[Hungry Tides Restaurant, Ciadel] Schmeerskahoven! (Open)

Laykalar bobbed along the streets of the Enkindlers' most holy relic, restored to its former glory by the efforts of the multitude, the Enkindled races working in unity. Most traces of wartime damage had been swept away, just as the gentle waves would smooth out imprints in the sands of Kahjean beaches. He should have found the Citadel, illuminated in the afterglow of all those appendages that had shaped and restored it, wonderous and awe-inspiring, as he usually did, but today he was in an uncharacteristically subdued mood.

A distressing fate appeared to have befallen an acquaintance.

There was nothing he was equipped to do about it, and he feared that the additional stress to his already over-burdened employer might prove too much for her. It would be most alarming if their plans fell through due to events such as these! He had himself been engaged this morning in further prepartions for the planned dining event that he knew would be his greatest challenge. It would be both the true measure of his service to the honourable Rondor, and an opportunity to demonstrate the success of his unconventional approach to understanding the galaxy's people. His studies had been less intense of late, something which had been noted in conversation with his fellow acolyte Gassilisol this very morning. Being a fully invested member of the scholarly community, invited to meetings in the Inner Sanctum, and working aboard the station besides, he had less time to simply expand his spiritual horizons. And now such distressing news about a friend. There was nothing he could do but wait for further information. For the first time since leaving Kahje, he was constrained in his ability to learn and thrive, held back by barriers even he couldn't surmount. He felt rather small.

To any outsider, his problem was obvious. Even Laykalar's boundless tide of enthusiasm had no means to overcome his current circumstance, a circumstance universally hated among sapient beings (in ironic validation of the hanar's philosophies); the circumstance of being unable to do anything useful.

Now he was looking for nourishment, and perhaps emotional support. If Snow had been proximate this afternoon, he would have spoken to the human. As it was, he had gone wandering, hoping the sacred station and its cosmopolitan population might cheer him. He'd taken his Nokatok doll from his Habitation Pod aboard ship, and carried it with him now. Idly, he pondered the varied significance of idols and symbolic representations in religious practice, superstition, and play. He tucked the doll in tight with a tentacle.

He drifted into Hungry Tides, his mood buoying just slighting at the thought of good food. Maybe there would be flimmshimmishin...

Around the same time as Laykalar entered the Hungry Tides another hanar drifted out of an office behind the counter and confronted one of the (oddly intimidating for a restaurant) drell employees. Its voice modulator either absent or off, as it communicated with its natural bioluminescence.

And judging by the rapid and quick pulsing of these lights, it was not pleased at all.

Quylid didn't notice Laykalar enter (it seemed to barely remember that it was in a restaurant) and continued to 'yell' at its employee completely unaware to its surroundings.

The proprietor appeared to be engaged in what Laykalar imagined must be stimulating conversation, so he drifted over to another customer who was likewise being ignored. To a hanar, evolved for 360-degree environments and able to take in stimulus from multiple directions simultaneously, there was little need to fixate exclusively on one person, unless the matter were of great importance - or one was trying to be rude to those excluded. Laykalar didn't believe the proprieor to be rude, and so imagined something very important must be under discussion.

He would pass the time being sociable.

The other customer was moored near a shimmering screen display advertizing both the menu and the owner's credentials. Its body in contrast was dim, the subtle flashes that were the hanar equivalent of subvocalized sounds or reflexive mutterings totally absent. Laykalar pulsed politely, a greeting with an undercurrent of friendly curiosity. The other hanar, a speciman coloured an odd shade of near-blue, was not someone known to him.

"Greetings. May this one intrude upon the other? It would welcome an opportunity for structured discussion!"

The other hanar shifted slightly. There was a long pause, the other remaining dim and unresponsive. Laykalar was about to try again, when the other hanar suddenly spoke, its voice bright and intense, almost shockingly so.

