not be nearly as appreciated as hers.

I also understand that the nature of your position requires you to remain home. I often forget that with the extreme mobility of Krioval, not all leaders are able to spend breakfast at home, lunch in space, dinner on another world, and still sleep in one's own bed that evening. Though I do offer the opportunity for you to be "spirited away" for a couple hours if you'd like - consider it as a last resort should things get too intense, at least.

Finally, I would appreciate greatly an opportunity to visit in the not-distant future. Solokaro is credited with bringing the rising sun to Krioval; perhaps I could mimic his grand appearance with a visit to Vastiva in September, flying from the northeast with the dawn? My mythological leanings notwithstanding, though, I come at your convenience, provided Krioval isn't in the middle of yet another crisis. Until then, I wish you the best. Sometimes the calm comes after the storm.

~ Raijin

Vastiva

22-04-2005, 06:48

With morning – local time, around 8 am – the lights perform their magic once again, radiating an imperfect “sunrise” pattern to rouse the sleepers, somewhat.

As the lights come up, so do the “harem ghosts”, patiently looking to the needs of each of the candidates and to each making an inquiry of what they would like to breakfast on – if anything – and where they would like it.

The first surprise comes as they rouse Medea – only to have another woman entirely rise from her bed. The servant makes no comment on the change, only taking her breakfasting order and moving on, leaving the little group to do as they will with the change.

Notably, Medea’s clothing and luggage is still there, it is only the person who has changed.

As the morning continues, breakfasts are served, and on occasion servants ask certain girls to come with them. Many leave, some return, some new girls appear, some things are moved around and some moves out. Ariel, in particular, reappears with a rather smug look on her face, as do most – but not all - of her cronies.

One surprise does come – Engred is lead back in by a blue-robed woman, who escorts her fully to her bed before departing with a nod and a smile. “Now, do call me when your hands itch, little one. We have seen far too much of each other this past day.”

Vastiva

22-04-2005, 07:04

Medea struggled to keep her composure. She had been extremely honest earlier when she said that most men in whom she was interested were either defective or uninterested in women. "Well," she said, thinking, "I have seen neither your museum nor your gardens, but unless your Lordship wishes to show me either in particular, perhaps they could wait until a more...reasonable hour? I wouldn't mind getting right to it." The Kriovalian turned red as she realized what she had just implied. "The conversation, I mean!" she blurted out, eyes now everywhere but on the Sultan's form.

Sinjin’s eyes demurred for a moment, sparing her for a moment. “I have found, in my brief but rather… interesting reign, that the first time someone says something, it may be astonishing, but the second time it sounds vaguely familiar, and by the – oh, fifth or so – everyone is nodding in agreement and forgets there was the least embarrassment. Or disagreement.”

He leans in, finger under her chin, facing her closely with a bemused look dancing in his eyes. “I find it applies to nations as well, do you not?”

Scandavian States

22-04-2005, 07:07

Being propped up on a single elbow, facing away from the main entrance, and staring off into space as Sadira was, she did not notice The Bitch returning. When Sadira did, however, her hopes were dashed. Instead of letting that show on her face, Sadira decided to do one of many things that was guaranteed to set The Bitch's blood boiling; she adopted an imperious look that would make any person feel small, even if they had the higher vantage point, as The Bitch did. On top of that, Sadira arched her eyebrow slightly, as if to ask, how is it filth such as you has not been deposited in the dust bin?

Nova Hope

22-04-2005, 07:27

Shizuka now emerged from the shower for the third time in twenty four hours. Her katas had made her sweat profusely and she felt no reason to suffer the unpleasantness of being unhygienic if she need not have to. Ordering a miso soup Shizuka began preparing herself for the day in traditional geisha style. She wondered what would be expected of her today. Drinking the soup slowly she applied the thick layers of white makeup to her face. She did the process in front of a mirror, though that was almost unnecessary now. Having applied it almost every day for most of her life she could probably do it with her eyes clothes. However attention to detail and perfection was paramount so the almost ritualistic making up continued.

Krioval

22-04-2005, 07:44

Sinjin’s eyes demurred for a moment, sparing her for a moment. “I have found, in my brief but rather… interesting reign, that the first time someone says something, it may be astonishing, but the second time it sounds vaguely familiar, and by the – oh, fifth or so – everyone is nodding in agreement and forgets there was the least embarrassment. Or disagreement.”

He leans in, finger under her chin, facing her closely with a bemused look dancing in his eyes. “I find it applies to nations as well, do you not?”

Medea noted that the crisis had passed. What's more, she noted that the Sultan was actually *touching* her face. Be strong, she repeated, hoping the Kriovalian mantra would sustain her. "Well, my Lord," she said, trying to find just the right words, "I believe you are right. After all, why would so many nations be trying to outdo one another in marginalizing their own minority populations? I note with great interest that many of these leaders are men who worry incessantly that they won't live up to some macho stereotype." She felt as if she were on far more solid ground, and even added, "Lord Raijin uses that weakness against them rather effectively."

Vastiva

22-04-2005, 07:49

"It does work, after all. Particularly when one realizes while it may seem more convincing to sound as if one cares whether others agree with them or not, in the long run, I have found that in not caring in the least what others think, nor having any interest spending energy in swaying them, is the best course. Though, of course I have been called 'monstrous' for believing so, on many occasions."

His head does a slight tilt again as he looks into her eyes.

"Shall we get on to it, then?" he says plainly, a cheshire smile upon his lips.

Krioval

22-04-2005, 08:17

Medea returned the gaze with equal intensity. "Like I said earlier, you lead and I'll follow."

Cadillac-Gage

22-04-2005, 12:36

Engred floated in an 'in-between' state of wakefulness, and rest, until a member of the Palace staff brought her breakfast-a breakfast more-or-less prescribed by the Doctor upon learning that Engred's usual morning meal was a cup of hot coffee and a chocolate donut, or something called a "Sausage Biscuit"-neither of which would be misconstrued by any medical professional as being 'nutritious', or good in general for dealing with the compound systemic traumas of her burns, and the vaccine-reaction. So... she was fed.

Findhorn

22-04-2005, 16:23

It was always hard to wake up. Breakfast in bed helped, though Myfanwy found that porridge, welcoming and nutritious in a china bowl on a solid refectory table, became tricky and unreliable when eaten from a tray balanced on the knees in someone else's luxurious bedding.

Because it clearly was someone else's. There was no sign of Myfanwy's modest sports bag. Instead a spare but elegant set of luggage occupied the space at the end of the bed. And, most eloquent of all, a long lace and satin robe was crumpled amid the covers.

It was the robe that convinced Myfanwy she was out of her depth. Her sleep-T with the teddybear in a nightcap just didn't cut the mustard.

Still, it would do no good to sit here gawking until the robe's owner came back from ... wherever she'd been all night. Old responses took over. Myfanwy straightened the bedclothes, fluffed the pillow -- what next? A shower, surely. At least the loss of her clothes made it easy to decide what to wear. From her backpack she hauled, only slightly crumpled, the homespun robe she had begun making when she was just nine years old.

It wasn't until she collected a few odd glances as she padded back, sandal-shod and comfortable, that she realised a fully professed Sister of the Abbey in typical monkish habit probably wasn't a common sight within Harem walls.

On the other hand ... looking round, she could see a number of sights she wouldn't have expected, either: a geisha, and another figure in a robe (was it just the one?). There seemed to be an untouched bed, too, over there near a very small woman and her friend.

Strolling across, Myfanwy gently lowered her guitar onto the unclaimed space, tossed her backpack down and turned to speak to her new neighbours.

A child! Not a woman, a child! Sweat prickled Myfanwy's forehead. Her stomach clenched.

"And who can say you will not be, when the time comes to be?"

Ach. Wait, a Mhairi. Enough idiots you've made of yourself. She could be kindred, a visitor, who knows. You're so curious, ask, then.

Cadillac-Gage

22-04-2005, 20:55

“Now, do call me when your hands itch, little one. We have seen far too much of each other this past day.” the Doctor had been kind enough-and discreet.

With help from a Harem Attendant, Engred changed into more suitable clothing, (full-length Wool skirt, pressed white blouse, woolen vest and blazer) and had to ask the attendant to help with braiding her hair in the traditional single-braid style of her homeland.

Decently covered, she sought out a quiet place to read the news and wait for her hands to recover so that she could once again use them for more than rough-and-clumsy clamps.

The Voltarum

23-04-2005, 00:19

“Pardon, Ayid, but the pools can be dangerous if one is not prepared to walk them. How may this one be of service?”

Neira nearly jumped, as she did not see the servant coming. "Oh, thank you.. um, I was just looking for the shower?" She was awed by the scene she saw through the doorway... so beautiful.

At that moment, the lights seemed to change behind her... Morning already, she thought. How long was I staring at those pillars?

She turned back to the ghost. "If you could be so kind to point towards the nearest shower, it would be most appreciated...."

**
After finding out exactly where the shower was, and thanking her ancestors* that she didn't try a pink door, she decided to go check on Ka'tal before she jumped in the shower. She strolled over, already seeing Ka'tal awake, and talking to another ghost. "... yes two eggs, and poached, not fried. A side of fresh salmon if you have it... oh for me? I'll just have some tea and fruit." The ghost scurried off as Neira sat back down on her bed.

"Morning Ka'tal, I was just looking around, trying to find a shower."
"Good Idea, my Lady. I too need to be refreshed." She gestured to the ghost that had now left their side of the room. "Your breakfast should be along shortly."
"Thanks Kat, and please don't call me lady, here. That title left me as we left the Voltaru borders... In any case, I think I will try to squeezethat shower in befoe we eat. I'll be right back..."

As she started to gather her things to leave, a woman walked up to the neighboring bed and started to put down her things. Someone else that is new here.. I am not the only one... Neira took interest in the guitar the woman brought with her... and for a moment swore she had seen the woman before. Maybe on the cards...? Ka'tal merely shot an warning glance in her direction. The woman seemed like she wanted to say something, and Neira decided that this was as good a time as any to start making friends.

"Hello... did you just get here? My name is La...um, Neira. And this is my friend Ka'tal. Can you believe this place? I am so excited to finally be here..."

*The Voltaru are not a religious people, and often phrases such as "thank the gods" or others of similar verbiage, are replaced with praise for one's ancestors.. this is intensly strong among nobles.

Vastiva

23-04-2005, 09:41

“As you insist.”

The amazing thing was not that they were not disturbed; it was that they were not walked in upon.

“Ah, and here we are.” Sinjin graciously led the still-somewhat stunned Medea into the room. “I am afraid this is only the main bedroom, but a full tour would take some time and – as you say – it can wait until a more reasonable hour.”

The door shut itself quietly as he led her to the bed. “Do you like it? I am told it is Emperor sized – the size of two Kings.” He gives a rather naughty smile at his own jest. “Traditionally, a girl is placed – naked, mind you – just past the bottom of the bed, and the temperature is made… rather cool. This faces her with a choice of crawling her way up or freezing. Of course, most won’t move until invited – propriety being what it is – but there are always a few…”

He gives a shrug.

A glance around the room shows one table holding several handfuls of gems on its surface – closer inspection shows they are not randomly tossed, but arranged, but not by color or shape or anything which can be immediately discerned. Even the table’s checkerboard pattern gives no clues. There are bookshelves – and the collection is eclectic to say the least, though none of the spines appear cracked. And there is a table, a divan, a few chairs, all the trappings of home and hearth – including a small fireplace, where a brazier with a tossing of coal glows merrily.

“I think, however,” he continues, seemingly mindless of her glances about, “that for now, one might find their way into bed quickly, as morning – while currently distant – does come faster then one might like.” His head tilts again, almost as a dog listening to a whistle. “Do you have a favored side?”

Vastiva

23-04-2005, 09:48

Most of the women – and girls – there began their morning ablutions, chatting back and forth on this, that, or the other thing. The missing ones – and the added ones, each realizes with a start – simply come and go, lead in or out without a seam or pause in the morning’s occurrences. That belongings are similarly made to efficiently appear and disappear is a credit to “ghostly” skill.

Ariel is lead out again, taking her basket with her. She gives a satisfied smirk to Sadira as she goes.

Just as Zukie wakes up with a very nasty case of fleas.

Cadillac-Gage

23-04-2005, 11:01

Official Request to the Office of External Contact and Affairs, Rogue Nation of Cadillac Gage c/o Director Suze Randall, Undersecretary of External Contacts and Affairs from the State of Vastiva

In the course of normal operations and investigations, our office has found it to be currently necessary to request testimony from an individual from your nation on matters pertaining to the safety, security, and sanctity of the State of Vastiva.

We therefore request one of your citizens, Sharon Louise Henrik, be transferred to our custody, for an unnamed period of time as pertains to this investigation. We further do ask that she not be informed as to the nature of this investigation, if such is possible.

Our appreciation for your swift attention to this matter,

Nasiri Yassassin
Director, Office of State Security
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Dr. Suse Randall read the request, then, she read it again.

"God's Balls!!!" she snarled, and looked at her assistant, Piotr with a thundercloud stare, "Pete, when it comes in marked 'urgent', you don't wait for me to be back from a Lunch meeting the Next god-favoured day-you wake me up. I suppose you have at least compiled a file on the person in question in the time you dragged your feet bringing this to me?" her mood was high-dudgeon.

Piotr nodded, and handed over a manila folder only a quarter-inch thick. "Everything we have on her-including her grades...and the next file is her disciplinary history."

Randall set the file down on her already-cluttered desk, "Disciplinary file??" she asked, incredulous.

Piotr nodded. "File. Everything from the Phlynt Canton constables to the Campus cops, to the Todos-Santos police department... and, of course, her visits to various hospitals, clinics, and local healers... Sharon, it seems, starts fights the way that other people breathe."

Suse looked at the file. "Oh for the love of empty skies, she's a NukeE... they're going to think she actually has ability." she groaned, "Pete, send a request to the Vastivans, phrase it brilliantly and politely-before you do, let me read it-I'll be signing it... send the files too-both of them, I want an Extradition Treaty offer on the table while I go talk to Sandra Moghdein over in Justice about arranging the pickup... the stalling tactic should work long enough for us to get our hands on the little brat before they decide to send in a commando-team or worse..."

Piotr cleared his throat noisily, "Ma'am, I don't think that's their style...seems to me they'll give you a reasonable amount of time to clear the local law-enforcement hurdles before they take direct actions-I've looked at their histor-"

Suse cut him off with a gesture, "Not closely enough. If this was some Vizier or guy from their Justice Department, that's maybe true-but didn't you catch the name and the title? 'Yassassin'... root word of 'Assassin'-this is the polite knock before your door gets kicked in."

Vastiva

23-04-2005, 20:32

Cadillac-Gage

23-04-2005, 20:48

Reply to the Office of External Contact and Affairs, Rogue Nation of Cadillac Gage c/o Director Suze Randall, Undersecretary of External Contacts and Affairs

Many apologies for my poor linguistic skills. Having reviewed your response, you appear to be of the belief we wish to arrest Miss Henrik.

This is not the case, I assure you. We merely have some questions to put to her, which require her presence in our nation for a time. And no, Vastiva does not impliment torture or such during questioning.

The request for a formal extradition treaty has been forwarded to our Sharif of Law and Order, Nudbah Nusrullah bin Sayyidah, for review. I am certain a response will be on your desk soon enough.

This does raise the question as to whether you are planning on waiting until such formalities are concluded before discussing the movement of Miss Henrik or not; I assure you, I am empowered to grant any sort of protections you or your nation wish for Miss Henrik in this matter, including an IRCO observer if you wish to go that far.

Nasiri Yassassin
Director, Office of State Security
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Dr. Randall read it-and read it again.

Then, she dialed a telephone number. It rang three times, and was answered.

"This is Doctor Randall at External Contacts and Affairs, could you put me through to the Nuclear Engineering Department... Professor Heisenberg's number...yes, I'll hold..." She reached over to the samovar, and made some tea.
"Doctor Heisenberg! I'm inquiring about one of your students, a Sharon Henrik-ah! you know her, good... Listen, I have here a request-no, she isn't in any trouble...no...no... Doctor, I have some information here that I think your Dean, or maybe your wife would be quite interested in knowing-about you and a certain Freshman last winter-break? The photos are simply adorable, though I don't know how you managed some of those positions... We understand one another? Good. I want Sharon Henrik on the train to Detrojtja by noon-with a packed bag, she'll be escorted, naturally, to my office, if you please... and you will 'hold' that mid-term until she returns, do you understand?" She waited a bit, then, answered, "NO. That will not be necessary-as long as Sharon Henrik's on the train here by noon. This is a Federal Matter, and you don't have the need-to-know."

To: Nasari Yassassin, Director, Office of State Security, Vastiva
From: Director Suse Randall, Undersecretary of External Contacts and Affairs, Cadillac-Gage

RE: Sharon Henrik

Travel from Todos Santos to Detrojtja will take miss Henrik 4 hours. From here in the capital, she will be available when your people are ready to pick her up.
I have spoken with her Professor and he will hold her midterm examinations until she is returned. He is unaware of the purpose for her absence, as it is covered under Federal.

The observer is not necessary at this time.
Based on travel times, it may be more convenient for your people to conduct the initial interview here, rather than heading all the way back to the southern hemisphere from up here in the great muddy north.

ETA on your transport?

Krioval

23-04-2005, 21:04

The door shut itself quietly as he led her to the bed. “Do you like it? I am told it is Emperor sized – the size of two Kings.” He gives a rather naughty smile at his own jest. “Traditionally, a girl is placed – naked, mind you – just past the bottom of the bed, and the temperature is made… rather cool. This faces her with a choice of crawling her way up or freezing. Of course, most won’t move until invited – propriety being what it is – but there are always a few…”

"I am sure Lord Raijin would approve of such a design, though his bed needs only be large enough for five soldiers." Her grin mirrored the Sultan's. "Naked and cold? I suppose that allows for proper evaluation of the other's nipples," she continued, becoming bolder every second. I haven't had good sex in over a year, Medea thought, and if he's half as powerful as people say, I can probably go until sunrise.

“I think, however,” he continues, seemingly mindless of her glances about, “that for now, one might find their way into bed quickly, as morning – while currently distant – does come faster then one might like.” His head tilts again, almost as a dog listening to a whistle. “Do you have a favored side?”

"Direct and to the point." She was loving every second of this. A cheeky grin spread across her face at Sinjin's last comment. "I suppose 'on top' doesn't qualify as a 'side', does it?"

Vastiva

23-04-2005, 21:43

Reply to the Office of External Contact and Affairs, Rogue Nation of Cadillac Gage c/o Director Suze Randall, Undersecretary of External Contacts and Affairs

I thank you for your swift response. A suborbital of Schultarian design has been dispatched. Our pilot informs us it should be entering atmosphere within six hours or so, so we would assume a flight time of nine hours, given a gentle low-power landing and giving space for such things as course alteration.

I also apologize, but due to weather conditions here, could not contact the Sharif of Law and Order in time for him to dispatch a member of his staff to the launch site. I would suppose it does not matter, as is entirely possible Miss Henrik could be delivered to your nation accurately in a matter of hours from the conclusion of our business, perhaps as soon as dinnertime tomorrow should all go well.

I thank you again for your swift attention to this matter; please contact my office directly should any situation in Vastiva – or between our nations - become a concern.

Nasiri Yassassin
Director, Office of State Security
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Findhorn

24-04-2005, 03:18

"Hello... did you just get here? My name is La...um, Neira. And this is my friend Ka'tal. Can you believe this place? I am so excited to finally be here..."

"Hello, I'm Myfanwy Mhairi ap Hwyl ..." She could see the young one trying to repeat the syllables silently. "... but my friends call me Myff or Miffy. I got here from Findhorn yesterday afternoon, but I spent last night in someone else's bed."

Oh, my. Her listeners were already getting that "clanger, Miff" expression. "I mean, the someone else wasn't in it. It was a mistake. I don't know where they were. I just woke up and decided I'd better get out the way before they came back."

You're babbling, girl. C'mon, make some nice. She flicked a glance at the pair and considered. Surely the child can't be the candidate, but I would have thought the older woman ... Ka'tal ... well, why not; think of Angharred back home, she's about the same age, and nobody'd deny Angharred a place in anyone's harem.

"So, where're you from?" she tried. If this conversation went on long enough, she'd surely get some verbal clue.

Cadillac-Gage

24-04-2005, 08:14

Sharon Henrik stumbled out onto the platform lugging a backpack with spare clothes, toothbrush, a bottle of 307 from the labs...and her second-year Engineering books.

Two Regular Army Lance-Corporals met her, and whisked her into the back of a Five Ton truck. "What's this about??" she asked. Silence from the soldiers-her whole trip had been like this practically from the moment Dr. Heisenberg told her she was being sent on 'a special extra-credit project.'

She fidgeted in her leathers as the Army vehicle bumped over the go-slows and entered the Airbase portion of the International Airport. from the open rear of the canvas-covered cargo area, she could see ground crews working on the ready-squadron of Jas-37 Viggens.

the truck pulled a right and slid out of the military zone, and sped across the tarmac of the Civilian airfield.

There was a strange thundering sound, and the truck turned left, wheeling hard to avoid crossing one of the active runways.

The Thunder was getting louder.

It was Huge.

The truck finally jerked to a stop, and the soldiers got out, then motioned for her to follow them...

Into the Airfield Operations shack.

Sharon noticed an official-looking Volvo station-wagon with tinted windows parked outside, and Government plates.

Inside the building, she found herself in front of someone she'd seen once or twice in the newspapers.

"I'll bet you're wondering why I've called you here." Dr. Suse Randall said quietly, and motioned for the soldiers to leave.

"Um...'Yes'?? I'll have you know, my Da' voted Iso last election." Sharon said.

Suse shrugged, "Not my problem-You're going to Vastiva, they'll be here to pick you up in a little while-We expect you back..."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harem, common room, same day...

Engred tapped her gloves against the table as she scrolled through the intranet system, reading newszines and in general catching up on current events.

The Vastivan media showed a decided lack of interest in the goings on of a small nation like Cadillac-Gage... but her Father's Indictments were, apparently, newsworthy enough to cover-as a 'human interest' story tied to a Harem Candidate.

