You find yourself entering a lavishly-appointed ballroom aboard the Duchess of Argyll aether-flyer. From a trio of musicians in the corner, classical music fills the room as well-dressed guests mill about, chatting, tasting hors d'ouvres brought around by liveried servers, and shaking hands on agreements.
An exquisitely-dressed older woman greets you as you enter, though in addition to her Victorian-era fashion, she is, curiously, wearing an orange scarf loosely wrapped around her head.
No one is quite dancing yet—now is the time for socializing, and making the sorts of connections that the upper crust of society trade in.
Some among the assembled watch you with interest: a pair of nonhumans dressed in black, one in ceremonial armor; then also, a sweet-faced woman with beautiful red hair and a sad smile.
There's a number of faces. I sometimes feel a little out of sorts in large environments like this, but I suppose it's good to push one's self out of their comfort zone at times.
I heard that we might not get a chance to see First Keeper Naarabot, though. Which is a shame. She's being kept rather busy I hear.
[She'd honestly rather be dancing but Wednesday suspects that this is Not Quite The Point.]
Influence...?
[Like on Instagram?
[Is there anyone around who looks like they'd be receptive to talking to a small, lost-looking pink child who is also apparently a priest now? What do priests even do.
[ You approach the two Martians. The shorter one speaks up with an odd, languid-sounding accent that also sounds... vaguely Australian? But actually. ]
Oh, g'day, there. I'm not often approached by priests, you know!
[ you don't recognize anyone particularly! apart from your fellow visitors.
the nonhumans do look delighted to see you, though; they look a lot like Paloma, in fact. the taller one in ceremonial armor speaks up first, in a languid sort of accent that once again sounds a bit like Paloma's. ]
Oh, it seems like we haven't scared all of them off, darling!
[ You approach the two Martians. The shorter one speaks up with an odd, languid-sounding accent that also sounds... vaguely Australian? But actually. ]
Oh, that's rare. We're infamous, after all! I'm Ataleetsu Illmatar, and this is my spouse, Vainamoinen Illmatar. Who might you be?
[looks down at her own garbs, she's out here with black rubber gloves and black rubber boots, and a white coat, realizing that maybe she should try to pretend she knows what's going on]
THE GRAND BALLROOM
You find yourself entering a lavishly-appointed ballroom aboard the Duchess of Argyll aether-flyer. From a trio of musicians in the corner, classical music fills the room as well-dressed guests mill about, chatting, tasting hors d'ouvres brought around by liveried servers, and shaking hands on agreements.
An exquisitely-dressed older woman greets you as you enter, though in addition to her Victorian-era fashion, she is, curiously, wearing an orange scarf loosely wrapped around her head.
No one is quite dancing yet—now is the time for socializing, and making the sorts of connections that the upper crust of society trade in.
Some among the assembled watch you with interest: a pair of nonhumans dressed in black, one in ceremonial armor; then also, a sweet-faced woman with beautiful red hair and a sad smile.
There is a Heliogram Station here.
From here you can go to the lower deck, the observation deck, the dining room, the outer deck, or the lecture hall.
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If she doesn't see anyone she recognizes, or at least after speaking with them, she'll approach the red-head. ]
Enjoying the mingle...?
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I heard that we might not get a chance to see First Keeper Naarabot, though. Which is a shame. She's being kept rather busy I hear.
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[ her expression darkens, a little. ]
...well, I... she's been contentious as of late, too. I don't understand her, anymore...
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[ That's definitely a reaction. ]
I'm truly sorry to hear that. How do you mean she's been different? Did something pass between you both?
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[She'd honestly rather be dancing but Wednesday suspects that this is Not Quite The Point.]
Influence...?
[Like on Instagram?
[Is there anyone around who looks like they'd be receptive to talking to a small, lost-looking pink child who is also apparently a priest now? What do priests even do.
[Should she bless someone?]
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But, you are aware that perhaps Martians might be interested in talking to you? Or there's a really nice-looking lady with red hair. ]
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[Kaguya seems to be talking to the nice-looking woman so she'll talk to one of the martians?]
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Oh, g'day, there. I'm not often approached by priests, you know!
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[ A small wave. ]
Hey.
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This is - a little unusual, isn't it?
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I'd say this isn't a typical game though, that's for sure.
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Wifi is gonna look around to see if he recognizes anyone before greeting the pair of nonhumans first.]
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the nonhumans do look delighted to see you, though; they look a lot like Paloma, in fact. the taller one in ceremonial armor speaks up first, in a languid sort of accent that once again sounds a bit like Paloma's. ]
Oh, it seems like we haven't scared all of them off, darling!
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[???]
Is there a reason I should be scared? Did you do something creepy?
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Oh, no, no, we're delightful company! If you think so you've got outstanding taste. It's just we've got a bit of a war on.
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1/2
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[dressed like a Mad Scientist, with some Steampunky flavor such as goggles on her forehead and a belt of random vials and tools]
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[pouts]
Silencchi didn't get a fancy dress...
[booooooooooooooooooooooooo this heart suxxxxxxx]
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gonna talk to the nonhumans]
Excuse me. Who are you?
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Oh, that's rare. We're infamous, after all! I'm Ataleetsu Illmatar, and this is my spouse, Vainamoinen Illmatar. Who might you be?
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Silence of future is now. I...
[looks down at her own garbs, she's out here with black rubber gloves and black rubber boots, and a white coat, realizing that maybe she should try to pretend she knows what's going on]
I am a scientist...
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Well, exciting!
[ they put out their hands, palms down, as if expectant of some gesture. ]
What sort of science do you do, Silence of future is now?
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