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2 yrs ago
built like a truck and out for revenge

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In The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide) → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Is this how all diplomatic relations go on Kanth-Aremek? Hell, is this how all diplomacy goes?

Itxaro listened patiently as the group argued, waiting for her time to interject. Nellara frustrated her most of all; to Itxaro, it seemed the Tekeri wanted to simply sever all ties with Silbermine, end things right there, and run off with their human prize while the two gathering armies clashed right on the border where the Jotunheim sat. Perhaps this was her intention, or maybe the animosity between their nations simply ran this deep. Human history was rife with border disputes used as casus belli, and she doubted things were different here. Maybe the Ascendency thought they had the upper hand now and she decided to plunge them into conflict. Either way, Itxaro wasn’t eager to get caught up in a medieval magic battle. She preferred to read about those, not participate in them.

Itxaro lowered both her voice and the volume on the translator to speak in some manner of privacy to Nellara. “Listen Nellara, I don’t know what is going on here, I admit that. I don’t know your plan, or Silbermine’s intentions, but there is a way to get out of this without bloodshed. There’s two armies on their way, which means war; whatever we have to offer you isn’t worth that. We have to work with Silbermine, or people will die. Just trust me on this, or at least go along and then decide, alright?” Of course, she did suspect Silbermine's intentions. But it was best not to say that within earshot of the Glen.

Vigdis wasn’t winning much favor in the doctor’s eyes either. Itxaro figured that if they had landed in 14th century Earth somehow, they’d have been burned at the stake as witches by now. Vigdis was dumping some serious heresy on Silbermine, and though they hadn’t started lighting the pyres yet, Itxaro feared that suggesting their gods weren’t actually hanging out in the sky wouldn’t go well for them. She treated the whole situation flippantly in Itxaro's eyes, as if lives, both theirs and the inhabitants of two nations, weren’t on the line right now. Itxaro strained against a scowl creeping onto her face but kept her composure. It all threatened to crack when one of Silbermine's knights cut Kerchak down with their tongue. If we were back home, your noble ass would be thrown against a wall and shot. The doctor’s blood was up.

The Running was their way out. It spanned weeks, giving them time to establish relations with all the players in the region, earn favor, and above all avert war between the Ascendency and Mythadia. They could repair the ship in the meantime, as well. She considered even accepting Silbermine’s offer to move their ship, if such a thing was even possible, but that wouldn’t be seen favorably by the Ascendency. Perhaps it was fortunate they landed right on a disputed border.

Itxaro stepped forward to accept the offered bread and spoke to Silbermine. “What my companion here means is that, well, Venurwreth’s domain in the sky is vast; incomprehensibly so, as I’m sure you know. They have not made themselves known to us. Maybe Venurwreth intends for you to serve as their envoy to us, Lord Silbermine?” Itxaro looked sidelong to Vigdis, as if to say for the love of God, don’t insult their gods. "We look forward to learning more about Venurwreth.” Weak, she knew, but it was something.

Itxaro waited for their host to eat the strange loaf first. She studied the bread and smelled it. Well, I ate Norwegian food before ending up here, and that didn’t kill me. Itxaro took a small bite of the mossy bread; tough, earthy, and incredibly salty. She’d had worse. Itxaro nodded to the Glen, as if in approval or gratitude. Hope the salt kills anything that might kill me.

After she finished chewing, Itxaro responded. “What interests me most right now is The Running. It sounds like a grand and noble tradition,” she began earnestly, as the tournament had intrigued her. Tournaments on Earth had been for money, glory, and favor, but never actual power. As far as backward societies went, not the worst tradition. “I can’t speak for our leader, but I'd like to learn about our potential role in it as your champions. What sort of competitions are held? Is there bloodshed? No coin is necessary for us, but maybe some bargain could be made that will benefit us all.” Itxaro hoped her plea was heard by both Silbermine, Nellara, and the humans among the fray.
In The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide) → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Itxaro listened intently to Kareet and Shirik’s brief history lesson. 350 years of magic. She wondered how human society would have evolved if similar Awakenings had struck the population, say, in the 14th century. She couldn't imagine the path mankind might have taken, but knew it would involve exponentially more bloodshed, and likely less focus on tangible fields of science. Itxaro made a note that, perhaps this is what was happening on Kanth-Aremek; stagnating scientific studies, but rapid societal evolution through magic thanks to these Awakenings. She’d have to learn more before drawing any conclusions, and silently wished she’d devoted more of her time to sociological research. Then again, I don’t think they’d want an anthropologist on an interstellar space ship.

She couldn’t stop herself from cocking an eyebrow at Shirik though. 1000 years of walking the earth. I’ll be lucky if I hit 40 at this rate. Itxaro got the impression that this type of longevity wasn’t typical of his species, along with his smoldering body, and wondered if the strange creature was lonely in his possibly eternal wandering.

Her musings were cut short when a familiar face trotted up to the encampment.

“Ah, fuck.” The translator picked up her obscenity and spat out a rough approximation, something akin to "mating". They’d forgotten, or intentionally omitted, Silbermine from the new conversation, and now he was here. Probably watching us. Smart.

If the Glen had been expecting a royal's welcome, he was sorely mistaken. As insult after insult piled upon Silbermine, Itxaro sank deeper and deeper into the soft grass until she was practically flat on the ground. She wished the earth would swallow her up whole, wincing after every slight Nellara delivered with her sharp tongue. Their previous interaction had been hostile, but with the translation program now running, she fully grasped the scope of their shared animosity. Shirik’s insults and truly demented laugh didn’t help matters either.

Itxaro contemplated staying cloistered away in the tall grass. But, neither the commander nor the X.O. were anywhere to be seen, Barberio was just getting over the initial shock of first contact, and Vigdis seemed more interested in scientific endeavors rather than preventing a charging army of Glen from cutting them down. So, Itxaro felt the responsibility fall on her shoulders yet again.

“Shirik, why do I keep getting diplomatic duties?” Itxaro groaned to her companion. She produced the armlet Silbermine had given her from a jumpsuit pocket and slid the golden ring onto her bicep before emerging from her hiding place “He’s the one who needs to watch out for me,” Itxaro replied to Shirik with a wry grin. She’d spent years developing a calm, neutral persona, able to mask her anger and intentions, and it was time to put it to work. She hoped it wouldn't crack. Itxaro felt calmer now, as the situation was becoming less fluid and the language barrier was mostly resolved.

