Ooh, and if anyone finds any ref's, congrats! They're littered throughout
here.cackle
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Five-itty Five Five
Beka
Beka jumped like she'd sat on a pin when the short trill of the door chime interrupted the low drone emanating from the holoscreen. A smaller screen near the door showed a young woman with long, dark locks that shone auburn when hit by a stray beam of light. Eyes just as dark, emerald tinged instead of dusky crimson, gazed so steadily into the room that she would have sworn the other woman could see her. Beka unfolded herself from the oh- so-comfortable chair and opened the door to the security officer. The brunette reminded Beka very strongly of someone, but she couldn't quite put her finger on who. "Um, my husband's on our ship, checking...something," she shrugged, "He did not choose to confide in his beloved wife." As was becoming more and more usual recently, sarcasm dripped from her words.
Shaidyna grinned knowingly. "If someone wanted to infiltrate Nietzschean society, he or she certainly couldn't rely on matrimony to learn their deep, dark secrets."
Beka went to retrieve her bag from the bedroom, talking as she ambled there and back. "No, but they could go to a Tiradisene diplomatic gathering." Tyr would have had a fit had he heard what Beka had just said, but he wasn't here, now was he? That's what he got for gallivanting off, in her ship of all places, without telling her why. "It's a little creepy when one of the matriarchs tries to bond with you and introduces you to several women she thinks would make suitable wives for your husband." As she wadded her belongings into the grey duffel, she motioned for Shaidyna to sit, who did so with a grateful sigh.
"I've always wondered how human/Nietzschean couples work that." A short burst of laughter filled the brief pause. "But then, I've always wondered how you work, well, everything."
An unlady-like snort and a roll of her eyes suggested that Beka definitely didn't know the answer to that either. Quite possibly a simple lover's spat, Shaidyna reminded herself. She entertained the notion of asking about it but discarded the idea almost as quickly as it had come. "Someone should be here in a little while to show you your new rooms. I hope you like red satin."
Beka's head snapped up. "Red satin?" She appeared equal parts nauseous and apprehensive about this turn of events.
In an unexpected show of... embarrassment, Beka guessed, Shaidyna dropped her eyes to the cushion at her elbow. "Yeah, it was the best suite we had. It's, uh, usually reserved from another of our patrons, the Marchioness cen Haria Salenatyf" At Beka's blank expression, she elaborated, albeit hesitantly. "She's, uh, keeps men, you know? Starving artists, writers, um, philosophers, whatever. Or just those she finds particularly attractive. Anyway, uh, this is where they go for their anniversary getaways, so she demands that everything...everything lends itself to a, um, romantic atmosphere."
Personally, Beka couldn't see why the subject flustered the woman so much. So a woman kept men? Whether a woman keeping a man or vice versa, it wasn't so uncommon to elicit that sort of reaction. "And what? She thinks red satin adds to the atmosphere?" The only thing mounds of red satin would do for Beka was hurt her eyes. "If I were that rich, I know I would keep me..." she trailed off. "What do you mean someone should be here? Aren't you the one who's supposed to show us to the honeymoon suite of lust and red satin?"
Eyes nearly jet black met blue, laughter fading to a dry chuckle. "If I were actually here, yes I would. Unfortunately, I was instructed the clearest of terms that were I here, I would find myself suffering a number of unimaginable tortures if I were not fortunate enough to die the moment I was spotted on the premise."
Comprehension replaced inquiry as the full implications of the former security officer's words struck Beka. "And who in their right mind would stay someplace like that? You may not be a Nietzschean, but even us plain old homo sapiens have that survival instinct." Her brow furrowed. "So then why...aren't you here?"
Shaidyna shrugged minutely and shifted her eyes to the holoscreen. "I don't know which side you're on, with or against, but I thought either way I should tell you the reason I'm not here."
The woman was circumspect, no doubt about that, but also incredibly kind to risk incurring the wrath of one of the largest crime syndicates ever to have existed, just to warn a couple of strangers about the hotel's less than legal management. She was saved from the necessity of thinking of an equally multi-layered and clever response by the arrival of the ever-cheery Tyr Anasazi.
He took in the room's occupants with a quick sweep. "Are we leaving, then?" As he did from time to time, he addressed Beka while never even glancing in her direction. She felt she could almost see the line stretched tautly between the eyes of the other two.
"So we were, my raspberry muffin of sweet, sweet love." Not even Tyr could resist tearing his eyes away and staring incredulously at Beka. "Only, they don't have anything available for us, so I guess we're going to have to find somewhere else." She detected a tightness in her shipmate's face which usually signaled suspicion, but she wasn't about to stay here. On the other hand, at least they knew who was in charge here... "Although now that I think about it, Shaidyna did mention something about... red satin?" She looked at the named questioningly, praying for the woman's understanding.
A sudden smile brightened Shaidyna's face. "Yes, so I did. Tell me, have you heard of the Marchioness cen Haria Salentyf?"