"This one brings word of the impending union. That is its purpose and calling. Does the other recognise the converging of currents that herald the final enkindlement? Does the other dim its voice in awe at the implications, and does it tremble at the knowledge of its unworthiness?"

Laykalar felt the familiar thrill of discovery, shining through the murkiness of his depression, raising his mood. How fascinating! This individual was an adherent of one of the newer branches of Enkindler Doctrine - The Power Of Storms Most Inspirationally Spawned. He had heard of this tradition, only newly split from one of the larger post-Darkening sects, but had yet to meet with one of its followers. Their assertion, which his earlier studies into sexual binaries had drawn his attention to, was that the Illuminated Shepard, She Who Split The Waters, would return from her unknown fate at the end of the Great Storm, alive and vital, and that she would mate with the Wise and Terrible Javik, Last of the Protheans. As the two last and greatest Enkindlers, their mating would bring a close to the era of imperfect lifeforms; their inevitable spawn would represent a new race of Enkindlers, surpassing the old, who would stand amid the stars, all of creation cowering at their perfection and fearful of the terrible truths they would reveal.

Laykalar desired to speak to this other more than ever.

"This one is pleased to engage with the other! It represnts a scholarly community that has docked with the Citadel for the purpose of pursuing spiritual discovery and intellectual improvement! It would be grateful for any insights the other might offer regarding Enkindlement".

That he "represented" the scholars only in the sense that divorced him from any authority went unspoken.

Lights lashed across the other hanar's lower bell as it snapped dismissively.

"This one does not float in unison with the impure".

Most hanar would have cooly disengaged by this point and moved off, secure in the knowledge that the other was of a heretical sect and thus beyond reason, but Laykalar wasn't most hanar.

"May this one inquire as to what the impending union represents to the other?"

This, she was willing to answer.

"The Wise and Terrible Javik, like the tempest on the ocean, holds power beyond control; all must fall in the wake of his Mastery, his Power, his Scathing Word. He can be tamed only by the one Ascended Mortal whose power equals his own, the Illuminated Shepard, whose light will calm and sooth, Her strength and foresight the Blue Hole of the Tempestuous Atoll*, the One who allowed the Last Voice of the Protheans to speak. Her strength, in unison with his, bends the greater encompassing to its unified will. Is the other prepared for the union? Will the other be left beached and dry or will it submerge, voice dimmed in submission to the Last of the Enkindlers? Will it look upon their spawn in awe and in fear?"

Her voice was so bright, Laykalar imagined the proprieter must be paying attention now, though it would be rude of him to check.

Behind them, a tall hanar in a rich pink that was near-red glided in, a drell bodyguard keeping pace. Skin that red suggested specialized nutrient intakes that must have been expensive this far from Kahje. Laykalar kept part of his attention fixed on the interesting new arrival while the rest of it continued to stare, fascinated, at the zealot.

"This one would be most interesting in learning more! This one's face name is Laykalar".

"All faces are to be stripped away in the impending Storm. This one may be addressed as Sounds From The Flooded Hollows"


(* Eye of the Storm)

It was the last day of their visit to the Citadel, Skylar and Taleeze were just wandering around, discovering odd places and whatnot. So much to see and to talk about. Tonight they'd jump the relay for Nevos finally.

“Oh, look, a hanar restaurant! You know how much I like sea food and they are excellent sushi designers. Want to check it out? I am hungry!”
Without waiting for an answer, Taleeze dragged Skylar along and inside. And of course, Taleeze always was hungry.

There were only few patrons, a hanar was silently conversing with some drell and another hanar with… a doll? Was floating about, seemingly in a conversation with one of its kind.
A hanar with a doll.

Taleeze had not much of an idea how to define a hanar’s age but he … it…seemed fairly regular sized, not a kid at least.