Silbermine was thrown off guard by the translators, which was good for Itxaro. She slid between the feuding parties, as if her physical presence would block any more harsh words thrown by Vigdis or Nellara.

“Good morning, Lord Silbermine,” Itxaro began with a bow, “We’re pleased by the timing of your arrival; we were just about to send an envoy to request your presence.” Itxaro glanced to Vigdis, attempting to somehow convey for the love of God, back me up with her eyes.

Itxaro realized no one had explained the translator to him, judging from his bewildered expression. “We’ve been working with a representative of the Inquisitor’s Guild to learn your language, and our blacksmiths have developed this device,” she said, gesturing to the translator. “Think of it as a small golem, capable of taking our words and translating them.” She had no clue if this explanation would work, but it was worth a shot. It would be easier to describe their technology through a KA lens, rather than explain it in human terms.

“What my companion here," she said, nodding to Vigdis, "is trying to say is we’re unfamiliar with your custom of The Running; however, we would be glad to discuss it and our potential involvement further with you and break bread. In fact, one of our leaders is on our way right now,” Itxaro finished with a smile, quickly tapping out on her datapad a message to both Zey and Mallory.

>Silbermine here. Negotiating. Need guidance.

Of course, Itxaro didn’t need guidance; a plan was already formulating in her mind, something she’d been loosely developing as she scrambled through the Jotunheim’s hull. Really, Itxaro just needed permission. Now that it sounded like Silbermine needed their help to save his house, they had the upper hand. This "Running" seemed like a good way to resolve all their problems with one decisive move. Their alien companions had warned them against it, but Itxaro decided to weigh all the options before making her move. At worst, she would simply buy the humans some time.

She eyed the bread produced by Silbermine’s Glen-at-arms and already decided she would eat it when offered, and just hope it wouldn't prove toxic to human biology. If it did, then the good doctor could just pump her stomach. Besides, she hadn’t had fresh(ish) bread in a while.

Itxaro looked to Nellara, who seemed to be fuming, and hastily added,"Maybe it would be best if we held our meeting outside this encampment? Neutral ground?"
In The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide) → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Itxaro listened attentively to Shirik, enraptured by the Iriad’s history. The endless forests of Myriad captured her imagination in particular; the woodlands of Earth sounded like paltry scraps of land in comparison. She felt herself longing to run through the dark forest of the Iriad's homeland under a dense canopy of leaves like some pre-historic human. Shirik seemed nostalgic for his people's home, but hadn’t been there in… over one hundred years? She cocked an eyebrow at this figure in disbelief, but the Iriad went on. Itxaro reminded herself that trees lived far longer than anything in the animal kingdom, and that it was entirely possible whatever Shirik was shared that longevity. Trees don’t walk around and shoot fire though.

“Wow. I’m 35, and I feel ancient sometimes. But traveling around your world sounds nice right about now after being stuck in the Jotunheim. Any grand cities in the Myriad? I think I’d like to go just for the forests, they sound beautiful. We kind of ruined ours back home,” Itxaro asked eagerly. It sounded like Shirik got a front-row seat to witness his world’s leap into a sort of renaissance, so perhaps this was a particularly exciting time for him. This sent her mind wandering down another path, and she couldn’t stop herself from drilling Shirik with questions. She didn’t notice he asked nothing from her, a momentary lapse in awareness on her part.

“So, the magic; new development around here, or is that something that’s always been possible?”

“That’s right,” Itxaro replied to Kareet, “No magic needed. But it isn’t easy. It took humans a long time to figure it out, and even longer to use it properly. There were a lot of things we had to learn first.” She tensed visibly in her seated position when Kareet summoned a ball of lighting between her hands with ease. That’ll take some getting used to. Itxaro supposed that the human’s technology must be just as baffling and threatening to the aliens as their magic was to her, so she tried to relax and trust Kareet wouldn’t lose control and send 100 million volts directly into her face.

“Yeah, that’s electricity alright,” Itxaro said, eying the sparking orb. “We don’t really use lightning though, there’re other ways to generate the same power from it. You can burn wood or coal to generate electricity if you know how, but it isn’t nearly as efficient or strong. Seems like you’ve got a leg up on us there.” She wondered how much faster human technology would have developed if they had the ability to draw a potentially endless source of energy from the ether, using nothing but their hands. Could have probably saved the environment a lot of pain with that trick. Sorry about that, Mother Nature.

“But you can’t just shoot lightning into a hunk of metal and expect it to fly across space. The first thing we did with electricity was heat up a little piece of metal, and used it like a candle. You’d need a capacitor to store the electricity, to save it, so you can use a little bit of it at a time.” Itxaro felt like she was putting the cart before the horse. She doubted they had steam power, let alone gas light, so explaining electricity felt beyond what she suspected they could comprehend or even utilize. The urge to explore, to see the cities of this world and what level of development they’d reached, was becoming almost unbearable. “I’ll see if I can find some books about it for you that can explain it better and get a translation going. Also, speaking of books, the ones I gave you? Highly flammable on this planet. Careful with that.” She gave Kareet and apologetic shrug. “Wouldn’t take any notes in that unless you’re ready to see them go up in flames.” She made a mental note to come up with some sort of paper alternative that would be used to share knowledge with the locals that wouldn't smolder immediately; perhaps the natives had some fire-resistant plant they used.

Itxaro spotted Barberio, the pale machinist, escape from the Jotunheim’s belly for what just might have been the first time since crashing, and he was greeted almost instantly by Kerchak, another eager scholar from what she gathered. An idea quickly formed in her mind, and not wanting to interrupt the machinist’s lively conversation, she opted to send him a message through the ship’s extranet using her tablet.

>Hey Barberio, the locals are real interested in electricity. If we get the reactors working, any chance you could fabricate a couple models for them? Maybe a little ac generator, steam engine, all that fun stuff?

