Empire 8: Arkhive Banquet

[Lumaeus]

🐝A.P.I.S. Presents🐝
The First Hexenniel Conference for the Liberation of Knowledge and Fostering of Growth in Sansar

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I did a lot of things here, friendos, so I'm spoilering the bits with what's in them. The important one, gamewise, is the Charter, really. It's how you get stuff from me. The other stuff is for rp and interactions tho. Which is kinda the fun part. I wish I could space posting things out, but if it's not all up at once, something will come up for someone meaning they miss the one thing they would most enjoy, yknow?

Sub-Action: Grant all attendees my Xenolinguistic starting tech!

Spoiler: Reflection on origins of event

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Queen Constance of Comment the First has been planning the first convention of the Arkhival Patronage Interregional Summit for longer than she's been alive. Or, rather, previous Queens had conceived the idea, and so upon their mellification it had passed into the Hive-mind. It was from these ancestral memories, transmitted to her first in Royal Jelly and revealed more and more in her daily Honeyed Words that Constance had discovered and perfected the plan. And the time had never been more ripe.

The Emperor had elevated the Arkhive to the interplanetary stage, but in the same sweeping largesse had empowered what seemed at first blush to be somewhat less research-motivated polities. Alone, the Arkhive was a helpless target, but by weaving a wider web of alliance and interdependence, perhaps other powers would guard it. And so it came to pass that Arkhival Patronage Interregional Summit was conceived.

Spoiler: The setting

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At the order of her Arkhival Majesty, long tables, single pieces carved from the frozen stone of the frigid isle outside of the Arkhive, have been placed in the shade of the four great trees which mark Coedd's blessing. Here, in the sacred park in the heart of the Royal Face of the vault's hexagon, the ancient bounties of the planet have been richly laid out for visitors. Long forgotten fruits and vegetables pile high, looking like a feast straight outta Redwall. Tomatoes the size of a human head, purple with flavor; parsnips the size of daikon radishes and tasting like dirt-but-in-that-good-way-that-root-vegetables-are-all-kinda-soily recline fibrously; cabbages with such intricate leafwork that they might look decorative if they weren't so delicious; and many apple varietals lost to the world, including Empire apples which are simply the best, all are up for grabs. Every visitor is encouraged as well to consult with an elderly Technician named MacDonald from 630, who once had a farm and now would gladly share cuttings and tips with those who hope to bring back forgotten plants to the world above.

Bees buzz lazily all around, keeping a respectful distance from all visitors, but charging the air with dynamism. Their blessings are on rich display, from the ample tureens of honey on every table to the mead which flows like water. There's also water. And let's throw in non-alcoholic mead, since we're being friendly. All the utensils are wax and honeycomb. In its unspecifically long don't worry about it history, the Arkhive has managed to master tempering and treating these precious materials to give them surprising strength. They sure ain't sturdy, but they serve and are technically edible. Don't eat them. You can. It's not great. Try it out. You can spit it out if you want, we won't judge.

Spoiler: The Queen's Speech

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As the assembled assemble into one great assembly, Her Arkhival Majesty. Queen Constance of Comment the First, stands before everyone.
"Honored guests, co-planetaries, visiting dignitaries from honored polities across the star-system, functionaries of the Emperor of Ophon, ineffable plant-goddess of Dewlad--whatever title each of you bears, we hope through this conference, first of many, to subsume that honorific into the greatest we know: friend. We welcome you to our humble Arkhive and invite you after this banquet to explore our twelve Faces, to browse our research, to consult with our experts. Your lodging is provided for and all that we have to offer is yours. Unless you visit Milk & Honey, the local houses of worship cսm tea shops which are legally distinct from the Arkhive and whose anti-union activities we neither sanction nor have the means to oppose. Whether it be for the conference, the season, or indefinitely, please feel welcome to walk our halls as no less than one of us.

"[THIS PART OF THE SPEECH WOULD RECOGNIZE VISITING DIGNITARIES AND ANY GIFTS BROUGHT ETC. SO PRETEND YOU'RE MENTIONED HERE. I HOPE TO EDIT IT IN BUT THE NATURE OF A FORUM GAME IS SUCH THAT I HAVE TO KINDA ASYCHRONICIZATIFY IT A LITTLE FORGIVE ME I LOVE YOU ALL]

"The occasion of our banquet is one of opening, one of joining the Arkhive to the good labors of all lands, in hope of joint advancement in an era of new gains for all mortal creatures--and for the immortals above us," she nods towards whatever the heck kinda manifestation Coedd has (the trees themselves, maybe?). "The Arkhive will open its secrets and its resources to the system--and even more than that, as you will see. After we've eaten, of course. Fear not, I know something of hunger. Only one last prelude: would anyone else speak to those gathered, and hold our food hostage from us just a little longer?" The Queen laughs, clearly in good humor.

Room is given for other speeches if anyone desires, and plenty of time will be available at and after dinner for general socializing. Any race with particular food needs do have their diets well met, and dessert is a truly magnificent treat: beyond the honeyed sweets, each official dignitary is allowed a thimbleful of Royal Jelly, a direct window into past memory and a panacea that in sufficient quantities can freeze even the ravages of time. Go wild with any descriptions you want if you use it for anything--it's magic nonsense.

Spoiler: Brass Tacks: The Charter and Patronage

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As dinner is cleared away, after the park has eased into a pleasantly fatted repose, the Queen excuses herself from the latest table she's found the excuse to chat with and begins her final speech.

"I forecasted that the resources of the Arkhive would be open to you, and that is the case. Our knowledge is for all. Our treasures, as we accrue them, will be, at least initially, for those near us. Our services," and here the Queen smiles with the pleasure of one last moment of holding onto a gift for a friend, "Will be awarded by the will of the Hive."

(tl;dr of what follows) Here, the Queen lays out the concept of Patronage, the system by which the Arkhive will dedicate much of its capacity in the service of other states. Those who pledge non-aggression towards the Arkhive will be protected always against unwanted action by it, and by this, the Queen fosters safety. However, whoever does the most for the Arkhive every six years will control half of the Arkhive's actions. I'm making an artifact to improve this as well. (Initially just) Sansarites also get to change the rules of the Arkhive in a big game of Nomic.

Spoiler: The Charter of the Arkhive Æternal

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Immutables
-Every odd round, the Arkhive will hold a Hexenniel Conference to select a Patron, determined by the Points System (see below).
-There are two tiers of Membership: Local Members (for residents of Sansar) and Visiting Members (for everyone else).
-Should a Visiting Member be awarded Patronage OR complete and maintain a Hive (5-action GP), they will permanently be considered Local, so long as they retain Membership.
-Members' holdings shall be held as inviolable to the Library, subject to no interference.
-The Arkhive's holdings shall be held as inviolable to Members, subject to no interference.
-The Arkhive shall devote half of its capacity in service of its Patron (2 actions on odd round, 3 on evens).
-The Arkhive cannot use Military actions nor maintain a standing army (but we're ignoring the unit we start with because it'd be a hassle to deal with--we rebuke the fiction and substitute our own!).
-The Arkhive is a place of refuge; anyone swearing themselves to scholarship is welcome in its walls, regardless of their past.
-The Arkhive is subject always to public oversight; it will never take a secret action
-The Arkhive reserves all E5s and D5s that it may better distribute Trade Routes and Embassies, as well as its first F5 and F10. Additionally, should the Arkhive ever do that thing to get a new civ type and another action what's that called again I forgot, it reserves that one action as well--feel free to ask in advance about it if worried.


Mutables
-Research produced or acquired by the Arkhive (including techs) is to be freely disseminated to all Members without discrimination.
-Physical holdings (including artifacts) are to be loaned out for three years at a time to Local Members.
-Members of the Arkhive hold joint responsibility for recovering overdue and stolen items and holdings (including TPs and Supports*)
-Failure to return a borrowed item by its due date incurs a fine of two (2) Treasure. A further borrowing period overdue will result in revocation of Membership and extraction of reparations as determined appropriate by all remaining Members and the Librarians.
-At their sole discretion, the Queen can forgive fines and pardon misstep.
-The Arkhive accepts all donations.
-Trade Routes will be distributed freely among Members, preferencing Local Members and those offering more generous donations (points system).
-Cultural Exchanges will be distributed freely among Members, preferencing Local Members and those offering more generous donations (points system).
-At each Hexenniel Conference, the current Patron and the Queen may each submit a proposal to add, remove, or alter a single mutable point of this charter.
-Proposals to change the Charter are only confirmed by a 2/3rds majority of voting Local Members.

*I don't expect to have any interest in supports unless a hostile power takes the Arkhive's capital supports

Points System: (Note, this is crunch, but IC it's just the Will of the Bees. Not mutable or immutable, just an enumeration of how the Hive chooses to crown you.)
Provide our Desired Import: 2pts/round (available to every civ that does it, even if the need is already met)
Submit a piece of your culture's literature for Arkhival: 1pt (max 1/rd)
Submit a history for Arkhival: 1pt (max 1/rd)
Submit a theo/mythological or philosophical work for Arkhival: 1pt (max 1/rd)
Recover a lost item from the Arkhive's holdings (returning late items absolutely doesn't count, loophole nerdz): 10pts
Submit the results of an Investigation for Arkhival: 2pts
Submit a technology not yet held by the Arkhive: 2pts for starting tech, 5pts for all others (simultaneous submissions are both rewarded)
Donate an Artifact to the Arkhive: 10pts
Donate Treasure to the Arkhive: 1pt/ea
Build a Hive (5-action GP, you may use the Arkhive's actions for this as Patron): 2pts/turn ongoing, Donor Status
Mechanical figure (or retired Ruler) joins the Arkhive: 3pts
Fluff piece describing influx of your people joining the Arkhive OR an individual described to be noteworthy (such as a great scholar) joining the Arkhive OR a scholar of the Arkhive joining your people: 1 pt (max 1/rd)

Points accrue until the end of a Conference. At the end of the round, the civ with the highest total is awarded the status of Patron. They return to 0 points. Second place is awarded five points to start the next round. Third receives four, fourth receives three, and so on. Ties for Patron are decided between the tied parties, and if they fail to come to an agreement, they roll off. All other ties will both receive the higher point total.

[Kythia]

On this occasion the “ambassador” from Coedd has taken a somewhat simplified version of their normal form. Imagine a birch tree that, when squinted at, looks like a person. That split trunk could be legs that branch there and the one on the other…no, the one next to it, yeah that one, they could be considered arms. And I guess that makes all that greenery green hair? Normally, Coedd goes to the trouble to craft a face, finding meat reacts to it better. As this avatar isn’t expected to be needed for long, though, only a half hearted attempt has been made. Squashed, malformed features that approximate grossly deformed facial features, sufficiently different from normal features as to not approach the uncanny valley. Again, likely as a result of the expected short life expectancy, this avatar cannot speak. While voice boxes are well within Coedd’s capability to grow, the accompanying need to bring in gas regularly, store it, release it in controlled bursts over the voice box etc and so forth mean that shorter term avatars normally rely on a translator.