There where only hanar and drell present at this point but the tables and installations were suitable for other species as well. There was a buffet with variations of seafood, mostly terran imports, which peaked Taleeze’s interest. “Oh, look, what do we want? It all looks delicious.” she asked Skylar

"I could conceivably be persuaded," Skylar joked, as she was half-ushered, half-dragged towards the restaurant. She had noted a moment or two of impulsive enthusiasm from Taleeze back on Illium when they had first met, but so much of their time then had been spent at work, in familiar surroundings. The Citadel, with its sights and sounds and attractions (and, often, aromas of food - Skylar envied the biotic metabolism) from all over the known galaxy, was a revelation in the level of excitement and curiosity her lover could maintain for all things new and varied. She didn't resist - despite now and then finding herself just a little spent in the late afternoons (Taleeze wasn't oblivious, and seemed to moderate herself accordingly; Skylar reflected with a grin that the asari did have a convincing reason for ensuring her human partner had energy to spare in the evenings), the experience was worth it.

"'Hungry Tides'," she read off the storefront, from the English text that the reactive sign obligingly morphed into, alongside the flowing script of High Thessian, at their approach. She knew a few basic characters of hanar origin, but nothing she recognised on the restaurant's primary sign; she wasn't even sure it was the same dialect as the minute vocabulary she had learned from Nos Astra's hanar enclave in the Gemstone Lakes.

Inside she followed Taleeze's lead to the buffet, after a brief glance around, and looked over a menu screen, which likewise shifted into a form she could read.

"Coho salmon, you might quite like that," she suggested. "Although if you fancy something Kahjean, don't hesitate. Eafina's got quite a repertoire of dishes from her father's side of the family, suitably tweaked for consumption by our ungainly mouths. Her dinner invitations have given me rather a fondness for hanar cuisine."

An asari and a human - both unknown to him - had entered the establishment. Laykalar, though, barely paid them any attention. He had been shocked by his fellow hanar's revelation. To expose herself in the manner she had, revealing her soul name openly, to a stranger... he rocked back, alarmed. And yet there was also the familiar thrill - the thrill of contact with the alien, the exotic. How fascinating! The incredible rudeness on display was so un-hanar, it was like he was indeed speaking to an alien being, and was it not his highest purpose to learn all he could about alien perspectives? This was a rare opportunity!

He reasoned that the other hanar hadn't seemed hostile in her rudeness. She was merely very blunt. That was the term used by most of the asaroid races: blunt. (The visuals the term implied were very interesting - he should study them). Blunt did not imply hostility, he knew, though it might imply impatience. Mostly it represented a disregard for decorum and sensitivity - that was blasphemous and unacceptable to hanar, of course, but Laykalar had long ago accepted that in the wider galaxy there existed far greater tolerance for incorrect speech.

He steadied himself, feeling a rush of what passed for adrenaline at the prospect of continuing to address this incredible hanar.

"This one believes the other might be too familiar in its demeanour; it hopes it will not offend by suggesting so!"

Sounds From The Flooded Hollows was watching him, apparently disinterested. He decided to think of her as "Justicar", in honour of her blue colouration and the strength of her absolute conviction. He drew this face name over her in his mind, shielding her soul most decourously. How embarrassing that she should be so shameless!

"Has the other noted the asari?" Justicar said. "The asari are heralds of the true union. Like these ones, they were touched by the Protheans. Does the other understand how the asari seeks to fulfil the destined union by mating with a human, as the Wise and Terrible Javik will mate with the Illuminated Shepard? Does the other observe the winds that will herald the tempest?"

She gestured to the asari and its human companion, which she had apparently decided was the asari's mate. Laykalar hadn't seen the pair on the Citadel before, so could not ascertain if she was correct.

“Aw, now I feel like second rate!” Taleeze frowned, but only playfully. “I have yet to be invited to a dinner at Fina’s! Well, I guess I still have to work on the ladder abit but it seems like a worthwhile goal.” She chuckled.

“The salmon rolls it is, and that algae carpaccio aaand… some of these.” She loaded some brown algae wraps with what looked like fish and clam filling to her plate. The kiosk summed it up and Taleeze added a cup of water, curiously observing what Skylar was picking.