Itxaro looked over to Vigdis and Nellara, and quickly picked up on the engineer’s plan. “Looks like they’re gonna see just how much juice is in your magic, Kareet. Might wanna watch this!”
In The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide) → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
After scanning beyond the scorched crash zone, Itxaro spotted her tree friend, sitting beneath a tree. Fitting. As she approached Shirik, the doctor hesitated; he seemed to be resting, if the Iriad was capable of such, or perhaps meditating. Either way, Itxaro wasn't eager to disturb him. Just as she was turning to leave, Itxaro heard his rumbling voice, which was also picked up by her translation program. She couldn't help but chuckle as the translator repeated his words in English, utilizing her own voice she'd just installed. Gonna have to tweak that.

Itxaro strode over and sat down in the soft grass, still damp with morning dew, across from the Iriad. She leaned back for a moment and stretched her sore limbs, leg still aching from the graze a week ago, and let the alien sun warm her face through the tree's branches. After being cooped up in engineering for so long, Itxaro didn't particularly care if she was getting a healthy dose of radiation from the star or not.

"Thanks, Shirik. And yeah, that's what they tell me anyways," Itxaro replied, looking back to the Iriad. "Think of it like a little Gar'Tan, but dumber, and not as scary-looking." Itxaro was amused, hearing the program spit her own words back out in a totally foreign language.

"So, how's that? Make any sense at all or just gibberish?"

Itxaro took a moment to tweak the translation software on her datapad, removing her own voice for incoming translations. She paused for a moment and glanced at Shirik as her finger hovered over the "masculine" and "feminine" default voice options before selecting the former. She wondered if the Iriad even had a gender, but figured the deeper of the two would be appropriate. Itxaro briefly toyed with the idea of uploading famous human voices for the program to use, but decided it was best to stick to the basics for now. Still, her mind tore through several humans to use that would best represent Shirik and the others.

The Iriad spoke of home, Earth, and Itxaro turned his words over in her head. "Well," she replied after a moment, "it's definitely farther than I thought we'd make it. I'll be honest, I didn't have much faith in that heap of scrap over there. Guess my gut was only half-right." She looked over to the Jotunheim's wreck, contemplating her own words. It wasn't exactly the ship, which was a sound piece of engineering, but everything surrounding it. Alien technology, corporate oversight, untested AI, the lot of it. Too many moving parts.

"And if I'm being honest, we don't even know how far we went. Hell, on the cosmic scale, our worlds could be neighbors." Even as she said it, Itxaro knew it couldn't be true. 200 years of scanning planets light years from Earth hadn't revealed anything like the garden world they crashed on, let alone a rock remotely capable of hosting complex life. No, they were far. "Nah, I'm not homesick yet. We knew what we signed up for. Well, most of us, anyways," she finished, thinking of the stowaways who had definitely not volunteered for an interstellar road trip. She supposed it was better than being gunned down by shadowy mercenaries. Her leg throbbed involuntarily at the thought.

"What about you? Where's home for Shirik? I'm guessing you don't vibe with the Ascendency, and definitely not with our good friend Silbermine. Tell me about where you're from," Itxaro asked with a gentle smile, genuinely curious.

Shirik intrigued Itxaro on multiple levels. The first, obviously, purely physical. A sentient burning torch. Who wouldn't be curious? But beyond that and the magic, he seemed less... Frantic, somehow, than the other aliens. The Iriad wasn't constantly plying her with questions, eager to get something from them, desperate to learn, for which she couldn't blame them. Perhaps Shirik was simply playing it cool, looking at the long game, or maybe this was just his disposition.

As if to provide a counter for Shirik, Kareet approached the two, and Itxaro waved them over. This one, on the other hand... Very curious. The Tekeri dove beak-first into the new technology, and Itxaro grinned. She was pleased Kareet still had the books and pen she'd gifted to her, but then remembered with a twinge of panic just how flammable the paper was in this atmosphere. "Well, hello to you too, Kareet! Come on, join us," Itxaro said in response to the Tekeri's loaded question, an attempt to buy herself some time. Golems? Really? Am I in the Talmud? Itxaro decided to save her questions for later, and answer the one at hand.

"Not magic, no; it just seems like it. In about 600 years or so, your people will probably figure out how to do this yourselves. Well, if you follow humanity's path anyways." Itxaro thought for a moment, considering how best to describe a computer to both an alien and someone completely unfamiliar with electricity. Teaching quantum mechanics to a first-year student would probably be easier.

"Well, I guess it starts with power. Think of how lightning strikes in a storm. We're able to harness the dominant influence within lightning, which we call electricity. We generate it, make it small, and use it, like how you channel a river to turn a watermill, which uses the energy to saw wood. We send the electricity through metal and sand, and through some complicated math that even I'm not sure about, we can make it do what we want. We can store information with it like a book, use it to solve math problems for us like a giant abbicus, or help us send ships flying across space and into the dirt. And it works much faster than our minds can, but it only does what we tell it to," Itxaro said. She didn't bother bringing up the AI they had on board, which would only complicate matters even further.

"But it isn't magic, and it isn't sentient, just like how rain or wind isn't intelligent. The process is more like... Smithing. I couldn't figure out how to make a nail from a lump of iron, but J'eon, who knows all about it, could make a suit of armor in his sleep. It seems impossible to me, but not to him." Itxaro searched the Tekeri's eyes for understanding. It was much to take in, perhaps too much; she'd need hours upon hours to fully explain it to her, but Itxaro hoped the simple answer would suffice for now.

"Hey, did you say, uh, golems?" Itxaro asked in disbelief before she was cut off by a voice coming over her comms system. Barberio, the quiet, work-oriented machinist Itxaro had barely spoken to over the hectic week.

Itxaro let out a deep sigh and pushed down her annoyance before responding. A machinist, she thought, probably shouldn't be tinkering with nuclear reactors. I sure as hell wouldn't put my hands anywhere near his CNC machine. Would probably tear my other arm off. Then again, Itxaro considered, it was hypocritical to complain about Barberio working on a reactor when she was out here playing diplomat, something totally beyond her own skillset. "Nowhere near enough juice to get the reactors fired up, so we're just taking a break, chatting with our new friends here. Why don't you join us?" Itxaro asked, in part because she wasn't sure if the machinist had stepped outside since they crashed judging from his complexion, but also to pull him away from the reactors. Recalling his dossier, Itxaro remembered the man was a polyglot with a penchant for writing code, so she figured the lure of a native language and translation program would be a sufficient draw.