Abruptly, Tyr's expression morphed into one Beka knew she had never seen on the Nietzschean's normally tightly controlled face. As if someone had just played one of the universe's most classic practical jokes on him; Beka's own memory of the childhood prank still made her stomach churn. "What's wrong, sweetpea? Someone play the purple quirri fruit joke on you?"
If humanly (or in this case, Uber-ly) possible, the look Tyr shot her was even more disgusted. " I know Corlecia very well." Hmph, as if that explained everything.
Although Beka didn't find anything notable about the admission, Shaidyna apparently had. "Corlecia?" Beka was positive she saw a faint blush spread across the woman's coppery complexion. "There are very, very few who know that name. The only people I was even aware knew it were her..." Now the blush was unmistakable. An incongruous grin passed lightly over her face, which seemed to annoy Tyr to no end. Beka made a mental note to tease Tyr unmercifully about this Marchioness later, but her amusement was completely forgotten in the next couple of minutes.
"And even fewer know the name Adolph Attila. So tell me, were you dismissed because of the incident earlier today or because that name was found among your private contacts? I tested your DNA."
Beka mouthed the name Tyr'd said. Adolph Attila? Sounded decidedly Nietzschean, though the alliteration was almost cutesy, in a thoroughly creepy sort of way. And what DNA did he possess of... "The blood," she murmured. "Eww."
"Ah, can't fool those computers of your, can I?" She tossed her head back at Beka, who was starting to resent all this talking over her head.
"She's my wife, Shaidyna. She should know." I should know something, huh? Hello, hell, how's that ice sculpture coming along? After rising and considering them for a moment, Shaidyna inhaled deeply, approached Tall, Dark, and Generally Scary, and raised her forearm so that it formed a V with Tyr's. Beka nearly swallowed her tongue. The traditional Nietzschean greeting, that was.
But inevitably, something even stranger was to follow. Shaidyna touched two fingers to Tyr's double helix. "Tyr Anasazi, you have committed to pass on the genes of Victoria and of Barbarossa, and of the entire Kodiak pride."
In return, Tyr rubbed a thumb over her bicep where a double helix of her own would rest. To Beka, it all looked rather touchy-feely friendly, but she managed to restrain herself from speaking the caustic remark on the tip of her tongue. For a while, at least, she promised herself. "As have you for the genes of Gabrella and of Tomaron and of the entire Kodiak pride." Finally, he chose to acknowledge Beka's presence when he separated himself from Shaidyna and turned to his First Officer. "I present Shaidyna Ar'Semir, out of Gabrella by Tomaron, brother to the matriarch of the Kodiak pride."
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Five-itty Five Five
Beka
Beka jumped like she'd sat on a pin when the short trill of the door chime interrupted the low drone emanating from the holoscreen. A smaller screen near the door showed a young woman with long, dark locks that shone auburn when hit by a stray beam of light. Eyes just as dark, emerald tinged instead of dusky crimson, gazed so steadily into the room that she would have sworn the other woman could see her. Beka unfolded herself from the oh- so-comfortable chair and opened the door to the security officer. The brunette reminded Beka very strongly of someone, but she couldn't quite put her finger on who. "Um, my husband's on our ship, checking...something," she shrugged, "He did not choose to confide in his beloved wife." As was becoming more and more usual recently, sarcasm dripped from her words.
Shaidyna grinned knowingly. "If someone wanted to infiltrate Nietzschean society, he or she certainly couldn't rely on matrimony to learn their deep, dark secrets."
Beka went to retrieve her bag from the bedroom, talking as she ambled there and back. "No, but they could go to a Tiradisene diplomatic gathering." Tyr would have had a fit had he heard what Beka had just said, but he wasn't here, now was he? That's what he got for gallivanting off, in her ship of all places, without telling her why. "It's a little creepy when one of the matriarchs tries to bond with you and introduces you to several women she thinks would make suitable wives for your husband." As she wadded her belongings into the grey duffel, she motioned for Shaidyna to sit, who did so with a grateful sigh.
"I've always wondered how human/Nietzschean couples work that." A short burst of laughter filled the brief pause. "But then, I've always wondered how you work, well, everything."
An unlady-like snort and a roll of her eyes suggested that Beka definitely didn't know the answer to that either. Quite possibly a simple lover's spat, Shaidyna reminded herself. She entertained the notion of asking about it but discarded the idea almost as quickly as it had come. "Someone should be here in a little while to show you your new rooms. I hope you like red satin."
Beka's head snapped up. "Red satin?" She appeared equal parts nauseous and apprehensive about this turn of events.
In an unexpected show of... embarrassment, Beka guessed, Shaidyna dropped her eyes to the cushion at her elbow. "Yeah, it was the best suite we had. It's, uh, usually reserved from another of our patrons, the Marchioness cen Haria Salenatyf" At Beka's blank expression, she elaborated, albeit hesitantly. "She's, uh, keeps men, you know? Starving artists, writers, um, philosophers, whatever. Or just those she finds particularly attractive. Anyway, uh, this is where they go for their anniversary getaways, so she demands that everything...everything lends itself to a, um, romantic atmosphere."