Padraig Doine, in this case. In his original home of the Reserve he was likely considered scrawny, here amongst the librarians of the Arkhive he is one of the most physical. A fairly talented linguist he is too young to have been of the original translators of Coedd’s pheromone signalling but is one of the shining lights of this next generation who have grown up with the basics already worked out. He carries a portable chemical analyser on a loop round his neck and, when first encountered is stood between the walking tree - who has no visible expression - and a female member of the Imperial delegation who looks bored and nigh desperate for an escape:

“...really interesting you see. Because the speech is chemical traces, previous words and sentences hang around. So, like, while you or I might say something like ‘as I said earlier’ Coedd - that’s the name of their language as well as their, well, everything else - Coedd has this specific chemical marker that attaches to that previous chemical trail and highlights it. So its like if I wrote everything down and instead of saying ‘as I said earlier’ I just pointed at the thing I said…oh, OK, well, hopefully we can speak again soon.”

With an almost-certainly-fake excuse, she had made her escape.

[Epinephrine_Syn]

"Really?"
"Yes, we're here to learn about the outsiders. Especially you. Your education is important."
"And you think I'm not smart?"
"Why settle for merely smart?"
"..."


Laid down upon the docking bay, or lack thereof, came a ship. Something small and portable for the planet, but looking quite sleek and advanced. A few delegates came out, all looking human, the Moonmen were a half dozen strong and seeming utterly calm and charmed. At the center were two people in particular.

First, Serenity, the golden haired ruler of beauty, come to investigate in her formal dresses and gowns, shackled up with something pretty on every odd and end, tons of crystals that gleamed in the twilight.

Second, a small child who couldn't have been over five, walking upright and looking pouty, sporting a top hat and a formal set of rags as if she were out of a steampunk era. Somewhere between scrappy and fashionably crafted.

They have nothing to say, although the child abruptly breaks into childlike wonder at all the newest fads and people, rushing over to look at them even if not initiating conversation herself, with the larger Serenity in tow practically running afterwards and making sure that excitable girl doesn't cause mischief. One who you could never have guessed was pouting mere moments ago.

[Silent_Interim]

The Imperial delegation is... surprisingly understated. Three Courtiers attend, a High Lord and his two apprentices, a young woman looking terribly bored and a young man seeming sullen to the point of farce. All wear flowing green robes with gold embroidery around the edges, but where the High Lord makes this look comfortable and elegant, the two younger delegates seem uncomfortable in robes that seem not to quite fit.

The High Lord approaches Padraig Doine and claps his shoulder in a friendly, avuncular way. A warm smile splits his weathered, laugh-line creased face. "You will have to forgive my grand-daughter. If it isn't magic, she isn't interested. I have made something of a study of xenolinguistics, though. I'd be fascinated to hear your opinions as an expert in your field."

The young man and woman sulk both sulk in a corner, somehow contriving to convey through body language alone that although they are in the same corner, they are not sulking together. The effect is very teenage in a way that seems to show that both think it is very grown-up.

[Feathersnow]

《《Your Queen would see this for herself. She has traveled this far.》》

The Hammer, on her coppery golem palanquin, is carried to the feast, surrounded by a half dozen Workers and led by a Worker with the telltale hat of a Herald, carried by rotors. They do not sit, their prosthetics not equipped for it.

As the floor is opened, the Herald floats to the podium...

I speak for she who is called The Hammer: It is a joy and an honor to be invited to return to Sansar, and to be included in this convocation. The Glix people came from here long ago, and fled durance vile, but there are those amongst us who remember our roots. I hope this is the beginning of a long and prosperous relationship.


In the spirit of sharing, I offer these instructional Ikons that can indoctrinate the user in the art of Lepkashramov

Spoiler: OoC

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I gift all attendees Arcane Amplification. Anyone sharing in kind would be appreciated.

Afterwards, he flies back. The apparently vegetarian Arkhivists seem to have failed to account for the wholy carnivorous Glix inability to eat about half of the food made available, but they can digest the softer fruits, and the Workers dig in, while the Herald feeds The Hammer.

[Kythia]

"You will have to forgive my grand-daughter. If it isn't magic, she isn't interested. I have made something of a study of xenolinguistics, though. I'd be fascinated to hear your opinions as an expert in your field."

“High Lord!” A slight mournfulness at the girl leaving was overtaken by the excitement of an expert invited to talk about his field. “I’m sure I’d be honoured to explain. The first thing you have to realise is that the language isn’t like other languages. It’s more like an internal body communication. Your brain sends to signals to your hand” he clenches and unclenches his fist a couple of times to demonstrate “ - the Coedd language is basically derived from that. Internal, intrabody communication that we’ve learnt to translate and they’ve learnt to control. It really is fascinating. The other…”

He’s interrupted by a beeping from the analyser round his neck.

“OK, so let’s see. That’s…oh, you’ll like this.” He turns the box so the High Lord can see the readout. “See this string here” he taps four peaks, saying in turn: “Carbon. Oxygen. Ethanol. Paired deuterium. That’s where the name comes from, you see. See, Oh, Ee, two Dee’s. Coedd. It’s from the chemical string they use to…anyway let’s see. Acknowledgement-of situation…not-Coedd.. Right, so you have to understand you can’t really be formal in Coedd. Because it’s the equivalent of nerve signals - you can’t send a ‘formal’ or ‘informal’ message from your brain to your hand can you. Well, it’s the same. So all that’s really said is that Coedd acknowledges you are here. But, honestly, they rarely bother to acknowledge the existence of animal life so it probably is intended as respectful. As” he flushes and bows, a little deeper than protocol demands “do I. Apologies, High Lord, for my lack of formality. Here at the Arkhive we value knowledge and sometimes forget other things are important.

[Silent_Interim]

The High Lord chuckles. "Please, no need to stand on ceremony with me. Some of my colleagues prefer to keep rigidly to protocol, but you may call me Nasir." He pats the young librarian's shoulder again. "Convey for me, if you would, an acknowledgment in return. I must circulate, see and be seen, but I hope I will be able to hear more of this later."

[Volthawk]

Given that it was (on the same planet as the Reserve, anyway - thinking in that scale was taking some adjustment for many of the Dhaoine) the first major meeting of Elect members, Eilif Dhaoine takes the matter of the Hexenniel Conference quite seriously, and decides that a show of strength is the best way to go around it. With that in mind, the Dhaoine delegation numbers close to twenty, a dozen lannan accompanying a handful of sealga (seeming to be in two groups) and the single actual diplomatic representative of the country, Scorcha of Deargabh, the...well, some among the Dhaoine were calling her the heir to Eilif Dhaoine, but that wasn't quite accurate - while her father was the current man on top in the Reserve, nothing in the agremeents that bound the city-states that made up the alliance that was Eilif Dhaoine said that leadership would fall along family lines. However, it was also true that many of those who currently backed her father seemed likely to also back here, so she would be the likely candidate should Clagath fall in battle or have to step down.

Besides numbers the striking thing about the group is their attire, each made up in some part of chitincraft. It's most obvious for the lannan, of course, a force apparently entirely made up of humans (it's hard to tell under all that armour, but Reserve demographics show a large human majority) and wearing more or less uniform armour, covering their entire body and a little bulky-looking, with glossy black chitin from an ant-like making up most of the smooth surfaces of their armour and their helmets built to resemble an ant's head. Their main weapons appear to be firearms, with most of them carrying a fairly compact ballistic weapon, but each also carries a melee weapon on their belt, which look very much like they took half of an insect's mandible and stuck a handle on it (and then made it look a little more presentable, of course - to the Reserve's artisans, even the lannan deserved wargear that looked impressive) and that isn't particularly far from the truth. As the delegration enters, after a few moments in formation alongside Scorcha for the sake of first impressions, the lannan split up, with a pair taking up positions either side of the main entrance while four others split up and fan out across the park - after all, it was becoming increasingly clear that the Arkhive simply...didn't have much in the way of warriors or even guards, so the lannan take it upon themselves to keep an eye on proceedings. Of the remaining six, two move over to the sealga, splitting up to keep an eye on the two groups, while the remaining four, including the commander.

The commander himself, once he's satisfied listening to his team on the comms, experiments a little with some buttons on a bracer keypad before murmuring something back to them. If anyone at that point approaches and asks what the button pressing was all about, the answer from the leader of the lannan is quite mundane - it was just putting in the right settings so their armour's environmental controls brought things inside the suit to a comfortable state in this temperature (the system was built to deal with the need for heavier armour than would normally be sensible in a hot, humid jungle environment, but it turned out that it worked to keep you warm just as well). Not that they needed to do much here - even though they're in the frozen north of Sansar, the hives themselves seemed quite capable of making things pleasant indoors. Apart from that, he seems content staying with the table, sitting by Scorcha's side and mentally weighing up whether it'd be better to join in the meal or keep helmeted up, his indecision showing through a little despite the helmet.

The two groups of sealga, meanwhile, peel off pretty immediately after getting into the park, wandering about as the whim strikes them. Their attire is a little more...ecclectic than the lannan - some seem to be wearing their field gear, tough and hard-wearing with chitincraft clearly designed for practical use in key places, while others are takier a showier approach, with their chitincraft tending towards impressive trophies made from their individual kills or the clothing known in the Reserve sgia-loinn, glistening and shimmering coats made from many tiny linked chitin pieces taken from small bàscail with suitably irridescent bodies. Compared to the discipline shown by the lannan, the sealga are much more casual and irregular, but there's still obviously a pecking order there - if anyone's done their research on the Dhaoine, they might know that sealga have their own subculture and internal status, and if they had to had to guess, what they were looking at were two high-ranking sealga, each with a few hangers-on (whether out of respect, trying to share in their peer's glory, or some other reason). And the lannan assigned to babysit them, of course.

One of the two groups ends up gravitating towards the Glix, drawn towards the strangeness and a little entertained by the trouble they seem to be having with the food. Their leader, a tall woman dressed for the field, walks up to them and clears her throat. "Hey, if you're having trouble with that, I can help. Should have some meat back on the boat, nailed one of the swimming buggers on the way here. Wouldn't be hard to drag it down here and get some cuts for you." The two sealga following her stay a few steps back, not really sure what to make of the whole thing. The other group, meanwhile, simple beelines (pun unintended) for the tables laden with food and dig in, loudly talking and joking amongst themselves and complimenting the quality of the food while the lannan accompanying them somehow exudes expaseration despite his helmet hiding his face.