"Sorry about that," Itxaro said to her two companions. "Coworkers. You know how it is."
In The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide) → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Seven days.

A full week spent on an alien planet, filled with unique life and sentient creatures.

And I’ve spent most of that time in this fucking tomb, Itxaro mused bitterly as she crawled through the Jotunheim’s guts, covered in hydraulic fluid, grease, and sweat. The air was beginning to grow stale onboard the Jo, recycled atmosphere mixed with the smell of unwashed bodies. The lower decks were even worse, the cramped spaces and dim lighting making her feel as if she was trapped in a metal coffin.

Itxaro had spent several years working aboard spacecraft, but they were nothing like the Jotunheim’s submarine-like configuration. Both the USASR’s design philosophy and Itxaro’s need for space to house massive FTL drives she created meant that the ships she’d grown used to completely dwarfed the Jotunheim. Itxaro could bounce around in zero-g on those behemoths for weeks and never feel the slightest twinge of claustrophobia. On the Jotunheim, however, it was growing oppressive after just a few days of hard labor.

The doctor was currently sawing away at the lifeboats, cannibalizing the tiny crafts for whatever parts they could use. The miniscule capacitors onboard the escape pod and the shattered solar panels that fed the life support system wouldn’t be enough to jumpstart the reactors, but they might get the kitchen running again.

She hadn’t even bothered with the alien Alcubierre drive yet; there was no sense in it. Until the ship could exit the planet’s atmosphere, the device that got them here in the first place, and their only hope of returning home, would just have to wait.

The first humans on an alien world and we’re trying to get the hell off it.

It occurred to Itxaro that she’d been here an entire week, yet she’d only seen a square mile of the planet’s surface. She hadn’t even spoken to their new friends since the last tense meeting outside the Jotunheim’s cargo bay, the frantic repairs keeping her away. Deciding it was time to change that, Itxaro wiped her face with a rag and climbed out of her dungeon.

Itxaro was eager to test the new translation software now installed in her datapad; she loathed the artificial intelligence that created it, but had to admit even a team of human linguists wouldn’t have been nearly as quick. The doctor fed some of her own speech into the program, recorded lectures she’d found saved on her tablet. With some tinkering, Itxaro managed to have the translator speak in her own voice. Well, an approximation. It was stiff and flat, but still better than the droning monotone of the program’s default voice. Armed with her new tool, she stepped out of the dark ship, into the bright light of an alien sun, and sought out her first target.

The doctor knew she should probably find Nellara and drill the diplomat/soldier for as much lifesaving information as she could, but instead, Itxaro started searching the burned mountainside for a familiar, craggy, smoldering silhouette.
In The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide) → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Gar’Tan made it clear that, whatever the humans were currently thinking of KA's governments, they were wrong. Itxaro began to suspect that perhaps Earth political structures weren’t really applicable here, and they’d have to form new opinions rather than rely on past prejudices. They were receiving all information secondhand, rather than experiencing it themselves, which made drawing any solid conclusions even more difficult. Perhaps, if the commander allowed it, they could arrange a trip to the nearby cities to gain more intel. Or maybe Zey doesn’t need to know about it.

J’eon mentioned that he would have to look further into developing a sword for her. This idea opened up a whole new world of exchange in Itxaro’s mind; they didn’t have to share the most cutting-edge technology with the aliens. We can just teach them old stuff. Types of swords, different ways of mixing materials to form stronger building materials. It doesn’t have to be warp drive.

“Actually, J’eon, hold off on that sword for now; I might have a custom order that might interest you.”

Mallory seemed skeptical of the native’s motivations, particularly J’eon’s at the moment. Maybe because he’s a Glen? Itxaro shrugged in response. "I don’t know X.O., maybe he’s just along for the ride. J'eon, my good friend here wants to know; why are you here?”

Vigdis and Kareet seemed totally engaged in an exchange, and a slight smile flashed across her face. She was happy to see she wasn’t the only one interested in engaging with the locals; or so she assumed. Vigdis did voice their concern about the translation speed, however. “Well, I was hoping Gar’Tan here could just, uh, transmit the language into our heads, but I don’t think that’s possible, so it's up to us. You’re right, as much as I hate it, we’ll have to use Wodan and our translators.”

Kercheck stepped forward and gave the humans quite a show, his feathery arm transforming into a chitinous, shining blade. Itxaro audibly gasped, followed by a nervous laugh. Either Ezra wasn’t watching or didn’t catch that, because if he had, this little birdie would have an extra hole in their head. “Uhh, yeah Kercheck, we’ll be sure to set up a little exchange sometime soon. I’ve also got a leg dealing me some misery if you’d like to take a look at it sometime. Just keep that thing put away for now, ok?”

Itxaro shifted uncomfortably as the conversation continued. Things were becoming too complicated, and with Gar’Tan present, the humans couldn’t even formulate a game plan. If it had just been her, Itxaro thought, things might be different, but it was growing crowded now. She heard a clamor behind her as various crewmembers and stowaways peeked over the barricade in the shuttle, eager to catch a glimpse of this world’s inhabitants. Not great.

“Listen, X.O., how about we preserve the goodwill we’ve got here and call it a night before things get out of hand?” Itxaro said eagerly, ready to end their exchange. She turned to address the aliens. “Thank you all for meeting us here. I… Can’t believe we’re actually talking to eachother, and you’ve given us a lot to discuss. Our priority first is to learn your language, so we can all communicate without Gar’Tan’s help. No offense, Gar'Tan,” Itxaro said, glancing around. “From there, I guess we can begin negotiations. Exchanging knowledge, learning from eachother. That sort of thing, right?” She looked back to her crewmembers, as if for reassurance. “So, stick around in the meantime, ok? We're gonna need your help.”