There were a few tables suited for asari or humans near the storefront window, which was nice. Taleeze picked one, quite close to the two conversing and awkwardly silent gesturing hanar.

She was somewhat familiar with the species, Nevos being the water planet it was. There had been quite many travelers – hanar never called it vacations for some strange reason – and even a few residents, mostly diplomats and sales people. She even had worked for a hanar resort for some time. Also, and that would probably count as the seen-it-all, she had met Blasto at the BlastoCon on Illium.

So she sat and started munching her rolls. “Oh, nice, thanks for the tip, Sky!” From her position she could watch the street beyond the window and the two hanar. It was like watching a lightshow without the music. It almost looked like as if one of them was pointing at her.
The other one was still explaining the universe to his drell obviously.

"I'm sure you will be, in time," Skylar assured Taleeze. "She doesn't cook often - hanar dishes, at least her style, involve a lot of preparation time, and you know how busy she keeps herself." She chuckled. "But keep it quiet. You know how quickly gossip goes around backstage, as soon as it got out, she'd be beset by every dancer and escort there 'just happening' to be in the neighbourhood whenever she set the table." She winked at the asari. "The old 'if I tell you, I have to kill you' line seems a bit extreme... but let me know if you ever have the urge to spread the news around, and I'll make sure you're kept too busy to talk until the urge passes. Hm?"

She blew a kiss, then looked down at the buffet thoughtfully.

"I'll join you with that salmon," she agreed. "Can't very well not, since it was my idea. And that carpaccio will be new to me, if you'd be kind enough to share a bite? I think... this looks interesting." She scooped up what appeared to be some sort of cross between gourmet seafood and some kind of mollusc, holding the serving spoon up to get a whiff of its aroma before depositing a healthy serve on her plate. With a glass of raiin tonic - a bitter taste to humans, but one she found oddly intriguing - she followed Taleeze to a table, and set about their meal.

"Do you have a favourite non-native cuisine?" she asked idly.

Justicar began to move, drifting toward the couple with apparent purpose. Intrigued and slightly alarmed, Laykalar began to follow. As he went, he snagged a few packets of hithchis brine with a free tentacle; there were few places that offered samples as good as those at the Hungry Tides, and he was becoming worried that he might not have the time tonight to enjoy a full meal. That would be unfortunate.

With the proprietor still engaged - the discussion a private one - Laykalar felt that it was his responsibility to uphold the required standard of etiquette. Justicar was definitely moving toward the asari and the human, no doubt to interrogate them, and Laykalar feared she would be less than humble in her discourse. It would be most distressing if her language should give these aliens an unfortunate opinion of hanar; perhaps it might even damage his people's reputation!

He had been learning how to take responsibility for the blunt and uncouth in recent weeks, teaching various displaced children how to cultivate a more civilized air as part of his work for Leaving the Ducts. What fascinating discussions he'd had with them, if often slightly alarming in their lack of sophistry! He decided he should think of Justicar in the same way, as a child denied the appropriate lessons in correct speech and manners. Slightly panicked as he watched her bear down on the couple, he increased his speed to head her off.

To an onlooker, it might have resembled an oddly elegant balloon race.

Talezze held two fingers in front of her lips, the asari sign for ‘lips are sealed’.
“I sure won’t talk about it! But I surely hope I’m not just any dancer for you!” She pouted.
“You’re just using me and then toss me for the next younger asari!”