And then of course there's Scorcha herself, who has to handle the actual diplomacy of the occasion. Much like some of the sealga, she's dressed in sgia-loinn that takes on a glistening red in the light of the park's light, but unlike them she hasn't chosen to pair them with chitincraft trophies or weaponry. She listens to the Queen's speech respectfully, nodding when the Dhaoine are recognised, and when the opportunity is given to speak she follows up the Herald's speech with a short message of her own. "I am unsure how well the rest of you on Sansar have been able to get to know each other over the years that we on the Reserve were still isolated, but for us you are all quite new, and we know little about you all. I hope that we are able to rectify that in the coming years, and ensure that our people's respective ambitions do not cause undue conflict. Sansar is about to undergo a period of change, I'm sure we're all aware of this, but it is down to us how painful that change is. That is all." With that, she steps down again and goes to sample the full variety of what's on offer, before speaking with MacDonald in the hopes of acquiring as many of the plants on offer as possible, explaining that a large amount of the food eaten in the Reserve comes from arrays of vertical farms within their cities, and more variety will be well-recieved by her countrymen.

After the feast, once she's able to hear the explanation of the Patronage system and hear what the Queen is planning to do, she sits quietly for a few minutes, digesting the information and coming to a decision. "The system is agreeable to the Dhaoine. I'm willing to accept a non-agression agreement, and as far as contributions to your accumulated knowledge is concerned, I have a few ideas there as well. Are there any expectations that we should defend you, should some group or other - whether one of us here or an outsider - attack you? I couldn't help but notice a lack of much security here."

Spoiler: OOC

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Okay, so mechanically I'm doing three things here.

First of all, giving out In Vivo Modification to anyone who wants it, taking every tech offered, standard tech party stuff.

Secondly, I'm submitting A Sealga's Guide to Sansar for Arkhival as a piece of the Reserve's literature. It's not ready yet, but it's the thing I talked about in Sansar chat where I was writing up a continent by continent guide to who's who and what's what on Sansar, although I lost that draft so I'll be working from zero again - which actually works out for the best because I didn't start it intending for it to be an IC post (so I can be IC from the start now) and now we have the tables and know what areas are explored or not and I can work those into the piece. So yeah, fluff piece for Lumaeus' archives and hopefully a useful summary of how things look in Sansar from an in-universe perspective.

Thirdly, as Lumaeus said it was possible, I'l l submit whatever I end up doing for Mytho-Historical Data Gathering here as a historical piece. Haven't decided what it'll be yet, but probably some kind of monster story.

I might also do the influx of people thing, not sure yet. To some extent, it kinda makes sense that people would use their new freedom of movement to GTFO and leave the Reserve to go to safer places, and the Arkhive fits pretty well, but it's not a particularly strong thought yet. Stick a pin in it for now, but I figured it was worth mentioning as a possibility.

[Lumaeus]

A NOTE: Just to get it on the forum, yes. We accept fluff used for org stuff. You can double dip. Do it!

The Queen is abuzz with delight at her visitors, the keen mind pleased that all is going to plan pairing gladly with the gregarious host, flitting from table to table.

TO ALL, IN THE WAKE OF SCORCHA'S SPEECH
The Queen nods gravely at her guest's assessment.

"We do not enjoy the population nor the temperment to mount a large defense if any polity were to level their cannons against us. We would pray for intervention from our friends and reward it within our powers. We are not, however, without any might. The bees themselves are sensitive to the needs of the Hive, and while nothing in the face of an army, if a false delegation at a future conference were to attempt violence, I expect peace to be swiftly restored.

"Further, we have hope in a power beyond ourselves." Here, she nods towards Padraig Doine. "We have made increasing strides in communication with the being called Coedd. Some--including many tens of thousands in this very Hive--worship her as divine, but even a secular perspective will see her as a being of great power. Coedd is a panfloric being whose mind, as it were, and attention, as it were, stretches across great swathes of the planet and seems by our scholars to be waxing. We would gladly share our research on her, especially that of Garrick Mynqvist the five hundred eightieth. Very recently, her attentions have brought self-generating flower crowns and...interestingly detailed intelligence reports to those who pledge themselves to her. We do not stand alone.

"That is all to say, while we do not have the means to demand defense, we seek peace and offer our unflinching assistance to those who join us. And we remain confident that should a dark day come, we can count on your largesse. Shall we issue you a library card?"

MOONMEN
"You bless us with your attendance, Serenity! Your Highness, if you care to keep to popular convention, though you will forgive me for being uncertain of your local forms of address. Please forgive me; it is with a host's deference and with enormous respect that I am honored to meet in person one who has so well made those first impossible strides into a new and better future for a people rich in every virtue and beset by complications unknown by so many of us. I hope your journey was every inch the pleasure that befits one of your stature." Constance is a constant motion, clasping her hands warmly before her, inclining her head, never still. Only then does she look towards the child. "I'm afraid I do not recognize your young companion. Would you grace me with an introduction?"

IMPERIAL FOLKS
Queen Constance of Comment walks with the straightbacked dignity of monarchy towards the Imperial Delegation. She smiles warmly at the youths in their sulk, "It is a joy to have you. Let me know if you need anything." before offering Nasir what will be, if accepted, a sharp, firm handshake.

"Twice favored is great honor. That the Emperor has donated to us his engines brought a paradigmatic shift in the scale at which the Arkhive can operate, and that we now are graced with imperial functionaries proves truly that we are securely in his eye. You are of course welcome to anything you need here in the Arkhive, but..." she lowers her voice. "If your attendance is oriented towards business, I must confess that our financial position is entirely unclear. The bounty of our situation coupled with our relatively low population has meant financial bookkeeping has been allowed to slip in favor of a deeper focus on the scholarly understanding of bookkeeping in itself. I've placed our best mind, Jan the Ever-Ill, on the task, but it may be some years before we fully calculate our position, our debts owed, and determine our ability to pay. Taxes will be forthcoming, but no power in the Hive can bring them immediately. I hope that will not darken this visitation?"

GLIX
I see your post but I need to message and wait for a reply from another player. I would be amused if something worked out. All fluff, all friendly. Sorry for delay.

SCORCHA
Demi Perse, the six hundred thirty-first and fifty eight hundredths, is a teeny little woman about as thick as she is tall. Inexplicably always equipped with straw in her mouth, she thumbs her overall straps as she helps elderly Macdonald ready the cases of cuttings and seeds.

"I reckon y'all could use a little help coaxing summa these sprouts to grow. They ain't gonna like the change in climate, but they sure would have a fair shot if y'all had someone who knew them like old Mac here." She winks before saying. "I mean me. How's about you take me back with y'all and I'll help get these started? And maybe see about gettin' myself some of them fancy bugshells y'all're wearin'?"

[Silent_Interim]

Queen Constance of Comment walks with the straightbacked dignity of monarchy towards the Imperial Delegation. She smiles warmly at the youths in their sulk, "It is a joy to have you. Let me know if you need anything." before offering Nasir what will be, if accepted, a sharp, firm handshake.

"Twice favored is great honor. That the Emperor has donated to us his engines brought a paradigmatic shift in the scale at which the Arkhive can operate, and that we now are graced with imperial functionaries proves truly that we are securely in his eye. You are of course welcome to anything you need here in the Arkhive, but..." she lowers her voice. "If your attendance is oriented towards business, I must confess that our financial position is entirely unclear. The bounty of our situation coupled with our relatively low population has meant financial bookkeeping has been allowed to slip in favor of a deeper focus on the scholarly understanding of bookkeeping in itself. I've placed our best mind, Jan the Ever-Ill, on the task, but it may be some years before we fully calculate our position, our debts owed, and determine our ability to pay. Taxes will be forthcoming, but no power in the Hive can bring them immediately. I hope that will not darken this visitation?"

The High Lord returns the handshake, equally firm. "Please, if there is any honor to be had here, it is mine. Your work is a grand one, truly. But I am not here for anything so... vulgar. It is simply an opportunity for me to get to know the people I will be working with, in my career at the Imperial Embassy, and begin forming relationships to move forward from. And, well, I had hoped to socialize my grandchildren, but ah. Youth is such bitter fruit, no?"

[Lt-Murgen]

Senior Advisor Quinn Emery Kai Rene and 4 of their companions had made the long journey to the Arkhive Aeternal. They were not pleased with the assignment. Non-human species were temperamental at best, ultra-threat at worst. The Chairperson themselves briefed them on this particular mission. "Knowledge knows no provenance, information bears no taint". The refrain was drilled into them as when they took their Advisory Vows, and reinforced quite forcefully during the Interface. But they had to admit the initial impression was positive. Being one of the more voracious vegetarians in the dispatched subcommittee, their stomach could scarce contain its enthusiasm for the buffet.
They held hands with one of their sub-advisors for a few moments as they entered the hall. Biomesh interface allowed them to communicate the directive to secure cuttings and discuss aquaponic growth issues. The remainder were dispatched with similar contact-directives as the Senior Advisor made their way into the throng.

At the appropriate point in the Queen’s Speech
When it was their turn, the Senior Advisor approached. They were a tall, thin, bald-headed human. Dressed simply with a long ultra-black vest over a teal bodysuit. The sleeves had been removed, exposing more of their chestnut colored, luminescent tattoo-covered arms. Beneath the myriad of abstract and swirling markings one might discern the pulsing bio-mesh of their kind.

“I am Senior Advisor Quinn Emery Kai Rene, selected representative of Lucas Oliver James Mellus Tristan, Chairperson of the United Neural Networks Confounding Limitless Exigency. The Chairperson instructed me to express the gratitude of the entire Board and of our elected government. A new age is pushed its first tendrils out of the dust of the past. It will be for the wise and temperate to foster it to proper fruition.”

They paused and signaled to a sub-advisor. As their gift was brought over, they mused for a moment about the accuracy of the script-writer. Clearly, plant growth was a good metaphor for the bugs.

“We would be grateful if you would accept this modest device.” She indicated a faceted glass sphere, roughly the same diameter as the width of their torso. Inside, it pulsed and swirled with a kalidescope of colors, extending well into the infra-red and ultraviolet ranges.

“A simple construction, it utilizes sound pressure to create the colorful, ever-changing patterns. In such a unique environment as this, the harmonious buzzing will certainly empower endless display.”

Later,
Senior Advisor Quinn will confirm that U.N.N.C.L.E. will adopt a policy of neutrality towards the Arkhive. Perhaps, in the future, other joint ventures may be discussed.


Earlier than later,

The High Lord chuckles. "Please, no need to stand on ceremony with me. Some of my colleagues prefer to keep rigidly to protocol, but you may call me Nasir." He pats the young librarian's shoulder again. "Convey for me, if you would, an acknowledgment in return. I must circulate, see and be seen, but I hope I will be able to hear more of this later."

Quinn kept a polite distance between the High Lord and the tree-being. Animals, and now plants. It was getting hard to take the universe seriously. Still, the information around phermonic communication was interesting. As the high lord stepped away, they approached the librarian. “Please, do continue. Internal biochemical information transmission sounds fascinating. Our Bio-electric Mediators can manipulate chemical processes within the human body, so perhaps there is an application of our skill in communication here.”

Another later,

In the spirit of sharing, I offer these instructional Ikons that can indoctrinate the user in the art of Lepkashramov [/color]

At some point the Senior Advisor approached the Glix delegation. They kept their thoughts neutral, even though this was yet another non-human pod.
”Herald. U.N.N.C.L.E graciously accepts your offer of knowledge of your marvelous constructs. In some ways, they seem very similar to our bio-mesh. Both allow for manipulation of energies beyond what conventional science would seem to allow. At this time, however, we cannot share our version. It was developed specifically for our kind. Decades of simulations have not found a safe methodology for adaptation yet. Perhaps this is something our two species can work on in the future.