Itxaro felt self-conscious of her little public address. It seemed stilted and awkard, but sincere. She hoped it was enough.
In The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide) → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The brainwaves, as she thought of them, kept on coming, and Itxaro was surprisingly growing used to the mode of communication. Strange, yes, but quick and efficient; she was jealous of Gar’Tan’s ability to transcend crude language and emotion, and convey speech directly to someone’s head. Her English was good, but sometimes Itxaro struggled to find the right words, or used idioms that didn’t translate. Then again, Gar’Tan described how these Thought mages could be hunted down and killed if they went rogue, so perhaps it was best if she didn’t possess this ability. She stuck with her tablet, relaying the messages as they came to those not partaking in the Thought mage’s transmissions.

@Eviledd1984

Kercheck was growing increasingly curious about the human’s technology and their history. Itxaro let Vigdis field that particular line of questioning, given the engineer’s concern with operational security. The Tekeri also asked about the human’s weaponry, and Itxaro glanced at Mallory and Vigdis briefly before answering. “Weapons are a bit of a touchy subject right now, Kercheck. Some are working, others aren’t. I’d love to give you a demonstration later, if the big boss allows us,” Itxaro said. “We’re able to hold our own though. What, uhh, what kind of ‘combative capacity’ are you talking about, life magic?” It seemed strange to Itxaro to call it “life magic” and then use it as a weapon, but she recalled seeing the Tekeri transform into an actual bird. Might be a pretty wide field of study. Itxaro was aching for a demo, and her injured leg was dealing her misery; maybe Kercheck could help her out. Still, Itxaro didn’t ask. Any move from them right now could end up with Ezra's itchy trigger finger getting its bloody wish.

@EliteCommander

Itxaro stood in amazement as Gar’Tan described the workings of the Inquisitor’s Guild. There was really no Earth analog to the organization; she racked her mind for historical examples but couldn’t recall anything quite as spectacular. Itxaro had immense respect for the S’tor now. She imagined the sacrifice it took to be part of the guild, the stress of knowing that at any moment, your trusted companions would cut you down if you slipped up. Can't be easy.

Itxaro also admired his candidness; Gar’Tan answered, to the best of his abilities, her rather blunt question. Can we trust the Nellara? The answer was, well, mixed. Itxaro hadn’t expected a black-and-white world, though she’d certainly been hoping for one. It would have made negotiations easier. It sounded like Gar’Tan was urging caution, patience, and negotiation. The humans were in a precarious situation, but still a powerful one. If they were to tip their favor in one way or the other, it would probably be considered reason for war. Still not crazy about Mythadia though.

"Thanks for your honesty, Gar’Tan,” Itxaro said. “Will you be able to stick around for a while? We might need you as a translator with the Glen.” Itxaro was finding herself taking on a lot of authority with her impromptu role as go-between, and she wasn’t loving it, largely because she didn’t know the commander or her X.O. well, as she’d just so recently found out. It was hard to judge what they wanted from the natives, almost as difficult as it was to find out what the natives wanted from them.

Mallory mentioned that they should learn their language, rather than speak through the Thought mage. Good idea in theory, but we probably have about a week or two before shit really hits the fan. Not enough time to become fluent diplomats. She took a moment to consider, and felt foolish asking, but did so anyways. “A lot of us here, myself not included, don’t really trust the whole Thought mage process. Is there any way we could learn your language? Any scholars around? Could you just, I don’t know, send the language into our brains? If not, we have some tools that could speed up the process.” Itxaro figured explaining the concept of an AI would take too much time, so she went with "tool" instead. Not entirely inaccurate.

@Starlance

Unlike the aliens, Vigdis’ motives were clear from the first to Itxaro. Don’t open Pandora’s Box on this planet. Itxaro was hesitant to give up her position as translator, but she knew it was probably the right call. Or at least, the call the commander would make. Gar’Tan led her to believe he wasn’t digging into her memory, just skimming the surface. Even though Itxaro thought this was true, it could still be dangerous. "Fine, fine, we’ll get someone else after this. They’ll have to be a tabula rasa though, totally empty brain, ya know, not a lot going on upstairs,” Itxaro replied, thinking before letting out a laugh. “Our good friend Tyreese fits that description. We’ll run it by the commander or the X.O. I guess, maybe Wodan. Whoever’s taken a tally of the stowaways.”

@Blizz

Shirk, who had been smoldering and silent, finally spoke up in his crackling voice. Gar’Tan translated in real time, and Itxaro was almost giddy to hear her translating companion speak. If not directly to her, at least through Gar’Tan. Her excitement quickly faded, however, as Shirik described Silbermine. As she’d suspected, Shirik was the oldest in this group, perhaps by far, and a veteran of some terrible war. Itxaro wondered if this war is why he constantly burned, unlike the green Iriad standing by Gar’Tan. Itxaro felt traces of Shirik’s anger and sorrow laced through the thoughts, not enough to sway her, but just enough for her to feel sympathetic. Granted, she already was partial to the smoking tree.

Shirik’s description of Mythadia was no less harsh, as the Iriad tore apart their brutal customs and religion of domination. Shirik seemed neutral towards the Ascendancy, but harbored a hatred toward Mythadia’s rulers; perhaps all rulers, she wondered. Itxaro scrawled Shirik’s speech into her notes as fast as she could, sparing no detail, her nimble fingers seemingly independent of her body. Shirik’s description of Mythadia’s cruel leaders further set her against the Glen, as it aligned with her ideology. Dogmatic religion, war-like, and imperialist. All things a good socialist loathes.

"We've had our share of war at home," Itxaro replied,"Some here have experienced it firsthand. Trust me, we're not eager to bring it to your world either." Well, most of us, anyways. Can't speak for Ezra and Tyreese. "It sounds like Silbermine doesn't share our thoughts though. That might be tricky."

Though he hadn’t said it, Itxaro suspected Shirik would be siding with the Ascendancy no matter who the humans ended up with, and she would hate to be on the receiving end of his heat magic. One point for the Ascendancy. She didn’t want to delve any deeper into Shirik’s thoughts on warfare or the Mtyhandia, though; Itxaro was pretty sure where he stood, and conflict didn’t seem to be a pleasant topic for the Iriad. He’d also mentioned magic was rare, yet it seemed everyone here had some form of ability. Just luck, or something else? Perhaps it was a gift reserved for the elite. He'd said few are capable, which suggested it was more a random chance.