She playfully bumped her hip with Skylar and laughed, catching the blown kiss with her lips.
“Kay, I get that, but don’t complain when I feel the urge to talk about Fina’s cuisine all the time suddenly!”
~~~~

“Here you go, try!” Taleeze pushed the plate with the thin slices of the spongy algae cuts a bit more towards Skylar. There were just arranged with a light vinaigrette and a creamy dip on the side.

“What cuisine do I like… I was discussing with a friend of mine, Lia, when I visited my mom on Lusia. I appears that I a really getting to know a lot of human forms of cooking that I like. She suggested Italian and I really like a lot of the ingredients. If it has remotely to do with seafood, you know I’ll like it. I used to go with a lot of salariasari cooking before you humans introduced yourself. Salarian ingredients but spiced up to our tastes.

What I like about human cuisine is the incredible diversity. All of us out there had centuries of arranging a cross cooking and blending. Your cuisine is a clear indication that you still are much more diverse. Also you have large oceans and therefore have great dishes with seafood.”

Taleeze could see the two jelly baloons seemingly drifing their way. She raised a brow and nodded in the hanar's direction to make Skylar notice.

Stopping at a respectable distance - hanar were so tall that mooring too close would make a biped uncomfortable, forcing them to crane their neck - Laykalar bubbled a cheerful greeting. Someone skilled at deciphering the speed and intensity of the subtle lighting lashing across his body might detect a slight note of panic, or at least an awkward self-awareness that was really quite unusual for Laykalar.

"Greetings! This one offers apologies for any interruption. It does not intend to disturb the others, but it notes that its own respectable companion is eager to introduce itself. This one has not seen the others before, and wonders if they are regulars at hanar eateries?"

He shimmered happily, pleased with his quick thinking. Hopefully, his fellow hanar should have registered the implication: it would be discourteous to make assumptions regarding how comfortable these aliens were with hanar questioning. They might not want to be pestered, and might be put off should Justicar be too assertive.

"No, you're the only dancer for me," Skylar grinned.

She tasted the food Taleeze offered, and "mm"ed appreciatively while listening to her.

"Ah, Italian," she nodded. "Brilliant. How is Lia, settling in? Good to know." She finished a salmon roll, and looked out across the 'street', glancing at Taleeze now and then. "Did you know, there's a theory that seafood was a key ingredient in us becoming 'us'? Our development of sapient-level brains depended largely on the nutrient intake made possible by accessing all manner of foods, through fire and tools and such - but that had to begin in some way accessible to early humans without that evolved level of intelligence. Harvesting from shores and rivers, the theory goes, is what gave them the leg up to start growig bigger brains, and thus embarking on the long ladder to mastering important things, like the wheel and spaceflight and getting involved with asari." She winked. "So the theory goes, anyway - I recall there being some debate, it's obviously a period where evidence is rather thin on the ground."

She glanced around at Taleeze's indication, and straightened when she spotted the approaching hanar pair.

"Greetings in kind," she replied - a phrasing she had picked up at home, which she understood would be a courtesy appreciated by most hanar; the cultures that more frequently took to travel outside their own space, anyway. She had interacted with enough hanar to notice the one addressing her was 'speaking' rapidly - or so the bioluminescence appeared, anyway - but for all she knew, it was simply an 'accent', or just the difference between the measured, wary manner of the negotiators she tended to meet on the job, and a hanar of whatever walk (drift?) of life this one happened to be.

"Skylar Sinclair," she introduced herself, and gestured to her companion, "and Taleeze Driana, travellers passing through the Citadel, bound for Nevos. Where there are indeed quite a number of hanar establishments?" she asked Taleeze, half-remembering details from earlier conversations.

Taleeze nodded at Skylar’s introduction.
“Greetings and clear waters. Yes, business travelers indeed.” She noted that the hanar had not introduced himself, which could be seen as impolite but the guy seemed fairly hectic and his intrusion was a bit unconventional for a hanar.

