(Carried over from the last comment thread with a little Gamemaster Override. For the record, Wirg has already gone back into his kitchen.)
"I apologize for the strangeness, Uskua," says Mon'Fargret to the anxious waitress just as she is finishing up and preparing to depart, "but if you recall, she wasn't the big talker back when that fellow shot the floor. Oddly, that fellow has an interesting story of his own that I won't go into here."
Uskua's only reply before she skitters off is an anguished look.
"Do tell!" calls someone using an unfamiliar language with a telepathic translator. It's someone of a strange, humanoid race unknown to most of the party (all the player characters not otherwise informed, anyway) who is sitting at a table with a Foldorian man. Both of them look like they are probably spacers. Turning his angular-faced gaze toward the party, the speaker rises from his chair and starts to approach slowly. "Your friends have certainly gone to enough trouble to attract everyone's attention! Why stop now? If you have an interesting story, then I'd be very much interested in hearing it! And if you don't care to talk about this 'fellow' who shoots floors, why not explain to me why the so-colorful waitress was so taken with that one?" He(?) turns abruptly, leveling his eyes on Bina. "Or why she looks so strangely familiar?"
Bina's brows lower. "Have we met?" she asks in a low voice.
"Obviously not," the spacer replies, "since I usually try to avoid Hergoth. But how could anyone arriving at the local aerospace port miss those two holographic priestesses that bow and intone that ridiculous greeting to all that pass through the gate?" His eyes narrow. "I thought so before, and now I'm certain. One of those charming holo-priestesses looks just like you...or would if you were wearing braids and a tiara!"
Several of the other customers in the cafe immediately stop what they were doing and take note.
"Or a brooch?" suggests Bina, tapping the spot on her chest that it would have occupied. "No brooch, no priestess."
"Brooches can be hidden," suggests the spacer. "But the witch powers of a Hergoth priestess? Not likely! So what's your game?"
"Look, do you want something?" hisses Mey'Luskar impatiently.
"Mainly just to sate my curiosity," replies the alien evenly. "But also to make something perfectly clear. If this is indeed a witch of the Temple here in disguise to spy on us, she'd do well to take her mind probes elsewhere!"
Some of the other customers immediately set down whatever they were holding and start gathering themselves together to leave. At one table, a Yangae woman (an artist and an acquaintance of some members of the party) starts trying to urge her companion, a female Bolgan, to leave, but the Bolgan won't budge.
31 comments:
"Why are you afraid of mind-probes and witches? Do you have something unsavory to hide?", Nekshi asks.
The stranger turns an unreadable expression to Nekshi and then replies, "If I do, it's my business, isn't it? Are we to be allowed no privacy?" He glances about the room. "Are all our minds to be held open to scrutiny?"
"Don't fart," says Bina with a hint of irritation in her voice, "and I won't smell you!"
The stranger raises his tall, thin frame to its full height. "Meaning?"
"If you don't want me to see your thoughts," replies the Hergoth, "don't attract my attention!"
Mon'Fargret interrupts, "It would be unlikely that the subject of an airport advertisement would make an inconspicuous spy, so that doesn't make sense. What does seem odd to me is that someone freshly arrived on our planet would so quickly want to meddle in the affairs of its inhabitants. This woman," he gestures to Bina, "actually lives here. She has no more reason to read minds than any of the other Hergoths that live here. We are not as special as you think and we would appreciate it if you allowed us to speak to our waitress in peace."
The alien turns around slowly and fixes Mon'Fargret with blazing, green eyes. "I may be a stranger here," he hisses, "but I'm no fool. I understand too well how they control their own kind...or maybe any kind that is willing to accept them. Do you?" With that, he turns on his heel and struts back to his seat. Then he says to his Foldorian companion, "My apologies, my friend. I thought this would be a friendly haven. Sometimes a proper response is necessary."
His companion offers no reaction at all, but rather sits cradling his drink nonchalantly, avoiding eye contact.
"I'm sorry I've been so much trouble," says Bina with a sigh. "She really graces me through you!"
"It might be better just to say 'thanks' here," offers Mey'Luskar quietly. "And you're not the problem."
One corner of Bina's mouth rises. "You mean you're not going to blame me for that fine?"
"The stranger raises an interesting point, and it is something you perhaps could answer, Bina, if you are willing."
Nekshi steeples her fingers together in thought.
"Do Hergoths "read" alien species accurately? You have interacted with us for a short but interesting time period. There must have been an entire spectrum of emotions during that time, from races both familar", she gestures to Mon'Fargret, "and unfamilar", a nod towards Granite.
"Can you decipher all limbic expressions in real time? If so, I will be one step closer to believing in this 'Oneness' you refer to."