“When we first met, I think you offered to teach us magic. Is it really that simple? Do you think humans could learn? If we, ya know, taught you some stuff too, of course,” Itxaro asked apprehensively. Surely the others would be willing to trade some rudimentary technology for magic. She briefly imagined herself perched atop a mountain peak, cloaked in flowing robes that rippled in the wind as she conjured flames to hurtle at her enemies like some ancient djinn unleashed. Absolutely ridiculous. Pretty cool though.

@Expendable

Jeon followed up Shirik’s tale with a similarly miserable one, of slavery and escape. Itxaro’s heart ached for the hulking Glen; her distant ancestors had been slaves, brought by the Spanish from Africa to Cuba, for their supposed “stronger constitution”. She was saddened to learn the institution was practiced here, on this new world, but not surprised. It wasn’t clear who enslaved Jeon, and Itxaro didn’t dare ask, but he did flee to Mythadia to join a Blacksmiths’ Guild. Aha, so I was right! She had suspected the Glen was a smith from his medallion, along with the cart of goods he towed behind him sometimes. Itxaro idly wondered if the Glen could make a sword for her; she’d left all hers at home.

Jeon also mentioned “controlling the flame,” and she had a feeling this wasn’t just a metaphor for blacksmithing. Another mage. Glad I didn't piss him off. “You said Silbermine isn’t thinking straight. What about his leader? Will they all be similarly, uh, rabid?” Itxaro asked ineloquently. “Is there any way we can contact others in Mythadia, make them see reason if they’re not all so zealous? Maybe have them challenge his authority? If war breaks out, it could be devastating to Mythadia. If not, we’re going to be dealing with Silbermine, which doesn’t sound like good odds to me.” Itxaro paused before sheepishly asking, “Hey, any chance you got a sword about my size? Hell, I’d settle for a little dagger or something.” She couldn’t help herself. All these swaggering swordsmen had her longing for one of her own.

@13org

Nellara came in last, with a veritable treasure trove of information. She promised not to include the Jotunheim’s crew in the ensuing battle. “No offense, but it seems to me we’re already part of the conflict, whether we like it or not, and just about the only thing that can prevent it,” Itxaro said cautiously. Nellara said she wanted to protect the humans; it seemed like the Ascendency did this since the Jotunheim was on their borders, and Itxaro partly believed this, but medieval borders had been incredibly flexible on Earth, almost to the point of nonexistence. Distances of a couple miles weren’t even considered worth fighting over. Unless there was something valuable sitting on top the border.

Nellara seemed disappointed the humans were still so wary of them, despite all of her efforts. Itxaro considered this for a moment, and opted to relay her message directly through thought. Listen, we’re all on edge here. We don’t even trust eachother, let alone a new people we just met not a day ago. Give us some time, be patient, and we’ll come around. I’ll keep on them about it, I promise. And I'll do my best to arrange a meeting with you and the commander, Zey.

Nellara went on to describe Mythadia, building upon Shirik’s bleak depiction, and of the Ascendency itself, painting it as a secular meritocracy that focused on commerce. The trade unionists back home would love this, Itxaro thought. The Ascendancy certainly sounded like a step in the right direction to Itxaro; she knew an outright meritocracy had its flaws, still favoring those with familial wealth and connections, but it certainly didn’t sound as hierarchical as Mythadia’s hereditary aristocracy. China’s ancient imperial examinations came to mind, whereby anyone with the appropriate knowledge and talent could succeed in the civil service. Granted, most of them who could afford the education were wealthy, but still.

Nellara made it sound as if conflict was almost unavoidable. Even if the humans submitted to Silbermine, an unthinkable outcome, Itxaro suspected that the Ascendancy would still go to war to gain access to human technology. Hell, they’d be foolish not to.

“Well, Nellara, sounds like you have more experience than me in this field. I’m just a scientist, on a good day. I think your intentions are peaceful, but it isn’t me you need to convince. We’ve got our own hierarchy here,” Itxaro said tiredly, tilting her head towards Mallory. The previous adrenaline that had fueled her manic communication was beginning to ebb, and she felt exhaustion settling into her bones. The doctor wanted to continue this discussion, but having ten different people talking to her at once was beginning to wear on her. “It sounds like we have to parlay with Silbermine, one way or the other. Could you or Gar’Tan arrange a meeting in, say, four days, where everyone is represented? We need some time to get our shit together.” Itxaro wasn’t relishing another meeting since the last one nearly ended in bloodshed, but she hoped now the humans had their own voice, they could ease some of the tension between the two nations.

“And what about the Ascendency? Any religion there? Royalty? No judgment, we’ve got plenty back home on Earth; just trying to get a full picture for my report to the boss.”

@Expendable @Starlance

Itxaro turned to her human companions to explain everything, the notes she had taken freely available to any interested parties. “Well, Vigdis, if you’re worried about alien Hitler, Nellara here makes it sound like Silbermine is a pretty good candidate,” she started. “Best I can put it, Nellara says the Glen and Mythadia are the Golden Horde mixed with medieval Europe political structure. Love to conquer, zealots all, and likely to enslave us; Gar’Tan disagrees on the last part, but Shirik isn’t a fan either.” She paused, allowing her audience to absorb this, before continuing.

“The Ascendency sounds like Renaissance Florence, all the guilds focusing on trade, an emphasis on skill over birthright. Not bad. I’ll let you know as I learn more. The Ascendency wants to trade with us, learn from us; you'll have to break the bad news to them, Vigdis. Mythadia is more interested in, ehm, owning us? Like a super divine right of kings deal. Not a great outcome there. But I’m trying to arrange a meeting with them so we can sort this mess out; we should have some time, maybe a week or two, before the armies fully mobilize and arrive. At least, by medieval Earth standards. I don’t know what these boys and girls here are working with. What do you think, X.O.?”


