eldest

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

"You and Lotus are respectively numbers five and six. So I suspect the question is, is this your first time being kidnapped?"

Her head appears from the side of the screen to peer owlishly at you, tilted.

"You are in my care. The conditions of that care reflect on me. It would be improper if the lady Lotus and her... hm." She frowns as she searches for a word. "Companion. Her companion were not treated with the respect they deserve, even in captivity. Now. My job is to do improper things, when there is a need, but there isn't one here."

She raises an eyebrow, and then slides back behind the screen fully.

"And so, your training, safety, and other such things one does for those in their care fall to me. There's a famous story of the heir to House Kemaal being taken captive, and the next day the responsible party hired the family's swordsaint to continue his training during the negotiations for his return. That is the honorable and just thing to do, because you are not my enemy, you are my prisoner. And so. Respect due to the lady Lotus of Tranquil Waters, daughter of the goddess Sapphire Mother of Lotuses."

There's a final shuffle of cloth, and then Piripiri folds the screen to one side, a deep bow and outstretched arm presenting Lotus.

She is veiled. It would be improper to leave one of the cloth unveiled, and so there is a azure translucent cloth across the lower half of her face, covering bright lips painted a shiny copper, in turn parted around rainbow layers of fine silk scarves muffling anything she might say. Turquoise is painted on about her eyes, a contrast to the warm brown.

Turqoise also sparkles against her skin, a shimmering dress hugging her form, accenting curves of the hip, the chest, the thigh without demanding the attention. A black, translucent overrobe covers it, accented with embroidered pink petals across the body. It was likely meant to look like they're flying about in a breeze, but here they float on the blue, guiding the eye in one curve up the demigoddess. Overlarge, flowing sleeves lend a fluid grace to her pose, the robe loose enough that her shoulders are left bare, skin exposed. Heavy obsidian beads form a bracelet around each wrist and a choker about the neck, glinting in the afternoon sun filtering in through the windows. She's barefoot, and the black silken cord keeping her here fades into the background against the display.

She is the water that nurtures the fields, the water that quenches fire and rage. She is, for perhaps the first time, being celebrated for herself. And Piripiri sincerely hopes Han finds her radiant.

Hard Wired Island: The Future is a Foreign Country

“Lady’s Maria. S’not Yggdrasil.” Priyah tells you about the lady in the leg armor, while Piper’s letting Talbot shine. Then Priyah starts to click her tongue like a geiger counter in a hotzone. “Oof. BlackSun sec honch. Bad-bad-bad, way bad. Gone legit? Big doubt. Fronting muppet, bet.”

@Count Numbers

Piper never had a chance.

"Give me the cliffs notes." She's got the camera settled and is making sure the interview is well covered, but her attention is miles away. There's precious few things that will threaten her, as opposed to threaten her through things she loves, and she's just been nastily surprised by somebody who can do both and likely already knows who she is.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. She twitches, and gives in to the impulse, holding the camera in tentacles as she digs out a cigarette and lights up. She feels guilty, but in any other crowd this'd stand out even worse, and she needs something familiar.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

It's not a long walk.

Piripiri has very good maps of the area, and in less time than you'd think, you're at a small hunting lodge, a U of buildings facing a small pleasure garden and past it, a babbling creek. Han and Lotus are both checked over and disarmed before being taken to the master bedroom, all rich carpeting and mahogany furniture. There, Piripiri gets to work.

The rope comes off both of you, Piripiri sitting Han down on a chair to ensure that it is known she is doing nothing improper, before the rope goes back on around Lotus's left ankle, stretching out the double doors to the garden before being tightly tied to a well-rooted tree in what feels to both like a twist of essence. Lotus's new leash leaves her free to walk about most of the lodge and garden, but several yards short of the creek and the woods, as well as unable to go into the servant's quarters.

The restraint done, Piripiri pops up and gives a slight curtsy to Lotus. "Now, my lady, would you accept my help dressing you in more suitable attire?" There's a pointed glance at a silk screen against the wall. "I would hate for there to be any accusations of impropriety between yourself and Han."

Lotus's flustered and muffled squeaks and shy looks between Piripiri and Han eventually lead to a furiously blushing nod, at which point Lotus sets up the screen between the two of them and acts the slightly imperfect handmaiden.

Her voice comes from behind the screen. "New gag first, here, open wide dear. Now, Han. We're going to be here for a short while, is there anything I can do to make this more comfortable or pleasant for you? I'll be having the same conversation with Lotus later today, but I'd like to ask you first. Or any other questions I can answer for you, I'll try to, oaths and honor nonwithstanding." She's openly sincere and friendly. She wants to make this a worthwhile and enjoyable kidnapping, and she clearly thinks that's not a silly thing to want.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

She reacts instantly to your glum dismissal of her words, like a cat offered a mortal insult, arched back and furious pride.

"My name is Piripiri of House Seumul, I was trained by the masters of the Hundred Room School, and I lost the first thirty seven duels I fought. How-" whap "dare-" whap "you-" whap "besmirch my honor by implying i would cheapen yours. When I say that you, Han of the Highlands, have fought well, with a noble purpose and pride in your heart, cleverly and courageously, I mean every word!"