Bina hums uncertainly and looks at Mey'Luskar. Then she says, "How do you explain color to someone who can't see?"
"Tell her the same thing you told me," says Mey'Luskar.
Bina takes a breath and then says, "It's like there's singing all around all the time. Different feelings sound different. Different species sound different, too, so sometimes it's hard to tell, but most humanoids from this spiral arm are pretty close. It's there all the time, so I don't notice it unless someone is really loud...or really different. And if my mind is on you, I can hear your singing clearer."
"Nekshi was talking about the Oneness, lady Bina," points out Dabid. "That's not the same thing." Turning to Nekshi, he adds, "The Oneness is strictly a Hergoth thing, and we should be glad of it. Otherwise, their leaders would be influencing our thoughts, too."
"What?" says Bina with alarm. "They do NOT influence our thoughts! They just help shape our sense of right and wrong! We have free will!"
"Freedom of choice," quips Dabid to Nekshi, "stacked according to someone else's standards."
"It's the counsel of the wise!" retorts Bina.
"Well I must say, from what I've seen of Hergoths I feel comfortable with them acting as a regulatory agency on themselves. I assume this counsel acts primarily to oversee the smooth flow of timespace around so many telempathic minds."
She stops to sip her water.
"It's not much different from the electronic world most of us are familiar with. We can't 'see' that either, it's just another system for the exchange of information. Dabid suggests (I think) that this counsel sets the standards and rules for this 'empathic' information exchange. Is this a correct assertion?"
"I suppose so," replies Dabid, his forehead wrinkling. "Instead of having a solid rule of law, they just let their priests give them a catalog-order conscience. No fuss, no mess, everyone's all warm and happy. No one knows they're being brainwashed."
"That's a cruel way of putting it," says Bina.
"Actually," chimes in Mey'Luskar, "one thing I've learned in the past couple of days is that not all Hergoth choose to accept the Oneness."
"Right!" agrees Bina. "Like Superintendent Br'am!"
Uskua brings everyone's drink. She doesn't say anything, but she looks more than a little jittery.
Uskua sets the drinks down without a word and moves quickly away again. As she heads back to the kitchen, however, the alien spacer stops her, calls her closer, and starts discussing something quietly with her.
[Dang, I meant to have M'F talk with her]
Mon'Fargret communicates with Mey and Bina, "Something is wrong with Uskua. Please let me know if you sense something."
[The following assumes M'F is acquainted with the other Yangae artists in the area. If not, disregard the following:]
He then approaches the table with the Yangae artist and Bolgan (carrying his rucksack with him) sliding a glance over his shoulder, "Oh hey, [insert her familiar name here]. I saw that piece you did at the showing last week. Good work. I am taking this piece over to a friend's house for his living room."
He nods towards his rucksack. He positions himself to keep an eye on the alien and friend.
[M'F is acquainted with this particular artist, a maker of molded figures and plaques who goes by the name La'Brissa.]
La'Brissa, who was quietly trying to convince her Bolgan companion to leave with her, seems to relax a bit, but she still regards Mon'Fargret with troubled eyes. Remembering her manners, she bows Yangae style and intones a proper expression of gratitude (but with a casual air). Then she seats herself and says with a smile, "Don't tell me you're giving it away! Ever the gallant one, eh, Moffi?" She very obviously rolls her eyes in the direction of Mey'Luskar and Bina as she gestures for Mon'Fargret to sit down.
Her Bolgan companion is clearly bothered by Mon'Fargret's presence. [I need an ALT roll for M'F.]
Both of the spacers are eying the exchange warily.
I rolled a 3 (ALT is 14)
(Check your e-mail for the result.)
He pulls up a chair and sits, "Well, thank you. I've not had the pleasure of meeting your friend. I am Mon'Fargret, an artist friend of La'Brissa. Are you an artist as well?"
"Um, no..." replies the Bolgan nervously, eyes shifting around the room.
There is an awkward pause, and then La'Brissa says, "She's no talker. She's very civilized, too, so I guess I'd better call you 'lord'." She giggles shyly, as she often does. Then she becomes more serious. "I'm surprised you don't know her. Lord. She's a rep for an art broker or something like that."
La'Brissa seems anxious, but in a different way from the Bolgan. Mon'Fargret gets the impression that she wants to ask or say something but isn't sure how.
Suddenly Mey'Luskar jumps as if shocked or stung and squeals loudly, drawing the attention of everyone in the pub.
"What's wrong?" asks Bina.
"I, uh...I, um," attempts Mey'Luskar, running her fingers through her hair.
"'I'?" presses Bina.
"I...uh...ah!" Mey'Luskar rubs her hands together. "I just remembered I forgot to turn off my tea warmer!" She starts to stand up. "I think maybe I'll...just sit down." She sits down again.