"and people wondered why I left..." she muttered. Having your parents fight is bad, having one of them a Billionaire Robber-Baron of the worst sort, and the other a high-ranking government regulatory official, is somehow worse.

In this case, 'mom' was heading up a witchunt to get 'Dad' tossed into a Glacier-cell for a variety of white-collar crimes.

Engred skimmed through the article, which was nicely unbiased for a change-the locals back home would be choosing sides, the Vastivan editors clearly understood how ridiculous the whole conflict was.

I wonder... Engred started fooling with the settings-Could I manage an E-Mail out with this..?

The interface was clearly designed for someone from a slightly more 'advanced' background. No obvious functions revealed themselves.

Vastiva

24-04-2005, 08:54

Gently, Alexis was shaken awake from her sleep by one of the red-uniformed stewardesses. “Pardon, Ayid, but we are less then an hour from Mosselbaai, and some of the views are breathtaking. It may be some time before you see the sun again…”

Another smile and she nods towards the window and the sun, only twenty minutes or so from sunset.

“You and the Vizier were talking all night long. I trust it was a most interesting conversation – would you care for some supper, or would you care to wait until we set down?”

She nods at her preference. “As you wish, Ayid.”

She returns in a few minutes – Vizier Ohana is still snoring softly across the way. “A sample of our native beverages, usually good for what ails travelers. The simplest term would be ‘sour cherry drink’.” She presents the pinkish liquid in a frosted glass. “Truly, it isn’t bad, there is sugar if you would like some?”

The plane dips a bit as it begins turning towards the southern edge of South Africa. The sun rotates away, now behind the plane.

“A pity. But perhaps…” Fajr removes a device from her belt and fiddles with it; in response, the plane lowers a screen before them both, displaying a perfect view of the sunset, myriad colors – turning softly into blood and darkness.

Krowemoh

24-04-2005, 09:10

((OOC: Wrote while listening to 'Violence Fetish,' by Disturbed.))

Zukie awakes with an odd feeling. At first, it was as if ants or something were crawling on her skin. Instinctively, half-awake, she brushes at her skin.

Then the itching starts. Instantly, she's up to her feet, her hands all over her feline ears, and she shrieks. A blood curdling, ear bleeding shriek. "What the hell is THIS?!" She screams.

Almost just as quick, Ariel's group burst into laughter, followed soon by others. Controlled by the need to rid herself of these pests, Zukie rushes for the nearest pink room, kicking over and trampling anyone in her way, while screaming "Out of my Goddess Damned way!"

With a leaping hop she dives into the nearest bathtub full of water, shoving aside another woman who was about to step into it. "Sorry, I need it more then you." She offered half heartedly, sinking into the warm water, hoping to drown the cursed things.

Kera, on the other hand, having just recently had her vaccine shots a few months ago, wasn't bothered by the fleas. Those that did hop onto her and tried to bite, found her not very tasty, and vacated for tastier meals elsewhere...

Turning her gaze towards Ariel's group, her face contorts into a snarl. Her mind raced, weighing the odds of outright attacking the group against biding her time and plotting something even more dangerous for them. I'm not applying for a position, and since Gowa Industries owns me, the Vastivan government can't throw me in jail or put me on trial, or kill me. But, it also might ruin Zukie's chances... Well, then again, after this, I doubt there's anything anyone can do to make her want to stay... No, their redheaded leader isn't here. I'll wait until she comes back, then I'll have a go at her. Her upper lip remained in a snarl position, glaring at the group with a look that could kill.

Then, a plan formed in her mind a smile coming to her face. Looking around, she spies a few of the Harem Ninjas moving to clear up Zukie's bedding. She flags one down, and asks her to get a sandwich bag for her- "It's for Zukie." -, as well as a pair of plastic kitchen gloves- "I'll need to wash Zukie, and I don't want the fleas to get on me," -.

While she waited for the Ninja to return with the requested items, Kera glances, looking for the perfect canidate, and finding her...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, same time, Outer Jupiter Orbit
Krowemohian Comm Relay Station Cori's Gift
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Ultor Corporation VIP Transport Shuttle Regeal Flower, finally arrives near enough the Space Station to begin the docking squence.

As per protocol, a digital copy of the signed contracts are sent through to Mother, who after quickly reviewing them, would send them through the Gate Generator to Krowemoh.

Yet, Mother detected the typo almost instantly.

Frank Horrigan was still sleeping in the plush chair within the Transport Shuttle when a shrill beeping sound awoke him. "Ugh... Who? Wha?" He asked, half-aware.

"Good Morning, Mr. Horrigan. I am Cori's Gift's Mother. I have detected a typo in the Corporate Release Forms concerning Zukie Irawata. Vastiva has been mispelled Vestiva." Came the feminie voicve of the AI Matrix.

Frank blinked, "Are you sure?" He asked.

"100%, sir." It replied.

"Hmphm. He read the forms. He must have saw the typo. Damn that man. Look, better relay this to the Corporate Offices. I'll remain on station until they decide how to proceed. Also, make sure to note that the representive for Vastiva knowningly signed inaccurate forms." By the hands of Goddess Cori... I can only pray that they do not decide to go to war...

Vastiva

24-04-2005, 10:11

“Eras mia”, he laughs. “Truly, it is a position, though currently a bit buried in ice and snow. Rather lonely at the top, I’m told…” a sad waifishness flashes across his features, just as suddenly replaced with his Cheshire countenance. “If you would allow?”

He reaches around, lifting the robe from her shoulders, tossing onto the back of a chair without a single glance in that direction. “I’m told if I don’t hang those up, they get rumply.”

A gentle kiss to her nose. “You don’t seem to have that problem. Shall we get right to it then?”

He gave a gentle laugh at her blush, noting how far down it went, and willing to explore…

***

Radimir Yursur looked at his watch. “He’s late.”
That got a laugh. “And how, do tell, can the Sultan be late to a meeting he called? Do you plan to start without him?”
“It’s still noon.” The Palace Seneschal’s leg was vibrating against the floor. “There are so many other things that need to get done…”
“Oh, perhaps you’d like to tell the Sultan to wait until you complete some more important task?” Barba Svalbard was fighting hard not to laugh at him again.
Radimir glowered. “There’s… things….”
Both of them bowed as a group of foreigners – intermixed with a few citizens, no doubt trying for a glimpse of a candidate or two – were escorted into the receiving room, given the speech on the décor, and guided out.
“I also hate it when that happens.”
“Oh, and I do not? Everything but counting the silver must be done almost hourly, what with tourists moving about hither and yonder. It’s a wonder Therassi hasn’t shaved some tourist to the quick before now.”
“Therassi is enroute to Krioval.”
That got an elegant shrug. “Most certainly not our concern.”

Radimir shook his head and peered out towards the front door where the honor guard of four green-robes stood impassively. “They’re not at full attention yet. He’s very late.”
“I am?”
They both turned towards the Southern Throne, on which Sinjin now reclined, resplendent in his Robes of State. “Why was I not informed? Was it at least a good picture?”
Radimir swallowed as the guards pulled the doors shut. “…picture, my Sultan?”
“My obituary, did it show a good picture?”
“Ah… I… uh…”
Sinjin let him off the hook with a wave. “Ah well. Did it demonstrate the redecoration of the Palace you both had such a hand in?”

“Redecoration, my Sultan…?” his eyes refocused on the woman the Sultan had…

….sitting in front of him…

…in a royal blue robe….

… and nothing else.

“Uh…” Radimir flushed crimson, his gaze suddenly seeking something interesting in the marble under his feet. Barba had still not lifted her head - and all but fell into a full prostration.

“You both had some other concern to address at this time?”

Both shook their heads, Barba’s still almost adhered to the silver and black marble floor.

“Good.” He considered both of them severely. “Therassi is enroute to Krioval. I expect his replacement to be on duty immediately. I trust his travel account was well seen to?”
“Yes, my Sultan.” Radimir’s head still pointed at the floor. “We also sent the current champion of Nassanuella, and Gelt.”
“Good.”
“… and a trade delegation.”
Sinjin stiffened… then relaxed. “According to their travel packet, it is supposed to be a festival including debauchery. I doubt we could send anyone more debaucherable then a trade delegation. So I commend you on that, Radimir.”
“Yes, my Sultan, thank you, my Sultan.”
“Barba, I am told there will be five more guests to round out the numbers to the full one hundred and ninety-two. You will need to set aside a room as a studio in any case, and see to acquiring whatever supplies could be called upon.”
The woman gave a quick glance up from her place on the floor - “Yes, my Sultan” – then dipped her head back.
“Radimir, see to the many accounts and payouts. I believe there will be at least one hundred and seventy of those.”
“Yes, my Sultan.”

Sinjin watched his head bob again – and laughed.
It was not entirely pleasant.
“Come now. You two are certainly part of this, as it would have required both of your services to create this series of events.” His foot planted on Medea’s behind. “Stand up”.

As she did, his hands once again removed the royal blue robe from her shoulders; she felt more then saw him stand behind her.

“This is a woman, soon a member of the Harem. You will be seeing far more of her, so I suggest you both take your opportunities where you find them. You plotted, you planned, you executed – and now this is upon you. Come! Look! See what you have wrought onto Vastiva!”

Neither moved an inch.

Sinjin replaced the robe, sat Medea back down with gentle pressure on her shoulders. “Radimir, listen well to what I say - I am free, no matter what rules surround me. If I find them tolerable, I tolerate them; if I find them too obnoxious, I break them. I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do. There is no power above mine, and there is no decision of any which I cannot fold into a pretzel at a whim.

“At all of this, I have found it to my liking to surround myself with those I have usually found to be of sound mind and good council. That now I have several nations attempting bribes, subtle persuasions, enticements of all forms – that I have press releases galore and more flowers on my stoop then I know what to do with – that there are so many who wish for a glimpse, if not a picture which can be cozened out of some member somewhere to publish and misrepresent…”

He exhales loudly, eyes sharpened.

“I have kept an open door throughout my reign, and I do so for good reason – that I find good advice from trusted sources to be euphonious, either in public or in private. You will note, however, I have not decided to cast down my scepter in favor of another; nor, you may be assured, shall I in the future, until they wrest it from my cold, hard hands. This means that I – and I alone – decide what is best for Vastiva. Your collective employment is to carry out those wishes, or to bring to my attention your reasoning or imaginations of why these things are not to be.

“If you – or any member of my staff or my councils – finds it necessary to breech that protocol again, it is my feverent hope you will choose to do it in front of me next time.”
“Yes, my Sultan”
“Yes, my Sultan”
“You are both forgiven, and both excused. I consider the matter where you are concerned to be closed. Ay’it Akabari Vastiva.”
“Nahime, my Sultan.” They intoned at once. Neither lifted their heads as they backed towards the door – at the midpoint, both swiveled as if on pins, and all but ran from the throne room.

Sinjin considered their backs as they departed, even as the guards outside resecured the doors, leaving them entirely protected – and quite alone.
“Power is an interesting thing, absolute power even moreso.” He looked downward at her. “If you’re done looking around the reception throne room, I have a few more meetings to be late to…” He grinned impishly at the last, drew her up and out the back door – once more towards his suite.

Vastiva

24-04-2005, 10:37

As Zukie washes franticly at the fleas, one of Ariel’s many steps next to the bath - “Here kitty, catch” – and drops a crimson red cylinder into the bath, turning herself immediately away and drawing the curtain shut.

The Polar Bear Stinger™ goes off almost at once, coating the catgirl – and most of the water – in a thick, red soup of pepper foam, intended to disable a creature of nearly two tons in size.

To her, in the smaller area, the intense burning immediately floods the water, fills her ears, drops embers in her eyes and flames down her nose, her mouth, everything.

“HEY!” Aliandra’s voice shrilled even as she threw her book at the attacker, catching the edge on her head. “YOU STOP THAT!”

“Quit it, brat!” A stiff backhand from a ‘bystander’ tosses her backwards into the larger pool at the center of the room. Even as she hits, she screams “I CANT SWimmm….”

*SPLOOSH*

-Ferris-

24-04-2005, 10:46

9: The closing eye of God.

"Ah! That is beautiful. My thanks."

Sunsets from the Ironspire were usually things of wonder - the altitude of the palace, and the ever-present smog from the factories below, combined to create truly spectacular views. But this one, with the shoreline of South Africa stretching away far below, was something rather magnificent.

Definitely to be cherished, since as the stewardess said, Vastivan winters were cold and very dark. Alexis was looking forward to that, in a way - or at least, looking forward to seeing a land where the sun - the blazing eye of God, in Ferris' native religion - didn't rise for whole months of the year.

"Yes, it was," she agreed, "The Vizier is very -" She hunted about for a word in common English to translate a Krismen loanword in Ferris' dialect - "Very cultured, I think. And supper would be wonderful - nothing heavy, please, not in the air, but I think I shall starve if I don't eat soon.

"Thank you," Alexis said, accepting the glass, "No - no sugar, thank you." She sipped thoughtfully.

"Oh, there goes the sun. Oh, thank you!" she smiled. "I seem to be saying that a lot this evening - you Vastivans have made me feel very welcome. Oh, that's very pretty."

OOC: *Krismen; a human subspecies (Homo sapiens deserta) native to Ferris, adapted to the desert conditions. Their native language has supplied a lot of words to the Ferris-ian dialect of English.

Nova Hope

24-04-2005, 11:27

Shizuka knew that something was going to happen. Watching the others waiting for someone, the bulges, and the lack of bathing were all tell tale signs that these women were conspiring. The nature of their relation with some of the other members of the Harem was also more than slightly suggestive.

Now with this attack on the feline and the strike against the innocent Shizuka felt she had to act. If I do not I cannot say that I have protected those who I was able. Sizing up the fact that she was vastly out numbered Shizuka reached to her still present katana and stood purposefully. With a determined look in her eyes she set the katana to her side. With the long hilt sitting in the crook of her arm the blade was angled back thirty degrees from her periphery. Her left hand worked quickly at the belt, tying a bowline.

Her long strides have brought the group into her threat range. With eyes burning Shizuka had only the tenants of her code in mind. She saw not the people about her, only the tasks she need accomplish.

Bringing the katana forward with a thrust the blade rotated clockwise. Shoving one of the women into the bath, currently occupied by Zukie, with the hilt of her sword she moved into the group of women whose cackled quickly ceased. With a swift overheard stroke, which brought the blade from six o’clock to three o’clock, she sliced open several of the shampoo bottles. Flicks of the wrist saw to it that the halves made their way over to Zukie, splattering shampoo over her, albeit in patchy pattern.

Her other hand, having finished the bowline, snaked her cord belt from her waist. Flipping the cord over one of the ornate statues Shizuka looked to hook the non-swimmer. Lifting a foot to brace against that same statute Shizuka forced a grunt as she dealt with the two in a miraculous feat of ambidexterity.
“Please ma’am, grab the belt.”

Scandavian States

24-04-2005, 19:09

Sadira's response was less sedate than Shizuka's. Upon hearing her ward yell and throw a book at one of The Bitch's toadies for assaulting the neko she was already up and prepraed to intervene, but then they made the mistake of also assaulting the girl she had promised to protect.

A stiff, but not quite so hard as to be lethal, closed-fist backhand to the larynx to the person who had in turn backhanded her was enough to drop the toadie to her knees, fighting to regain her breath. Advancing in long strides towards the groups, she noticed one of them turning and taking a couple steps towards her. Acting upon long-ingrained training and instinct, Sadira grabbed her opponent's lower arm in an overlocking grip and spun with the flow of motion that her adversary had presented. The girl, who had not expected the move had no choice but to move along Sadira's axis, and with a sharp twist of her arms and release, Sadira sent the toady flying through the air while spinning in opposition to the vector upon which she now soared. A sickening crunch sounded as The Flying One's legs impacted violently with another toadie's ribs, and then The Flyer completed her evolution of movement with her head hitting the shin of the one she had impacted. Unfortunately for them, they went splashing into the pool as well, and with one of them knocked out and the other with broken ribs that could turn into a fatal injury while she was in the water, the situation had seriously deteriorated.

Taking a couple steps back and entering a defensive stance, Sadira began to speak, "Up until now I have been pulling my strikes, under normal circumstances at least one of your number would be suffocating to death had I not. Now the lives of two of your friends and that of my ward are in danger. I would strongly suggest that you call it quits right now and pull your friends out of the water, because I will be doing so for my ward and if any of your attempt to impede me I will kill you without hesitation. The choice is yours and you only have ten seconds to make it."

Cadillac-Gage

24-04-2005, 19:16

screams “I CANT SWimmm….”

*SPLOOSH*

Engred heard the shriek as she was reading. Crap. she turned, and saw a riot building on the other side of the pool-room.

She also smelt pepper and her ass itched.

There is a certain kind of person, who volunteers at a shelter for battered women-as the security guard. She was up on her feet before her brain had time to reason the situation out, and on her way through the blue door.

The smell from Zukie's pool was awful- strong pepper-spray, wet bodies. The fight was still small enough to break up (maybe).

"Break It UP!! BREAK IT UP!" One of the other girls in the shouting and shoving match tried to push her in. While the preservation gloves aren't all that useful for eating, or typing, they do make splendid clubs, and she could use the same reinforcement to act as a 'hook'.

In this case, catch-hip-spin-over the ankle and down. "I Said, Break it up! she made it into the throng and through to where Shizuka stood, steel bared.
Her other hand, having finished the bowline, snaked her cord belt from her waist. Flipping the cord over one of the ornate statues Shizuka looked to hook the non-swimmer. Lifting a foot to brace against that same statute Shizuka forced a grunt as she dealt with the two in a miraculous feat of ambidexterity.
“Please ma’am, grab the belt.”

The non-swimmer wasn't listening-she was panicking.
People have been known to drown in the shallow-end of a pool by panic.

"Well... I really liked that skirt..." Subtlety aside, she tore the skirt's buttons to free her legs, and into the water she went.

The top layer was doped in pepper, and it was irritating.
The stiff gloves covered her burns and injuries well enough-leaving her paddle-handed but still able to flex at the elbows.

Engred's swimming style to miss drowning relied mainly on leg-power. "Hang on... I've got you..." she slid an arm under the flailing girl's armpits, and pivoted her own position in the water, drawing them both backward to the edge of the pool. "I don't have my hands, dear, you must grab the rope." she hissed. Her eyes were watering from the fumes, and her nose was beginning to run.

At the edge of the pool now, Engred fixed one of the half-circle of belligerants around Shizuka with that same glare she'd used to clear the Pink-Room last night. "YOU!! Help her OUT of the Water-[b]NOW[/i]."
Unconsciously, she was mimicing Aunt Therese barking commands to an unruly teen.

One of Ariel's little pals came over and helped the girl out, warily watching the blade, and cowering before Sadira's wrath.

Engred, meanwhile, thumped her sheathed arms up onto the pool-deck, trusting the now-sodden cloth of her shirt to the non-skid coating of the poolside to lever herself out of the water, hissing and spitting curses in the Ancient's tongue* the whole way.

"...I've a mind to give the lot of you a paddling to keep you from sitting for a week..." she muttered, finally ashore again, and counting noses like a schoolteacher-or an angry farmwife with disobedient children.

some of them quailed. Some. some groaned on the floor, or were being helped.

"NOW... Which one of you Sthondats started it?" she asked, drawing herself up in a dignified (and well-balanced) stance several feet from the water's edge.

[*This sounds like two tomcats tied together and slung over a clothesline fighting-Engred's diction would make her Teacher proud-although the use of invective would also make his neck-ruff stand on end.]

Vastiva

24-04-2005, 19:25

They back off - but there is blood in their eyes, and not just from the scent of torched cat coming from the bath.

One of their number holds a second Stinger, obviously considering action...

Between Shizuka's blade, Sadira's stance - and Engred's appearance - the group wavers between action and inaction...

plink goes the second pin on the floor.

The second Stinger arcs into the air...

...several girls look up, watching it rise...

... eight others look away, covering their head and faces with their robes in a hard tuck...

...and detonates, showering the area in thick, burning foam.

Aliandra grasps the rope desperately, spitting out water - and is showered in foam as the room turns into a slippery mess; the combatants grab whatever is around - vase, bottle, candlesticks - and descend on Sadira, some throwing objects towards Shizuka in an attempt to deprive her of that blade.

OOC: Five on Sadira, three on Shizuka. The last one is out of it as well, blinded by the foam bomb. We have combatants and noncombatants in the room, plenty of people getting a good taste of what these things do. And do read the OOC thread first!

Vastiva

24-04-2005, 20:00

OOC: Alright, Engred is debilitating panicked noncombatants... this should add to the confusion on the floor...

Cadillac-Gage

24-04-2005, 20:22

[ooc: I guess I got the positioning wrong, then-Engred was supposed to come out of the water pretty close to Shizuka (Shortest route in, and remember, she was swimming 'crippled'...), the angles would put her in the same line of fire-or so I thought.]

Nova Hope

24-04-2005, 20:25

Shizuka saw the pin loose and the bomb fly. This one was not going to be so controlled as the one in the bathtub. Wrapping the loose sleeves of the kimono around her face she did her best to protect her eyes. Wrapped up like this, her kimono would be protecting most of her body. The pepper still stung like fire though. The second that the foam contacted her robes she shed them with haste, making sure the foam had as little contact with her skin as possible. Now standing in her under robes she grit her teeth and watched as three came at her, mostly throwing weapons of convenience in an effort to disarm her.

Her eyes fine but her skin flame licked, and growing red with irritation, she felt the young Aliandra pull on the rope. Centring her mind she disregarded the burning about her and concentrated on the task on hand. I am nothing, there is only the task. I must put myself into this, and remove these weaker ones from harm.