She brandishes the umbrella at you again, but does not strike this time. Instead, she leans on it, hands folded over like a cane, an unconscious imitation of her tutor.

"You fought selflessly for the defense of others and your homeland. You fought with righteous fury and joy in your heart. You fought with tenacity and creativity! You losing due to a lack of knowledge and skill, teachable things, does not erase these virtues."

A long pause, peering at you from behind that mask, making sure the words have sunk in.

"It was a deed worthy of song and story."

Hard Wired Island: The Future is a Foreign Country

"You want to stand out? Shoot the specialist interviews. You're going to have the, what did she call it, the S-tier competition for the big names. You want to talk to the C-suite at Yggdrasil? You're going to be fighting against Pedro Buffett. Man's a hack, but he's a hack with the weight of NBN fully behind him and that has pressure. Best interview of your life and nobody will give a shit because they already watched it at 6:30 after dinner."

She nods her head towards Dr. Talbot. "You can make her look relaxed, and I've got faith you can tease out the explanation of the science from her in plain talk. That's your strength, that's what you did when you covered Iconic and Crystal Garden's dispute over the meal-replacement shake patent." She'd done a bit of reading up on Piper on the train, it hadn't been enough for a good coverage but it was something. "You got people to care, because you showed them people worth caring about. Grab an interview with her, grab something with Constellation Systems about those floating twinkling squid they've got everywhere, work your way through the people that came here with exactly one thing and it's their best thing."

She shrugs. "Or if you've got a better plan, hit me. I've got some general plans for b roll of the various exhibits and the crowd, that one scary lady in leg armor from Yggdrasil's neat, we can ditch this and go chase the big boys. Or we can sit here and take somebody grateful to have a nice face to talk to."

A quick reminder that Piper is a charismatic presenter, focused on getting good interviews and human interest? They’ll be ambitious, preferring to take risks believing they can get forgiveness easier than permission. I don't think I posted that properly in here.

Priyah is a dedicated researcher, able to quickly source claims and do background research.

The problem with this job is one of your team members really dislikes you.

Hard Wired Island: The Future is a Foreign Country

"I'm here," and she gestures to the room at large, "on work. Mrs. Piper's the interviewer, her cameraman had an issue so I'm subbing in. If you want to do an interview with her, she'd be stoked and I'd very much appreciate it, because, you know, job. But I'm here," with a jab of her finger at the ground she's standing on, "because that's a very cool piece of art, and I am, at heart, a geek about cool art." She shrugs and doesn't blush, but does look a little bashful. Women with her build are usually pegged as enthused about beer and rugby. "Honestly, dealers choice, that's you, as to if you want me to be wearing my reporting hat at all now or later. I don't want to be uh, the other gentleman, and trap you in a conversation."

And that's the thing, she doesn't want to. Tell her to go away, and she will and hold no grudge. But also being earnest is about the best social skill she has, so she'll bring that to bear to maybe get her foot in the door properly, and get an insider's conversation flowing. Nothing's recording right now, but she can get a statement, make notes, or just call Piper over for an interview whenever.

Hard Wired Island: The Future is a Foreign Country

In any other situation involving this crowd, Elodie would be fucked.

But.

This is an art gallery. This is an art gallery on steroids, perhaps literally, with the richest people in existence all either having shown up or sent their regrets and a representative or family member, because for them it's about hobnobbing with the other hoity-toity people who come to these sorts of things to show off their reach and power by having the one and only blargleblah.

But Elodie came to these, before the arrest, for the art.

She's got her eye on the presumed head of security as a possible interview target for later on, when she knows what questions to ask, but right now she's going to instead cut into the CEO of Amazon's conversation (hi, I stole some of your stuff yesterday, a little voice in her head adds) with a fresh glass of water in each hand, offering one to the BioTan rep.

"At the risk of repeating what he's already said and taking a wild guess at the intended meaning behind it, the arch is the station as a ecological system, isn't it? A closed system that takes care of itself, with only minimal intake from outside? It's a lovely piece, I'm curious how the flow goes against gravity in that part. Elodie, by the way, I'm one of the press members here."

There you go, ma'am, two different outs to talking to somebody less of a bore, and maybe three if you've got a little voice in your ear putting her face, voice, and name to a bio. "How was prison" is a decent icebreaker. She'll get Piper over here for a formal interview in a second, warming up the interviewee is important.

Elodie does not see the discussion on the perfect city at the cost of a child to respond to, because she is working a job at this party full of people with perfect hair and perfect lives, built off Amazon Customer Service Ambassadors being given 31 hours a week, and genetic editing compilers being built in the fifth week of crunch straight. Maybe that's response enough.

Art History to get an in with the BioTan rep and see where she goes with it. Let me know if this is a spend or just having it gets me the access.

Hard Wired Island: The Future is a Foreign Country

Elodie arrives at the Pavilion with a list of b-roll goals and 25 kg of gear. A newsboy cap jammed over her hair, a press badge, and a willingness to fade into the background will hopefully get her far, especially when the news story to cover involves horses and the glittering high society showing off and admiring said horses. She carefully does not trip over an executive's indigo-feathered rooster on a leash while getting inside, so there's a possibility it even works.

