[Citadel, Tayseri Ward] You Came Along, And Right Away I'm Stung (Closed)

The business with Minister Durana had concluded, and now was left the task of writing a detailed report, ready for Rondor's return. Finding the correct words was harder than he'd anticipated. In the meantime, though, there was time to squeeze in a favour for an acquaintance. So many appointments! Part of him was disappointed that his schedule had become so crowded. That it no longer allowed for the casual freedom to explore, which he'd so enjoyed after first disembarking. Rather than wander the hallowed halls of the Enkindlers' greatest stronghold, going wherever the current took him, he moved purposefully from duty to duty. It felt good, but it was also making him nostalgic for those whirlpool first weeks.

He was resting in his new apartment. It was a small affair, but it was half-flooded and certainly worth the rent money. He had decorated with mock sea-plants acquired from a stall in the market, along with various trophies of his time here - a lantern from his Halloween adventure, cards from children at Leaving the Ducts, the outfit he had brought for Snow, who had insisted on giving it back after the dinner, saying he couldn't possibly accept such a gift on a permanent basis (Laykalar was happily keeping it in reserve for when the human might need it again - maybe make it part of his leaving present?) Several of his fellow acolytes had visited, probably without telling the elders, and brought him items of interest. "Justicar" had visited too, bringing him a protective idol that would spare him from the imminent judgement should he address it correctly on a daily basis. He had placed that on a shelf and mostly forgotten about it.

Now he was waiting for his guest. He would have prepared an appropriate welcoming speech, but he still didn't know to which sect or tradition Quylid belonged. To ask would have been presumptuous. He would just have to make his fellow hanar feel welcome as best he could.

it is for hanar at least Quylid thought as it entered the building followed by its drell bodyguard. It wasn't thrilled about meeting its new 'protege' but it had gradually been learning that keeping a 'face' for public was important. Learning to deal with the rude creatures that inhabited the space outside the Primacy was... important. Deathly important if it wanted to stay within its station.

And it was intrigued by the polyp's... friends. It supposed is what it would call them.

"Knock on the door it" it pulsed to the drell. "You may wait outside the building since this one assumes it does not want to wait around in any damp environments."

The stony faced drell nodded and did so. Rapping its knuckles on the door.

With far too much excitement, but also a little trepidation, Laykalar pulsed over to the door. His security feature was coded for his tentacles' specific touch, a DNA recognition piece, along with a specific pattern of movement. It was standard for hanar dwellings on the ward, and it paid to take precautions. The door opened, letting in the less humid air of the outer station. Standing before him was the drell he had previously observed, and behind it was Quylid.

"This one offers its hospitality" he said cheerily. "It thanks the other for its timely arrival. This one has yet to finalize the precise appearance of its home environment, though it hopes the other will find this one's waters rich and clear".

It was a strange (to hanar) mix of ritual formality and surprisingly casual chatter.

He offered what aliens called the hanar bow, a gradual bobbing of the bell that displayed a cascade of sub-lingual information, the instinctive reassurance of a predatory yet highly social species. Around the periphery, he also spoke a few short words of friendly encouragement. It was a relief talking to fellow hanar, without fear that the translator would lose shades of meaning as it converted soundwaves into an approximation of his own speech. Since moving off of the ship, he had found that he keenly missed being around his own people. There was an irony there.

"It hopes the other did not have to travel far?"

A barely noticeable twitch of the elder hanar's tentacles showed how much it cared to the semi casual nature of Laykalar. But it composed itself quickly, bowing slightly to the polyp in return. At least it had gotten that right. "The other's apartment seems very 'adequate'" it said, peering inside. "It should be proud."

"It was a rather far distance, yes. This one's residence is in another ward after all. But it managed", it offered another bow. "The other need not concern itself with that however. Can it come inside now?"

Momentarily forgetting something it made a sideways glance at the drell. "It may leave now. This one shall meet it outside in perhaps a standard hour or so", it spoke dismissively. "It trusts it to not travel far."

With a slight nod the drell left the two hanar alone to their own devices.

Laykalar may have been flighty and all but unable to sit still, but he was perceptive in his way. Quylid was uncomfortable, and yet clearly committed to the meeting.

"May this one interest the other in a jeshwinquin pack? It appropriated a small supply from the acolytes' communal store prior to leaving ship". A slight flash of embarrassment. "It has been assured that such casual appropriation is no breach of protocol". He reached into a food preservation unit, extracting two feeding packs. The glowing labels provided nutritional information, brand identity and a moderately taxing word puzzle, cycling between the three in a soothing cycle that reproduced a hanar's primal signals indicating good fare. The liquid inside, created from a blend of several hard-to-catch fish from the equatorial archipelago of Favoured Skylight At Cloudbreak, was both tasty and added extra potency to one's toxins. Laykalar had his reasons for seeking the latter. He was going to try importing a live food supply.

"This one is glad the other has seen the benefit in these ones' meeting. It wonders how long the other has lived aboard the station? It must surely predate this one by some time!"

Then again, seeing the galaxy beyond Kahje had been his dream for as long as he could remember. There weren't many hanar who could say that. Perhaps too long away from home, and too little willingness to adapt and loosen the restraints of custom, had caused Quylid's lapses on Cerberus Daily News? As had become all too clear to him lately, the inflexible nature of his people's expectations could place them under unfortunate strain. One must learn to bend in various subtle ways, or one would snap alarmingly. As had seemingly happened with Quylid.