With the cord wrapped around her fore arm she pulled, hard. Pushing off the statue with her braced leg she began to hoist the woman, very slowly, out of the water. When the other began throwing objects at her she slipped in the burning foam, dropping the woman back into the water a foot. When the next object came sailing at her head a deft swipe of the sword split the glass with very little concussive force transferred into the glass. Indeed the vase did not shatter until either side struck the wall and floor beside her. Still struggling to hoist the woman out of the water, as the burning foam left almost no traction on the tiled floor, Shizuka made a calculated disarmament. Driving the sword straight down into the tiles she felt it sink into the cement beneath. Reaching behind her head she removed one of the straight, eight inch long, metal pins she used to hold her hair in proper Geisha style. With a driving snap of the elbow for sheer force and a flick of nimble fingers for direction the pin found itself proudly displaying its decorative ribbons from the patella of one of her attackers. (OOC: The piece just under the kneecap. She should hopefully have a locked knee joint now.) Drawing the other pin she gave a look of cold death to the other two and spoke in a seething tone, spittle spaying from her mouth.
“The cat was your target let me remove this innocent from harm.” This of course was accompanied by a good hoist on the two in the pool as the sword, now perpendicular to the ground, have her a point to brace off as her leg extended from the statue.

The Voltarum

24-04-2005, 20:58

"So, where're you from?"

Neira, thankful that "Myff" gave her the opportunity to use that name, got a calming sense from the women. Xana used to tell her that the Vektori were the best at reading people, and that Neira had the gift, passed down from her ancestors. Neira believed it too - she always had a good sense of who to trust, and who to be wary of, and she was rarely wrong. Myff was a perfect case of the former.

"Both of us are from The Voltarum, a regional neighbor and ally to Vastiva. A native antarctican, if you want to think about it that way..."

Ka'tal, distant as if focusing on something else, broke in. "Excuse me, my... Neira," she got out with a slight grimace. "I will be right back, I have to go wash up."

"Of course Ka'tal." Neira turned back to Myff, and looked into her eyes. She had to trust someone.

"As I told you, I just arrived here myself... and your story about 'someone elses bed' got me thinking... there are only supposed to be about 192 of us candidates, right?" She waited for the nod in agreement. "Yeah, well in my bit of insomnia last night, I started to take notice of the number of women in here... I mean, I don't even see some people that I remember from the cards... granted, of course, they could be up in the apartments with the other group of candidates... but still, there have been at least 160 women in here at any one time... and even taking into account people like Ka'tal who are only here as companions, there are stilll way too many people in here...with all the people coming and going, there has been more than 192"

She paused, hoping she wasn't babbling. Myff still looked interested, despite the long response to her very simple question.

"It leaves me with two possibilities. One, there are no women in the apartments, and that choice was some sort of test they gave us... or two, and more likely, there are people in here that are not candidates... observers, people watching our every move, testing how we react, or if we are really worthy of being part of the harem. Maybe the empty bed you occupied was for someone who failed?" Or maybe you are one of those observers...No, she is trustworthy, and besides, the diet is all wrong...

Neira blinked a few times, catching her breath... She turned, just as a ghost came with her breakfast, just as Ka'tal had ordered it. She blushed, now realizing all she had just said. "I am sorry that all that just came out... I hope I did not offend. A young girl's energetic mind... and you were the first to talk to me..." She smiled weakly, and took a large bite of her poached eggs... never taking her eyes off Myff.

**
(ooc: man good thing i refreshed before i submmittted this lol)

Ka'tal had seen something rather strange events in the last few moments. One of the candidates, the feline one who she remembered from the cards, had been rather hasty at leaving her bed. She had rushed into the nearest shower room, where several others had followed. Ka'tal sensed the hostility, the struggle. She needed to know who this involved.. it might be useful in the future in protecting Neira.

She entered the room, and instincts took over. She saw a canister thrown up in the air, heading toward the ground. She dove and took cover behind one fo the showers, and heard the explosion outside. A stinger bomb, she concluded... the Vastivians were known for these, and she had seen a few in her country. She looked on as she saw several combatants come toward a woman with a katana and another women trying to defend herself. The attackers were definitly women from the harem, but their movements were definitely military.

Ka'tal grabbed the nearest shower curtain rod and rippped it from its mooring. the woman had now shed her katana and was trying to rescue two people from the pool. Ka'tal advanced on the two still attacking her, and swung the rod as a bow, as she had been taught since the age of 5. It caught one off guard and Ka'tal knocked the legs from under her. The other glared at her, as Ka'tal swung twice, knocking the candlestick out of her hand. Ka'tal swung again, and the attacker caught the rod with a free hand, twisting it as she despertly tried to disarm the Voltaru. Won't the Sultan be surprised when he has this in his bedroom, she thought, as she twisted back and used her leverage to throw the rod toward the pool. Momentarily distracted, Ka'tal swung her arm twice, connecting to the face and neck of the attacker. The woman fell to the floor, unconscious.

She turned, wary of any other attack, fighting the intense pain her eyes were now feeling...

Krioval

24-04-2005, 21:05

Medea Lakat had been quite used to being nude in front of men and women alike. Medical examinations in the Kriovalian military had quelled any sense of unnecessary modesty, and as the advisors to the Sultan desperately sought to avoid gazing directly upon her, the Kriovalian woman stared forward almost in defiance. Let them say one word about it, she thought evilly. Things have already moved out of their control. She watched with not a small amount of satisfaction as the advisors were chastened, though a chill ran down her back as Sinjin described his ability to flout or re-create law at his will. Even Commander Raijin isn't above the law! Does this mean that I could simply be dumped in the cold on a whim? Her more rational mind quickly overrode such thoughts, as if to remind that powerful people are often scrutinized, and 'dumping people in the cold' often could draw undue attention. Not to mention Raijin's protection, distant as it is now. Finally, the meeting came to an end.

Sinjin considered their backs as they departed, even as the guards outside resecured the doors, leaving them entirely protected – and quite alone.
“Power is an interesting thing, absolute power even moreso.” He looked downward at her. “If you’re done looking around the reception throne room, I have a few more meetings to be late to…” He grinned impishly at the last, drew her up and out the back door – once more towards his suite.

"Uh...done looking? Gods, yes." Perhaps it was a bit brusque, but at the moment, Medea Lakat was cold and somewhat concerned as to her ultimate fate, though she had caught some words that indicated her eventual induction into the harem. What have I got myself into? she asked herself. The answer was readily forthcoming. His pants. With that, she followed the Sultan into his private suite.

Krowemoh

24-04-2005, 21:32

Zukie felt as if she were being doused in liquid magma, her skin burning, and she found it was difficult to breathe. Then, a cooling sensation came to her as some one poured shampoo on her, that at the very least stopped the burning sensation somewhat.

At least the fleas were no longer biting her now...

Kera, on the meanhand, hears a loud commotion from the Pink rooms. A large fist fight appears to have broken out, with Zukie still in there. She stood, checking around herself. I'm no soldier. I'm barely sixteen! The GUARDS! I have to alert the guards! The thoughts raced thgrough her mind as she made her way towards the door they had all came in through before, with full intentions of informing the green robed guards outside with guns that there was a fight in the pink room...

Nova Hope

24-04-2005, 21:41

Shizuka nodded to the woman. It was not that she was rude merely that there were other pressing matters. With slack in the fighter’s ingress she was able to pull the woman clear from the water. Assured that Alaindra was stable on the side of the main pool Shizuka released the cord and pulled the sword out of the tile in a swift upward thrust. Once again armed Shizuka felt much more confident in her position.

With a quick slash towards more shampoo bottles she felt relief from the irritation, though not perfectly so, as it splattered over the herself and ally. Her next slash with the weapon was towards a woman coming towards the back of her new ally in arms. Disarming the woman of what appeared to be a small ornamental fetish or statue. With three circular steps she brought her back to the back of her new comrade. Now with both sides covered, by the razor sharp katana or by the trained fists of Ka’tal, Shizuka looked about the room to take into the scene.

Speaking over her shoulder to Ka’tal Shizuka queried the opinion of the other woman.
“Should we assist the martial artist just beyond? She is fairly out numbered.”

Cadillac-Gage

24-04-2005, 21:49

[ooc: Edited to reflect positioning.]

Engred crawled back to her feet, Girls were running in panic. She turned, and looked.

the Pepper-Foam bomb had made quite a mess, and several young women were on the floor, weeping and burnt. the brawl was raging across the room, and there seemed to be no Harem-attendants within sight.

"Bloody Lovely" She growled, and looked at the clumsy-clubs she had for hands.

With gentle (as gentle as possible) prodding and occasional shoves, she started clearing the more dazed and frightened ones in the direction of the doors.

A few seemed to be keeping their heads, and Engred barked at one, "Help that girl next to you up, and out of the room!" The large-eyed brunette snapped out of it, and started helping a blonde girl to her feet.

Engred focused on trying to establish some kind of orderly retreat for the confused and frightened-and help for the injured bystanders.

There are ways to learn command-some do it in Noble Houses of long traditions, others in the Military or Civil Service... Engred learned hers from two sources, her Aunt, and Magritte.

A hurled object-a miss from the brawl on the other side, zipped past her head, and landed in the water.

"Where are the Damn Guards?" she snarled under her breath-not a single Harem Ghost was in sight, nor were the green-liveried guard personnel.

She stopped, and stooped down to clumsily lift a girl shrieking from something in her eyes, "Come on... I'll get you to a doctor... grab my arm..."

[i]Better be near...just damned Better

Engred took a last look-and marked the fighters in her mind.

Vastiva

24-04-2005, 21:56

Meanwhile, in Cadillac-Gage....

The huge Schultarian Komomerenketsan dipped through the atmosphere, its skin blazing red as it cut through, and into the deeper layers.

~Cadillac-Gage tower, this is VAL flight 904, requesting final approach. We will be in sight of you in… eight minutes.

The black bird curved into a long spiral, trading altitude and speed for control, taking in the view from far above – and coming in for a traditional runway as clearance was given, landing easily and taxiing towards the airports operations center.

Except for the trapezoidal body, and under-body engines, it could have been mistaken easily for a Concorde, or B-1.

At it’s stop, the otherworldly whine shuts down, the door opens – and a figure waits for the “airport stairs” to be brought.

When he sees Dr. Suse Randall, he gives a formal bow. “Ab-shalom and greetings, Dr Randall?”

“No guards?”

He gives a questioning look. “No, Ma’am. Just me and my crew.”

Scandavian States

24-04-2005, 22:02

Sadira cursed mentally as the two remaining idiots attacked. She honestly didn't know what possessed them to strike after she had explicitly warned them not to, but that didn't stop her from blocking the blow coming from a candlestick, spinning on the balls of her feet, and delivering a vicious backhanded fist to the temple of the wielder of the makeshift weapon. Sadira didn't know if the girl was dead when she dropped, but the potential to kill somebody with that kind of strike was there.

Sadira then shifted her attention to her remaining opponent. They circled each other, quietly assessing one another. The girl attempted to bring the bottle down in a high, sweeping blow, which allowed Sadira to step inside the girl's guard. Grabbing the girl's wrist she guided the blow so that her arm would wrap around Sadira's body, then Sadira did something she had trained for but had sincerely hope to never have to do; placing the girl's head into a tight headlock so that he arm was practically wrapped around the girl's throat, she jerked upwards while leveraging her body backwards. The snap was gut wrenching, but Sadira did not have time to think about it.

Scrambling back towards her bed, she dug through her bags quickly and pulled out her bokken. The wooden practice sword would not be doing any slicing or dicing, but it would still do serious damage if it hit another person.

Cadillac-Gage

24-04-2005, 22:02

Dr. Randall sighed, and made a hand-motion. Sharon came out of the ops shack, and looked at the hypersonic transport with wide eyes. "Wow... I'm taking that?"

The flight-officer nodded.

"Mind your manners, Young lady-the Vastivans put a lot of store on good manners." Suse commented. Sharon jerked, and nodded, "Right..." she walked up to the foot of the stair, "Permission to come aboard, sir?" she asked.

The crewman at the door to the plane looked temporarily nonplussed, then, he nodded.

Sharon boarded the plane without a glance backward.

Gnufasur

24-04-2005, 22:12

The black robed Shinto Preistess rose up from her sitting spot as a commotion came to her from the pink rooms. She could hear hissing sounds, and the sounds of battle. Girls streamed from the room like rats fleeing a sinking ship.

Discarding the spirit paper she had been idly doodling on, the Priestess moved to near the door way, glancing sidelongs through her veil to watch the happenings inside.

Three women, one wielding a katana, the other a shower curtain rod as a bo staff, and one with her bare hands, stood against a collection of at least fifteen other girls. All whom at one time or another were in the Negative Aura Woman's group. She watched the group fight, taking notice that the women took up fighting stances that could only be special forces training. Hmmmm... These are not applicants for the Harems. Perhaps, they are Vastivan Assassins... It would seem that this plot thickens every moment. If they are assassins, then whom is the Negative Aura Woman? I highly doubt that this is simply thinning the competition. Something greater must be at work...

While her EHAV Combat Training would have proved very handy in assisting Sadira, Shizuka, and Engred, Sae didn't move to enter the pink room. She simply watched, waiting to see what would come of this.

Yet, she wasn't unaware of her own surroundings. While she herself couldn't think of a reason the Negative Aura Woman would want her removed, she couldn't rule out the fact that she could very well be attacked like the others. She braced herself to react to anything that came to her...

The Voltarum

25-04-2005, 01:09

“Should we assist the martial artist just beyond? She is fairly out numbered.”

Ka'tal looked over at Sadira, and watched as she took out the two women left near her. "Looks like she is handling herself very nicely." She looked around. "Only two left that are mobile. The one you just disarmed and one more over by the bathtub. We best finish this before we are interrupted... Guns can be so... inaccurate."

***

Neira looked up from her conversation. There was a growing noise coming from the pink doorway Ka'tal had entered a moment ago. Now several women were coming from the doorway, some in pain, and covered in red foam. One girl jumped up and looked like she headed to get the guards. Neira shook her head. Idle hands... Ancestors, guide me... My beloved Ka'tal, let us hope this does not get us kicked out of here...

***

"And I thought the Voltarum's weather is bad... Guy, have you seen this?"
"We are only a few thousand miles away, Al. The weather is not that different... its still antarctica, after all... and yes I've bloody well seen the damn storm. It hasn't changed in hours."

Al gave him a silent dismissal. The two had been cooped up in the hotel for days together, trying to gather information about the harem and her candidates. It been an exhaustive and fruitless search. These Vastvians, Guy decided, were damn near insane about this whole process. The things he has seen, many of which he wish he hadn't seen, had been alarming. But overall, nothing the intranet told him gave him any solid lead or any story he could run to help the Voltaru girl's chances. He had put together a piece, sorting through random information and rumour from several sources. Hopefully the minister would be satified for now.

He pressed send on his encypted email account. The story should be ready for tomorrow night's news, he thought... probably have some great promos during Natural Selection.... He turned to his cameraman. "Al, lets go get lunch."

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 02:50

Sharon was dutifully strapped in place by a red-uniformed stewardess. “Have you had anything to eat or drink lately, dear? No? Good. Here’s a bag just in case.”
“I’ve been on a plane before!”
The stewardess gave a kind smile. “Not like this one, dear. Hold tight.”

As the door sealed with a long hiss and the engines began to hum again – the sound chewing into her molars – and the stewardess came back to check the straps and buckles again.

“Dear, if you release these, we’ll be sponging you off the bulkheads. Just sit, you’ll be fine. Here.” She gives her a few pieces of gum. “Chew those once you feel the plane move, but turn your head or you’ll choke.”

Unknown to the passenger, the pilot watched the tower and planes of Cadillac-Gage with something akin to contempt.
“Do we have anything left in first series?” Captain Zafrany watched a plane take off.
Miles checked. “Not much, maybe eight hundred kilograms. The second series tanks and aux are still full, we’ll get there.”
“That’s not what I was thinking about.” He clicked on the intercom. “Pilot to crew, prepare for white launch, repeat, prepare for white launch.”
Miles’ eyebrow went up in a true Spock. “Are you kidding? Here?”
“My plane,” gum popped in his mouth, “my rules.”
“Alright, Cap. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
The lights came on green – one… two….

Three.

Slowly, the immense suborbital began it’s motion down the runway to it’s assigned take off point….

“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
They both swallowed their gum. “Change over at… fifteen?”
“Concur.”
The onboard computer clicked and gave a soft “Affirmative”.
“Hang on, Miles. This is gonna be fun.”

Slowly, out the windows, Sharon could see as buildings began to slide away, the orbiter taking a moment to gather itself…

“Just like all the other times I’ve been on an…”

Eight hundred gallons of pSOX ignited at once: the orbiter jumped forward as if kicked, quickly passing mach 1 on the ground – then lept to a sixty-degree take off, smashing pilot, copilot, and passenger into their cushioned seats, the elephants on their chests doing tap-dances as mach 2 – then 3 – was passed.

“Damn fun, isn’t it?”
“F*ck you, I want kids…”

Sharon could barely see the inboard altimeter flash by in digital orgasm…10,000 m…. 20,000 m… 30,000 m… 40,000…

“Switching to secondary series” a gay voice announced in the cockpit. The plane didn’t seem to notice, keeping a constant acceleration…

It was more of a leveling off then a true turn; the altimeter paused at 180,000 m.
“Cruising level reached.” A cheery voice informed Sharon. “Current speed, Mach 20.06. Orbital flight time, one hour twenty-nine minutes. Have a nice day.”

It took the stewardess a moment to work her way backwards; even at the normalized speed, the distance from NSEarth gave walking an interesting gait.
“Feel like throwing up, dear?”

She gave a grandmotherly smile. “The captain is going to roll the plane so you can see all of NSEarth from up here – our flight cameras will take some great shots, if you’d like a few to take back with you?” She pulls the slide table out, touches it – the screen comes to life. “Touch screen. Here’s you coming on to the plane – here’s our view of takeoff… sorry, dear, did you want to throw up now? We can download and give you a set if you’d like.”

The orbiter spent nearly two hours in orbit, performing slow maneuvers to entertain and display the view from space – “Best get it in now, dear. Vastiva is going to be dark for another three months at least. That’s it, over there – well, you can’t see it, it’s under that hurricaine…”

The plane turned. “Crew, prepare for re-entry. Lock and cross check.”

The stewardess checked Sharon’s straps. “You have just enough time to run to the bathroom if you need to, dear. If you feel any urges, I’d suggest it…”

The orbiter dipped into the atmosphere, first skimming, then plunging in, it’s speed boiling off in return for a change in altitude.

Again, elephants tap-danced across Sharon’s chest as the huge plane performed a wide corkscrewing flight to reduce friction, at the cost of time….

After what seemed like forever, the orbiter leveled off, descending far slower.

“Captain to crew, ETA sixty two minutes, low deck. Cross check, prepare for landing…”

“Dear, do you have to throw up now?”

The plane made a relatively calm landing in Mosselbaai; from there, Sharon and her backpack were offloaded to a Polar Bear (with a cheery “Good luck dear! Don’t forget to throw up if you have to!” from the stewardess) and driven to the port facility accompanied only by unspeaking guards in green robes.

Cadillac-Gage

25-04-2005, 04:04

Sharon was dutifully strapped in place by a red-uniformed stewardess. “Have you had anything to eat or drink lately, dear? No? Good. Here’s a bag just in case.”
“I’ve been on a plane before!”
The stewardess gave a kind smile. “Not like this one, dear. Hold tight.”

As the door sealed with a long hiss and the engines began to hum again – the sound chewing into her molars – and the stewardess came back to check the straps and buckles again.

“Dear, if you release these, we’ll be sponging you off the bulkheads. Just sit, you’ll be fine. Here.” She gives her a few pieces of gum. “Chew those once you feel the plane move, but turn your head or you’ll choke.”

Unknown to the passenger, the pilot watched the tower and planes of Cadillac-Gage with something akin to contempt.
“Do we have anything left in first series?” Captain Zafrany watched a plane take off.
Miles checked. “Not much, maybe eight hundred kilograms. The second series tanks and aux are still full, we’ll get there.”
“That’s not what I was thinking about.” He clicked on the intercom. “Pilot to crew, prepare for white launch, repeat, prepare for white launch.”
Miles’ eyebrow went up in a true Spock. “Are you kidding? Here?”
“My plane,” gum popped in his mouth, “my rules.”
“Alright, Cap. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
The lights came on green – one… two….

Three.

Slowly, the immense suborbital began it’s motion down the runway to it’s assigned take off point….

“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
They both swallowed their gum. “Change over at… fifteen?”
“Concur.”
The onboard computer clicked and gave a soft “Affirmative”.
“Hang on, Miles. This is gonna be fun.”

Slowly, out the windows, Sharon could see as buildings began to slide away, the orbiter taking a moment to gather itself…

“Just like all the other times I’ve been on an…”

Eight hundred gallons of pSOX ignited at once: the orbiter jumped forward as if kicked, quickly passing mach 1 on the ground – then lept to a sixty-degree take off, smashing pilot, copilot, and passenger into their cushioned seats, the elephants on their chests doing tap-dances as mach 2 – then 3 – was passed.

“Damn fun, isn’t it?”
“F*ck you, I want kids…”

Sharon could barely see the inboard altimeter flash by in digital orgasm…10,000 m…. 20,000 m… 30,000 m… 40,000…

“Switching to secondary series” a gay voice announced in the cockpit. The plane didn’t seem to notice, keeping a constant acceleration…

It was more of a leveling off then a true turn; the altimeter paused at 180,000 m.
“Cruising level reached.” A cheery voice informed Sharon. “Current speed, Mach 20.06. Orbital flight time, one hour twenty-nine minutes. Have a nice day.”

It took the stewardess a moment to work her way backwards; even at the normalized speed, the distance from NSEarth gave walking an interesting gait.
“Feel like throwing up, dear?”

Sharon waved off, "No..."

She gave a grandmotherly smile. “The captain is going to roll the plane so you can see all of NSEarth from up here – our flight cameras will take some great shots, if you’d like a few to take back with you?” She pulls the slide table out, touches it – the screen comes to life. “Touch screen. Here’s you coming on to the plane – here’s our view of takeoff… sorry, dear, did you want to throw up now? We can download and give you a set if you’d like.”

"Thanks, no, I don't need to throw up...got any peanuts?"

The orbiter spent nearly two hours in orbit, performing slow maneuvers to entertain and display the view from space – “Best get it in now, dear. Vastiva is going to be dark for another three months at least. That’s it, over there – well, you can’t see it, it’s under that hurricaine…”

"Cool...wow..." She took in the funnel of the hurricane as seen from space. "Right on!!"