Spoiler

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OOC- I will be looking at a faith 5 to be able to adapt it to other species at some point

Another, another later:

And then of course there's Scorcha herself, who has to handle the actual diplomacy of the occasion. Much like some of the sealga, she's dressed in sgia-loinn that takes on a glistening red in the light of the park's light, but unlike them she hasn't chosen to pair them with chitincraft trophies or weaponry.

Senior Advisor Quinn approached Scorcha at some point during the event. []”Your delegation is quite impressive. I understand your people have faced the xeno-biological threats with great hardship. It is encouraging to see humanity overcoming and thriving. It is remarkable how similar our histories are. Our threats being more environmental than biological, of course. It is of great interest to our Board that your people claim to exhibit some minor magical powers. We Kinfolk have been developing ours for some time.”
The advisor closed her eyes for a moment and waved their hand. The din of the banquet faded from Scorcha’s ears. Quinn’s voice was now barely a whisper, yet Scorcha could hear it a clearly as if the Advisor was shouting. ”I have some skill in multiple 2-Body craft, but am most practiced with the Boyelian School. Sound is simply complex fluid pressure waves, after all. It is a matter of application to dampen their amplitude, or enhance a particular series of waves for greater clarity.” Quinn squeezed their hand and then gave a quick release with a loud crackling noise that started a few of the bee drones and sent them hurrying away.
”My apologies, but energy cannot be created or destroyed, so the equations had to be balanced.

“Perhaps this is something we can work on in the future. Currently, our technology is limited to implantation into humans at puberty. We have struggled to ensure proper interface to bloodlines we have not thoroughly mapped. Perhaps this is something our two human branches can work with in the future. Your generous gift of your in-vivo modification techniques will certainly speed the process.

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OOC- because our tech is wrapped up in our faith, they generally do not share. But I do plan on a faith5 organization of my religion next round. After that, if you allow a holy site conversion, I would gift it for free.

[Corona]

The Kanite delegation arrives, an orderly column of people in sober but nonetheless pretty dress. They wear metal-embroidered jackets and fur coats over puffy white shirts and corduroy trousers. The procession is centered around a palanquin carried by four people all the way up to the tables, from which a person, the current Priest of Ophon, descends. It is hard to make out any judgements of their age, sex and the like, as their body is almost buried in the many folds of alternating layers of blue and green fabric they are wearing, and they have a mesh veil over their face. They almost look like some sort of otherwordly deity levitating over the ground.

This impression is ruined somewhat when Priestess Zelena Tanchitsa (as she introduces herself) speaks in a weak, fairly high-pitched voice, and bids servants carry the ends of her dress and gifts. Tanchitsa bows to Queen Constance and presents to her the gifts: ancient books found in archaeological sites, tiny dumplings with salty sauces - a traditional dish of Kan, 3D models of Kanite spaceships and landmark buildings, most notably the helical DNA Tower, etc.
"Let the lights shine upon our nations' common path, O Queen. A true feast you have welcomed us with. I... I mean, the people of Kan are pleased to make your acquaintance. We shall repay your kindness with kindness, and do no harm to you. The gifts we've brought are but a fragment of our culture, there are literal mountains of these ancient baubles in Kan; we understand the Arkhive might be interested in that as a research- and preservation-based entity."

---

After she speaks with the Queen, Tanchitsa makes for the food, starved from the longest journey in her life. The Priestess of Ophon was not subject to rationing of any kind, but she is tired-starved. She wants to refresh her body and mind with the honey she could smell from the moment they moored at the dock. She eats in a complicated way, making sure she doesn't lift her veil by accident and that it appears like she is making the food disappear like a magician instead of consuming it like a normal person. Not to mention the servant who puts all the food on her plate instead of herself.

The priestess tries the Royal Jelly, which lifts her mood - visibly, despite the veil and all. She orders a purple pillow bearing a box made of a dark wood brought forth, and starts hollering for people to come closer and know their destiny. Her servants ensure that an orderly queue is formed toward the bench the Priestess is sitting on.

Captain Mech from the White Pawns, the highest ranking military commander on this mission, wearing a ceremonial uniform with many medals that announce her status, exchanges worried looks with subordinates and diplomatic staff standing around. The ambassador Ian Sladkor responds: "Eh, let her have it. She's doing what she is meant to do here, at any rate."
Cpt. Mech clicks her tongue. "Very well, but I'd hate for our country to be represented by this silliness. The nations of Sansar should know who the White Pawns are before we come knocking at their door in the service of another..."

[MappyPK]

A pair of Arkhivists pushes an ornately detailed metal cart into the front of the room. Atop it rests a large screen. At the top of the screen, a white and yellow logo reads "BUZZ: Video Calls and Tekhum-Wide Meetings." A tall Leopard gentleman dressed in fine Agbadan robes can be seen fiddling with his camera awkwardly. Static occurs from time to time.

"Is this thing on?" He mutes and unmutes himself repeatedly, before finally settling down and standing in front of the camera for the venue to see. The video quality is absolutely horrendous and static covers up almost every other word. Only the most intuitive could interpret this. Its even worse than watching YouTube on dial-up Internet.

"It is a pleasure to attend this conference on behalf of the God-King of House Kiniun. A conference in which we are glad to join fellow followers of Avva to trade information and ideals. It is our understanding that the Arkhivists themselves have acknowledged the God-King as a vessel of Avva over text-based communication, and we are pleased to celebrate this with you all. With their contributions to collecting information and dispersing the truth, you all will follow, I am sure. It worries me that so many of you have opted to travel through the vast darkness of space to attend this conference, but simply say the word and I will show you the light as to the dangers of space. May Ophon's eyes watch us all and have mercy."

[DKArthas]

Bedecked in an elaborate robe the color of the morning sky, the dark skinned leader of the republic felt strangely out of place in the festive atmosphere. A scepter of blackest iron shot through with streaks of red could be seen tightly clasped in his left hand, while close behind him stood a pair of guards, clad in black armor, with blue cloaks trailing behind. Crimson eyes stared out of an aging face, filled with guarded suspicion as they carefully studied the Coedd and the imperial delegation. The Fomorian had come to take a measure of all those present; it was not often you can get so many dignitaries and personages from sansar and beyond gathered in the same place after all. It was not an opportunity to be missed.

Old eyes flickered to others present in the hall, from the scholar-queen who had called this gathering to the mysterious Eilif Dhaoine known to live in the hellish jungles of the northern isles, eyes narrowing in keen interest at the strange chitin armor and than further beyond to others still. For now, Cathal Oirbsiu remained content to watch, observe and listen. The idea of taking part in some competition to win the favor of a monarch pricked his pride but pragmatism kept him from entirely dismissing the idea.

One did not become an old soldier and politician without understanding the necessity of such things after all. These were the days of great change, one that would call for some flexibility, if the republic were to emerge triumphant and secure in the face of the great trials ahead. Neither can anyone stand alone, without some trusted comrade to watch their back.

Moving to the well decorated table stacked with delicacies, Cathal decided to take part in the feast, sniffing at the purplish fruit in his hand before taking a bite, razor sharp teeths cutting through it akin to a knife through butter. Not bad he thought, surprised, Almost as good as meat.

[farothel]

When the message arrived, Duke Cinra Bafatis discussed things with his advisors and they decided that it was a good opportunity to get to know other Elects, even from other planets. As it was a conference with a more scientific take, it was decided that besides one of the advisors and his staff, to also send a few people from the university as well as some priest-psions. Using one of the newer trade ships, escorted by a just as new destroyers, they headed out to Sansar.

Arriving at the Banquet they greeted the other dignitaries and as they were invited to speak, the advisor, count Choraria, did so at the appropriate event.
"We have come from another planet to discuss matters that are of importance to the whole Empire," he said, "so all of our people can benefit from each other's knowledge.
As a sign of our goodwill, we have brought schematics and other plans for advanced fusion reactors. We can also provide limited technical assistance in training workers to maintain these installations. Please contact us later, after the banquet."

[Epinephrine_Syn]

"You bless us with your attendance, Serenity! Your Highness, if you care to keep to popular convention, though you will forgive me for being uncertain of your local forms of address. Please forgive me; it is with a host's deference and with enormous respect that I am honored to meet in person one who has so well made those first impossible strides into a new and better future for a people rich in every virtue and beset by complications unknown by so many of us. I hope your journey was every inch the pleasure that befits one of your stature." Constance is a constant motion, clasping her hands warmly before her, inclining her head, never still. Only then does she look towards the child. "I'm afraid I do not recognize your young companion. Would you grace me with an introduction?"

"Of course, it is a pleasure to finally be here myself. I've always admired your information collections that my friends have brought back and have good news on that front. I have catalogued some information of our own to submit. But first, yes, introductions. This is Titania, the girl who I am grooming to help lead our people into the stars."

She steps back, introducing the smaller girl with a half bow and arms outstretched. This girl meanwhile looks upwards at Constance, and proudly gives a curtsey.

"Greetings. You may call me I. It is a pleasure to be at your banquet. I'm especially curious about that dollop of jelly you've handed out."

The little girl seems enamored with all the limbs, watching them closely. Serenity however kneels down and puts a hand on her shoulder.

"Miss we've talked about this. That's not a name that's a sigil. It's not even one most outsiders can properly pronounce or understand. Is Titania a bad na-." "No it isn't, I really like it. ... And what should I call you, my new buggy friend?"

[SerakHawk]

The delegation from the Illumined Utopian find themselves among the giants. Their diplomatic craft landed in the spaceport, being large enough to host a few of the giants comfortably its size was not notably smaller than typical pleasure craft or civilian transports of the 'normal' sized humanoids. A Full detachment of Protectorate Guards exited the craft to obtain directions to the banquet and the details on which table the Illustrated Prime would be hosted at as they intended to launch aero-craft to send the delegate there.

At the table reserved for the Illustrated Prime a circle of Protectorate Guard line the edge of the banquet table with light sticks to draw attention to the boundary of 'Jy'mar' space so none of the Giants would unknowingly step or crush them underfoot. Illustrated Prime Marcus was seated at a table sized for him in the center of the banquet table with Jy'mar staff cutting and portioning the provided bounty of food out so the Illustrated Prime could partake.

Marcus was more than happy with the Queens address noting the Illumined Utopian's contribution regarding their psychiatric studies completed and methods to cope with crews being confined in small spaces as well as the Queen providing a more than bountiful feast for the Illumined Utopian delegation. Particularly the fine cuts of meats were of exquisite quality. Following the speech Marcus uses his amplifying device to respond regarding certain matters when she comes to visit.