"Your friends will be here soon," says Bina reassuringly.
He turns to La'Brissa, "Meet me on my level."
Then very quietly, "You seem to have a question on your mind. I will answer it if I can."
La'Brissa looks a little surprised. "How proper of you, Moffi!" she says with a wry smile. She glances over at the party and then leans closer. "It's that femmie over there," she says in a low voice. "The Alyam with the frosted hair and chains. Is she really with you? I know her! I mean, I've never really met her, but I know who she is! Almost everybody in the Square does! Any time the Scarlets are out there making noise, she's always the one screaming the loudest!" She glances over at Mey'Luskar and Bina's table again. "What's she doing here with a Herg? She just ordered Herg bean-shit, too! What's going on? And what is it about that Herg-ette? She just...I don't know. Something about her... That spacer dude says she's a witch! Is she? What's going on, Moffi?"
While La'Brissa is talking, the Bolgan shifts in her chair uncomfortably, eyes darting around the room. Then she suddenly stands up.
"I, uh...need to go freshen," she says in answer to the questioning looks, jerking a claw in the direction of the rest room.
"Well, the short story is that the Alyam's boy friend abandoned her, the Herg saved her life and she's had a bit of a change of heart about things as a result. Whether it lasts, I don't know. I'm not sure about the Herg gal, just that they hang out because of the other stuff. She seems like a regular type to me."
"Not to change the subject, but I heard there was some interesting stuff going on at that new place on Bousin in Ekr'in. I wouldn't mind seeing if they were interested in my art or something. Do you have an 'in' there?" Mon'Fargret says a bit conspiratorially.
La'Brissa takes another glance at Bina and Mey'Luskar, who are chatting about something.
"Saved her life, huh?" says La'Brissa thoughtfully. "That's ironic. Look at 'em now. Pretty as a picture! Kind of makes you...what was that? Bousin?" Her eyes go wide. "What, you mean that scary place they say the uppers have been going? I'm not the one to ask about that, Moffi. I'm not even a bark like you. I'm on the ground, and you know it!"
"When you put it like that, I can see it is probably a bad idea. Any idea what the moss they are doing there?", he replies.
[She answers]
"Anyhow, I think I made your art broker friend nervous or something. Good luck and I will see you around."
With that he smiles and gets up to go back to his chair.
[La'Brissa's answer to the first question:]
"No idea," she says, gesturing negative anxiously. "But the whole thing makes me feel all creepy."
[In answer to the second comment:]
"Yeah," she agrees. "She's usually an easy sort. I don't why you made her all jittery like that. Best shade, Moffi. Lord Moffi."
Mon'Fargret gives a slight comical bow after hearing Lord Moffi and he returns to his seat checking the green fellow out along the way.
(Actually, he has orange skin. His hair and eyes are green, though.)
As Mon'Fargret returns to his seat, the alien spacer eyes him darkly.
After the quick exodus of customers, all that are left besides the party are the two spacers, La'Brissa, her Bolgan companion (who went to the restroom), and what appears like an older Besteeng woman.
After a few more minutes, Uskua reappears with some of the simpler orders. She still looks troubled, and she keeps stealing furtive glances in Bina's direction. As she starts to leave again, she pauses and then heads toward Bina and Mey'Luskar's table.
"Um," she says to Bina nervously in Her-Galad, "is there...anything else I can get you? Anything at all?"
Bina's muted Hergoth facial expression is hard to read. She replies in Yangae, "Thanks for your kindness, friend, but you should give it to everyone!"
"R-right," stammers Uskua. "Everyone! Um...right!" She tries to turn to go, but her body doesn't seem to want to cooperate.
The Besteeng woman immediately speaks up. "Uskua, dear! Would you be so kind as to bring me another garsh?" She taps on her not-quite-empty glass.
"Right away, lady!" replies Uskua gratefully, hopping to it with a brisk, Yangae-style bow.
"Just what is going on here?" demands Dabid to no one in particular.
"What indeed!" calls the alien spacer. Then he returns his attention to his meal.
After a bit, the female Bolgan emerges from the restroom looking rather anxious. Returning to the table, she asks La'Brissa if she is ready to go.
"What?" demands La'Brissa irritably. "A bit ago I couldn't get you out of your chair! Now what's the rush?" When the Bolgan does nothing but stammer in reply, she adds, "I've changed my mind. I'm going to have another bapf."
Ham mutters some dark misgivings about the situation, echoed by Dabid.
"Don't be troubled!" says Bina calmy. "There's nothing to fear here." She looks over at the Bolgan very deliberately. "We're all safe here."
Post a Comment