The plane turned. “Crew, prepare for re-entry. Lock and cross check.”

The stewardess checked Sharon’s straps. “You have just enough time to run to the bathroom if you need to, dear. If you feel any urges, I’d suggest it…”

"thanks, I need to pee..." she dashed to the head, did her business, then hurried back to her seat to watch the screen some more-it's not every day you get this close to outer space, and Sharon wasn't missing it.

The orbiter dipped into the atmosphere, first skimming, then plunging in, it’s speed boiling off in return for a change in altitude.

Again, elephants tap-danced across Sharon’s chest as the huge plane performed a wide corkscrewing flight to reduce friction, at the cost of time….

After what seemed like forever, the orbiter leveled off, descending far slower.

“Captain to crew, ETA sixty two minutes, low deck. Cross check, prepare for landing…”

“Dear, do you have to throw up now?”

What is it with you and puking?? "No, no thanks." Sharon said, adding, "I'm a bit hungry, actually..." and smirked.

The plane made a relatively calm landing in Mosselbaai; from there, Sharon and her backpack were offloaded to a Polar Bear (with a cheery “Good luck dear! Don’t forget to throw up if you have to!” from the stewardess) and driven to the port facility accompanied only by unspeaking guards in green robes.

"Right ON!!! That ride was fiskin' AWESOME!!!" she crowed. The guards didn't seem to notice their charge's manic exuberance. "You guys must do that kinda thing all the time, right??"

Then, out of sight of the red-uniformed stewardess, in the close confines of the Polar-Bear transport, she projectile-puked on one of the guards.

"Sorry, I get car-sick." she said, adding, "damn, Caff food doesn't look any better coming up, than it did goin' down..."

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 04:06

“Touchdown in about five minutes, Ayid.” Fajr smiled at her. “Normally we tell the passengers to stay seated – but once we start taxiing, if you’ve got sea legs, you can handle it.”

The huge 74SL pulled casually towards the terminal, awaiting its next call to duty. Below, various workers in day-glo colors worked efficiently at their many and varied jobs around the airport.

Goldie continued snoring – a skill of most diplomats.

“Perhaps something else, Ayid? It will be a short trip from the airport to the naval base.”

Cadillac-Gage

25-04-2005, 05:23

To: Mr. Nasiri Yassassin, Vastiva
From: Dr. Suse Randall, Cadillac Gage.

RE: Sharon's on her way.

Because Miss Henrik is below the age of majority, I had to obtain permissions from her legal-guardian. Enclosed is a signed permission-statement Authorizing her to travel outside our National Borders. In Lieu of a proper Passport, (because she is below the age at which we can issue one-that being 20), I am legally obligated to provide this documentation to you, and maintain a copy of it in our files here at the office.

I must caution you-her father asked me if there were any chance that Sharon might not be returning. His manner was... a bit puzzling at first, but it seems she has been something of a disappointment in spite of her outstanding Academic potential, and I'm not entirely sure her family wants her back...
Especially after reading the attatched notations on the permission slip.

I'm sending you this because, while her family clearly has no interest in her safe return, I Do, and am ready to take whatever legal measures may become necessary to insure the safety of every single citizen of Cadillac-Gage that leaves our borders, especially when I sent them out there with no backup, formal training, or understanding of what they are being brought into.

Please return her undamaged and in as timely a manner as possible.

[ooc-the message comes with files attatched-the formal permission-letter, and what amounts to a 'red-chief' note from Olivander Henrik III commenting that if Sharon didn't bother coming back, it would be just fine.]

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 07:43

(OOC: Most everyone is affected by this one so.... )

Even as Kera reached the door, the Harem ghosts were performing basic triage – treating burns with a thick oozy green gel, binding minor wounds, performing first aid on major ones – of which, thankfully, there were few.

A flying wedge of guards – robed purple, of all things – hit the ground running, closing the distance between the purple and pink doorways in record time.

A quick check of numbers showed they had all the advantage they needed, even without the firearms. Two center their FNP90s on Sadira. “If you would drop the weapon, please?”

This same scene is repeated over and over in the Harem; fortunately, no shots are fired. Several doctors do arrive, and several people are carried out, two under sheets. And a few "troublemakers" are removed completely "What, no, Ayid, they are just being moved to private apartments, the better that this will not happen again for the moment."

Most, however, remain in the Harem proper, bandaged, slathered, bruised, but alive – and under the watchful eye of two dozen armed purple robes.

“If it would not be too much trouble, if you could restrain your motion until this incident is made sense of, appreciative much we would be” smiles out the one with gold chevrons on her robes.

They also – very politely, mind you – disarmed everyone as best they can. “If you would be so kind, yes, please put these things in your luggage? It is all being moved, yes, we promise . Thank you, much appreciated.” And another smile. "Yes, you may keep that, we understand it is personal. No, that we ask that you pack - yes, the significance, but it is still a blade. I most surely do assure you, it will be well looked after, and returned to you at a later time."

Subtly, but effectively and politely, these purple robes move everyone from their clothing to bathrobes and underwear – “Very sorry, but we must insist, if you would not mind, please? Thank you ever so much.”

Lunch is served - and utensils are counted afterwards.

Some time around three pm, someone finally worked up the nerve to knock at the door of Sinjin’s bedroom suite. He cracked an eye and looked at the door before upending Medea out of bed with a somewhat-gentle-but-determined push of leg against body.

“See who it is. If it’s not important, come back to bed.”

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 07:49

Krioval

25-04-2005, 07:55

Some time around three pm, someone finally worked up the nerve to knock at the door of Sinjin’s bedroom suite. He cracked an eye and looked at the door before upending Medea out of bed with a somewhat-gentle-but-determined push of leg against body.

“See who it is. If it’s not important, come back to bed.”

Medea sighed with a certain mixture of resignation and annoyance before making her way to the door, covering up at least somewhat with...whatever cloth it was she picked up. Opening the door ever so slightly to prevent the other person from entering, she asked "On a scale of one to ten, how important is this?" She placed her body against the door on the off chance the knocker would actually have the gall to enter without express permission; the "Kriovalian door slam" was an art form among women in Krioval, and the best could force an open door to shut even if the would-be entrant were armed.

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 07:57

There is a slight pause as the eight-year old girl in silver and white considers.

"That is difficult to say, Ayid. There was a fight in the Harem, and there have been two deaths and many injuries. However, the Guard has the situation under control at the moment. Assuredly, those there are not all that happy about the situation, but it can be kept as so nearly indefinitely."

Krioval

25-04-2005, 08:13

Medea considers the child's words before giving her an indulgent smile. "It's probably for the best that we were made aware." Her military background was resurrecting itself in the dark of Sinjin's private suite, and even though she had lost count of the number of times she'd...well..."done it", hearing of deaths in the Harem brought her to full alertness instantly. Turning toward the Sultan, she said, "Out of a scale of ten, I'd give it a twelve. Potential international incident. Fight in the Harem with fatalities." Returning to the attendant, Medea asked, "Do you know which two?"

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 08:17

"No, Ayid."

Sinjin, however, remains in bed, fishing around first under his pillow then behind the headboard. He comes up with a small silver baton which he tosses to Medea.

"Deal with it and come back to bed."

Roman Greece

25-04-2005, 08:18

Krioval

25-04-2005, 08:29

"Deal...with...it?" Medea asks, forgetting to whom she is asking that question. Remembering, she continues, "forgive me for the question, but I am unsure what it is you wish me to do."

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 08:32

"Deal...with...it?" Medea asks, forgetting to whom she is asking that question. Remembering, she continues, "forgive me for the question, but I am unsure what it is you wish me to do."

He sits up, bleery-eyed. "Which word does not translate properly?"

Krioval

25-04-2005, 08:37

He sits up, bleery-eyed. "Which word does not translate properly?"

The Kriovalian woman's hands ball up involuntarily. Men. I mean, I screw him for hours and this is what I get for the trouble, good as he was. Maybe that's why all my crushes turn out gay! She steps out into the corridor. "Perhaps you could take me to get some suitable clothing," Medea says to the attendant. "Apparently, I am to deal with the situation." She let out an even bigger sigh. I'll either do an amazing job on this or I'll botch it so bad he'll kick me out.

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 08:48

The Kriovalian woman's hands ball up involuntarily. Men. I mean, I screw him for hours and this is what I get for the trouble, good as he was. Maybe that's why all my crushes turn out gay! She steps out into the corridor. "Perhaps you could take me to get some suitable clothing," Medea says to the attendant. "Apparently, I am to deal with the situation." She let out an even bigger sigh. I'll either do an amazing job on this or I'll botch it so bad he'll kick me out.

"Yes, Ay... er... Dalai." A quick scraping bow, and she is leading - quickly - towards a wardrobe where Medea is slipped into a rather feminine version of what Sinjin was wearing in the throne room, save it has a thick gold-and-silver sash from shoulder to hip with a loop - designed to hold the baton.

After she is gone, Sinjin counts twelve heartbeats, then is up, far faster then his earlier demeanor would give appearance. His M-TCOD clicks on. "Shama? I am sending you a rou-Dalai auahnua. Forward the reports you have so far, and have her kept watch on - quietly."
"Yes, my Sultan." comes back clearly.

After a moment of fretting on the bed itself, Sinjin points his M-TCOD - and the wall opens, revealing dozens of camera angles. He begins adjusting - and fixes one set on Medea, her murmurs coming through the small device clearly - even those whispered.

-Ferris-

25-04-2005, 08:53

10: The Wine-Dark Sea.

""Sea legs"?" Alexis smiled. "I suppose I'd best stay sitting, then - Ferris has no seas. And if it's only a short trip, I should be fine."

They left the plane - the stewardess discreetly waking Vizier Ohana - and entered the terminal. Despite the hour it was crowded with people - the storm over Vastiva had caused several other international flights to be diverted to Mosselbaai, and passengers crowded every floor.*

The Vastivans cleared a path through them with admirable efficiency - clearly the Sultan's name was almost as effective as the Autarch's in Ferris. Within a short amount of time, they were out of the terminal, heading towards the naval base in a Vastivan Polar Bear.

The streets of Mosselbaai were also much more crowded than those of the Ironspire back home; for most Ferrisians, owning an automobile was an impossible dream, and the cars of the noble Houses were alone on the roads.

At the naval base the Polar Bear stopped, the Vastivans speaking quietly to the guards, who waved them through into the base itself. Here, close to the sea, there was a salty tang to the air which set alarm bells ringing in Alexis' head - it smelled very much like the air in the playas, just before the onset of a saltstorm.

Then the Polar Bear turned a corner, and a vast expanse stretched away before her eyes, dark and rich and alien. It took her long moments to realise that this must be the sea, and the smell in the air was brine off the ocean, not an impending saltstorm at all.

"Wow," she said, truly amazed for the first time since leaving Ferris; she'd left the Iron Domains before, of course, but somehow she'd never seen the sea. There didn't seem much else to say.

OOC: *My extrapolation based upon the weather and whatnot - if this is ungood, I can edit it.

Krioval

25-04-2005, 08:54

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 08:58

Medea looks at the girl. "Tell me what happened, and take me to the Harem so I might talk to those involved in responding to the scene." She paused, not wanting to overly intimidate the girl. "What shall I call you, young one?" Remember your training, the woman's mind commanded, its 'voice' iron in tone. You know what to do, so do it.

"Yes, Dalai, at once!" The girl almost cowers at the question anyway. "Dalai, this one has been called Hena for these last three years, if it please you, but if it be thy wish to bring another name, this one will gladly wear it."

She gives a straightforward description of what the guards found, but has no information about what started things - or who started things.

OOC: Hena "The Polite One".

Krioval

25-04-2005, 09:01

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 09:10

"Hena? That's a very nice name. Could you please take me to a guard, then? Perhaps one might know what happened." Patience, she thought. First responders have already dealt with the major stuff. It's mostly politics now.

"Yes, Dalai - they are mostly at the Harem, save the Captain, who is..." she thinks, nearly in a panic. "Dalai, this one is unsure where Kadin Captain Shama is, may this one discover her whereabouts on your authority?"

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 09:14

To:The Sultan Of Vastiva's Grand Vizier
From:The Emperor Of Roman Greece's Head Priest

Greetings,
This is our application for Helena Johansson's entry into Vastiva's Harem.She has accepted going to this Harem.The Harem is to us,a place which those of different cultures can meet each other.If the Sultan of Vastiva loves Helena,we don't mind it at all.We want to confirm she will be guarded and not hurt at all.If you want a embassy or a alliance,just ask.All we need is to confirm that she can land in your country.We also want to know if any requirements are needed for Helena.What is the Harem for? We just want to tell those who do not know.Vastiva is a good friend to us and we honor your nation and its people.We want Helena to be accepted into your Harem.We don't know you,the Grand Vizier's Name.We hope that's not a bother.In the name of God,Most Gracious,Most Merciful as you say in your faith,we hope that God Willing,everything goes well.

Ab-shalom and greetings to the nation of Roman Greece;

We are most pleased to accept Helena Johansson’s application for candidacy for the harem of Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din.

We would inform you, a harem is traditionally a place where the concubines and like of a ruler are made comfortable, to wait upon his pleasure as he sees fit. Traditionally, in Vastiva, these are advisory roles, though other roles are certainly possible.

As to love – without a long relationship, we have found agape, or “spiritual love” to be something which cannot be assumed. If you are discussing eros, or physical love, then it would be a most plausible event that such things will occur.

Of Helena, we would wish her scholastic records, her immunization and travel records, medical records, and such things to be forwarded to my office for processing.

Finally, it is the desire of the Sultanate of Vastiva to open and maintain strong diplomatic and economic relations with all nations desirous of such. We do therefore offer an exchange of embassies and ambassadors, and a beginning of free trade between our nations.

If this meets with your approval, please communicate by any means.

Go in Peace,

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Krioval

25-04-2005, 09:14

"Yes, Dalai - they are mostly at the Harem, save the Captain, who is..." she thinks, nearly in a panic. "Dalai, this one is unsure where Kadin Captain Shama is, may this one discover her whereabouts on your authority?"

"In that case, I would like to go to the Harem directly. It is possible that the guards there know where the Captain is. If not, then we will look together for the Captain."

Vastiva

25-04-2005, 09:20

"In that case, I would like to go to the Harem directly. It is possible that the guards there know where the Captain is. If not, then we will look together for the Captain."

"Yes, Dalai, at once!" She sets off at a quick pace - not fast enough to outdistance Medea, but quick enough to assure she reaches each turn first.

They are at the harem in a few minutes - each person they pass gives a very deep bow; a few prostrate; and much whispering occurs (mostly of the "Oh my - HER?" variety)

Before the door are four green-robed guards, still as posts at each "corner" - two before the door, two on the opposite wall. They come to attention as Medea approaches; Hena ignores them and goes into the Harem itself.

Cadillac-Gage

25-04-2005, 09:22

To: Nasiri Yassassin, Director, Office of State Security, Sultanate of Vastiva
From: Dr. Suse Randall, Director External Contacts and Affairs, Cadillac-Gage

RE: Your invitation.

I wish it were that simple-unfortunately, I'm juggling negotiations with three foreign powers, and I'm trying to keep Gregir from getting us even more mired in what appears to be an alliance-going-nowhere...and it's Budget Time, which means I'm also being subpoena'd to sit in front of the Assembly and explain to them what 'covert', 'Classified', 'economically Viable', and 'Foreign Trade' mean, along with all the usual arguments about what constitutes 'legitimate expenditures' for our foreign offices- Chairman Nagel wants to start charging line-access fees to our Scrambled communications!

I'm going to have to just rely on you to keep me informed as to anything remarkably unwise Sharon might pull-and I'm just going to have to hope that she doesn't violate any of your laws...but if she does, I trust someone over there will make certain that I am aware of it before she winds up in some dark, deep, prison?

Anyway, my many thanks to you for having the decency to offer, you are a very considerate Gentleman, and your Courtesy is a nice change from the sorts I normally have to deal with in this job.

Oh...and thank you for the compliment! I haven't been a 'Miss' in twenty years! My late husband, Thor, would be quite pleased...

Cordially,
Suse Randall, PhD.

Suse smiled sadly, and hit 'send', then fingered the other half of the charm she'd given Sharon Henrik. With any luck, the girl wouldn't need even the meagre protection it offered-but Suse Randall didn't believe in Luck anymore than she believed in the kindness of strangers- she did, however, believe in a few other things. Things like keeping tabs on a new-hire going out on her first mission for the Association.

Krioval

25-04-2005, 09:33

"Yes, Dalai, at once!" She sets off at a quick pace - not fast enough to outdistance Medea, but quick enough to assure she reaches each turn first.

They are at the harem in a few minutes - each person they pass gives a very deep bow; a few prostrate; and much whispering occurs (mostly of the "Oh my - HER?" variety)

Before the door are four green-robed guards, still as posts at each "corner" - two before the door, two on the opposite wall. They come to attention as Medea approaches; Hena ignores them and goes into the Harem itself.

Medea follows Hena into the Harem proper. "Who would be most likely to know of the Captain's whereabouts?" she asked briskly. She mentally calculated how much time had gone by since the incident. A few hours already. If this were Krioval, it could probably be suppressed for as many as six hours before the first leaks. Twelve if one was lucky.

Cadillac-Gage

25-04-2005, 09:58

Sharon gripped her backpack as the green-robed soldiers led-and-flanked her oout of the Polar Bear and onto a quay. She Gawked like a tourist at an amusement park, and several times, one or the other would have to gently block her from swarming up to some large (often dangerous and running) piece of equipment. The whole time, she kept up an almost aggravating stream consisting of babble and questions, often interspersed with invective that would be confusing to most Linguists, Theologians, or Social Historians.

Compared to the 'other' girl from Cadillac-Gage, Sharon was a stormy night to placid day.

Quite simply, the girl was obnoxious in an almost-cute sort of way, like the puppy one simply knows will pee on the expensive rugs, chew on only the antique furniture, and knock over the table with the good china.

Findhorn

25-04-2005, 09:59

Slumped comfortably on a cushion beside Ka'tal's bed, Myfanwy reflected wryly that there was nothing like a crisis for furthering a friendship. She was now "Miffy" and Neira alternated between her real name and "Little One" -- a nickname which Myfanwy had no intention of giving up because, as she pointed out, it was very seldom she had a chance to use it to anyone over nine.

"I could always call you 'Rugrat'," she had offered, a suggestion that had almost got a cushion thrown at her until Ka'tal had suggested that, in the light of recent events, horseplay might be misunderstood.

How Ka'tal had known what Neira had in mind was another matter, given that her sore eyes were covered by a soothing cloth. "Acute hearing" was added to Myfanwy's mental list of her new friends' surprising abilities.

"Total recall" was apparently another. Ka'tal's account of what had gone on in the room with the pink doorway was so detailed her hearers felt they had been there, too. Neira evidently shared Ka'tal's warmth towards the others who had fought beside her, but Myfanwy held back a little. Brawls were common enough on Findhorn, but the sort of training for mayhem so many of these others seemed to have was unknown in anything but theory.

They weren't fighters because they lacked intelligence, though. Myfanwy was drawn again to Neira's shrewd observation just before the uproar: that there were far more people in the room than might have been expected. It had joined up with something else that had been niggling at the back of her mind ... she shifted slightly and her robe, caught underneath her, pulled a little around the neck. Lucky I'm allowed to have it. Guess they had to admit it was the nearest I had to a dressing-gown, what with my luggage still missing ... HEY!

The efficient Vastivans, the super-efficient Vastivans, had lost her luggage. The Vastivans, the super-hospitable Vastivans, had taken a bunch of guests they knew were coming and shoved them all in here in such a higgledy-piggledy fashion that she'd ended up in the wrong bed. It didn't sound right. It sounds, I dunno, hurried ...? Not ... planned?

She would have followed the thought further, but word was being tossed from bed to bed. Two dead ... yes, two, it's definite ...

Shame on me, thought Myfanwy. Two women dead, and have I said a word for them? They went so suddenly, they will feel so lost when they meet the Washer at the Ford. Silently she began to recite the tale that would explain to each dead woman why she found herself kneeling, cold and naked, beside an old woman washing torn, blood-stained robes in a stream.

"The rents are the pain you caused, the blood is the hearts you broke!" She sang the words to herself, but they would hear. She pictured them leaning over, feeling the pain, old wounds breaking open and bleeding into the stream, and their own blood mending the garments. She reached for the joy they would feel at their robes made whole -- and it wasn't there.

You're not calm enough, she reassured herself. This place is strange, that's all. Later tonight she would sing again, alone. Perhaps aloud, softly, near water. Yes, later tonight, she would seek out one of the blue doorways.

Cadillac-Gage

25-04-2005, 10:06

Nova Hope

25-04-2005, 12:45

When the robed guards entered the room Shizuka was almost immediate in her drop of warrior pretense. Her visage softened and then sank into what looked like abject horror. Almost instantaneously she dropped to the ground; her forehead, knees, balls of feet, and palms were the only the only contact with tile she had. The fact that she had dropped to the floor elicited a tiny grunt as the foam now contacted much more exposed skin. Eyes watering and body bright red with irritation she began to offer apology to the first guard who spoke to her. When asked for the sword her reply was quick.
“Of course, if I am now considered a guest in the Sultan’s home.” Sensing a certain amount of special emphasis placed on the statement the guard asked for an elaboration.
“My apologies, I would not wish to further embarrass myself. As a point of honour the sultan may at anytime ask for my weapons, we are of course in his home. Were we in any place but his home I would not be as apologetic, or giving, as I am. That said asking for my weapons means one of two things. I am either now a guest and my safety is assured on his honour, or you mean to execute me for my grievous breech of propriety. If it is the latter I ask that you give me opportunity to rectify my breech in a satisfactory manner.”

Roman Greece

25-04-2005, 18:26

Ab-shalom and greetings to the nation of Roman Greece;

We are most pleased to accept Helena Johansson’s application for candidacy for the harem of Sultan Sinjin Lefkowitz al-Din.

We would inform you, a harem is traditionally a place where the concubines and like of a ruler are made comfortable, to wait upon his pleasure as he sees fit. Traditionally, in Vastiva, these are advisory roles, though other roles are certainly possible.