“I’d not say I am a regular at hanar establishments, but as Skylar pointed out, Nevos is a world of huge and many oceans, quite a few hanar live there or come for recreational purpose. So we have of course a wide variety of restaurants that offer hanar cuisine and are directed at hanar. Nevos is famous for great seafood in general after all, a preference the asari share with the hanar.” For a moment she thought about telling how she used to strip for hanar audiences in their resorts but decided against it for now. After all she had no idea ho prude this particular example may be.

She now was curious about that other hanar who seemed so eager to introduce itself. Somehow you could just never know what went on inside their heads.

"This one has long been interested in comparing the perspectives of hanar and asari" he said happily. "It has always believed that greater comprehension of overlaps such as that noted by the other will be of benefit to these ones' respective peoples. This one is in fact studying such matters at present. It respectably offers greetings. It is known as Laykalar".

Having seemingly exhausted whatever patience had held her back from speaking, Justicar interrupted, her voice melodious but her tone intense. "Do the others float prepared for the coming union? Does their anticipation of the Final Enkindlement inform their own bonding? Will the others offer up their spawn in honour of the Binding of the Tempest to the Most Illuminated?"

Laykalar pulsed, a little desperate.

"This one offers apologies for any discourtesy. Its momentary companion is not of a widely recognized sect".

Justicar said nothing.

If he were human, Laykalar would be blushing profusely at the impropriety. It appeared he would be spending much of the conversation performing damage control.

A youngling and a preacher, interesting! Hanar were the most fascinating people with their strong predisposition for religious believes but you just never knew what you gor yourself into with them.

“Nice to meet you, Laykalar. You are traveling students? The Citadel is the perfect place for that I would say. If you want to talk, just join us. The food here is good and we wouldn’t mind a chat, would we?” Taleeze looked at Skylar. Encouraging a hanar to go on about his believes could be dangerous business. The human didn’t seem to object.
But obviously Taleeze had taken the two hanar as a couple with a common interest.

“The exchange of philosophies is done best over not too heavy food and light beverages, so my old Matriarch in grade school used to say when she used the lunch brake for an additional lecture. So what’s this sect about and how is it connected to asari?”

"Clear waters, Laykalar," Skylar nodded, adopting Taleeze's greeting. "Not at all, please join us."

Laykalar's companion took her somewhat aback - even the most determined and cutthroat (or the hanar equivalent of a throat) hanar representatives she had battled in court and boardroom on Illium maintained at least the pretense of their peoples' careful courtesy. These sudden, abrupt inquiries, without even a perfunctory 'this one begs the other's indulgence to broach a delicate subject' was... not unwelcome, as such, but quite surprising.

"Um, our spawn?" she repeated, bemused. Taleeze seemed to have more of a handle on the conversation; privately, she wondered if offering one's spawn to the Most Illuminated, or whichever it was, was like getting them into a good school, and needed to be arranged well in advance. Probably not, from context.

"This one would indeed be interested in joining the others; it most humbly presents its gratitude for the invitation".

He moored himself in a comfortable position at the table, noting their choice of meals. He was swiftly warming to this alien couple, particularly the asari, whose manner was courteous and whose language was both conversational and structurally formal; a pleasing combination. Perhaps by immersing himself in discussion with these intelligent travellers, he could place his mind at ease.

So long, he reminded himself, as Justicar retained at least some semblance of decorum.

The human, with that strange fibrous growth of hair that marked her people as such an exotic race, had seemed surprised by the other hanar's outrageously blunt manner, but Laykalar reflected that he himself might appear almost as unconventional. Between the doll he still clutched against his body and the packets of brine he had appropriated, he must look distressingly eccentric! He supposed he couldn't blame her for being slightly alarmed. He wondered if either of his new contacts had encountered the hanar musician who wore the head-covering, during their time on the station...

"This one arrived at the Citadel several months ago. It has been immersing itself in study of the Many Voices which in chorus illuminate the cosmos, so as to gain insight into where it might improve its understanding of the potentialities with which the Enkindlers gifted the recipients of their attentions. This one believes that now is the time for these ones to integrate more readily into the Citadel community. It has been greatly humbled by the opportunity, and by the many alien perspectives it has encountered!"