"Queen, your speech is welcomed and your generous food lavished on your guests is magnificent - We may take a liking to it enough to set up some form of trade for the goods on a longer term basis; another year or so perhaps. I do have a question regarding this person of power - Coedd, we are not familiar with them as we follow paths of self-reflection and improvement, not looking to higher powers ourselves - would the people of the hive be open to hearing about our beliefs of self-fulfillment? Also with your request for peace, the Illumined Utopian are not ones to aggress on those similarly aligned, we are small - but we are many. I will take a library card - many thanks Queen of the Arkhive"

Spoiler: OOC

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The Illumined Utopian will gift A4 Aclaustrophobic Psychiatry to those present.
"Jy'mar Psychiatrist: We've found extra space in a hidden nest one can retreat to is extremely helpful in lowering stress. Make sure they get regular time on the fitness wheel and extra chew tacts to make sure their teeth are groomed. Communal grooming sessions are also recommended to ensure the welfare of your fur and create lasting bonds among your crew"

Submissions to the Arkhive are contained in my IC Post for Round 1

[Kythia]

Quinn kept a polite distance between the High Lord and the tree-being. Animals, and now plants. It was getting hard to take the universe seriously. Still, the information around phermonic communication was interesting. As the high lord stepped away, they approached the librarian. “Please, do continue. Internal biochemical information transmission sounds fascinating. Our Bio-electric Mediators can manipulate chemical processes within the human body, so perhaps there is an application of our skill in communication here.”

"No doubt..." he nods thoughtfully for a moment then more decisively. "Yes, no doubt. Clearly the actual chemicals involved are different but the general principles should be transferable, with a little effort. Although there's no focus on electric mediation of messages, of course..." he trails off again in thought for a moment.

"Apologies, I really am poor at standing on protocol today, I hope it doesn't reflect poorly on the Hive, only on myself. This" he gestures at the motionless tree beside him "is Coedd. This" he quickly and as surreptitiously as he can checks a datapad with a list of invitees " is Senior Advisor Quinn Emery Kai Rene of UNNCLE. I..."

He's cut off by a beep from the analyser and smiles apologetically at Quinn before muttering under his breath "not-Coedd, that beryllium marker will accentuate the meat-mind, so it's an open meat mind..." OK. Coedd believes that UNNCLE require things that will open their minds. Or possibly their skulls, I'm sorry things are a little unclear at times." As he finishes translating there's another beep.

"Coedd is all. Coedd is able" He translates rapidly, having seen that countless times then continues a little more hesitantly. "Coedd creates Coedd open-meat-mind. Oh, I see, Coedd can create plants that...open your mind?"

[moossabi]

Against the backdrop of the general throng of arrivals, an elegant private jet settles upon one of the Arkhive's landing pads, stylized to emulate the flair of an eagle's wings. The seal of the Fiorid dynasty rests emblazoned upon its hull, leaving no mistake as to the affiliation of its disembarking duo of dignitaries. The more eye-catching of the pair is the wheelchair-bound Hekla dei Fiori, more pitiable than imposing, clad in dignified attire but cloaking her legs in a plaid quilt to stave off the bitter cold surrounding the Arkhival oasis. Her pale hair rests cleanly above a morose visage, accentuated by albinist red eyes which seem to gaze through anything she focuses her attention on. The other, Hinrik dei Fiori, strides alongside his sister's chair without effort, a passively regal smile resting upon dignified features. Much of his appearance seems to parallel Hekla's, with red eyes and pale hair, though one cannot avoid giving his metallic right arm a cursory glance.

The Prime Theater
The two exchange pleasantries with the reception crew before settling into the rear end of the assembly. Hekla quietly takes notes on the various speakers and offers, but in all honesty the two have little true reason to be here beyond satisfying Hinrik's curiosity. So far the fruits and plants are aesthetically inferior to those of Verdalfheim, but neither sibling bothers to eat. The Queen's charter and overall demeanor intrigues Hinrik greatly on account of the potential for global cooperation, but the words of Scorcha of Deargabh are what truly attracts his interest.

Spoiler

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And then of course there's Scorcha herself, who has to handle the actual diplomacy of the occasion. Much like some of the sealga, she's dressed in sgia-loinn that takes on a glistening red in the light of the park's light, but unlike them she hasn't chosen to pair them with chitincraft trophies or weaponry. She listens to the Queen's speech respectfully, nodding when the Dhaoine are recognised, and when the opportunity is given to speak she follows up the Herald's speech with a short message of her own. "I am unsure how well the rest of you on Sansar have been able to get to know each other over the years that we on the Reserve were still isolated, but for us you are all quite new, and we know little about you all. I hope that we are able to rectify that in the coming years, and ensure that our people's respective ambitions do not cause undue conflict. Sansar is about to undergo a period of change, I'm sure we're all aware of this, but it is down to us how painful that change is. That is all." With that, she steps down again and goes to sample the full variety of what's on offer, before speaking with MacDonald in the hopes of acquiring as many of the plants on offer as possible, explaining that a large amount of the food eaten in the Reserve comes from arrays of vertical farms within their cities, and more variety will be well-recieved by her countrymen.

Some time after her speech, Hinrik makes his way over to her location and offers a hand to shake. "Pleasant tidings, milady. My name is Hinrik dei Fiori, second son of Prince Isak of Verdalfheim and acting on his behalf at this gathering." His overly formal tone could easily backfire, but misplaced flattery is a safer approach than blunt realism when dealing with new acquaintances. "Your words were true; rapid change is on the horizon, and I feel that we have much to discuss regarding the emergent world order."

Elsewhere
The quiet automated wheels of Hekla's wheelchair glide towards the fore of the room, where the Imperial High Lord has taken up position. Her ordinarily dour expression takes on a lighter tone, reframing the bags under her eyes as indicative of a great tiredness. Such an aged expression upon such a young woman; this must be the rumored immortality of the elven monarchy at work. "It's good to make your acquaintance, High Lord. I would bow, but..." She grimaces briefly, looking down. "...the sentiment is there, in any case. My name is Hekla dei Fiori, one of the dynasts of Verdalfheim. I must say, it has been an honor to our people that the Emperor would consider our principality among his roster of trustworthy vassals."

Spoiler: Character Visual Aids, produced in Heroforge

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Hekla and Hinrik, respectively

[Frostwander]

The delegation from Caipe Ushere arrives on a sleek hovercraft, built in a style reminiscent of the nautical of several centuries earlier, graceful curving hull and silver sides adorned with sweeping airsails alight with hundreds of interlocking geometric patterns that shift constantly in color and position as the ship steers into the harbor. The party that disembarks to attend the conference is lead by a single cavalier: a young woman in bright colored garb of multiple layers of shimmering cloth, bearing a glistening slender sabre at her side. Behind her strides the queen, followed by another dozen associated courtiers and functionaries. While the garish attire of the cavalier draws the eye, it serves mostly to bring attention by contrast to the tall woman behind her, whose clothes, while exquisite, lack any sort of color whatsoever.

Queen Chalise Merole Ebonne d'Laforét has stern angular features, a heavy brow and squared jaw that, perhaps twenty years ago might have generously been called 'handsome' by conventional standards. Her dress, all in black, is high-collared, with the pointed tip at the back nearly at the top of her crown. The lower end floats a few fingers above the ground, just revealing sensible boots beneath. She walks with a dignified pace and confident steps, bootheels clicking upon the floor of walkways, though less notably among the foliage of the park. Her eyes scan around the setting, taking in the hosts and attendees quickly, picking out individuals of interest and making note of the noteworthy.

Once their entrance is complete, the cavalier steps back to allow her majesty the lead of the delegation, remaining close over one shoulder throughout the event. The other courtiers remain on hand for providing details, translation, or making conversational or negotiation arrangements, but it is clear that to any approaching Queen Ebonne is the primary to contact.

At her introduction in Queen Constance's speech, she gives a polite nod of acknowledgement. Gifts for the hosts include several dozen bottles of the finest Usheret wine vintages of the last several decades, and individual bottles are also presented as gifts to the leading dignitaries of each visiting faction as well.

[Kythia]

Coedd apparently considers the conversation closed as it ponderously turns and moves towards the nearest member of the delegation from the reserve, paying no attention to any rank signifiers. Padraig, more sensitive (albeit barely) to the nuances of conversation smiles apologetically at Quinn. "I should..." he gestures after the slowly departing tree. "Please take no offence, there's no real concept of goodbye or anything in their language. Coedd, they call it, which if you know them at all..." he chuckles "It's quite interesting really. There is a sort of 'end transmission' message they sometimes use but we haven't really been able to work out precisely what circumstances. We think and by we I mean my colleague Cofyn the Three Hundred and Eleventh and Three Hundredths - he's studied this a lot, but we think it's only used at the actual end of a conversation. So if it asked to, I don't know, to borrow a kroesid, not that it would of course but if it did, and you said 'I don't know let me think about it' we think it wouldn't use that end transmission signal because the conversation, the communicative loop is still open. And then when you got back to it and said no or yes or something to actually finish that line of communication then it would..." He suddenly notices that despite the slowness of Coedd's movement it was, in fact some distance away.

"You'll have to excuse me." and he hurried away

By the time he reached his assignment for the evening, his analyser was beeping. He looked down at it and, with a monumental effort of will, didn’t sigh. It was a long one.

“OK, so… Coedd is able. That basically means it’s offering a trade or to do something. Coedd is able, let’s see now. Coedd is able fashion meat-Coedd - that basically means it’ll influence its meat worshippers, errr, sorry that sounds odd doesn’t it. It’s animal…errr, the non-plants who worship it. Anyway. Fashion meat-Coedd die not-meat-Coedd. What the…Coedd can direct… Aha! Got it. Coedd says that it can use it’s…” the analyser beeps again with another message and this time he does sigh slightly.

“Now I’ve lost my train of thought…Coedd can direct it’s followers to help meat, errrm, animals, people, Coedd can direct it’s followers to help people in battle by something…not-meat-Coedd not Coedd travel…right, OK.” He clears his throat.

“Coedd can direct it’s followers to help in battle by making travel through forests and, you know, vegetation quicker. Ambushes and the like. large-Meat is able…got it, but it needs a certain critical mass of followers nearby. Basically it’s saying that with enough followers in the reserve honouring Coedd it can help the Reserve’s armies. Which..” he shrugged. He was an archivist now, sure, but he had been born in the Reserve and anything that could make combat easier was not to be sniffed at in that bug-infested hell.

[Lumaeus]

Tanchitsa bows to Queen Constance and presents to her the gifts: ancient books found in archaeological sites, tiny dumplings with salty sauces - a traditional dish of Kan, 3D models of Kanite spaceships and landmark buildings, most notably the helical DNA Tower, etc.
"Let the lights shine upon our nations' common path, O Queen. A true feast you have welcomed us with. I... I mean, the people of Kan are pleased to make your acquaintance. We shall repay your kindness with kindness, and do no harm to you. The gifts we've brought are but a fragment of our culture, there are literal mountains of these ancient baubles in Kan; we understand the Arkhive might be interested in that as a research- and preservation-based entity."