Quylid 'stared' at the jeshwinquin for a few brief moments. It wasn't really interested in feeding, having done so before it left its home to come here. A rather... foolish gesture in hindsight it realized. Hospitality, like all manners of etiquette were important to hanar. It would be very rude (no matter what it thought of the polyp's home in private) for it to turn down this gesture. So, with a mental sigh it gently reached for the container. Quylid would at least try to maintain its image for now.

"This one has been on this station for nearly two years now. It unfortunately is very busy running its businesses and has little time for socalization with others. This one presumes this is why issues keep springing up when this one deals with", it paused. Trying to think of a word that would not be considered offensive. "Non-hanar. And it is glad the other has agreed to help it." Quylid continued to look at Laykalar without even touching the food. "May this one ask a question too? How long has the other been here? Why did it choose to come to this work of the Enkindlers they call the Citadel?"

"This one has dwelt here since relay traffic from the Zahel Sea was cleared."

That wasn't strictly true. Much of his time, and certainly his living space, had been aboard the Greater Encompassing. It was obvious to anyone, though, that his true home had always been the station itself.

"As for why it chose to come here... it was fulfilling a dream". Cheerily, but with great respect, Laykalar probed at the underlying issue. "So much of non-hanar behaviour is alarmingly unstructured! It imagines adaptation is difficult for most". The helpful sympathy in his voice was, of course, a hundred percent genuine. "It was easier for this one; it has always dreamed of learning from other cultures. Immersing itself in this environment was fulfilling on a spiritual level. It suspects that it is simply unusual in many regards. It understands that the lack of structure must be troubling. One must feel surrounded by rudeness, by uncourteous and blasphemous behaviours! The hanar community here has always been smaller than it might be". There was a definite note of disappointment to his voice, at this point.

A pause. "Has the other considered Zakera Ward? These ones have a denser population there. It is curious why the other chose to establish itself in Tayseri".

Quylid was evidently not the sort of hanar who could easily remain unaffected by the ways of outsiders. Few of their people could.

Quylid hovered, its food untouched as it examined the polyp yet another time. It could not believe a single word of what it just said. It couldn't be genuine. It could not be genuine. No hanar would willingly come here of its own violation except either to marvel at the work of the enkindlers or for business. It did not like this at all. Was Laykalar some kind of rival? Some other player in the Light's game? Perhaps its very own replacement? No. No. It was a rival faction, one of the many lesser organizations always vying for control. That was why it was asking about Tayseri.

It shifted a little, suddenly uncomfortable. Could the food have been poisoned? Was there a hidden compactee somewhere in this household about to pop out and kill it dead? Or would it be Snow himself to do it?

compose yourself, fool. This polyp is harmless

It straightened up as much as a hanar possibly could and spoke, albeit its pulsing looked 'shaky', "It established itself in Tayseri because it was already a damaged ward under repair. It believed that it and its employers could help funnel in more profits to... aid in reconstruction of course. Why else wouldn't it?"

It shifted again, a bit more awkwardly now. "Perhaps it is time we start these lessons then?"

"This one would be glad too!" Laykalar felt a slight embarrassment; how foolish of him to forget that Quylid was a business owner, with little time at his tendrils!

Laykalar politely placed his finished pack to one side, and stood in an unconscious approximation of one of his elders aboard ship. "It asked the other because the most important concept in relations between these ones and their neighbours, it has come to believe, is fluidity. These ones are fluid by definition; they immerse in it, make their home in it, and their interiors lack the internal mineral support network of the other Enkindled races. These ones are free and unrestricted in movement, save by the deepest, most crushing depths".

This was offered in the manner of one spinning a wise but imaginative story,

"These ones can explore in multiple directions, take in stimulus from multiple planes without confusion. Other peoples can not. They seek freedom from their confines, from their lack of access to the vertical axis. One might argue that they are propelled, inspired, pushed into motion, by the desire to escape their restrictive awareness, their closed circles. These ones, as the most honourable Nothinyssis wrote in Essays On The Essential Singularity of Form, are a reverse of this model. These ones are fluid; thus they seek the security of structure. They form sects and cults to provide them with a mooring. These ones construct a frame of language and courtesy, as the Enkindlers permitted them to".

Laykalar stopped for a moment, leaning forward in a friendly fashion as though to impart a secret. Were he human, his eyes would be wide and bright.

"Did the other know that the humans have many myths regarding renegade deities or other beings gifting their race with such boons as fire? The others were gifted the means to break free of natural restraint, to alter their surroundings. They speak of "doors opening"; new directions made accessible. These ones do not yearn for that freedom; these ones inherited it at birth! These ones are compelled by restraint, by the closing of doors that might allow danger to strike. When these ones were Enkindled, the Enkindlers - in their most generous wisdom - bestowed upon these ones structure; the means to order thought and communicate it through Word. These ones, then, may be said to be the antithesis of the other races! These ones crave a framework of certainty, and the Enkindlers ensured that these ones might have the means to create it.

Of course, this is merely one interpretation".

Laykalar paused, waiting to see if Quylid would respond. The glow of eager anticipation made it clear that he was both excited and anxious for feedback.

Certainly, he had found Nothinyssis' work fascinating.