As he outlined his purpose on the station, and alluded to the almost overwhelming wonder of the last few months, he actually found himself feeling emotionally unsteady. A human might have used the word "choked". He played with his Nokatok doll, by reflex.

"All facets of the cosmic consciousness will unite in truth with the realization of the impending union" said Justicar, in apparent agreement with him. She hadn't answered the human or the asari directly; or perhaps this was her way of answering, and she was using his own introduction to generate an argument for her interpretation of the questions? Like all hanar, she would be comfortable with conversation on multiple tiers, incorporating discussion between more than two individuals.

"The time for spawning is near" she opined, "Soon all faces will be stripped away, leaving souls bare before the Last of the Enkindlers, ready to reflect the singular truth of their greatness".

"It asks pardon; it does not know the other" said Laykalar, quickly.

It was only upon Skylar’s remark that Taleeze noted that the ‘Spawn’ question may indeed could be understood as quiet personal. She exchanged an amused look with her partner and put a leaf of the carpaccio in her mouth.

Taleeze listened as he told his story, realizing at the mention of “Leaving the Ducts” who this hanar may actually be working for, having met Michelle just the other night at the BlueShift.

“Hm.” Taleeze mused, having more troubkle than a hanar to follow multiple stands of conversation, especially so different ones.
“What is this time of spawning supposed to mean? I think I have trouble grasping your concept.” Not that she would totally rule out ‘spawning’ with Skylar but it wasn’t an immediate concern for sure!

Towards Laykalar she added with a smile ”Oh, I thought you two were… well, all this spawning talk probably, I am sorry. Anyway, I think we may have a common acquaintance; I just met Miss Rondor the other night at a party, I think this is the charity you were mentioning, right?”
She decided to ask something finally, to move the conversation away from spawn.
“What’s the purpose of this doll you have there, if I may ask? I noticed it earlier. It's nice but seems rather unusual. Does it have a spiritual meaning?”

Skylar nodded amiably, if a little distractedly, toward the other hanar's... well, 'preaching', there was no other word for it. She was aware the otherwise rather introverted species had collectively made something of a name for it, although her personal experience was limited; Nos Astra's vocally devout hanar were 'encouraged' to share their beliefs via a subsidised HV channel maintained by the authorities, with the unspoken understanding that the trade-off was that they wouldn't do it elsewhere. Aside from rare instances of particularly determined evangelicals, it seemed to work. This was a new experience for her.

"That's... fascinating," she managed, wondering which impending union was about to happen. Illium's newsnets had been full of drummed-up excitement over the bonding between Tav Kar and Magister Heyla, but she doubted corporate celebrity marriages were the subject of intense discussion in hanar seminaries. She gave Laykalar a smile, not wanting to seem discourteous, and wished she had met Michelle more substantially than a few words in passing, if only to have something to talk about that didn't involve singular truths.

"Didn't know there were so damn many hanar restaurants", Snow thought as he entered the fifth restaurant in his search for Laykalar. "Hungry Tides", muttering under his breath as the charity worker slowly walked in, heading to what appeared to be a waiter/waitress?? Snow could never tell with the hanar, in fact the only thing that he knew about the hanar was that their customary polite nature masked a great deal, an inquisitive mind in Laykalar's case. But the normally upbeat young hanar was a bit subdued lately. And for once, Miss Rondor didn't need to put Snow up to this, he decided to find Laykalar on his own initiative.

As Snow placed an order for a tea and a Kahje seafood dish, the red hood, clad in his dark crimson jacket, black trousers, and work boots began to look around, trying to spot Laykalar, or hear the luminous yet eager voice that was a fixture at Leaving the Ducts, "Hell of a way to spend a day," musing to himself as he spotted two hanar talking to a blueback smiler and her human companion. And one of the hanar was carrying a toy doll, before the war Snow might have had a chuckle at the sight, but now, "I guess we all take comfort in familiar things", the ex-salvager looking at his red coat, trying to figure out the why behind his concern for his hanar colleague as he sat down two tables apart, his grey eyes watching the scene with detatched interest.