Her Arkhival Majesty, Queen Constance of Comment the first, returns the bow, but formality cannot suppress the gleeful grin on her face as the treasures are presented.

"You have dug deep into your wells of treasure to bring such generous largess to our humble Hive, and yet you claim so much more? Truly, the legends of Kan ever-majestic find in me more creedence every day. It is an honor to host such a storied and generous people. When time allows, I'd be delighted if you would allow me to introduce you to some representatives of the nine hundred and thirtieth--they would almost certainly offer both their expertise on 'ancient baubles' as well as their aid, if you'd suffer them." She marvels. "Truly, a warmer gesture of friendship has never been given, and we hope ever to reciprocate."

The Queen pauses briefly, with a look of mild social embarassment crossing her face.

"There, ah, is also a young phytotheologian who has asked I petition your delegation for a meeting. He has a theory regarding the sacred properties of Ribnik and the influence of Coedd. The Arkhive itself remains officially disinterested in individual's religious expression, but there seem to be real scholarly merits to his initial considerations."

"It is a pleasure to attend this conference on behalf of the God-King of House Kiniun. A conference in which we are glad to join fellow followers of Avva to trade information and ideals. It is our understanding that the Arkhivists themselves have acknowledged the God-King as a vessel of Avva over text-based communication, and we are pleased to celebrate this with you all. With their contributions to collecting information and dispersing the truth, you all will follow, I am sure. It worries me that so many of you have opted to travel through the vast darkness of space to attend this conference, but simply say the word and I will show you the light as to the dangers of space. May Ophon's eyes watch us all and have mercy."

[I am imagining this to be the cart the teacher wheels in to class to show a movie while they nap]

The Queen interjects between speeches to note, diplomatically, "We are ever grateful when our messages are so warmly interpreted." She leaves it there.

Bedecked in an elaborate robe the color of the morning sky, the dark skinned leader of the republic felt strangely out of place in the festive atmosphere. A scepter of blackest iron shot through with streaks of red could be seen tightly clasped in his left hand, while close behind him stood a pair of guards, clad in black armor, with blue cloaks trailing behind. Crimson eyes stared out of an aging face, filled with guarded suspicion as they carefully studied the Coedd and the imperial delegation. The Fomorian had come to take a measure of all those present; it was not often you can get so many dignitaries and personages from sansar and beyond gathered in the same place after all. It was not an opportunity to be missed.

When the Queen's rounds take her to the Fomorian delegation, she comports herself with solemn respect. "Sovereign Protector," she begins with a slight bow, "I speak for all the Arkhive when I tell you how gratified we are to host your illustrious delegation. The wisdom of The Radiant Republic elected you, and that wisdom is perhaps that which we most lack. Your society is something of an embarrasing hole in our research. We would warmly welcome any education you would share with us, the political scientists and philiosophers who can enlighten our pale understanding and your priests and theologians who could teach the interested your ways. If, indeed, you would be open to outside study. Either way, we pray you will count us ever as a friend. It is truly good to have you here."

"We have come from another planet to discuss matters that are of importance to the whole Empire," he said, "so all of our people can benefit from each other's knowledge.
As a sign of our goodwill, we have brought schematics and other plans for advanced fusion reactors. We can also provide limited technical assistance in training workers to maintain these installations. Please contact us later, after the banquet."

When the chance comes to catch the delegation between their diplomacies and discussions, the Queen thanks them personally for their generosity. "If you would care for it, we would be pleased to dedicate a portion of our island to a training facility for the maintenance engineers you mentioned. A unified point of contact to ease the process for everyone. And we will always gladly pay host to any of your people, whether they come to train or to visit."

"Miss we've talked about this. That's not a name that's a sigil. It's not even one most outsiders can properly pronounce or understand. Is Titania a bad na-." "No it isn't, I really like it. ... And what should I call you, my new buggy friend?"

The Queen laughs. "A tragedy to see a child so oppressed by their guardian! I must say, I can relate. I am Queen Constance of Comment, though you can call me Constance. You are, after all, no less than I am, and being raised into a true greatness. I must apologize if the proceedings go long--even to a diplomat chosen by the Hive, I can't say conferences are an exciting time."

She does not in all the conference lose an excited edge, the liar.

"Should you have need of anything, if you want any distractions, if there's anything in all of the Arkhive you wish to do or see, it is my royal command that it be yours. Just have someone let me know, and the doors will open to you. After all, you are our guest and our friend."

"Queen, your speech is welcomed and your generous food lavished on your guests is magnificent - We may take a liking to it enough to set up some form of trade for the goods on a longer term basis; another year or so perhaps. I do have a question regarding this person of power - Coedd, we are not familiar with them as we follow paths of self-reflection and improvement, not looking to higher powers ourselves - would the people of the hive be open to hearing about our beliefs of self-fulfillment? Also with your request for peace, the Illumined Utopian are not ones to aggress on those similarly aligned, we are small - but we are many. I will take a library card - many thanks Queen of the Arkhive"

"Much of the Arkhive serves Coedd and it is my personal belief that Coedd is inextricable from nature Herself on this world. It follows that observance of her, sometimes worship, is proper to this place. But it is not an exclusive claim and it certainly is not the claim of the Arkhive itself, which is disinterested in religion and passionate about the spread of knowledge. Bring those who can teach, and many will gladly learn of your ways. Some may well learn to embrace them. We would gladly set aside a chamber for any resident chaplain, as well as rooms for any rites--I must apologize, I am myself not well apprised of your ways. But that just means I will have to attend as well. Please, never consider yourselves less than welcome."

The Illumined Utopian receive a library card. They are officially untouchable by the Arkhive's actions, where desired.

Against the backdrop of the general throng of arrivals, an elegant private jet settles upon one of the Arkhive's landing pads, stylized to emulate the flair of an eagle's wings. The seal of the Fiorid dynasty rests emblazoned upon its hull, leaving no mistake as to the affiliation of its disembarking duo of dignitaries. The more eye-catching of the pair is the wheelchair-bound Hekla dei Fiori, more pitiable than imposing, clad in dignified attire but cloaking her legs in a plaid quilt to stave off the bitter cold surrounding the Arkhival oasis. Her pale hair rests cleanly above a morose visage, accentuated by albinist red eyes which seem to gaze through anything she focuses her attention on. The other, Hinrik dei Fiori, strides alongside his sister's chair without effort, a passively regal smile resting upon dignified features. Much of his appearance seems to parallel Hekla's, with red eyes and pale hair, though one cannot avoid giving his metallic right arm a cursory glance.

The Queen might not be their focus, but Constance will not let opportunity go to waste. From her position, the Fiorid dynasty may well be the most imposing force on the greater Chonkian continent, even if only present in down-rightern Chonkia for the time being. It was not the time to force a great diplomacy, but it was important to massage relations into something with potential.

"The Prince does us great honor in allowing us the presence of two of his children!" she greets them with a bow. "Though our means are simple, the entire vault of our Arkhive is open to you, and we hope to have the opportunity to learn from you as well. Have you already been introduced to the Fomorian delegation? Just the sight of your seek ship calls to my mind their wealth of metals. Your engineers at least may have much to discuss."

Queen Chalise Merole Ebonne d'Laforét has stern angular features, a heavy brow and squared jaw that, perhaps twenty years ago might have generously been called 'handsome' by conventional standards. Her dress, all in black, is high-collared, with the pointed tip at the back nearly at the top of her crown. The lower end floats a few fingers above the ground, just revealing sensible boots beneath. She walks with a dignified pace and confident steps, bootheels clicking upon the floor of walkways, though less notably among the foliage of the park. Her eyes scan around the setting, taking in the hosts and attendees quickly, picking out individuals of interest and making note of the noteworthy.

At her introduction in Queen Constance's speech, she gives a polite nod of acknowledgement. Gifts for the hosts include several dozen bottles of the finest Usheret wine vintages of the last several decades, and individual bottles are also presented as gifts to the leading dignitaries of each visiting faction as well.

When the chance comes to speak individually (retainers aside): "We may bear the same title, but I fear I only diminish its true worth when compared to such a noble ruler. A true honor to have you in attendance. The world knows that the vineyards of Caipe Ushere are the finest in the world, and your gifts to all assembled are perhaps the greatest generosity of the day. I hope the humble technological offerings we have can begin to repay you, and I hope we can plant the seed of a friendship which will itself produce vines and bear fruit."

[moossabi]

No Empire Event is Complete without Time Bubbles

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The Queen might not be their focus, but Constance will not let opportunity go to waste. From her position, the Fiorid dynasty may well be the most imposing force on the greater Chonkian continent, even if only present in down-rightern Chonkia for the time being. It was not the time to force a great diplomacy, but it was important to massage relations into something with potential.

"The Prince does us great honor in allowing us the presence of two of his children!" she greets them with a bow. "Though our means are simple, the entire vault of our Arkhive is open to you, and we hope to have the opportunity to learn from you as well. Have you already been introduced to the Fomorian delegation? Just the sight of your seek ship calls to my mind their wealth of metals. Your engineers at least may have much to discuss."

Upon meeting the Queen, the dynastic duo would have delivered greetings similar to those delivered to their respective targets several minutes later, which would then facilitate Constance's introduction and bow. Hekla is quick to respond in the latter action's wake. "There is no need for deference; you owe no such fealty to the Principality, and we aren't even the highest notables..."

"It's a gesture of good will, sister." Hinrik smiles as he offers a cursory bow to the Queen in turn. "Common respect among dignitaries is no great imposition."

The seated dynast's eyebrows furrow in response. "A handshake seems to suffice for your usual interlocutors-"

Hinrik coughs awkwardly, hastily moving on. "-The presence of the Fomorians is indeed one of the reasons for our attendance, though I do not wish to rush things..." He casts a sideways glance to where Cathal is feasting upon the purple fruit. "These provisions are rather lavish. An incredible contrast with the surrounding region, I must say. If I might inquire, to what manner of technology do you owe such a bountiful cornucopia?"

[Epinephrine_Syn]

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The Queen laughs. "A tragedy to see a child so oppressed by their guardian! I must say, I can relate. I am Queen Constance of Comment, though you can call me Constance. You are, after all, no less than I am, and being raised into a true greatness. I must apologize if the proceedings go long--even to a diplomat chosen by the Hive, I can't say conferences are an exciting time."

She does not in all the conference lose an excited edge, the liar.

"Should you have need of anything, if you want any distractions, if there's anything in all of the Arkhive you wish to do or see, it is my royal command that it be yours. Just have someone let me know, and the doors will open to you. After all, you are our guest and our friend."

Titania smiled broadly, although a slight hint of confusion appeared on her face as she looked up to Serenity to find her giggling behind a hand covering her mouth, before turning back to the queen of the Arkhive.

“That is a very dangerous offer to ma-“Titania works for a name, and I’m glad to abuse your offer, Constance. Show me where the Jelly is made. I am very, very curious.” Serenity is in a giggling fit again, although quickly composes herself into an amused but refined smile, in contrast with the shark tooth wide bared grin the small girl had, her fingers in this overt gesture of drumming against each other.