As to love – without a long relationship, we have found agape, or “spiritual love” to be something which cannot be assumed. If you are discussing eros, or physical love, then it would be a most plausible event that such things will occur.

Of Helena, we would wish her scholastic records, her immunization and travel records, medical records, and such things to be forwarded to my office for processing.

Finally, it is the desire of the Sultanate of Vastiva to open and maintain strong diplomatic and economic relations with all nations desirous of such. We do therefore offer an exchange of embassies and ambassadors, and a beginning of free trade between our nations.

If this meets with your approval, please communicate by any means.

Go in Peace,

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

To-Raahmid Javani,Grand Vizier Of The Sultan
From-General Andrew Marjinsky Of The Royal Guard Of Roman Greece

You have requested Helen's medical records and such.She has been immunized for every sickness we know of.This is the first time that she has left Roman Greece.Scholastic Records you ask.She is very intelligent and knows a lot of things but is very interested in knowing more things.We would like to know ourselves that when she can come to Vastiva,what city does she go to?If you need further description of any of the records you discussed then just ask us and we will send it to you.We'll also like to open embassies and have a alliance.If you or even your Sultan has any questions or concerns,just ask and we'll try our best to answer them.

Sincerly,
Gen.Marjinsky

Cadillac-Gage

25-04-2005, 19:49

Engred let her eyes wander over the others at lunch, while she sat with her back unsupported and ate a small meal.

The Staffer feeding her seemed somewhat put-out by her earlier questions, and Engred wished she had her hands working again.

The gal she pulled out of the pool seemed to be doing rather well. Well, nobody's seen Medea in hours... she got up, turned her plate in, and went for a wander around the Harem (for the tenth time) to see how Zukie and Kera Light were doing, and maybe find Medea. After the fight in the 'blue room', Engred felt that maybe having someone close-by whose muscles rippled and whose movements carried what Hrowll-Chmee would call 'Hunter's grace' might be a touch safer than trusting in mere guards. I wish Sharon were here-she wouldn't be worried... then again, I'm not sure cleaning up her messes would be any safer or easier...

Cadillac-Gage

25-04-2005, 20:01

Sharon finally started settling down when a Dockworker shouted something incomprehensible and stern at her when she got too close to the edge of a work-area. "It's cool... I get it..." she said, holding her hands up in a gesture of submission when one of her guards apparently had enough and actually favoured her a hot glare.
"This way?" she pointed. The Guard nodded.

she half-skipped between them, singing (off key) "...Devil's Playing, In my hand, if you don't wanna play, you don't under-sta-and!!"

Naturally, she got some of the words wrong, but Sharon was bored, and the Guards weren't interested in playing.

Somewhere deep inside, she knew she was being a prize-winning village idiot. this did not stop her from having fun with it.

Krowemoh

25-04-2005, 21:17

To say Zukie was pissed off was an understatement.

The Neko fumed with fury and anger. A Harem Ninja was appliying oils to her body which soothed the burning she felt. Yet, it did nothing for the burning in her mind. "I've never been so insulted in all my life! Grenades, swords, FLEAS?! What kind of lack luster security does this palace have? I've seen tolit stalls with better security then what I've seen so far here! Even the shadiest, lowlist night club in the seedist red distrinct on Planet Lago, which is the most underdeveloped planet in all of the Empire, has bouncers that search everyone entering for weapons. Hmphm."

She growled, "Once my father learns of what's happened to me, this place will be swarming with Weapons Grade Realians and Corporate Investigators so fast the Sultan's head will spin. And you can bet lawsuits will be the least of what I plan to file against HIM." She growled a second time, still fuming with rightous rage. "Let's see how long this country lasts with all the blockcades and trade embargoes MY father will put into place. Not even the best smuggler in the universe could sneak in a piece of rotted cheese with all the ships he'll devote to making sure this country starves to death!"

Kera, having already served her intended purpose, sat near Zukie and the Harem Ninja, watching the two and quietly nodding to everything Zukie said. ... Wow. She's really angry. I'd be too, I guess. Still. I think she's taking it a bit too far with all that. Kera smiled up at Engred as she came near them and sat. I like Engred. She's nice to me. I wish Zukie was as nice as her sometimes.

Zukie either didn't take notice of Engred, or did, and was too angry to give her the proper acknowledgement. Who could blame her? Out of the entire would-be Harem applicants, she had got it the worst. "If I leave this country RIGHT now, it wouldn't be soon enough. Grrr..."

The Voltarum

26-04-2005, 01:22

Ka'tal advanced toward the last attacker, just as palace guards entered the room... at least they didn't enter shooting.

Now hours later, she lay on the bed, next to Neira and their new friend Miffy. Ka'tal had filled them in on what she had saw - and done - and Neira had reciprocated with the telling of her epiphony on the number of girls in the room. Neira did not see surprise in Ka'tal's eyes, as Ka'tal had already guessed this based on the fighting styles she had seen in the bath. Those girls were not candidates, and that led to only one logical conclusion.

Neira sat, worried. "I don't like this Ka't. Why would they put Vastivian trained militia in here? Are they here for some kind of test? I thought I knew all their customs, but this is getting rather annoying."

"The better question, Neira, is does the Sultan know they are here? I have been thinking much, and wondering much, about why we haven't seen our gracious Sultan yet. And my thoughts go back to the news coverage we saw of him on the plane ride here. Something tells me there is much more at work here than just electing a new harem."

Neira gave her a confused look, but couldn't help shivering in her rather thin robe. Ka'tal smiled, for perhaps the first time in days. "Do not worry, my Lady. I am sure it is nothing." She sighed and turned to see a very well dressed - and familiar - woman come in and ask for the captain of the guard...

**
OOC: For everyone but Vastiva, you might want to read this (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=7567989&postcount=72) for some background. And yes thats the same Guy Smiley...(as if there could be two...)

Channel 13, 9 pm Voltaru Time

*Click*Click*Stare*

...Channel 13 is proud to present Natural Selection 2: The Sun Falls. Welcome back to another exciting season of the hit reality show that has swept across antarctica. I'm your host, Dick Newfield. Tonight, we watch as 13 new contestants are left in the middle of the Vastivian wildness with limited supplied and weapons, this time in the midst of a sunless month. Their task, as before, is to....

Commercial Break

... so buy Voltaru Bear Repellant! It just might save your life!!....
... *switch to newsroom brief* Good evening, I'm Cavat Kalile. Make sure you stay tuned after Natural Selection for the 11 o'clock news - we will have an exciting and revealing expose on what is really happening in the Harem in Vastiva - cheating, violence, details on the tests candidates go through - and just how our fair Lady Neira's chances are doing. That, and the latest on the missile attack off the North Sector Naval Base coming up....
...*switch to very excited blond* Excited about Lady Vektori's trek to the distant land of Vastiva? Anxious to root her on in some way? Then the "Lady Neira for Harem" swag is what you need - we have bumper stickers, we have buttons, we have computer backgrounds! Visit our site at www.ladyn...*

Channel 13, 11:13 pm Voltaru Time

... and the pig, and the pizza delivery man, are both in stable condition in the hospital tonight. Now on to an alarming report regarding our Antarctican neighbor Vastiva. As every Voltaru knows, the Sultan is currently restocking his harem, with the former head of the second house of the Voltaru, Lady Neira Vektori, as a prime candidate. But as our own Guy Smiley reports, there is more to this story than meets the eye...

*cut to a picture of trading cards, Guy smiley speaking over.*
....By now we have all seen pictures of the cards, but what is really going on in the Vastivian Harem? The Vastivians are wild with ideas, as their public intranet is bulging with speculation and rumour, but this reporter has gleaned a few interesting tidbits from this sea of ineptitude...
* cut to an outside picture of the Sultan's Palace, obviously from very far away*
... Cheating is probably the most alarming issue. It is said that there are far more Vastivian candidates than the tradition allows - as the accepted limit of 10 has been exceeded due to candidates from Vastivian colonies. Bribery and nepotism also run rampant, as at least 5 of the candidates are reported to be relatives of high ranking Vastivian officials....
* cut to pictures of Vastivian military outposts/vehicles.*
... Many point to the fact that some members of the Harem, especially the highest ranking sect, called the Dalai, have been known to wield the absolute power of the Sultan himself. Though this hasn't always been the case, many Vastivians feel that this could happen again. Some natives have told me that having foreigners in this position is just as worrysome....
*cut to a map, outlining countries that have candidates for the harem, then random file footage of hands taking tests, feet running*
...But they also have complete confidence in the rigorous tests the candidates must pass through to be considered for the harem. What these tests are comprised us is not publically known, although there are reports that some of the candidates have already failed 2 of the 5 tests and have been dismissed....
*cut to Guy Smiley, all white teeth, in the lobby of some kind of hotel*
...What ever the case, most Vastivians agree that they will have a chance to publicly view the candidates before the Sultan makes his decisions. We will be sure to have that for you when ever it happens, that is if this Hurricane ever goes away. Reports say that not all the candidates have even arrived yet, as at least 2 are stil on their way to the palace...
*cut to Voltaru palace, home of the Vektori House*
...Of course, what is on every Voltaru's mind is how our young Lady Neira will fair against such happenings. As Lady Neira is not a legal adult in Vastiva, when she is accepted in the harem, she wil be considered Odalai, or a favored child. Only when she reaches adulthood can she move up to positions such as Kadai or Dalai. As we have yet to see Lady Neira leave the palace, we can assume, as we all know, she has been successful in all her undertakings. In the Capital of Vastiva, this is Guy Smiley, reporting...

Vastiva

26-04-2005, 03:35

Nova Hope

26-04-2005, 05:08

Shizuka waited for the guards reply, counting the beats of her racing heart. The entire time she fought her heart was calm and controlled, steady as the tide and just as irresistible.
“I would not think to attack one in the home of another, yet honour demanded that I protect the innocent. Should the Sultan feel that the sanctity of his home was the more important of the two, as he is within his right to do, I will have discarded my honour in one quick melee.
“Should he feel that his honour cannot be assuaged by my public apology I will have no choice but to offer myself to jigai. Surely the Sultan will see that the innocent would very well have drowned without my intervention, and I did not kill anyone. In fact I concentrated on non-lethal maneuvers. A shove, a knee capper, and a few demands for mercy. My case is sound; honour can be reclaimed without my death. But alas as the lord of this domicile the Sultan, and his agents, get to make that decision not I. I must await their ruling.
“Should I be offered the chance for amends I must prepare my public apology, but what words can express my shame? I will offer the apology in haiku and hope that the Sultan understands the sincerity of my contrition.”

Vastiva

26-04-2005, 05:20

The VSS Nasimah was a refurbished Ohio platform – but that was where the similarity ended. Her deck now opened not to missiles but to cargo to be hauled into Vastiva during bad weather, part of a fleet of “leak suppliers” the VAS maintained year round.

They paid back their keep in four months of darkness.

The finishing of her load meant Captain Akilah had a few minutes to observe the approach of the two girls meant as “priority cargo” as they walked towards her boat. One wasn’t bad – the sandals were a bit much for this weather, but so be it. Her luggage was going into the forward areas. Damn well fill it up, it will… ah well, all comes out in the paycheck.

The other one… The hair... the jacket... I see why the warning came down.

The Captain took Alexis by the hand as she came near. “Welcome, candidate! We have prepared quarters below for you, and your cargo will be safely stored aboard. I personally guarantee no leakage of any sort, nor damage to any of it. If you would, our course will be southerly and it should take a good day or so to reach a safe port. If you would like, later, I shall show you the sights underwater, perhaps over dinner?” She smiles, and gives a slight bow. “Gentlemen, if you would take the lady to her cabin?”

She waits until Alexis is completely descended into the sub before addressing Sharon.

“You, we have warnings about. I should mention here, aboard my submarine, I’m God. If you so much as breathe wrong, I’m stuffing you into a torpedo tube. If you make a fuss about it, I’m firing you into the ocean. And they don’t call what we’re headed through “Shark Alley” because there’s a bowling league. Any questions – no? Good. Behave reasonably you might be on time for your own firing squad. Gentlemen? Feel free to search her before you let her on my boat. In detail. If she resists, shoot her.”

Two large sailors lift her off the ground by the arms, headed for the customs office.

OOC: Nasimah – “Zephyr”. Akilah – “One who reasons”.

Vastiva

26-04-2005, 05:37

Medea follows Hena into the Harem proper. "Who would be most likely to know of the Captain's whereabouts?" she asked briskly. She mentally calculated how much time had gone by since the incident. A few hours already. If this were Krioval, it could probably be suppressed for as many as six hours before the first leaks. Twelve if one was lucky.

“I am Kadin Captain Shama,” rumbled the one of the larger purple-robed guards from behind her facemask - the only one with gold chevrons on the hems of her sleeves – from near the ‘left’ blue doorway, where she had been talking to two others of her corps. “And you are?”

Krioval

26-04-2005, 05:50

“I am Kadin Captain Shama,” rumbled the one of the larger purple-robed guards from behind her facemask - the only one with gold chevrons on the hems of her sleeves – from near the ‘left’ blue doorway, where she had been talking to two others of her corps. “And you are?”

Medea didn't miss a beat. "The one Vastiva has commanded to 'deal with' the situation here." Her tone was matter-of-fact. "I am told that there was a fight and that two are dead. How is it that this has come to pass?"

Vastiva

26-04-2005, 06:06

Medea didn't miss a beat. "The one Vastiva has commanded to 'deal with' the situation here." Her tone was matter-of-fact. "I am told that there was a fight and that two are dead. How is it that this has come to pass?"

There wasn’t even a blink in response. “Come, I shall discuss what we have discovered so far.”

***

The twinned purple-robes (by strike of fate, actual twins) looked down at Shikuza’s form for a long minute.

They began speaking quickly between themselves in the verbal soup which was Vastivan, the only clear words being “responsibility” and “Sultan”.

There was also “mushroom”, but certainly that wasn’t correctly heard?

(The partial text of the conversation, as Shikuza can understand some of it)

“Well this is ***. We could ***…”
“No, we can’t. She is not Iqdai, she is S’fora. I don’t understand ***** but that is not our responsibility, it is that of the Sultan.”
“He is not here.”
“Are your legs broken this week? You could ****”
“Shama would ****.”
~pause~
“She looks like a mushroom lying there.”
“Better then a ***bubble. Less to clean up.”
“If we tell her she isn’t embarrassed by ****, do you think she’ll give up the ***?”
“I doubt it.”
“I suppose…”

… and it was this moment Kadin Captain Shama chose to enter the room, with Medea slightly behind.

“What IS THIS?” the voice boomed through the small room. “All were to be disarmed, this one still holds a blade? Are you two deaf or stupid?”

Both guards wither a bit, but hold their ground. “Kadin Captain, this woman has made a request, we are not empowered to answer it.”

The Kadin Captain’s boot comes down hard on the tile, splattering water. “Find something else to do. Now.”

They quickly bow and withdraw. Shama’s hand is on the grip of her pistol, but she makes no other motion. “What is your request, candidate?”

Vastiva

26-04-2005, 06:14

Engred sat patiently while a staffer (She outright refused to call them 'ghosts') rubbed soapy oils over her back and legs, where the foam had got her.
How in the world, did they get those grenades in here? she wondered. The Purple guards had restored order, and Engred saw two girls go out under 'sheets' from the pool room- two more than she'd wanted, but she hadn't had much choice-none at all, really-it wasn't her decision.

"God's got his eyes on this place." she muttered softly.

"Pardon, Ayid?" the girl washing her back asked.

Engred sighed, "Bad luck, unfortunate events... and I think there is something quite wrong going on...is it Harem policy to let people walk in with explosive or chemical devices? I thought for sure we were all being checked at the point of entry for 'em, but two people set off some kind of pepper-foam bomb inside the most secure building in the country..."

“Hardly policy, Ayid, but the Sultan’s orders were quite clear on the matter. We are to provide for any reasonable request. It could be so, a request was made for a walk outdoors. As such, Stingers would be a reasonable precautionary device. It could be so, the devices were in one of your luggages, which we are forbidden to search yet our Customs would see as nothing more then travelers safety. It could be many things, Ayid, all possible.”

The "ghost" finished her treatments. "Please excuse this one, Ayid, she has duties elsewhere." A formal bow was given, and the "ghost" retreated to another woman's bed with her kit of salves and oils.

Krioval

26-04-2005, 06:22

The Kriovalian woman dismissed Hena, and then followed the Kadin Captain wordlessly. While she had been tempted to stop the two fleeing guards and interrogate them on the spot, her rational mind won that argument. Shama could easily find the two if 'dealing with' things required it. So Medea was content to wait to see how the present crisis might be defused. But that required the woman with the sword to speak first.

Nova Hope

26-04-2005, 06:36

Shizuka took a second to swallow. Now I will know if I am to to have my honour in this life or the next. Aching and burning unbearably, having been for uncounted hours bowed on the floor, Shizuka craned her neck slightly at being addressed directly. Not lifting her eyes higher than ankle level she blinked several times at the tears that streamed from her face. She was not crying, merely watering as the ghosts could not clear away every bit of foam from her prone form. The cleaning process had been interesting as they had apparently photographed her first, most likely to preserve the evidence. While the burning on most of her body had subsided she still felt terribly irritated and the stiff aches of her joints did not make this easier.

With her eyes open slightly she blinked at the fresh stream of tears. Her eyes bleary and stinging the sight before her registered, on one side was the purple boot of the guards. This one appeared different as it had a gold chevron on it, suggesting a greater rank. The other boots caught her attention more though, as the silver and platinum inlays were worn only by the Sultan. Concluding that she was in the presence of the Sultan and a high ranking military guard Shizuka cleared her throat to express herself.

“First, I must apologize to the Sultan for drawing a weapon for battle in his home. I have dishonoured the trust that the Sultan offered me by having me in his home.
“Second, as requested, my query to your guards. I told the guards that they of course could have my sword, as the Sultan may ask for my weapon in his home at any time. My question was whether my sword was being taken to memorialize my shame, as I am to be put to death for my transgressions. If this was the case I would be happy to settle any dispute of my honour by performing jigai, I would merely ask for my tanto so that the ritual could be done properly. If I am to keep my life and make amends for my transgression I asked whether or not I would now be considered a guest of the Sultan, where my safety would be assured by his honour.
“Third, I respectfully request the right to address an apology to the Sultan directly.”

Vastiva

26-04-2005, 07:40

To-Raahmid Javani,Grand Vizier Of The Sultan
From-General Andrew Marjinsky Of The Royal Guard Of Roman Greece

You have requested Helen's medical records and such.She has been immunized for every sickness we know of.This is the first time that she has left Roman Greece.Scholastic Records you ask.She is very intelligent and knows a lot of things but is very interested in knowing more things.We would like to know ourselves that when she can come to Vastiva,what city does she go to?If you need further description of any of the records you discussed then just ask us and we will send it to you.We'll also like to open embassies and have a alliance.If you or even your Sultan has any questions or concerns,just ask and we'll try our best to answer them.

Sincerly,
Gen.Marjinsky

Ab-shalom and greetings;

If it would not be too much trouble to forward copies of the requested records, we would greatly appreciate it. A recent photograph would be appreciated as well.

We did forward the invitation to open embassies, and we would not mind trade between our nations. At this time, however, a military alliance or anything beyond a “Non-Aggression Pact” is not within the scope of negotiability.

This may, of course, change in time.

Once all of her records are in our possession, and processed, Vastiva shall send a 74SL to pick her up and take her to Sisu Vaari, our capital city.

We thank you for your time.

Go in Peace,

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

Cadillac-Gage

26-04-2005, 11:16

“You, we have warnings about. I should mention here, aboard my submarine, I’m God. If you so much as breathe wrong, I’m stuffing you into a torpedo tube. If you make a fuss about it, I’m firing you into the ocean. And they don’t call what we’re headed through “Shark Alley” because there’s a bowling league. Any questions – no? Good. Behave reasonably you might be on time for your own firing squad. Gentlemen? Feel free to search her before you let her on my boat. In detail. If she resists, shoot her.”

Two large sailors lift her off the ground by the arms, headed for the customs office.

"Wow... my own Escorts!" Sharon quipped mischeviously-triggering a blush on the face of the one on her right.
In the customs office, they pulled her jacket off, and began going through the pockets-one let out a yelp-and drew out his hand, connected to her wallet by a mousetrap. "Oops, forgot to disarm fido." She said under the whithering glare, "It's for foiling pickpockets-you can't be too careful..." she explained unnecessarily as the sailor undid the trap and opened her wallet onto the table.

Student I.D. card, two CGLOC vouchers*, her lunch card, her library card, a notice from her lawyer, and the 'Staff' identification from the Todos Santos Volunteer Shelter. Not much worth boobytrapping one's pocket for, overall.

He grunted and went back to searching the leather, while his colleague went through her pants.

The pen-knife drew a stern look. The lockpick set drew a mild reproach, but the police-issue Taser with the filed serial numbers and the extra capacitors, that inspired the two to take their searching to a whole new level- Sharon found herself stripped all-the-way-down, with a Customs Matron digging in places that a person shouldn't be touched by strangers unless they're really into that sort of thing.

They even pried up some of the patches on her jacket-uncovering another eight CGLOC vouchers, some Malkyeri Coins, eighty-two Nellisland Dollars, a slip of paper with binary numbers written on it, and a stick of mint bubblegum.

In her shirt-pocket, they found: Diagrammes for a Generation-IV 'Safe' Fission reactor design (incomplete), a pocket notebook full of notes and diagrammes that (unless you're a Nuclear Engineer) make no sense at all.

Backpack: School-books, a toolbox crammed with a variety of expensive and inexpensive hand-tools, small power tools, a soldering iron, three notebooks full of diagrammes, drawings, and obscene pictures... three Slide-Rules and a 'scientific' Calculator that would have been obselete in Vastiva twenty years ago.