Itxaro was growing restless, twitchy. Too much going on from too many angles. She needed time to absorb what was going on, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, time to consult with her crew. More than anything, she wanted to sleep, a feat she might just be capable of now, but she also longed for one-on-one time with some of the natives. Well, Gar'Tan will be there too. But still. She wanted their unique perspectives, their experiences, and she wanted to hear them speak, unrestrained by the moderating effect of a large audience. She shot Mallory a look that said, let's wrap this party up, but she didn't know if he would acknowledge it, or even listen.
In Star Wars: Jedi Academy → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Cool! So that brings the total up to 5, including Theyra, who I’m assuming will be a Jedi knight. Good stuff, looking forward to this one!

Question: have the characters been at the academy for some time now, and are somewhat familiar with eachother, or are we starting from scratch? I wrote my character’s history to allow some leeway in either direction. Thanks!
In The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide) → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Itxaro was, simply put, out of her comfort zone.

The engineer was more accustomed to brokering a late term paper submission with a stressed-out student, not political negotiations between two alien nations teetering on the brink of war. Certain types of stress she could handle, too. Nuclear reactor on the brink of overloading and pumping out lethal levels of radiation? Particle accelerator threatening to create a miniature black hole that will collapse the entire ship? Easy, no sweat. But she was accustomed to a single problem, an engineering problem, not seven different issues all pulling at her in different directions.

Itxaro was distressed, but the game of telepathic telephone commenced, and she jumped in feet first. Itxaro took frantic notes on her datapad for later use, typing as fast as she could in shorthand to keep up with each speaker. Jesus. If I ever get back to the lecture hall, I’ll slow down for those poor kids. This ain’t easy.

@EliteCommander

Kareet kicked things off; Itxaro thought he seemed the most eager to communicate with the humans, and the engineer sensed a kindred spirit here. Apparently, things were decidedly not through with Silbermine. In fact, they were centered right on the border between two nations, and there was a dispute over who could lay claim to the Jotunheim. Divine right versus territorial boundaries. Both factions were now gearing up for war as they spoke. Itxaro let out a deep sigh and cursed when this was relayed, but she quickly recovered her composure.

She’d been enamored with Silbermine when he first arrived, like something out of the Bayeux tapestry with his stunning retinue and elaborate armor. He’d even tossed her a trinket, like some knight giving her his favor after a victorious joust. But as Itxaro had tried to sleep, tossing and turning, her Marxist worldview slowly began to fill in the details. This was not an Arthurian legend. On Earth, the royalty had exploited peasants, waged pointless wars, and lined their pockets at the expense of the commoner with the useful excuse of divine right. She trusted that things would not be so different on this new planet. The aliens now outside of the Jotunheim didn't possess the same regal bearing. They were a mixed bag; bureaucrats, scholars, artisans, soldiers, and… Whatever Shirik was. But probably not ruling class.

“Thank you, Kareet,” Itxaro replied, nodding to the Tekeri. “I promise we’re not gods, but I’ll do everything I can to prevent war. That’s the last thing we want. Will Silbermine trust Gar’Tan to translate for us? Or will he use his own? I’d, eh, rather not do that.” She wasn’t used to Gar’Tan’s mind magic, or whatever it was, but he hadn’t scrambled her brains yet, and Itxaro didn’t relish the idea of yet another total stranger delving into her mind. Better the devil you know.

@Starlance

Vigdis spoke up, overcoming the initial shock of a foreign presence in her head. A process that involved subtly threatening Gar’Tan with her gun. Nope! She doesn’t mean that! She’s just kidding! I think! Itxaro thought loudly, if such a thing is possible, hoping Gar’Tan would pick up on the message. But maybe leave any new arrivals alone for now, until I explain, uh, this.

On paper, Itxaro liked Vigdis’ proposal of a middleman. But who? Almost everyone on the ship either had mission-critical information, or was a stowaway scared out of their minds. Maybe Eva? That’d be a sight. That, and they were already working through two layers of translation, from human thoughts to alien. Adding in yet another barrier seemed like a time-consuming process, time they might not have. That, and Itxaro was growing almost protective of the aliens. She had the most contact with them by far, and the engineer didn't entirely trust the other crew with the delicate process. Not that she herself was some great diplomat. Still, Itxaro was willing to play ball. “If you’ve got any candidates in mind, I’m all ears Vigdis. But I’m gonna keep at it. What’re they gonna do, build an FTL drive?” Itxaro replied with a shrug. She wondered if they could build an FTL drive just from her knowledge, but even then, the engineer didn't know enough about the other aspects of shipbuilding and metallurgy to get them very far. She also wasn’t entirely onboard with Vigdis’ approach, seeking neutrality, but she kept silent on the matter. Itxaro was just glad her fellow engineer was by her side, differing views or not.

@TinyKiwi

Eva’s voice cut through the comms, and the engineer noticed the hulking Javelin behind her in the shuttle bay. Itxaro felt the hair raise on her neck. And now I’m really in the crossfire. Mierda. Eva's statement didn't exactly reassure Itxaro, but it was nice to know the Javelin wouldn’t be opening fire on the aliens unless provoked, and Itxaro didn’t foresee this group making any moves. Ezra, on the other hand, she wasn’t so trusting. Itxaro quickly switched from the local comms channel to a direct line with Javelin pilot. “Hey Eva, that thing’s bullet-proof, right? If the X.O. and his buddies or Ezra start shooting, it would be so fuckin’ cool if you put yourself between the gunfire and our new friends, save their assess. No pressure though.” Then, Itxaro switched back to the general channel and replied, for all to hear, “ Just keep an eye on our new friends here and look tough I guess. Vigdis might have some, ehm, diplomatic work for you if you’re up for that." Itxaro glanced sideways to Vigdis, who would overhear the little exchange, and shrugged. If Eva told anyone about Itxaro’s little request, the engineer would probably receive the space equivalent of keelhauling, but it was a risk she was willing to take.

@Expendable

Then, Mallory’s familiar voice.

Itxaro had just been finding her groove, her “work fugue” as she called it, where her occasionally volatile emotions dulled and her focus sharpened. That all came crumbling down quite rapidly. Itxaro laughed in disbelief and ran a hand through her hair. Part of it was that Mallory had been right; she relished the interactions with the natives, and had shirked her duties for a secret meeting with Shirik. But also, the X.O. used her first name. That really set her off.