Once she's there, though, she's got a list and she's going to be hammering her way down it. This is work, her immediate boss thinks she's a career threat, and her backup is eating popcorn and watching ancient, loud and badly dubbed cartoons in her earpiece. There's something here that somebody's already been put in a hospital for, she has no idea what the thing to chase is, and she's not even sure if she should be chasing it. Nothing about this sparks joy. So we're getting quick headshots and pans of people arriving, who's wearing what, the tiny horses that have managed to show off by assembling into a cheerleader's pyramid, complete with pompoms somehow, and maybe a few extra shots of the crowd in general. The sooner she's done here, the sooner she can work her way through the various exhibitions, which is likely where any investigative meat is going to come from.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Piripiri feels guilty, just a touch, as she slides her stance left, turning a head on counterblow into instead a slight parry, just past her and into the river. There is the need, when fighting, to always be aware of the risk of putting your all into a blow, and it's quickly demonstrated. Han's attack tries to burn away the river. The river, the water essence of the land, is indifferent, and quenches the fire and rage. She makes sure to grab the back of Han's shirt to prevent her from tipping over into the water after. Nobody does well when they suddenly have that much essence eaten up, and she wouldn't be shocked if Had hadn't been taught this.

Han seems to have not been taught a lot about her heritage, and if nothing else, she will do her best to leave one good mark upon the world in the wake of the dirty deeds of today.

*

And so Han and Lotus find themselves captives of the dread Dominion! Han, your hands are bound in front of you, with the same cord that also binds Lotus's hands behind her, just in front of you. Piripiri has not yet taken off her mask, and is carefully, reverently perhaps, adding layers to the gag on Lotus, never lifting her veils out of place, simply slipping the cloth under it one at a time. A soft stroke along the back of Lotus's neck after the last knot is tied, and then the spy turns to you.

A quick bow, respectful but not deferential, and a happy sigh, and then a noted lack of gag. "Thank you for the fight. It was well fought, and a joy."

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Piripiri is eleven and her first duel is finishing up. Fundamentals only, padded swords and basic moves, but the core of the styles were there, the water style facing her with flowing aggression, to her yielding defense, waiting for the opening. She'd lost, one swing opening her up for greater retribution and was battered out of the circle.

It didn't matter to her that she was short for her age, or that her opponent had most of a year on her, the lose still stung more bitterly than the bruise. She'd seen the fierce brightness years ago, the first time she saw a duel between daughters of dragons, and she'd wanted that clarity for herself.

She'd do better next time.

*

Piripiri is fourteen, and is losing a duel. Eleven is a lifetime ago, and so she's moved up from the fundamentals of swordsmanship to what could be in truth called Reed Style, bending to blows without breaking to them. Her opponent today is Aisha, who's taken to the Seabreeze in turn, all feints till one of them isn't, taking the measure of your enemy before taking them apart. Aisha finishes her last exchange and whips through a sequence of feints, tripping her and ending with the wooden sword at her neck.

*

Piripiri is sixteen, and winning a duel. The secret, she's found, is to think. That's really hard in fights, what with the red and the pain, but it's important because it's equally hard for everyone and she lacks the raw strength that other people have. The wooden swords are clashing, but the real fight is if she can figure out a trick that Kai can't simply power through. She's been very careful to make it look like the answer was no, and as he goes to strike her while she's cornered against the side of the ring, she hops over and kicks back with both legs, sending him tripping out of the fight.

*

Piripiri is nineteen, and has just won a duel. All she had to do was to finish the sequence, the same one that her opponant reads through and yields. They're using live blades, now, and a proper kit-out, and so the instructors were very clear about the expectation to yield rather than be maimed out of pride. She's the fifth ranked of the school, after winning this duel, and weaker physically and with essence than the next 15 people after her, so it's clear whose pride that was aimed at. But she takes a minute to breath in, still, and grin at Aisha, hugging her tight. It was a good fight, between good friends, and there's a radiant glow in that.

*

Piripiri is twenty three, and just lost a duel. Cathak Agata had the potential to be her direct command, and she'd made a point of putting up a good showing, while avoiding any of the dirtier tricks that would be unsightly, even if they failed to work, and harm Agata's reputation if they did. It's a balancing act, and as she knelt to yield, she saw the bright interest in her opponant's eyes. Agata wasn't fooled for an instant that this was all that Piripiri could give, and was very intrigued. The offer, after, was only a formality.

*

It is now, and Piripiri is winning a duel by losing it.

Han has had dust kicked in her eyes, her girlfriend danced with, and her dominion threatened, and as she rushes out of the smokescreen Piripiri is rushing to meet her. Answer her in kind, o daughter of dragons, rise to the challenge. Sing the song of your people as Piripiri has grown up singing, with blade and will. It will lose you the fight, for you do not see the trailing rope in the other hand, but you will exalt in defeat because the glory is in the clash.