A variety of pencils-including two "metalmark'' non-corrosive pencils, some 'welding Crayon' (changes colour when the surface reaches a certain temperature), eight assorted sticks of half-burnt welding rod, a brown, sealed bottle marked "Ymir's Darkest" (Roughly a pint, and unopened), a personal Cassette Player containing a bootleg copy of "Danzig III-How the Gods Kill", two Dead Kennedy's Tapes (Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables, and Give me Convenience or Give Me Death) a Warren Zevon album "I'll Sleep when I'm Dead", an Orange (going green and fuzzy), a shrivelled up apple, an ominous-looking lump of dull, gray, metal sealed in a Lexan block (about nine ounces of something), a 'Brick' Type Cell-phone, two half-packs of Cigarettes, a dead lighter....
And, an alarm clock. The wind-up kind.
Ticking. The time was off by several hours, naturally.

And... one black, spring-centred, police-issue Billy-Club (the sort that really, really, hurts if you get hit by it.) marked "Gitalong stick".

Sharon's boots revealed a number of things-including her use of disinfectants to keep them from smelling bad.

Socks and physical 'strip and cavity search' showed that Sharon's personal hygeine was quite good- even with all the effort to make it appear otherwise.
[*equivalent of $15 US]

Vastiva

26-04-2005, 17:35

Everything - down to the mousetrap - is placed in plastic bags and containers marked "EVIDENCE". With the exception of the orange, apple, mint bubblegum, Ymir's Darkest (sent to lab for testing), the lexan block of "something" and the alarm clock (sent to lab for testing, marked "possible explosive") and cigarettes and lighter (lab for testing marked "Possible Contraband"), everything is efficiently bagged, labelled, and placed in a large black metal box.

When everything is there, the box is closed and locked.

A set of bright orange overalls - much like a jumpsuit - is given to her, which she'll notice immediately is pocketless. It even has orange "booties".

As she's lead towards the submarine, one of the two Matrons turns to the other and hands her a few bills. "I'd have thought she'd have tried something now. Who wants to go through the whole effort of going to a foreign country to get shot? Meh."

As both sailors escort her to the submarine - forcibly and far from gently - a look around the base shows her not a few soldiers, rifles down but ready - a closer look at a few buildings reveals snipers, targeting... her.

Cadillac-Gage

26-04-2005, 20:58

Sharon's eyes couldn't hide her terror, and the loss of the jacket simply eradicated both the bounce, and the strut, leaving a scared little-girl in prison coveralls.

This wasn't a game anymore.

All she wanted, was to go home now.

-Ferris-

27-04-2005, 00:20

11: We're all living in a yellow submarine ...

"Thank you, Captain," Alexis replied, "I'm sure it shall be just fine. And that would be wonderful, thank you - I've never been at sea before."

The sailors ushered her into the submarine. It seemed smaller, on the inside - less like a big metal fish and more like a floating metal box. The thought did not fill her with confidence.

The cabin they showed her to was small and very plain, but not much more so than her own rooms back in the Ironspire; it was best to be frugal, when you had a chance at paying off a debt like hers.

OOC: This is horribly short, I'm afraid, but I can't get to my telegrams to make it longer. Ah well.

Krowemoh

27-04-2005, 05:03

A rather large purple-robed guard looks down on Zukie.

"Your pardon, Ayid, but would you repeat that last sentence? I am not assured I did hear it right."

Zukie glares up at the guard, as one would to an insect crawling on their favorite sandwich, "What? I said m-" Before she can finish, Kera tackles her, planting both hands over her mouth to silence her, giggling embareassedly up at the guard. Zukie struggles for a moment, but in her weaken state, can't get the little 16 year old off of her. She eventually stops.

"Umh. Hi. Don't pay any mind to Maiden here, Mi'lord. She's upset, and it's often Krowemohian custom to make idle threats, usually concerning lawsuits." Kera quickly explains, trying her darnedest to look as cute as possible, wagging her tail in a pleasingly manner, "Maiden Irawata has been assaulted in the worst manner possible, and she's venting steam by hearing herself talk. Just talk, is all. It's like how humans curse when they're bite by a stray dog, or some such." Another embareassed giggle, "So, er... Don't give anything Zukie says for the next few hours any serious thought."

Roman Greece

27-04-2005, 05:12

Ab-shalom and greetings;

If it would not be too much trouble to forward copies of the requested records, we would greatly appreciate it. A recent photograph would be appreciated as well.

We did forward the invitation to open embassies, and we would not mind trade between our nations. At this time, however, a military alliance or anything beyond a “Non-Aggression Pact” is not within the scope of negotiability.

This may, of course, change in time.

Once all of her records are in our possession, and processed, Vastiva shall send a 74SL to pick her up and take her to Sisu Vaari, our capital city.

We thank you for your time.

Go in Peace,

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

To:The Grand Vizier Of Vastiva
From:The Coptic-Orthodox Christian Fellowship Head,Alexander Kosygin

Here is a picture of Helen-http://homepage.mac.com/crowleyvt/gphoto/gphoto/images/A2.jpg

Her medical records are nothing serious. She is very healthy. She has been vaccinated for Yellow Fever,Typhoid,Tuberculosis,Malaria and several others.We will take the Non-Agression Pact as it is a good offer.If you need anything else,just ask. May Grace be with you.

Sincerly,
TCOCF Head

Krowemoh

27-04-2005, 05:20

((OOC: That link, in CLICKABLE (http://homepage.mac.com/crowleyvt/gphoto/gphoto/images/A2.jpg) form. Courtsy of Corinna Diamond's Clickable Links Inc.™ :D Ninja Vanish! *Poof of smoke and glittery sparkles stuff, then ish gone. Ooooo...*))

Roman Greece

27-04-2005, 06:03

Roman Greece

27-04-2005, 06:07

Krioval

27-04-2005, 07:51

“First, I must apologize to the Sultan for drawing a weapon for battle in his home. I have dishonoured the trust that the Sultan offered me by having me in his home.
“Second, as requested, my query to your guards. I told the guards that they of course could have my sword, as the Sultan may ask for my weapon in his home at any time. My question was whether my sword was being taken to memorialize my shame, as I am to be put to death for my transgressions. If this was the case I would be happy to settle any dispute of my honour by performing jigai, I would merely ask for my tanto so that the ritual could be done properly. If I am to keep my life and make amends for my transgression I asked whether or not I would now be considered a guest of the Sultan, where my safety would be assured by his honour.
“Third, I respectfully request the right to address an apology to the Sultan directly.”

Medea looked at Shizuka. "Put the sword on the ground and step back from it. Yes, this requires that you stand. Please do. I am unused to conversing with the tops of people's heads." She waited for the other woman to react. "I'll also need to know exactly what happened here earlier. I assume that all involved will not be talking outside of these walls? In fact," Medea said, thinking a bit more, "separate all the candidates remaining. Statements need to be taken, and there's already been far too much interaction between the candidates."

Vastiva

27-04-2005, 08:06

Medea looked at Sadira. "Put the sword on the ground and step back from it. Yes, this requires that you stand. Please do. I am unused to conversing with the tops of people's heads." She waited for the other woman to react. "I'll also need to know exactly what happened here earlier. I assume that all involved will not be talking outside of these walls?"

"No one will be leaving these walls without my express orders," Kadin Captain Shama snips. "What they talk about within is not my concern. And there is no connection out any longer.

She steps back. "We have pieced together some of this. There was an altercation there, in a bathtub. Apparently, a Polar Bear Stinger™ was set off in the bathwater of a Neko. A second one was thrown at the ceiling - you will note the foam still clings there, and it is a short-range device. Even so, it splattered, and many were hit.

"We have two parts of a glasswork vase, shattered as if thrown but with a smooth edge, meaning it was cut. Seven shampoo bottles were also cut, and we have this chop in my floor" - not happy about that - "However, no injuries were from bladed weapons - all are stab wounds or blunt trauma, or secondary from the foam, or from hands, teeth, and the like.

"We have a knee injury with a weapon which matches the ones in this woman's hair. We also have several other injuries from blunt trauma. The two deaths were inflicted in hand to hand combat - blow to the temple followed by immersion in water, and a broken neck.

"We can identify neither dead woman, nor five other injured individuals - they are being held for questioning.

"If you would tell me how you want them separated, I would be happy to comply. It is not often I am asked to separate one hundred and eighty four people."

Krioval

27-04-2005, 08:18

Vastiva

27-04-2005, 08:20

Vastiva

27-04-2005, 08:26

All right, she thought. It's coming together now. Thank the Gods for that training. Military justice was a required course for any soldier in Krioval who might someday be part of an occupying force. "So far so good. Forensic experts are on hand, yes? I'd like the entire crime scene surveyed. The stingers can be traced to their origins, I assume. As for the girls, it's a challenge, but the primary concern is that all involved give original testimony. It's harder to 'harmonize' stories that way. Is the Harem under telepath block?" The last was a decidedly Kriovalian question, but it applied to this situation as well - Medea had no idea who could or couldn't be telepathic. "If not, that makes this whole mess tougher still. Oh, and please mark that blade as official evidence, along with anything else even remotely related to the crime scene. It's 'martial law' down here from now until the situation changes."

Kadin Captain Shama's voice takes on the same tone as one who is talking to a classroom of first-years.

"If it is your instruction to reduce the law here from mine to military rule, we can of course accede to your wishes, though I shall report such to ou... my Sultan forthwith.

"Our Forensics have already been here; please note the room has been cleaned of most debris, save the holes and some sweeping up. Both Stingers are from Palace stores - we have casing markings to prove that. We shall be summoning an... interrogator for your usage. If there is more you require, I shall have to send someone to get further reports or provide you with a M-TCOD.

"The Harem itself is blocked from everything short of repeated nuclear assault, currently. And as you wish me to remove her blade from her, then you will of course do the honor of answering her questions - starting with, is she a guest, or not?"

Krioval

27-04-2005, 08:40

Kadin Captain Shama's voice takes on the same tone as one who is talking to a classroom of first-years.

"If it is your instruction to reduce the law here from mine to military rule, we can of course accede to your wishes, though I shall report such to ou... my Sultan forthwith.

Medea drew herself up to her full 5'6" and locked eyes with the Captain. "Technically," she said, confidence rising every second, "you do not rule here currently. I do." She paused a moment. "However, you are correct in that there is a power greater than both of ours. And the division between military and non-military police here is now made clear. Now, I think we'll work better together" She didn't bother to wait for a response before continuing to address Shama's other points.

"Our Forensics have already been here; please note the room has been cleaned of most debris, save the holes and some sweeping up. Both Stingers are from Palace stores - we have casing markings to prove that. We shall be summoning an... interrogator for your usage. If there is more you require, I shall have to send someone to get further reports or provide you with a M-TCOD.

"Good. What is an M-TCOD? I am unfamiliar with that phrase." Even Raijin doesn't know everything, she thought, to reassure herself. They can't honestly expect me to be omniscient.

"The Harem itself is blocked from everything short of repeated nuclear assault, currently. And as you wish me to remove her blade from her, then you will of course do the honor of answering her questions - starting with, is she a guest, or not?"

"Yes, for now. She will have to be questioned, at the very least. I am curious as to how the blade was brought into this building in the first place, however. Other than that, I am impressed with the speed and detail of your work this far."

Vastiva

27-04-2005, 08:56

First the Kadin Captain turns to a guard and babbles quickly. She then turns back - and her tone hasn't changed.

She then turns back once the guard has vanished. "It will take a few minutes to requisition a device from stores with a key. In the meantime, it might interest you to review the order of receiving. We removed anything chemical or biological - or nuclear - in nature, but all other personal weaponry was passed. Even here, it is a right to hold so, and we have no difficulties with this."

As she finishes, her gaze is upon the doorway - and loses some color. Turning, Medea is confronted by a shortish woman wearing plain robes of red with an inverted chevron of black down the front, continued to the back. This robe is also hooded, which is somewhat unusual - most Vastivan's use "facemask and headcloth" on indoor clothings.

She looks at Shama first, and gives a slight formal bow, then to Medea and gives a deeper formal bow - but not very low at all - at which Medea notices a thin loop of platinum around her head, much like a crown or circlet.

"Alisha Sadiqah ibn Faroq. I am Mossadiqqah. You did summon?"

Krioval

27-04-2005, 09:15

She looks at Shama first, and gives a slight formal bow, then to Medea and gives a deeper formal bow - but not very low at all - at which Medea notices a thin loop of platinum around her head, much like a crown or circlet.

"Alisha Sadiqah ibn Faroq. I am Mossadiqqah. You did summon?"

"Yes." The Kriovalian felt a presence. A talent? she thought, guarding her mind ever so slightly. "Thank you for coming. I have need to determine the events in this room from this morning."

Vastiva

27-04-2005, 09:20

The moment Medea's eyes meet Sadiqah's, she looks through Medea with an unfocused gaze for a moment. "He's taken. And not with your type, but with a priest."

She shakes her head, as if clearing it, turning her glance to the floor.

"What service do you require, Tomodos Dalai?"

Cadillac-Gage

27-04-2005, 10:08

Meanwhile in Mosselbaai, South Africa

Captain Akilah made absolutely sure Sharon was in her room, with a guard outside, before the submarine set sail.

She stepped into the little room and was rewarded with Sharon pulling back on the bed, pulling the regulation blanket they’d given her over herself.

“Before I start talking, I’d like to hear any other… remarks you have stored up. Best to get them out of the way first; I want your undivided attention. Do I have it then?”

She gave him a small nod.

“Good. Here’s how this works. You are a troublemaker. I cannot afford any trouble on my boat. Hence, if you stick your head out of this room, I’ll have it cut off. If you put a finger out of this room, I’ll have it removed. If you give any of my crew hell, I’ll stuff you in a torpedo tube.

“If you’re halfway decent, you’ll be provided for as any other passenger. Give me no trouble at all, and that’s what I’ll report on your arrival.

“Your gear is stowed, and will remain apart from you until we land. Do not ask for anything to escape, make a weapon, or otherwise cause me trouble. If you care for something other then that, we’ll do our best to provide it. Is all of this clear?”

Alexis, her room being open to the same hallway, hears each and every word of this short sermon by the Captain…

Sharon held perfectly still. "okay." she said, adding, "i didn't mean to screw it all up." Her tone was quiet and kind of bleak, but she added, "I won't make any trouble..."

I'm always screwing it up. always getting it wrong. Why do I try? maybe it'd be better for everyone if they did put me in a torpedo tube and shoot me out into the ocean.

Engred's disapproving face flashed the thought away-that, and the memory of Magritte's sewing-kit.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" the Captain asked.

"i forgot to take my medicine, it's in the alarm clock..." she said quietly, then, a little stronger, "...Actually, I've been 'forgetting' to take it for the last three months-it slows me down too much, and I'm the only underclassman in Heisenberg's course, but don't tell Engred, she'd be max-pissed about it-she made me go to the doc after...something happened. I think maybe forgetting to take it was a mistake."

Cadillac-Gage

27-04-2005, 10:42

Engred stopped to see how Zukie was doing.
"...could you repeat that last sentence?"...

"She's just angry about having her skin half-burnt off." Engred interrupted the Guard's question loudly-saving the Cat-Girl several kinds of further inconvenience, "...As am I." she used the 'stone face' look. "One might get the impression that security here has grown complacent when policies are relied upon instead of solid sense-for instance, letting irritant-bombs into a room-complex with no exterior exits through which a Polar Bear might enter to be Stung.... a Room-Complex full of the Sultan's guests, people who might believe that their personal safety holds some sort of importance equal to that of their obvious comforts and luxuries??" she tapped her foot, to add emphasis, "In fact, it begs the question of how many of us, in here, are supposed to be here, if policies are being relied upon instead of prudent judgement- By the way, where were the guards when the fight broke out?" She advanced a step, and added, "You have almost two hundered people in an intense, pressure-cooker of competition, but nobody available to manage Crowd Control, no control over what goes in??"

she tapped one arm against the other with an audible click in a gesture of stern displeasure familiar to villagers throughout Mykonok Canton, diverting her attention long enough to say, "Hello, Kera! have you seen Medea today?"

Nova Hope

27-04-2005, 16:59

Shizuka took that information in. It did answer her question, though oddly. Perhaps the word means less to her, to take status from one so easily. I must endeavor to ensure that none of my actions provoke further dishonour. Were I to lose status as guest I would have to return to my country shamed. Indeed the clan would have to make amends for me, showing me even further dishonour.

Moving her head and arms off the floor Shizuka stayed on her knees, the sword stayed on the floor where her hands had just pressed it. Making eye contact with though about her, though still on her knees, Shizuka came to the realization of what had happened. It would seem that a certain amount of authority has been transferred to Medea. Most likely from the office of the Sultan and via his bed; very well.
“My apologies, I do not as yet feel that I have apologized thoroughly enough to stand in your presence yet. I will of course do my best to answer all that I can.” Shizuka at this time looked like a mess. With her hands in loose fists on her thighs the traditional pose of submission seemed to merely accentuate her state of affairs. Her face was swollen from the foam, and her white face paint was smeared from tears, shampoo, and water. Her hair was tangled and unmanaged, as she’d taken the pin out and it’d fallen into disarray. Her feet, should one look behind her, were bright red and swollen profusely as they’d been in contact with the most foam and for the longest period. Shizuka silently lamented that barefoot may not be the best idea here.
“I must enquire whether or not you mean to take this one weapon from me as evidence, or whether you mean to disarm me completely. Should you wish my complete disarmament I am obliged to inform you that a complete set of blades is within luggage. Not to mention duplicate katana.
“As for the slashed vase, shampoo bottles, statue, and floor they were all indeed my doing and mine alone. The vase was slashed when it was thrown at me to disarm me. The shampoo bottles were slashed for quick access to the neutralizing effects, as many were burning due to the foam. I felt that Zukie, being completely exposed to the force of one of the stingers, needed immediate relief. The statue was being used as an instrument of harm towards someone, I felt that this sort of attack must be prevented, so I disarmed the woman by halving the statue. The floor was damaged when I drove my katana into it for traction. I was unable to pull the woman in the pool out by my belt because the foam seems to be very oily. The katana in an upright fashion gave me a point of balance when my leg became fully extended from pushing off that statue. I must apologize for all that I have done. I will of course be making several formal apologies; I merely have not been to my personal effects where I would be able to properly compose a haiku, or five, expressing my shame.
“The savage attack on one of the other women’s kneecap was again my doing yes. I sought to rapidly remove her from combat so I might’ve continued my rescue attempts of the drowning victim.
“I must apologize for that again, as I have theoretically drawn a weapon twice in the home of the Sultan. First; when I drew my katana to defend against those who would utilize the stingers for pranks and then take it too far when they toss those unable to swim into the pools. Second when I drew my hairpin in defence of my rescue efforts. For these I must apologize. No words thought of in haste can adequately express my remorse at my shameful behavior. As it is I can only throw my self at your sweet mercies and pray that inspiration strikes me when I draft my formal apologies.”
“…”
When asked for what happened specifically Shizuka recounts the events exactly as they happened, though her account is peppered with apologies about her shameful behavior. Indeed part way through the tale Shizuka’s body twitched slightly as she almost threw herself back down into full submission posture. As it is she stayed on her knees, albeit making eye contact with Medea as she requested. After she had recounted the events to Medea Shizuka was struck with a slice of irony. This is the woman I had spoken with before. I had thought she was one who would tend easily to violence and be unable to acclimatize to the life of servitude. Now here she is inducted into the harem and I kneel to be chastised for my use of violence in the home of the Sultan. It would appear that I have made the assumption about the competition, not her. Perhaps I need to address a formal apology to her too. This bemusement was of course entirely internal as her face and body posture portrayed nothing but her very real shame.

(OOC: Vas I’m not sure how intrusive your psi character is so I though I’d throw this up. Shizuka’s surface thoughts are very ordered and easily accessed when the attempt is made. More secure things of course are another matter but that which she is currently thinking is fair game. The only thing I’d suggest is that the difficulty would not be in accessing the thoughts but in handling them. Shizuka is trained to be a stoic, yet artistic thought and emotion are encouraged. So she must have the wildly vibrant feelings but no outward emanations of them. I’m not sure how you write psi but I would figure that’d make for an interesting experience for a psi to experience delving into. If she’s unobtrusive in her psi abilities then very little would be picked up because, as I said, she is trained regarding outward emanation. While this may not be psi training I would figure that there would be some manifestation of that emotional retention in her psi self.

If you’re not writing in that regard than leave it be, and this has just been food for thought.)

Krioval

27-04-2005, 19:46

So what? Medea thought defiantly. I knew I wasn't going to be the only one. Too bad though... Her thoughts snapped back to the present. Turning to the red-robed woman, Medea said simply, "There was a disruption here this morning. I need all the women present to give their account of it." Pointing to Shizuka, the Kriovalian said, "Please start with her. I would like to return her blade should she prove to be innocent of wrongdoing."

Findhorn

28-04-2005, 04:12

The faintly medicinal scent of tefeach that spread gently through the Harem proved to be even more healing than Myfanwy had expected. She had brewed it to help Ka'tal after the uproar; it was supposed to be just a quiet comforter.

But several people, attracted by the smell, had drifted over to ask about it, perhaps seizing on such a simple thing as an excuse to get life back to normal. One, the girl with gloves on her injured hands, had seemed to know a fair bit of herb lore. Engred, her name was. Myfanwy decided she would try to get to know her when she had a chance.

The chance wasn't going to be soon, though. The place was buzzing with all the people who should have been there when the fight started. Someone was exercising authority, Myfanwy could see: body language, voice tones, clusters breaking up and re-forming, all pointed to the presence of some "human pack Alpha".

Which was a good enough reason for her to lie low. Like other professional loners, Myfanwy knew that it was better to move on than to be moved on. I'm not here, she thought, you can't see me; the game she had played since childhood whenever she was trying to avoid the eye of possibly unsympathetic authority. She glided towards one of the blue rooms. She remembered there was supposed to be water there; water was home.

But as she approached the door her eye was caught by the scene in a pillar. It was nothing out of the ordinary: a headland, white ice; water crashing below, black; somewhere in Vastiva. Except in the elements of height above, water below, it was nothing like "Myfanwy's spot" back home, where she always went for solace.

Yet the feeling of honecoming was so strong that she chose to sit there, rather than go on to the pools and grottoes behind the blue doorway. Her spirit reached out to the Goddess Herself; her mind began the automatic patterns of prayer, the gentle calling to mind of all those who loved and were loved ...