“That’s Dr. Ibarra to you. Fucking Yankee,” Itxaro replied bitterly. She had a tirade of curses, insults, and threats lined up, but she had just enough self-control left to rip off her comm link and jam it into her pocket. Come down here. Oh God, please come down here. I’ll shove your head so far up your ass, Mallory, you just might see shit clearly.

If Gar’Tan was tuning in, he’d be getting an interesting show.

@13org @EliteCommander @Expendable

Itxaro didn’t have much time to cool off before her thoughts were bombarded with more translations, this time from Nellara.

“It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re allll cool over here,” Itxaro said, though it wasn’t clear if she was responding to Nellara’s apology for the thought mages or just reassuring herself. It didn’t take a thought mage to determine she was in fact not fine, her body quaking with anger as she aggressively typed out notes on her datapad.

“Vigdis, you gotta keep that guy away from me. I just might kill him,” Itxaro said, clenching her jaw.

Thankfully, Gar’Tan’s translations, though unnerving, had a calming effect on Itxaro. Maybe the thought mage sensed her agitation and was altering her mood somehow, but Itxaro had a feeling this wasn’t it. Perhaps just hearing a calm, neutral voice in her head that belonged to her, but didn't, broke up her raging mind and helped her relax. It made Itxaro feel as if she, too, was calm. At least, enough to realize what a huge mistake she’d made in blowing up on the XO.

Itxaro shook her head, deciding to save the embarrassment for later, but not before one quick self-flagellation. They don’t see you as Dr. Ibarra, FTL specialist anymore. You’re the spicy, angry Latina now.

She managed to come back to the moment at hand. According to Nellara, Silbermine didn’t just want to learn from them, he wanted to claim them, seeing them as some sort of gift from the gods. Take apart the Jotunheim and haul them back as trophies. There goes neutrality. At least, if she’s not lying. Either way, she made a mental note to scrub that stupid logo off the Jo’s hull, maybe rip it off her uniform while she was at it. Itxaro wondered if Gar’Tan was truly neutral, and figured it was worth giving it a shot.

“Gar’Tan, is Nellara telling the truth about all this?” She asked bluntly. “You don’t have to answer if it’s against your code, or honor, or whatever, but for the love of God, don’t tell Nellara I asked.”

Nellara’s description of the situation they were in painted an incredibly bleak picture. Two armies on the march, annexation of the territory, and war against the Ascendancy, whatever that was. Doesn’t sound like a royal house. At least, on Earth it doesn’t. She assumed that the Ascendancy was some sort of governing body, a joint power structure with the Order of Magisters, of Nellara was a member, that ruled over Arcadea. Pretty complex for what Itxaro had assumed was a medieval society. More like Renaissance Italy than medieval England, all these orders and guilds. It was a good sign, though, or so she thought.

She was at a loss for words when it came to Nellara. Another apology felt trite, so she held back the impulse. Then, the Tekeri offered herself up as an ambassador. “Ok. Ok ok,” Itxaro said as she paced. “So we’re about to be in the middle of a war, which we caused. Good. Nellara, I’m already in deep shit with my higher-ups for even talking to you right now, so let’s put you coming on the Jotunheim on the back burner for now until they give me the thumbs up. Would love to have you all on board and show you around though,” Itxaro added with a wan smile. She thought for a moment, idly scrolling through her notes.

“Is there any way we can avoid conflict here? I don’t know anything about this Silbermine. Would a show of force work deter him? Offering tribute maybe? We’ve got more pens, I think. I can’t speak for my commanding officer, but we’re not just gonna let them take the Jo apart." Itxaro looked to J'eon, the only Glen in the group. Probably racist, or species-ist to ask, but it doesn't hurt to try I guess.

"J'eon, what do you think? Are you familiar with Silbermine, or anything about their religion? Why are we, eh, a sign from the gods? We need to know what's going on if we're gonna get out of this mess." She hoped she didn't offend the Glen, doubly so given his massive stature, but Itxaro figured she needed all the viewpoints and information she could get.

Itxaro paused. “If it comes to it… Is everyone on this planet... Uh, magical?” So far, she’d seen most of the natives perform some extraordinary feat that defied traditional logic. If they were going to fight, it would be good to know if they were against a planet of fire-spouting wizards.

@Expendable @EliteCommander

Itxaro heard Mallory speaking again. Didn’t I take that damn thing off? Then she turned around and saw him. The stars shone above her with the mad clarity of altitude, free from light pollution, and Itxaro stood there for a split second. Planning her next move. The engineer noticed the gun slung on Mallory's hip, and from the way her loose jumpsuit snapped in the wind, knew she hadn’t thrown on one of her own.

“Welcome to the Ibarra fan club, XO,” she said with a sweeping gesture. “Sorry about earlier. Some ensign told me to get to the shuttle bay, and I did. Shit’s popping off out here, you know how it goes.” She pulled up her datapad and sent the scrambled notes she’d been taking to his device. “Here’s the official meeting minutes. According to our friend Nellara here, we landed on a disputed border, Silbermine wants to strip the Jotunheim for parts and take us prisoner, and two armies are on the way looking for a fight, right now. Communication is pretty useful, huh?” Itxaro forgot the notes were written in Spanish. "Ehh, run'em through Wodan, they'll figure it out. Probably good they're up to speed, too."

She was still fuming, but not quite ready to punch her commanding officer. If not for my sake, then at least for the natives. Itxaro tried to hide her anger in the half-joking, jovial banter. She couldn’t resist that last jab though. If we turtled up on the bridge, we’d wake up in the middle of a warzone.

As if she’d forgotten a minor detail, Itxaro added, “Oh, and this one here is Gar’Tan. He can read minds. But don’t worry, he’s non-partisan." Then, she figured she'd throw him a bone, give him some authority back. "Vigdis says we need an ambassador for the human race; any suggestions? They've already got theirs and want to come aboard. Don't worry, I pushed it off. I vote Eva. Are we voting?” She turned to Gar’Tan and spoke directly to him to ensure the S'tor got the message, using the near-incomprehensible pidgin of Mandarin, Portuguese, and Spanish common on the streets of Havana. “Don’t read this one yet; he might actually shoot you.”
In Star Wars: Jedi Academy → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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