“It would be curious to see, but not touch. This is a rare opportunity to observe in person.”

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The commander himself, once he's satisfied listening to his team on the comms, experiments a little with some buttons on a bracer keypad before murmuring something back to them. If anyone at that point approaches and asks what the button pressing was all about, the answer from the leader of the lannan is quite mundane - it was just putting in the right settings so their armour's environmental controls brought things inside the suit to a comfortable state in this temperature (the system was built to deal with the need for heavier armour than would normally be sensible in a hot, humid jungle environment, but it turned out that it worked to keep you warm just as well). Not that they needed to do much here - even though they're in the frozen north of Sansar, the hives themselves seemed quite capable of making things pleasant indoors. Apart from that, he seems content staying with the table, sitting by Scorcha's side and mentally weighing up whether it'd be better to join in the meal or keep helmeted up, his indecision showing through a little despite the helmet.

"Ant commander. I like your helmet." The girl looks small, but speaks intelligently, as if she were ten years older than she appeared. One of the others with her, not Serenity, but another of the incoming Moonsoul Pures, smiles, fully adult, human shaped, and in a light miko esque outfit. Not seeming to mind the cold in this with exposed flesh, unlike the little girl whose head barely reaches the table height which is fully bundled up. "She means that as a compliment. Truly. She really likes ants."

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Against the backdrop of the general throng of arrivals, an elegant private jet settles upon one of the Arkhive's landing pads, stylized to emulate the flair of an eagle's wings. The seal of the Fiorid dynasty rests emblazoned upon its hull, leaving no mistake as to the affiliation of its disembarking duo of dignitaries. The more eye-catching of the pair is the wheelchair-bound Hekla dei Fiori, more pitiable than imposing, clad in dignified attire but cloaking her legs in a plaid quilt to stave off the bitter cold surrounding the Arkhival oasis. Her pale hair rests cleanly above a morose visage, accentuated by albinist red eyes which seem to gaze through anything she focuses her attention on. The other, Hinrik dei Fiori, strides alongside his sister's chair without effort, a passively regal smile resting upon dignified features. Much of his appearance seems to parallel Hekla's, with red eyes and pale hair, though one cannot avoid giving his metallic right arm a cursory glance.

"Greetings." Serenity gives a gentle curtsey, waiting for a spare moment to speak to the Fiorid. "This is a good time to meet in person rather than just discussing across the SpaceSquare, even if any formal agreements are done elsewhere." The little girl whose head barely comes up to the waist of the skirt Serenity has pipes up, tipping her hat back to look upwards at the other two.

"Mom told me to start off conversations by being complimentary and giving people a reason to talk about themselves. So tell me what makes elves different from pointy eared humans and why are elves just plain better?" The older woman looks down at her younger companion, exhaling a smiling sigh. "Okay, accurate, but tone it down."

[Lt-Murgen]

Later, but not too late

"Queen, your speech is welcomed and your generous food lavished on your guests is magnificent - We may take a liking to it enough to set up some form of trade for the goods on a longer term basis; another year or so perhaps. I do have a question regarding this person of power - Coedd, we are not familiar with them as we follow paths of self-reflection and improvement, not looking to higher powers ourselves - would the people of the hive be open to hearing about our beliefs of self-fulfillment? Also with your request for peace, the Illumined Utopian are not ones to aggress on those similarly aligned, we are small - but we are many. I will take a library card - many thanks Queen of the Arkhive"

Senior Advisor Quinn Emery Kai Rene approached the table, giving the Protectorate Guard all of the deference they would the heavily armored Glix. "Illustrated Prime Marcus, what a welcome sight! I was afraid Badal would have to rely solely upon our poor showing. Isn't the banquet magnificent? I've dispatched one of my adjutents to beg for cuttings and seeds. What a triumph it would be to add these varietals to our aquacultural farms."
Quinn bent at the knees and squatted so that their eye level was roughly the same as the Prime. It was commonly held within the State Department that the Jy'Mar saw matching eye level as a sign of respect and deference. "What are your favorites here? My people know so little about the palate of the Jy'mar."

A coversation with Coedd

"Coedd is all. Coedd is able" He translates rapidly, having seen that countless times then continues a little more hesitantly. "Coedd creates Coedd open-meat-mind. Oh, I see, Coedd can create plants that...open your mind?"

"Interesting. Our Bio-electrical Mediators are well versed in using psychoactive chemicals in combination with our Bio-mesh in mental health therapy for a variety of imbalances. There are many companies within our aerostat dedicated to those areas of research. And if we could develop a more attuned mechanism than your analyzer, that would be a great benefit to the entire empire."

[Volthawk]

<Queen's response to Scorcha>

Scorcha listens patiently to the Queen's response, curious to hear her explain a little more about their plans. The answer is...not quite what she was expecting, even putting aside the Coedd-related tangent, but the more she thought it about the more the logic made sense to her. Ultimately, it was the same response as you saw on the personal level with those who were non-violent but lived in a violent world - by making themselves useful, indispensible even, to those around them, they became protected. Alright. That was a game she could play. "Of course I would like to help you. Besides military aid, should the need arise, we can contribute some works for your records - we were already compiling some of our stories for the Empire, and sharing those won't be a problem, and besides that..." Her gaze leaves the Queen to scan the crowd, picking out one of the sealga and calling out to them. "Hey! You have a copy of the Sealga's Guide to Sansar, yes?" When she's met with a confused nod, she turns her gaze back to the Queen. "There we are, a more modern piece of our literature. One of the first sealga to leave the Reserve and find out about the other Elect members wrote a book for those like her, a description of what it's like out here in wider Sansar. I'm sure you'll find it interesting."

<Demi Perse>

Looking up at the big woman, Scorcha thinks for a moment before nodding. "That would work for us. We have plenty of agricultural technicians who'd appreciate the advice, and as far as chitincraft is concerned...well, there's a good variety of it on sale in any of our cities. If you'd be so inclined to spend your pay on our own artisans...well, nobody could complain with that." She smiles. "I hope you like a warmer climate than this, though."

<U.N.C.L.E. faith stuff>

Scorcha seems to be quite interested in what Quinn shows off, even through the usual calm face she's been using throughout the banquet, but she collects herself before responding. "I'm honoured to hear of the interest you've taken in our history. Calling the bàscail xeno-biological is...a little inaccurate, given that they were created on Sansar with pre-War techniques by what we assume were mostly humans, but the spirit is correct. We overcome the bàscail over the centuries, and now we are united and ready to face the rest of the world - and as we now know, the worlds beyond. I must confess that I don't know the ins and outs of your own history enough to draw parallels, however."

"As far as your magic is concerned...yes that is something I would be interested in. Our genetic techniques have operated along...somewhat similar lines, although we hadn't had much luck with directly affecting magical ability, so our genetic enhancement projects have focused on more mundane projects - you know, minor life extension and physical enhancements, resistance to toxic fauna and flora, that sort of thing. I'm definitely curious to see where you take it." She nods. "Please keep us - me - posted on your progress."

<inbred elves>

Scorcha looks thoughtfully at Henrik as she takes his offered hand. The lannan commander besides her thinks for a moment before leaning over and whispering something, unintentionally loud enough for Henrik's translators to pick up on - caornag-iomnach, which gets translated as...anxious brawl? The second potential phrasing the translator comes up with might make more sense though - vigilant hive.

"I feel like you might be correct there, we do have much to discuss. Are you here for assurances from us, or to make claims yourself? The amount your people have been building up their military forces means I'm inclined to believe that it's one of those two, but please correct me if I have misunderstood."

<wine delivery>

When the Eilif Dhaoine delegation is given the wine, naturally it goes to Scorcha and her lannan first. Once one of the lannan has tried some and given it an emphatic thumbs up, Scorcha pours out a glass for herself and gives it a try. Nodding, she gestures for one of the lannan to go over to the sealga group feasting and loudly talking and offer the bottle to them, and she quietly watches them drink it and enjoy it. Good. With that settled, she gets up and approaches the queen of Caipe Ushere. "Greetings. I must compliment you on the drink you offered to us. Wine, I believe it's called? Is this something you had to specially get for this, or something your people make a lot of?"

<Coedd missionary work, sort of>

By chance, Quinn happens to meet one of the sealga first, one of the hangers-on from the group hanging around near the Glix. The man, a lanky sort with messy red hair, gives Quinn a bit of a bored look as he rambles through explaining the ins and outs of plant communication, but nonetheless follows the translator as he hurries after Coedd's representative. Seemed more interesting than what he was doing before, at least. Once the guy gets to the point finally and explains what Coedd has to offer, the sealga seems very interested. "Is that so? Well damn, why didn't you open with that? Followers honouring Coedd, huh? That might be doable, particularly once I let the others know what you're saying here...is Coedd gonna send people out to us to get people on side, or what?"

<weird child but not child girl>

The lannan commander, keeping watch for trouble, fails to look down for long enough that the girl catches him by surprise a little. Looking down, his eyes narrow a little behind the eyes of his helmet as he assesses the situation. One of them. The...Moonsoul, yes, that was the name he'd heard. Along with scraps of other stories. Little of things around them seemed clear, and yet here was a child, looking like any other but...there was something...well. No harm in civility.

"I see. Thank you, it is a mark of honour for us all that we wear it. Our unit of lannan was outfitted at the same time, using chitin taken from...yes, I suppose 'ant' is close enough, from the same nest, so it binds us and reminds of our enemy at all times, you see." He chuckles a little. "It is...unusual to hear someone say they really like ants, but I suppose where you come from they're those small harmless specimens I've seen, so it makes sense. Do you know much about the Reserve, child?"

[moossabi]

After the Previous Time Bubble but Before the two Separate Conversations

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"Greetings." Serenity gives a gentle curtsey, waiting for a spare moment to speak to the Fiorid. "This is a good time to meet in person rather than just discussing across the SpaceSquare, even if any formal agreements are done elsewhere." The little girl whose head barely comes up to the waist of the skirt Serenity has pipes up, tipping her hat back to look upwards at the other two.

"Mom told me to start off conversations by being complimentary and giving people a reason to talk about themselves. So tell me what makes elves different from pointy eared humans and why are elves just plain better?" The older woman looks down at her younger companion, exhaling a smiling sigh. "Okay, accurate, but tone it down."

Hekla visibly winces at the question, vaguely looking off in some other direction, while the ever-enthusiastic Hinrik smiles before launching into his response. "True, some would hold that belief. I, for one, value the diversity of life upon great Sansar, though it cannot be denied that our extended lifespan leaves us especially predisposed to the arduous work of rulership. Even the lowest among us may persist for twice as long as the average human, and our Elder Blood makes us... well, immortal." He happily gestures downwards to his uncomfortably-seated sister. "Hekla, my eldest sister, has lived for nearly three centuries, and neither of us show any sign of slowing down."

A sardonic quip escapes the crippled woman's thin lips. "Indeed, paradise is wholly free of troubles."