Vastiva

28-04-2005, 08:10

To:The Grand Vizier Of Vastiva
From:The Coptic-Orthodox Christian Fellowship Head,Alexander Kosygin

Here is a picture of Helen-http://homepage.mac.com/crowleyvt/gphoto/gphoto/images/A2.jpg

Her medical records are nothing serious. She is very healthy. She has been vaccinated for Yellow Fever,Typhoid,Tuberculosis,Malaria and several others.We will take the Non-Agression Pact as it is a good offer.If you need anything else,just ask. May Grace be with you.

Sincerly,
TCOCF Head

Ab-shalom and greetings;

Please forward the full records, as requested. We have deployed our aircraft to pick her up.

We thank you for your time.

Go in Peace,

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

OOC: Just add “forwards all records” in your letter, you don’t need to spell everything out.

***

So what? Medea thought defiantly. I knew I wasn't going to be the only one. Too bad though... Her thoughts snapped back to the present. Turning to the red-robed woman, Medea said simply, "There was a disruption here this morning. I need all the women present to give their account of it." Pointing to Shizuka, the Kriovalian said, "Please start with her. I would like to return her blade should she prove to be innocent of wrongdoing."

Sadiquh nods. "As you wish, though your thoughts are ill-aimed..."

“As she has said, is the truth. The damage to the floor is hers, though it was done protecting the life of an innocent. She did strike only as stated. The only question is her belief this was a prank. It was not, but she was truly not aware of that fact.”

She turns her attention briefly as high as Medea’s chest, then brings her hood up, covering the upper portion of her face.

OOC: Yes, very "Emperor Palpatine/Jedi". However it also prevents her from looking at anyone she is not directed to, and is easier to use then sunglasses.

Gnufasur

28-04-2005, 08:37

Relunctently, Sae disrobed and changed into the bathrobes presented to her. The black robes she folded neatly, politely refusing any help from any of the servants. "These robes are symbolic of my connection to my Spirital Energy. Only my hands may touch them in such a manner, or I risk corrupting the link it establishes." She explained to one whom seemed hell bent on folding the robes for Sae.

Taking a slip of Spirit Paper, she scribbles a spell on it, chants over it, and plants it squarely on the robe. She then hands the neatly folded robes to the servant. The spell would prevent residual spirit energy from others corrupting the robes, and the incantation she just used would prevent anyone else besides herself from removing the Spirit Paper.

Still wearing her hat and veil, Sae found that shje was still able to wrap her tail around one of her legs, thusly keeping it out of sight. These humans are clearly racists. As long as they believe I too am human, then chances are I shall be left alone. She kept an eye on Medea and the woman whose aura felt cold, as if it were empty. What an odd aura... I've never felt one such as this before... Sae thought to herself.

((OOC: Vasty, can you hop on AIM?))

Krioval

28-04-2005, 08:39

Sadiquh nods. "As you wish, though your thoughts are ill-aimed..."

I'm not surprised. Telepathy's not my thing, she thought, resigning herself to that aspect of herself.

“As she has said, is the truth. The damage to the floor is hers, though it was done protecting the life of an innocent. She did strike only as stated. The only question is her belief this was a prank. It was not, but she was truly not aware of that fact.”

"Then she is innocent of wrongdoing, and as a guest, is entitled to her blade." Turning to Shizuka, Medea said, "Your honor is demonstrated. Take your weapon." Returning her focus to Sadiquh, Medea says, "You know who is responsible for initiating this." It wasn't so much a question as a statement of fact - it was likely the case, so far as she could guess.

Vastiva

28-04-2005, 08:42

Sharon held perfectly still. "okay." she said, adding, "i didn't mean to screw it all up." Her tone was quiet and kind of bleak, but she added, "I won't make any trouble..."

I'm always screwing it up. always getting it wrong. Why do I try? maybe it'd be better for everyone if they did put me in a torpedo tube and shoot me out into the ocean.

Engred's disapproving face flashed the thought away-that, and the memory of Magritte's sewing-kit.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" the Captain asked.

"i forgot to take my medicine, it's in the alarm clock..." she said quietly, then, a little stronger, "...Actually, I've been 'forgetting' to take it for the last three months-it slows me down too much, and I'm the only underclassman in Heisenberg's course, but don't tell Engred, she'd be max-pissed about it-she made me go to the doc after...something happened. I think maybe forgetting to take it was a mistake."

“I shall put word to the labworks about it – if the medication is in our stores, it shall be provided, though our formulations may be different then you are used to. Provided it tests as what it says it is.

“For right now, supper is in a few hours, and I again request you stay put.” Her visage softens a bit. “If you would care for something to read, or watch?”

***

Zukie glares up at the guard, as one would to an insect crawling on their favorite sandwich, "What? I said m-" Before she can finish, Kera tackles her, planting both hands over her mouth to silence her, giggling embareassedly up at the guard. Zukie struggles for a moment, but in her weaken state, can't get the little 16 year old off of her. She eventually stops.

"Umh. Hi. Don't pay any mind to Maiden here, Mi'lord. She's upset, and it's often Krowemohian custom to make idle threats, usually concerning lawsuits." Kera quickly explains, trying her darnedest to look as cute as possible, wagging her tail in a pleasingly manner, "Maiden Irawata has been assaulted in the worst manner possible, and she's venting steam by hearing herself talk. Just talk, is all. It's like how humans curse when they're bite by a stray dog, or some such." Another embareassed giggle, "So, er... Don't give anything Zukie says for the next few hours any serious thought."

“We would suggest she speak into a pillow, then. Or we can provide sedatives or tranquilizers, as she requires or requests.”

"She's just angry about having her skin half-burnt off." Engred interrupted the Guard's question loudly-saving the Cat-Girl several kinds of further inconvenience, "...As am I." she used the 'stone face' look. "One might get the impression that security here has grown complacent when policies are relied upon instead of solid sense-for instance, letting irritant-bombs into a room-complex with no exterior exits through which a Polar Bear might enter to be Stung.... a Room-Complex full of the Sultan's guests, people who might believe that their personal safety holds some sort of importance equal to that of their obvious comforts and luxuries??" she tapped her foot, to add emphasis, "In fact, it begs the question of how many of us, in here, are supposed to be here, if policies are being relied upon instead of prudent judgement- By the way, where were the guards when the fight broke out?" She advanced a step, and added, "You have almost two hundered people in an intense, pressure-cooker of competition, but nobody available to manage Crowd Control, no control over what goes in??"

she tapped one arm against the other with an audible click in a gesture of stern displeasure familiar to villagers throughout Mykonok Canton, diverting her attention long enough to say, "Hello, Kera! have you seen Medea today?"

The guard shrugged at Engred. “As you wish, little one. You shall have a guard on you at all times.” She then plants her finger in Engred’s chest and pushes “If it would not be too much trouble, do remain in the area of your bed, as requested, until such things as are required are accomplished.”

Vastiva

28-04-2005, 08:48

"Then she is innocent of wrongdoing, and as a guest, is entitled to her blade." Turning to Shizuka, Medea said, "Your honor is demonstrated. Take your weapon." Returning her focus to Sadiquh, Medea says, "You know who is responsible for initiating this." It wasn't so much a question as a statement of fact - it was likely the case, so far as she could guess.

“It would follow, if there have been… detentions, there would be some manner of reasoning why they are detained. It would also follow, due to this woman’s story, that the dead ones were part of that group, which further removes the one who did the killing from that consideration. These things are logical.”

The edge of her hood does not uncover her eyes.

"It would therefore appear prudent to next question those who were attacked, to discover commonality. The use of the weapons indicates thought, the type of weapon indicates a need to incapacitate, not kill. These things, again, are logically obvious."

Krioval

28-04-2005, 08:54

"It would therefore appear prudent to next question those who were attacked, to discover commonality. The use of the weapons indicates thought, the type of weapon indicates a need to incapacitate, not kill. These things, again, are logically obvious."

"Then proceed with the questioning." Medea looked at the Captain again. "Do you have reports of the detainees' interrogations?"

Vastiva

28-04-2005, 09:11

Kadin Captain Shama accepts the M-TCOD presented by a purple-robe. She plays with it for a moment, then presents it to Medea. "Place your thumb where obvious, then press. That keys the device to you. Once there, the controls are interactive, intuitive, and learning. It should not be overdifficult to discover where the interview files are."

Sadiquh merely asks "Whom?"

Cadillac-Gage

28-04-2005, 10:52

“I shall put word to the labworks about it – if the medication is in our stores, it shall be provided, though our formulations may be different then you are used to. Provided it tests as what it says it is.

“For right now, supper is in a few hours, and I again request you stay put.” Her visage softens a bit. “If you would care for something to read, or watch?”

***

“We would suggest she speak into a pillow, then. Or we can provide sedatives or tranquilizers, as she requires or requests.”

The guard shrugged at Engred. “As you wish, little one. You shall have a guard on you at all times.” She then plants her finger in Engred’s chest and pushes “If it would not be too much trouble, do remain in the area of your bed, as requested, until such things as are required are accomplished.”

Engred flushed dark, "I. do. not. need. my. own. bodyguard, not after the damage has already been Done." she was visibly shaking. "You might want to consider putting someone on Zukie here, or that nice Aliandra girl I dragged out of the pool, bucko-see, if I get trashed, it's not but a small thing, a short note and dispose-of-the-body, but if one of them gets seriously hurt, or maybe dead, that is enough to make International Class heap-bad-trouble, trouble the Sultan will have to spend time and effort to fix, time and effort that is better spent on things he finds important.Chu Sabe?*"

Engred's voice never rose above level, sweetish calm. Her Glare on the other hand, could boil iron into steam, or freeze hydrogen into a solid.

"I'm going back to my bed." she passed a friendly look at Kera and Zukie, "See you gals later, maybe."

[*Chu Sabe: Slang, Phrase, Mokjnok Canton, Pronounced Choo-Sah-Bae, "Do you Understand my concern, you moron?"]

Krioval

28-04-2005, 18:27

Sadiquh merely asks "Whom?"

"May as well start with the ones I know. Engred, and then Zukie and Kera. I'd bet they know something."

Cadillac-Gage

28-04-2005, 19:59

Engred 'Flumphed' onto 'her' bed, silently fuming. It's perfectly Obvious. What in the hell is wrong with these people?? The whole mess was, quite obviously, designed to embarass the Sultanate in some way.
Okay, if we assume it's foreign, who here has a nation with a beef against the Sultanate of Vastiva? she propped herself up on her elbows. no. The behaviour of the Guard, and their tardiness, militated against an outside enemy a little too strongly.
The staffer knew what those cannister-grenades were for, and what they can do. the users knew what they can do too.
It had to be someone familiar with Palace protocols, Vastivan technology, and an 'in' with Palace administration or security.

Somehow, Engred doubted it was the Sultan.

Rahmid Jahvani? no... not the Vizier. Who else..? Engred knew one thing-someone else was involved. Briefly, she went back to the occupants of the Harem itself. The staff were unendingly polite and solicitous-but that could be a professional requirement. She realized she didn't know enough about the people around her.

The Voltarum

29-04-2005, 00:50

Vastiva

29-04-2005, 06:58

Engred flushed dark, "I. do. not. need. my. own. bodyguard, not after the damage has already been Done." she was visibly shaking. "You might want to consider putting someone on Zukie here, or that nice Aliandra girl I dragged out of the pool, bucko-see, if I get trashed, it's not but a small thing, a short note and dispose-of-the-body, but if one of them gets seriously hurt, or maybe dead, that is enough to make International Class heap-bad-trouble, trouble the Sultan will have to spend time and effort to fix, time and effort that is better spent on things he finds important.Chu Sabe?*"

Engred's voice never rose above level, sweetish calm. Her Glare on the other hand, could boil iron into steam, or freeze hydrogen into a solid.

"I'm going back to my bed." she passed a friendly look at Kera and Zukie, "See you gals later, maybe."

[*Chu Sabe: Slang, Phrase, Mokjnok Canton, Pronounced Choo-Sah-Bae, "Do you Understand my concern, you moron?"]

Engred might as well have been talking to a brick wall for all the good it did her.

Having her - and her bed - moved to next to Zukie and Kera was just a simple spank in comparison to having an armed guard standing next to her at all times.

"There, Ayid. Now you can watch your charge, and we can watch both of you that much easier. Simplicity itself."

The guard might be grinning - difficult to tell behind the facecloth.

Vastiva

29-04-2005, 07:04

Neira and Ka'tal sat across the room, from what now they were sure was some sort of inquisition. Neira sat and played with her grata beads, as Ka'tal slowly scanned the room, and thought to herself....

There is no telling how many in here are not candidates... they could have not attacked...The guard's lateness, the absence of the sultan... the sands of time are slowly falling, and I am blind and deaf to its passage. I must find out...her safety is at stake...

Ka'tal shakes off the thought, and continues to scan the room... studying, watching every woman who comes close enough... watching what they eat, how they eat, who they talk to, who is not talking. She is interrupted.

"Hey Ka't, want to play some chess? I bet we can get a board in here... well, although you could probably kill someone with a bishop, huh." She laughed, half wishing she was wrong. "I don't know if that guard over there would like that," motioning to Medea.

She is no guard. "You can always ask, my Lady. Although, I confess I would not be a good opponent right now... I am... preoccupied."

"Hrm, good. I haven't beaten you in almost 6 months." She motioned to the nearest ghost.

"I am sorry to bother you, and sorry to ask this of you. Would it be possible to get a chess board in here?"....

Just as the ghost "reappears" with a chess set of onyx and ivory, the Kadin Captain strolls out of the Pink Room- truly, a rolling walk, all on the balls of the feet - and heads towards Engred, Zukie, and Kera, leading Medea by several steps.

"May as well start with the ones I know. Engred, and then Zukie and Kera. I'd bet they know something."

"As you will note, we have seen to it they are very close to each other."

She does nothing to indicate the presence of the Musaddiqah is anything out of the ordinary, save gives an involuntary shudder as the woman stops behind the Kadin Captain, facing the trio - but does not raise her hood.

"If you would not mind, Ayids, there are a few questions she wishes to put to you."

A vague familiarity with the woman's manner... passes quickly.

Krioval

29-04-2005, 07:42

"If you would not mind, Ayids, there are a few questions she wishes to put to you."

Medea walked up to her earlier traveling companions. "You were attacked? Can you describe what happened?" She figured the reintroductions could wait, as could the 'details', if she ever felt comfortable about discussing *that*.

Cadillac-Gage

29-04-2005, 11:50

Engred rolled over and looked up. "Hi Medea, nice outfit, You missed all the fun. I got to drag a drowner out of the pool while some fools were throwing pepper-foam bombs, and the Guards were on their lunchbreak, me, with, like, no goddamned hands..." she emphasized by banging the wrappings together, "...dragging a girl who can't swim out of the water. Ruined a perfectly good wool suitjacket and skirt doing it, too, and got this nifty burn on my backside from an airburst 'polar bear stinger'-apparently nobody thinks anything of using them indoors in a place where the odds of a polar-bear encounter are slim and none..." She cast a whithering glance at the guard, "Or maybe I'm overestimating here, maybe we all need to be keeping one under the pillow. It took several minutes for the Guardforce to bother getting off their tuckusses and interventions to be made-during which, two dead people and more wounded than there should ever be when it's as preventable as the festivities this morning."

Meanwhile, on the Submarine...

Sharon bit her lower lip. "mmm... I think it was called 'prozinal', but I'm not sure... I guess I should probably eat something..." Her tone was flat and colourless, "...But I'm not hungry. I guess a book or something to read."

Krioval

30-04-2005, 04:01

Engred rolled over and looked up. "Hi Medea, nice outfit, You missed all the fun. I got to drag a drowner out of the pool while some fools were throwing pepper-foam bombs, and the Guards were on their lunchbreak, me, with, like, no goddamned hands..." she emphasized by banging the wrappings together, "...dragging a girl who can't swim out of the water. Ruined a perfectly good wool suitjacket and skirt doing it, too, and got this nifty burn on my backside from an airburst 'polar bear stinger'-apparently nobody thinks anything of using them indoors in a place where the odds of a polar-bear encounter are slim and none..." She cast a whithering glance at the guard, "Or maybe I'm overestimating here, maybe we all need to be keeping one under the pillow. It took several minutes for the Guardforce to bother getting off their tuckusses and interventions to be made-during which, two dead people and more wounded than there should ever be when it's as preventable as the festivities this morning."

Medea concentrated for a moment. "Let's see here. Starting with these interrogation reports, it looks like some of the girls were ordered to arrive early and create problems. I think an interview with the one named 'Sadira' is in order. That aside for a moment, it looks like the troublemakers were from Vastiva, not a foreign nation, which fails to surprise me. What remains is why military forces would be told to cause problems in the Sultan's harem. Kadir Captain, have you any idea why this might be?"

Vastiva

30-04-2005, 04:02

The Captain departs.

An hour or so later – hard to tell time without a clock – the Ship’s Doctor arrives with a spray hypo.

“Hello, Sharon, I’m Doctor Ghavami. We contacted the lab, and verified your story, then had a conversation with the pharmacy in Cadillac-Gage. While this vessel doesn’t carry prozinal, we do have a selection of chemically similar medications. I’ve mixed up a version according to the formulation from Cadillac-Gage and added a tranquilizer and mood-stabilizer series, all of it time release. Hold out your arm please?”

Psssht!

“There, that didn’t hurt, did it? I’ll see you again in twelve hours.”

A few minutes later, a crewman arrives with a flat flexi-screen, the same sort Zukie read in the shower with. “We recorded the last week worth of broadcast, so you’ll be able to watch pretty much whatever you want, if you don’t mind reruns. Sorry, no remote, but you can set the controls to respond to quick movements. It also plays music and displays text – just run the menu.”

He leaves it playing on a light classical channel. “Supper will be soon, do you have a preference? Doc said you have to eat something.”

***

To: The Coptic-Orthodox Christian Fellowship Head,Alexander Kosygin

Ab-shalom and greetings,

Our 74SL is enroute and shall be awaiting your candidate.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

***

Engred rolled over and looked up. "Hi Medea, nice outfit, You missed all the fun. I got to drag a drowner out of the pool while some fools were throwing pepper-foam bombs, and the Guards were on their lunchbreak, me, with, like, no goddamned hands..." she emphasized by banging the wrappings together, "...dragging a girl who can't swim out of the water. Ruined a perfectly good wool suitjacket and skirt doing it, too, and got this nifty burn on my backside from an airburst 'polar bear stinger'-apparently nobody thinks anything of using them indoors in a place where the odds of a polar-bear encounter are slim and none..." She cast a whithering glance at the guard, "Or maybe I'm overestimating here, maybe we all need to be keeping one under the pillow. It took several minutes for the Guardforce to bother getting off their tuckusses and interventions to be made-during which, two dead people and more wounded than there should ever be when it's as preventable as the festivities this morning."

“What she says about what she witnessed, she believes, though she has exaggerated in a few places in a sarcastic form.” Sadiqah’s voice comes from under the hood, though her gaze is now on Engred. “It is also most of her back that has been burned. She believes what she says.”

Vastiva

30-04-2005, 04:08

Medea concentrated for a moment. "Let's see here. Starting with these interrogation reports, it looks like some of the girls were ordered to arrive early and create problems. I think an interview with the one named 'Sadira' is in order. That aside for a moment, it looks like the troublemakers were from Vastiva, not a foreign nation, which fails to surprise me. What remains is why military forces would be told to cause problems in the Sultan's harem. Kadir Captain, have you any idea why this might be?"

Blase answer. "A good number of those here, and who were in the apartments, are placed for the reason of testing temperments. The general idea is to perceive if those here can live together in at least semi-harmony for a duration by creating a situation which creates artificial pressure.

"And no, use of chemical agents is not part of that testing. Nor is combat - this is to be avoided."

Krioval

30-04-2005, 04:30

Blase answer. "A good number of those here, and who were in the apartments, are placed for the reason of testing temperments. The general idea is to perceive if those here can live together in at least semi-harmony for a duration by creating a situation which creates artificial pressure.

"And no, use of chemical agents is not part of that testing. Nor is combat - this is to be avoided."

"In that case, they either took their orders too far, or they have 'other' orders. Can the detainees be compelled to release that information?"

Vastiva

30-04-2005, 05:28

"That would seem to be in the reports given."

Roman Greece

30-04-2005, 06:31

The Captain departs.

An hour or so later – hard to tell time without a clock – the Ship’s Doctor arrives with a spray hypo.

“Hello, Sharon, I’m Doctor Ghavami. We contacted the lab, and verified your story, then had a conversation with the pharmacy in Cadillac-Gage. While this vessel doesn’t carry prozinal, we do have a selection of chemically similar medications. I’ve mixed up a version according to the formulation from Cadillac-Gage and added a tranquilizer and mood-stabilizer series, all of it time release. Hold out your arm please?”

Psssht!

“There, that didn’t hurt, did it? I’ll see you again in twelve hours.”

A few minutes later, a crewman arrives with a flat flexi-screen, the same sort Zukie read in the shower with. “We recorded the last week worth of broadcast, so you’ll be able to watch pretty much whatever you want, if you don’t mind reruns. Sorry, no remote, but you can set the controls to respond to quick movements. It also plays music and displays text – just run the menu.”

He leaves it playing on a light classical channel. “Supper will be soon, do you have a preference? Doc said you have to eat something.”

***

To: The Coptic-Orthodox Christian Fellowship Head,Alexander Kosygin

Ab-shalom and greetings,

Our 74SL is enroute and shall be awaiting your candidate.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

***

“What she says about what she witnessed, she believes, though she has exaggerated in a few places in a sarcastic form.” Sadiqah’s voice comes from under the hood, though her gaze is now on Engred. “It is also most of her back that has been burned. She believes what she says.”

In the city of St.Joan(named after Joan Of Arc by French speakers),a military parade began in full splendour. Helen was waiting at the airport for the Vastivan plane to pick her up to take her to the Harem. ''I hope the Harem is fun.'' Helen said happily. The Byzantine Rifle Infantry formed a line beside Helen and fired gun salutes. ''Long Live Roman Greece!'' the people yelled.

OOC-Now you can pick her up.

Krioval

30-04-2005, 08:28

"That would seem to be in the reports given."

Medea re-read the reports. After considering the words for a minute or two, something clicked. She realized that the "Noviet" was Shizuka. "Why would they want to get rid of her?" she wondered aloud.

Cadillac-Gage

30-04-2005, 08:45

Originally Posted by Vastiva
The Captain departs.

An hour or so later – hard to tell time without a clock – the Ship’s Doctor arrives with a spray hypo.

“Hello, Sharon, I’m Doctor Ghavami. We contacted the lab, and verified your story, then had a conversation with the pharmacy in Cadillac-Gage. While this vessel doesn’t carry prozinal, we do have a selection of chemically similar medications. I’ve mixed up a version according to the formulation from Cadillac-Gage and added a tranquilizer and mood-stabilizer series, all of it time release. Hold out your arm please?”

Psssht!

“There, that didn’t hurt, did it? I’ll see you again in twelve hours.”

A few minutes later, a crewman arrives with a flat flexi-screen, the same sort Zukie read in the shower with. “We recorded the last week worth of broadcast, so you’ll be able to watch pretty much whatever you want, if you don’t mind reruns. Sorry, no remote, but you can set the controls to respond to quick movements. It also plays music and displays text – just run the menu.”

He leaves it playing on a light classical channel. “Supper will be soon, do you have a preference? Doc said you have to eat something.”

Sharon stared at the 'screen', and said, "Whatever the crew's having is fine..." She was instantly fascinated by the portable screen-device, not so much its content, but how it works. As in, 'the mechanism itself'.
She started digging through the content looking for technical manuals, even grade-school level information.

The Voltarum

30-04-2005, 18:13

"Thank you," said Neira as she took the set and placed in on the bed between herself and Ka'tal. Her opponent was still staring off, regarding every woman who came within her senses. Neira used this distraction to claim the ivory pieces.

They played for awhile, as Neira took an early lead due to Ka'tal's preoccupation. Even on a good day I can't beat her, Neira thought.

"You know Ka't, isn't it interesting how such a simple game of chess can imitate real life?"

Ka't started to listen. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, for one, how the pieces move.. the infinite vs the finite. Take the pawn, the one that represents the common soldier. It can move two spaces at first, almost as if charging into battle, but its motion is then limited, always forward, it's purpose very plain - protection and sacrifice. It has a finite move, one space at a time." She paused to take Ka'tal's rook.

"And then you have the other pieces... the rook, representing the fortification and the straight approach to defense, the bishop, representing religion and its angled way of things, and the Queen, representing the government and its all powerful combination, all which have the ability to move infinite spaces, almost representing the idea that they could move off the limited two-dimensional board... their meaning, even purpose, is more important, more lasting, even replacable by one lucky pawn...."

Ka'tal sat and listened. She marveled much at the young girl's mind and had enjoyed the countlesss discussions they have had over the last few years.

"Very true and very thought provoking my lady. But I see a different metaphor... one that may be more telling given our current situation." Ka'tal picks up her queen, and takes Neira's bishop. "Let me ask you, do you consider the game of chess to be favored to one sex or the other?"

"What do you mean, Ka't? ...Outside of the Voltarum, maybe... it is viewed more as a measure of intellect, and more men play it."

"True. But let me ask you this. What is the most powerful piece on the board?"

"The queen, of course."

"Right. And the weakest?"

Neira was failing to see the point of this. She moved her rook. "The King. And that is check, by the way."

"Yes, the King, limited to the sphere of one space around him, almost a very limited queen, if you take it that way, dependent on the others to protect him. Now, as we know, if a pawn makes it to the other end of the board, it has the option to become any other piece..." Ka'tal's bishop blocks the check.

"Except the king of course. You can only have one king." Where did that bishop come from. Damn it, I can't even get an advantage when she isn't paying attention...

"Right, except the king. Now, given chess is a very old game, and the fact that a sex-change, albeit even in this metaphoric sense, was unheard of, that means if a pawn can change into a queen, the pawn must be a woman."
She pauses, and moves a rook. "Check."

"Sex change? Well I guess, but we are talking about a game." She sacrifices a pawn to save her king.

"Yes, but you yourself said it is full of metaphors. Anyway, if the pawn is a woman, it can only stay a woman, meaning the only male piece on the board is the King. The pitiful, helpless male, in need of all these women to keep it safe.... Check.... But you may ask yourself, why play the game? Why capture the other king?"

"I suppose.. in this very strange thinking... for, uh, reproduction?" Neira laughed.

"Very good. Rather amazonian, but it fits. The expansion of their power. All these women, protecting a King who has no real power and is helpless if he is deserted. You would think, that someone like that would want to surround himself with as much protection as possible...."

She moves her queen. Neira flinched. How does she do it.. I am dead in less than 3 more moves... "So what you are saying, this is modeling our our current situation?" She pounds down her knight, now helpless in the game.

Ka'tal counters with a bishop. "Just that the game is just that, and you never know who you are playing, or what they are playing for. Are they here to protect the king, or conquer him? Are they pawns and easily disposed of, or are they knights, who can move in two directions at once and ignore any obstacle to reach thier goal." Queen moved. Ka'tal gave a saddened smile. "My lady, I am afraid that is checkmate."

Neira frowned. "Well, Ka't if what you say is true, I need more practice it seems. Because right now, I feel like a trapped pawn who hasn't seen her king in quite some time... one who despertly wants to reach the other side."

"Do not worry... the queen, and what seems to be her knight and bishop," she motions to Medea, the guard, and cloaked women now questioning Engred, "will show us what kind of game we are in soon, I think."

She turns. "One more game, my lady. And I will even let you be white again."

OOC: Yes, some of those metaphors are borrowed. =)

Vastiva

30-04-2005, 22:25

In the city of St.Joan(named after Joan Of Arc by French speakers),a military parade began in full splendour. Helen was waiting at the airport for the Vastivan plane to pick her up to take her to the Harem. ''I hope the Harem is fun.'' Helen said happily. The Byzantine Rifle Infantry formed a line beside Helen and fired gun salutes. ''Long Live Roman Greece!'' the people yelled.

OOC-Now you can pick her up.

"Shivash! Are they shooting at us?"
"No... I think it's a rifle salute. Look, they hit two birds."
"They're using live ammunition in a rifle salute?"
"Heh... Gotcha."

The 74SL taxied and took off slowly, giving a much more elegant departure then usual.

A red-uniformed stewardess smiled at Helen. "Would you care for something for your trip, honey?"

Cadillac-Gage

01-05-2005, 05:54

“What she says about what she witnessed, she believes, though she has exaggerated in a few places in a sarcastic form.” Sadiqah’s voice comes from under the hood, though her gaze is now on Engred. “It is also most of her back that has been burned. She believes what she says.”

Engred winced, "alright, alright, I got more than a spot on me...but there were zero security people in the pool when they broke out the Polar-Bear stingers and started the fight-which went long enough for me to cross from where I was trying to read, to poolside-about three or four hundered paces in a zig-zag. I had time to lever my hands under my skirt like so..." she demonstrated, "Tearing the buttons off, step out, jump into the water, and pull a panicky and mortally-frightened girl over to where someone had been nice enough to position a line-probably right after I jumped in, since I didn't see it beforehand-at least, consciously." She tabbed it up. "About five minutes had been and gone by the time she was out of the water. Another two for me to lever my clumsy self out, and probably four or five more helping clear the injured out, then the second stinger went off, and gave me a back-bath I didn't notice until it soaked through my wet jacket and blouse..." she thought hard for a moment, Who is this?!? Just as loud, and hard as she could without changing her expression.
The chill feeling flickered for a moment, and Engred thought she saw the hooded one almost flinch.
Okay, as long as it's not the meat-shield... the cold, 'digging fingers' feeling intensified for a moment, then slowed back down.
Dammit, I answered your question, you're scanning my surface thoughts, you know I'm telling the truth-what are you still doing in here?

"Anyway, Medea, I'm really kinda bushed, if that's all..?" Engred asked. To tell the truth, she was very tired, and sore. The swim, then the foam, had taken a lot of her energy.

Krioval

01-05-2005, 06:15

"Anyway, Medea, I'm really kinda bushed, if that's all..?" Engred asked. To tell the truth, she was very tired, and sore. The swim, then the foam, had taken a lot of her energy.

"I bet. Sounds like you were quite the force to be reckoned with. Anyway, rest and recover. We can talk later."

Medea turned to Shama again. "Is it normal for these rooms to be without security when there are elements within designed to cause disruption, or was this merely an oversight?"

Vastiva

01-05-2005, 06:24

"Design. The elements themselves provide security, and are instructed to handle difficulties, with certain words and phrases to be spoken to the Harem slaves as necessary to remove those who are... found undesirable.

"We found the general inaction to be troubling, until it became clear one of the... troublemakers had used these very phrases to 'wave off' any sort of immediate response from those inside. This was cause for delay, though not as much as the bandaged one infers."

Krioval

01-05-2005, 06:49

"In that case, who exactly would have the authority to command soldiers to create such a dramatic disturbance?"

Vastiva

01-05-2005, 07:04

"It isn't done."

For the first time, there is a pause.

"Such an order would have to come through military channels, or from someone with access to such channels, by some means. A command of that nature would have to come from a rather strong authority. Particularly as assassination of that sort has not been a factor in centuries."

Krioval

01-05-2005, 07:13

"Such an order would have to come through military channels, or from someone with access to such channels, by some means. A command of that nature would have to come from a rather strong authority. Particularly as assassination of that sort has not been a factor in centuries."

"So, in essence, someone high up in this country's military has plotted to carry out an assassination." It was not a question. "I believe that Vastiva would like to be assured of the safety of its guests, and to know of this person's identity as quickly as possible."

Vastiva

01-05-2005, 07:17

"Your proposal of method?" Kadin Captain Shama's glacial mood has returned. "Our authority ends at that door, you would have to go through Palace Security or the like. From last rumor, however, you are not so... popular there?"

Krioval

01-05-2005, 07:24

"Perhaps not. Though I'm sure Vastiva would be most interested to know that one of his commanded are acting...outside proper boundaries. Well, if the worry is that I should not pass through that door, I suppose a representative of Palace Security can be brought to me."

Vastiva

01-05-2005, 07:42

"Of course, if you wish, and you need our protection, such can be arranged. I believe the Guard-Captain is unavailable at the moment, though his Giap should be available. Do you wish him in person, or through your M-TCOD?"

The Kadin Captain looks at the small group of witnesses they are talking in front of and closes her eyes slowly. Something is muttered, and she reopens them.

Krioval

01-05-2005, 07:46

If she weren't dealing with political intrigue and potential assassins, Medea would have been revelling in the power she currently held. As it was, she allowed herself the slightest feeling of exhiliration and then promptly refocused. "As you mentioned, the last time I was there, I nearly met with *misfortune*. I would prefer a personal escort, if possible."

Cadillac-Gage

01-05-2005, 07:47

Submarine side...

In the course of her digging for information on the flexiscreen, Sharon came across a media image of Engred arriving in Vastiva, and stopped for a moment, considering.

<Language?>
"Englische, thankee, Mur'kin Dialec" she told the system.

Oddly enough*, the Native language of Cadillac-Gage's second-poorest Canton(Phlynt) scrolled in runic lettering. Even with five years of living at Todos Santos, Sharon still did her best speed-reading in the thousand-year-old dialect she learned from the cradle.

She scanned the report, notiing the names of the other candidates in the picture (taken somewhere with brick facings), but the picture drew her back for a moment.

Engred's hands were wrapped in bandages.

Sharon let out strangled yell, and squeezed the flexiscreen hard enough to distort the image momentarily.

Trowatred, she Got hurt! Sharon hated it when one of Magritte's 'bad feelings' turned out to be true.

"Rads..." she checked, but found no reference to the how behind her friend's injury.

the system 'beeped' at her, and she was distracted again, looking for more information on how the device had been constructed-and more importantly, for Sharon, how it might be copied using the tools available back home...

deep inside her subconscious, Sharon's 'other self' worked on answering the question of why Magritte thought Engred was in some kind of terrible danger, adding the bandaged hands to the list of evidence, patiently.

[*Most people in Cadillac-Gage seem to operate on the assumption that if they don't know much about the outside world, the Outside world likely doesn't care to know much about them... Phlynt Canton is one of the areas of Cadillac-Gage foreign merchants and agents have found easiest to deal in, mainly because of this assumed mutual-ignorance. Vastiva has Lots of information on the Phlynt region, including languages, customs, habits, and economic output figures.]

Vastiva

01-05-2005, 07:54

"If I may?" The Kadin Captain's gloved hand pulls her M-TCOD from her belt. She toys with the controls for a moment.

"Giap Guard-Captain Richelieu appears to be currently asleep... according to the message left, he is at the Guard Barracks on this level. If you wish, he can be summoned here, or you can go there, or you can talk to him on your M-TCOD. Ah, I appear to have woken him...."

Medea's M-TCOD gives a *chirp* as Shama presses more keys.

"Yes, Kadin Captain?"
"It would appear your... statements, at the very least, are required. If you would attend?"

Shama nods towards Medea's M-TCOD.

OOC: See OOC

Vastiva

01-05-2005, 08:42

Medea got the hint and turned on her M-TCOD; the screen lit up to an image of a middle aged man with tousled “bed hair” of jet black, an equally uncombed beard, and bright blue eyes.

“Yes, Dalai?”
“Giap Captain, is there any chance anything like the events in the Harem today could happen to the Sultan?”
“No, Dalai.”
Shama *coughs* “If I may, today’s events were allowed to occur because they were mostly in line with what we expected to happen. It was a use of our own defenses against us. This shall not happen again.”
Richelieu gives a smirk on screen. “The Palace Guard has no such holes in its defenses. Our Sultan is quite safe. Already, there are additional guards and patrols.”
“I see.” Medea nodded. “And how can I get a copy of who issued the orders to those who did this?”
“What?”
Shama grrrs and presses a key. Richelieu gives a quick scan of the screen before him. “Such documentation would be available at the military base it came from, or from general transmission records. As they are colonial and not local, it would mean that database would have to be accessed.”
“And,” adds Shama, now speaking directly to Medea, “as that database is colonial, and has been accessed, I can say with certainty such records have… gone missing? Quite irregular indeed. One would believe such an elimination of data to be planned out in advance."

The Voltarum

01-05-2005, 14:33

Jertika Malin stared at her computer screen. 1 more minute, and its mine! This is killing me!!

The clock on the screen ticked down... now under 10 seconds. Jertika stood up from her desk and raised her hands in victory. I have it!! The screen beeped, and it changed to show her a congratuatory message:

Congratulations, VoltaruShop customer! Item number 12817342
has been secured and your credit card has been charged for §42,196. Seller
should ship your item(s) to you within 2 working days. If you have
any issues, please call or email our customer service department.

With respect,
VoltaruShop Inc. Management

The picture of the item she bought was underneath the letter. She couldn't believe it... a signed copy of Lady Neira's Vastivian trading card. "And it even looks real!" she screamed.

***
Voltaru Commerce Building, Ohm

Xanaphia Jassan sat at her desk, as her secretary Gretchen came in.

"Minister, the papers are drawn up for the lowering of the price of cheese exports. All it requires is your signature and the ratification of the High Order."

"Hrm... good. So no problems then?"

"You mean beside the protesting dairy farmers? They are still out there you know. They know this will lower their value, and their salary."

"A small price to pay... besides, they need not worry, we cannot quite make a decision right now... we need a little more time. Put the bill in my queue... and make sure it stays there for awhile."

"Yes ma'am. Is there anything else?"

"No I need to make a phone call. Please do not disturb me."

***

The phone rang. The man picked it up. "Guy Smiley!"

His demeanor instantly changed when he heard who was on the other line. Al listened as he sipped on a herring milkshake.

"Yes minister... yes I understand... oh thats horrible, but I don't think... of course I value my position.... but I don't think that is possible... its the home of the Sultan, they aren't exactly going to let me... fine.... yes, I said it will happen.. thank you minister."

He hung up the phone. Guy turned to Al. "The Minister has told me the hysteria over Neira back home is getting high, and the most demand is for an authentic signed copy of one of her damned cards. She wants me to get 10 signed, and send them back to her."

Al spoke, bits of herring in his mustache. "But that means you will have to get the cards to the Vektori girl. That is going to be tough."

"Maybe, I will try the easy approach first - mail....the Minister has given me something that may aid us in this. Lets go, we have to secure 10 of her cards."

Four hours later, an envelope was sent to the Sultan's palace, marked to "The Eyes of Candidiate Neira Vektori," and some sort of official seal. It is much thicker than 10 cards.

Roman Greece

01-05-2005, 19:50

"Shivash! Are they shooting at us?"
"No... I think it's a rifle salute. Look, they hit two birds."
"They're using live ammunition in a rifle salute?"
"Heh... Gotcha."

The 74SL taxied and took off slowly, giving a much more elegant departure then usual.

A red-uniformed stewardess smiled at Helen. "Would you care for something for your trip, honey?"

''No,I don't require anything.'' Helen said. As she went on the plane,The Byzantine Rifle Infantry then marched in a line back to the Palace but still shouting patriotic chants while citizens prayed that Helen would be safe in Vastiva. ''How long till we are in Vastiva?'' Helen asked.

OOC-Sorry for being gone so long. My damn internet was not working and I had to fix it.

Krioval

01-05-2005, 20:25

Medea mused aloud. "Well, then. We are dealing either with espionage or domestic subversion. And given the security that this nation has, it is looking unfortunately like the latter. So the question becomes - who would dare oppose Vastiva by killing one in his hospitality?"

Vastiva

02-05-2005, 08:10

"That indeed would be the question. Perhaps you should ask their target, or targets, as the case may be?"

Vastiva

02-05-2005, 08:18

"Or perhaps" comes a voice from under the hood, "you could remove those who are not supposed to be here long term to another site, if they were not involved, which would give a better idea of who remains? It would appear things are not as... cluttered as they seem.

"As to whom, a reasonably good plan would include blinding those involved, as seems to be the case. They know what they were told to do, but not by whom. This assumes you have all those involved, which would mean more questioning of those who witnessed."

Krioval

02-05-2005, 08:21

Medea simply said, "Sadira it is. Let's go." She, the guards, and Sadiquh made their way to the woman. "Tell me why it is that they attacked you," Medea said gently, yet with a tone of finality. She just wanted this to end without anyone else being killed. Getting back to bed would be another big plus.

Scandavian States

02-05-2005, 15:06

Sadira laughed bitterly, "That's like asking me what the meaning to life is, I know neither. I even went so far as to warn them, after the girl went into the pool, that if they did not cease their attacks so that I might retrieve my ward, that I was prepared to use any force necessary so that I might save the one I have sworn to protect. Up until they pressed their attack a second time, and armed at that, I was positive that they were a part of the harem and that they would value their friends more."

Cadillac-Gage

02-05-2005, 21:03

Engred waited until Medea and the Strega were gone, then rolled back onto her stomach and let a low growl into the mattress. at this rate, I'm going to be a damn invalid! she hated not-having her hands as 'useful', she also hated having to rely on Harem-Staff to get dressed, undressed, and needing to be hand-fed, like a toddler, because her fingers didn't work in the gloves.
The burns just made it worse, because she really only had two options that didn't hurt-lay on her belly, or stand up.
Well, they said the irritation won't last much longer than a day or so back there... she stared at the floor at the end of the bed, but I still don't have any fingers until my hands heal. She had one comfort, though-the Strega's icy fingers weren't in her mind anymore.

"Isn't this fun?" she mumbled the comment at Zukie and Kera-Light's general direction, "You know, we're going to laugh about this when it's over." She managed a weak half-grin, sighed, and closed her eyes. Maybe if I sleep it off, I'll wake up feeling better...

Findhorn

03-05-2005, 03:50

Her spirit reached out to the Goddess Herself; her mind began the automatic patterns of prayer, the gentle calling to mind of all those who loved and were loved ...

It was almost as if her prayers were bouncing back at her. Myfanwy would think of a person and her mind would supply a picture, but she wouldn't feel the ... well, she'd feel that she was thinking about a picture, not a person. No warmth, no memories; emotionally flat.

Perhaps I'm tired. Or jetlagged. This had never happened before when she travelled; but then, she had never travelled so far before. Puzzled but not alarmed, Myfanwy went back to basics. The Goddess is always there. And it was so.

How long she spent in that understanding embrace Myfanwy didn't know. The scene in the pillar hadn't changed noticeably, but inside the Harem, people were moving with less alarm. A guard, a woman and a strange figure in red-and-black clustered together -- Myfanwy felt her eyes slide away from the mystery person and had to deliberately re-focus to see her. Magic? Now there was a thought she wouldn't have had before she met that strange pair from Ardcholle ...

The authority-types seemed to have been chatting to the woman with the bandaged hands, but she had turned away now. Myfanwy moved towards her, then saw that the other was plainly trying to go to sleep.

Me, I'd like to go to lunch. Or dinner, or breakfast, or whatever it was. She thought back longingly to the meal with the Herald yesterday. One of those dishes had been really, really good; what was its name, now?

Well, that, at least, was something she could find out. Her mind watering as much as her mouth, Myfanwy set off to see how much access she could get to the (presumably large) Vastivan store of knowledge.

Twenty minutes later her mind was not so much sated as stuffed, and she'd forgotten entirely about her stomach. Her search for typical foods had led to an explosion of information: Vastivans apparently loved writing and reading about food almost as much as they enjoyed eating it.

To her horror, she'd also learned how significant it was to eat in someone's company. Nivia's pleasant little soothe-the-foreigner meal yesterday had been so much more than that. Goddess, she might just as well have adopted me!

I wonder if I could invite her to join me here for a meal? Or I could send her a gift, maybe; I could make her a tussy-mussy -- yes, but I need a lot more herbs if I'm going to do that -- her mind swirling with plans, queries and undigested information, Myfanwy hurried back to her bed and scrabbled in her backpack for pen and paper: lists, lists, lists!

You're just like your mother! came the thought in Mother Mirrim's fond, remembered voice; and Myfanwy felt a surge of longing for her, and even for scatty Glennys, with her paper-trail of unconsulted lists.

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