"Oh, cheer up." Hinrik gives his sibling a nudge with his right arm, a metallic prosthesis. "We were born for greatness. Certainly, elvenkind and humanity - on what little basis the two can be regarded as distinct, though I doubt the utility of such taxonomic division - bear a common heritage, but our Elder Blood represents the height of life's evolution, a final conquest of death itself."

Scramble for Sansar

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Scorcha looks thoughtfully at Henrik as she takes his offered hand. The lannan commander besides her thinks for a moment before leaning over and whispering something, unintentionally loud enough for Henrik's translators to pick up on - caornag-iomnach, which gets translated as...anxious brawl? The second potential phrasing the translator comes up with might make more sense though - vigilant hive.

"I feel like you might be correct there, we do have much to discuss. Are you here for assurances from us, or to make claims yourself? The amount your people have been building up their military forces means I'm inclined to believe that it's one of those two, but please correct me if I have misunderstood."

Having spoken nothing but a fluent and formal Low Imperial, a shade of dismay falls upon Hinrik's face when confronted with his prospective colleagues' foreign whispering. He chooses to ignore the faux pas for the time being, having more dignified matters to attend to. "You are well-informed. My sister Eydis, Chancellor to our Princely father, has taken it upon herself to enact a general muster in the interest of securing Greater Alfheim. I, of course, hold little influence over these ambitions, thus I have no desire to threaten, demand, or extract assurances. Her conquests are an inevitability, a fact which I hope the wider community of Sansar will find it in their hearts to accept." From a satchel at his side, Hinrik retrieves a map of the planet, the territorial ambitions ascribed to the Chancellor already marked [Regions 35, 37, 38, and 51], and places it on the table nearest to the two parties. "I have been informed that Eilif Dhaoine does not share my sister's predilection for preparation and overwhelming force, but I must confess that your present assault to the northwest indicates a similar overall interest. I do not disagree with the move; Sansar is better off in the hands of its own Elect than left as carrion for interlopers to devour at will, yet I feel that collaboration would be most fruitful in this endeavor. To this end... what are your state's ambitions, milady?"

[Epinephrine_Syn]

The lannan commander, keeping watch for trouble, fails to look down for long enough that the girl catches him by surprise a little. Looking down, his eyes narrow a little behind the eyes of his helmet as he assesses the situation. One of them. The...Moonsoul, yes, that was the name he'd heard. Along with scraps of other stories. Little of things around them seemed clear, and yet here was a child, looking like any other but...there was something...well. No harm in civility.

"I see. Thank you, it is a mark of honour for us all that we wear it. Our unit of lannan was outfitted at the same time, using chitin taken from...yes, I suppose 'ant' is close enough, from the same nest, so it binds us and reminds of our enemy at all times, you see." He chuckles a little. "It is...unusual to hear someone say they really like ants, but I suppose where you come from they're those small harmless specimens I've seen, so it makes sense. Do you know much about the Reserve, child?"

"Not a bit!" The girl states as if she's proud, and then reconsiders. "... okay depends what you mean by 'much' I guess. I've read the catalogues of critters there, and yes the ants over there don't match the ants I know from my own stories. I have a rough idea that you fight for the ch..chiitiin... armors and that it's a sign of pride. I wonder how well the identifying with or as a thing you consider an enemy works out in the long term, when tying it to what you wear."

A brief moment of respite. "But I'm more than happy to listen. This is a socializing event, and I hope you'll enjoy talking of the pride of your people."

Hekla visibly winces at the question, vaguely looking off in some other direction, while the ever-enthusiastic Hinrik smiles before launching into his response. "True, some would hold that belief. I, for one, value the diversity of life upon great Sansar, though it cannot be denied that our extended lifespan leaves us especially predisposed to the arduous work of rulership. Even the lowest among us may persist for twice as long as the average human, and our Elder Blood makes us... well, immortal." He happily gestures downwards to his uncomfortably-seated sister. "Hekla, my eldest sister, has lived for nearly three centuries, and neither of us show any sign of slowing down."

A sardonic quip escapes the crippled woman's thin lips. "Indeed, paradise is wholly free of troubles."

"Oh, cheer up." Hinrik gives his sibling a nudge with his right arm, a metallic prosthesis. "We were born for greatness. Certainly, elvenkind and humanity - on what little basis the two can be regarded as distinct, though I doubt the utility of such taxonomic division - bear a common heritage, but our Elder Blood represents the height of life's evolution, a final conquest of death itself."

While they talk, at the slowing down remark, very quietly, is the tiny Titania peering around and remarking "ooo, turbo jets?" at the wheelchair in a quiet voice.

"It's honestly refreshing to hear that minimizing of birthright jockeying. Our peoples finding a way to conquer death and the true end is a large positive. I fully admit even I am still new ish to state building, so the troubles in paradise are novel and a little hard to understand. My people have always lived by themselves in a way that having to wrangle literal millions is a foreign concept."

"Yeah, in my previous life I wasn't a human or an el-" The girl got a small tug on the ear, cutting her statement off halfway. "State secrets."

"Regardless, yes, I very much look forwards to working together on whatever challenges come next, be they from nature or nefarious outer forces outside Sansar."

[Silent_Interim]

An Old Man And An Elf

Elsewhere
The quiet automated wheels of Hekla's wheelchair glide towards the fore of the room, where the Imperial High Lord has taken up position. Her ordinarily dour expression takes on a lighter tone, reframing the bags under her eyes as indicative of a great tiredness. Such an aged expression upon such a young woman; this must be the rumored immortality of the elven monarchy at work. "It's good to make your acquaintance, High Lord. I would bow, but..." She grimaces briefly, looking down. "...the sentiment is there, in any case. My name is Hekla dei Fiori, one of the dynasts of Verdalfheim. I must say, it has been an honor to our people that the Emperor would consider our principality among his roster of trustworthy vassals."

The High Lord nods respectfully to the woman in the wheelchair. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear Hekla. And please, call me Nasir. If I insisted on all the formalities, why, I'd simply never get anything done. And I am sure that the Emperor has made an excellent choice, in his vast and inscrutable wisdom. Remember, if his designs seem strange or absurd, that his gaze goes much further than any of ours."

An Old Man And A Very Nice Bottle Of Wine

The delegation from Caipe Ushere arrives on a sleek hovercraft, built in a style reminiscent of the nautical of several centuries earlier, graceful curving hull and silver sides adorned with sweeping airsails alight with hundreds of interlocking geometric patterns that shift constantly in color and position as the ship steers into the harbor. The party that disembarks to attend the conference is lead by a single cavalier: a young woman in bright colored garb of multiple layers of shimmering cloth, bearing a glistening slender sabre at her side. Behind her strides the queen, followed by another dozen associated courtiers and functionaries. While the garish attire of the cavalier draws the eye, it serves mostly to bring attention by contrast to the tall woman behind her, whose clothes, while exquisite, lack any sort of color whatsoever.

Queen Chalise Merole Ebonne d'Laforét has stern angular features, a heavy brow and squared jaw that, perhaps twenty years ago might have generously been called 'handsome' by conventional standards. Her dress, all in black, is high-collared, with the pointed tip at the back nearly at the top of her crown. The lower end floats a few fingers above the ground, just revealing sensible boots beneath. She walks with a dignified pace and confident steps, bootheels clicking upon the floor of walkways, though less notably among the foliage of the park. Her eyes scan around the setting, taking in the hosts and attendees quickly, picking out individuals of interest and making note of the noteworthy.

Once their entrance is complete, the cavalier steps back to allow her majesty the lead of the delegation, remaining close over one shoulder throughout the event. The other courtiers remain on hand for providing details, translation, or making conversational or negotiation arrangements, but it is clear that to any approaching Queen Ebonne is the primary to contact.

At her introduction in Queen Constance's speech, she gives a polite nod of acknowledgement. Gifts for the hosts include several dozen bottles of the finest Usheret wine vintages of the last several decades, and individual bottles are also presented as gifts to the leading dignitaries of each visiting faction as well.

"Oh, now this is a gift worth having!" The High Lord fawns over the bottle presented to him, eyes wide with glee. "Oh, it has been too long since I have had the opportunity to enjoy a fine vintage. I have a small vineyard myself, but the wine there is like ash compared to the famous Caipe Ushere vintages. Truly, this is an honour. Perhaps we can arrange some sort of import agreement, there are some back on Ophon who would kill to have some of these bottles in their cellars. I wish only that I were speaking metaphorically; I will have to have my guards be extra-vigilant for assassins until I have drunk this."

[moossabi]

Not just the Moonmen, but the Moonwomen, and the Moonchildren too

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While they talk, at the slowing down remark, very quietly, is the tiny Titania peering around and remarking "ooo, turbo jets?" at the wheelchair in a quiet voice.

"It's honestly refreshing to hear that minimizing of birthright jockeying. Our peoples finding a way to conquer death and the true end is a large positive. I fully admit even I am still new ish to state building, so the troubles in paradise are novel and a little hard to understand. My people have always lived by themselves in a way that having to wrangle literal millions is a foreign concept."

"Yeah, in my previous life I wasn't a human or an el-" The girl got a small tug on the ear, cutting her statement off halfway. "State secrets."

"Regardless, yes, I very much look forwards to working together on whatever challenges come next, be they from nature or nefarious outer forces outside Sansar."

Smirking at the suggestion of state secrets, Hekla splits off from the discourse to roll her way over to where she and Hinrik will listen to the announcements of the Queen and Eilif Dhaoine in a few minutes. Hinrik, though, seems naively delighted by the development. "So, you have also sought means to defeat the scourge of death. I am sure our people would have much in common. Should you ever seek an alliance with our polity, I'm sure the Prince and Chancellor will see an obvious basis in our ideological overlap." He glances over in the direction of the stage. "It seems like they'll be starting soon." He briefly crouches down, offer his left (intact) hand to the tiny Titania for a shake. "It was good to meet you both; you must come to Verdalfheim sometime. Not to disparage this venue, but an island of greenery can never compare to the beauties of our jungle home."

Nasir d'Empire

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An Old Man And An Elf


The High Lord nods respectfully to the woman in the wheelchair. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear Hekla. And please, call me Nasir. If I insisted on all the formalities, why, I'd simply never get anything done. And I am sure that the Emperor has made an excellent choice, in his vast and inscrutable wisdom. Remember, if his designs seem strange or absurd, that his gaze goes much further than any of ours."

Hekla raises an eyebrow at the disparagement of the Emperor's reasoning, for a great many reasons. The High Lord had immediately and correctly guessed where she was taking the conversation, and his preemptive defense had thrown the Fiorid on the conversational backfoot. "I would never wish to imply his will to be an absurdity, though the obvious implication is that something has changed." She pauses, choosing her next words carefully behind a mask of sphinx-like impassivity. "One would not commit to two millennia of reduced action without good reason, and to break with such a firmly established paradigm implies the triumph of a far more pressing reason. If we are meant to fulfill some purpose, likely in response to a recently changed condition, would we not be better equipped to serve our intended function if we knew that reason?"