Personally, Beka couldn't see why the subject flustered the woman so much. So a woman kept men? Whether a woman keeping a man or vice versa, it wasn't so uncommon to elicit that sort of reaction. "And what? She thinks red satin adds to the atmosphere?" The only thing mounds of red satin would do for Beka was hurt her eyes. "If I were that rich, I know I would keep me..." she trailed off. "What do you mean someone should be here? Aren't you the one who's supposed to show us to the honeymoon suite of lust and red satin?"
Eyes nearly jet black met blue, laughter fading to a dry chuckle. "If I were actually here, yes I would. Unfortunately, I was instructed the clearest of terms that were I here, I would find myself suffering a number of unimaginable tortures if I were not fortunate enough to die the moment I was spotted on the premise."
Comprehension replaced inquiry as the full implications of the former security officer's words struck Beka. "And who in their right mind would stay someplace like that? You may not be a Nietzschean, but even us plain old homo sapiens have that survival instinct." Her brow furrowed. "So then why...aren't you here?"
Shaidyna shrugged minutely and shifted her eyes to the holoscreen. "I don't know which side you're on, with or against, but I thought either way I should tell you the reason I'm not here."
The woman was circumspect, no doubt about that, but also incredibly kind to risk incurring the wrath of one of the largest crime syndicates ever to have existed, just to warn a couple of strangers about the hotel's less than legal management. She was saved from the necessity of thinking of an equally multi-layered and clever response by the arrival of the ever-cheery Tyr Anasazi.
He took in the room's occupants with a quick sweep. "Are we leaving, then?" As he did from time to time, he addressed Beka while never even glancing in her direction. She felt she could almost see the line stretched tautly between the eyes of the other two.
"So we were, my raspberry muffin of sweet, sweet love." Not even Tyr could resist tearing his eyes away and staring incredulously at Beka. "Only, they don't have anything available for us, so I guess we're going to have to find somewhere else." She detected a tightness in her shipmate's face which usually signaled suspicion, but she wasn't about to stay here. On the other hand, at least they knew who was in charge here... "Although now that I think about it, Shaidyna did mention something about... red satin?" She looked at the named questioningly, praying for the woman's understanding.
A sudden smile brightened Shaidyna's face. "Yes, so I did. Tell me, have you heard of the Marchioness cen Haria Salentyf?"
Abruptly, Tyr's expression morphed into one Beka knew she had never seen on the Nietzschean's normally tightly controlled face. As if someone had just played one of the universe's most classic practical jokes on him; Beka's own memory of the childhood prank still made her stomach churn. "What's wrong, sweetpea? Someone play the purple quirri fruit joke on you?"
If humanly (or in this case, Uber-ly) possible, the look Tyr shot her was even more disgusted. " I know Corlecia very well." Hmph, as if that explained everything.
Although Beka didn't find anything notable about the admission, Shaidyna apparently had. "Corlecia?" Beka was positive she saw a faint blush spread across the woman's coppery complexion. "There are very, very few who know that name. The only people I was even aware knew it were her..." Now the blush was unmistakable. An incongruous grin passed lightly over her face, which seemed to annoy Tyr to no end. Beka made a mental note to tease Tyr unmercifully about this Marchioness later, but her amusement was completely forgotten in the next couple of minutes.
"And even fewer know the name Adolph Attila. So tell me, were you dismissed because of the incident earlier today or because that name was found among your private contacts? I tested your DNA."
Beka mouthed the name Tyr'd said. Adolph Attila? Sounded decidedly Nietzschean, though the alliteration was almost cutesy, in a thoroughly creepy sort of way. And what DNA did he possess of... "The blood," she murmured. "Eww."
"Ah, can't fool those computers of your, can I?" She tossed her head back at Beka, who was starting to resent all this talking over her head.
"She's my wife, Shaidyna. She should know." I should know something, huh? Hello, hell, how's that ice sculpture coming along? After rising and considering them for a moment, Shaidyna inhaled deeply, approached Tall, Dark, and Generally Scary, and raised her forearm so that it formed a V with Tyr's. Beka nearly swallowed her tongue. The traditional Nietzschean greeting, that was.
But inevitably, something even stranger was to follow. Shaidyna touched two fingers to Tyr's double helix. "Tyr Anasazi, you have committed to pass on the genes of Victoria and of Barbarossa, and of the entire Kodiak pride."
In return, Tyr rubbed a thumb over her bicep where a double helix of her own would rest. To Beka, it all looked rather touchy-feely friendly, but she managed to restrain herself from speaking the caustic remark on the tip of her tongue. For a while, at least, she promised herself. "As have you for the genes of Gabrella and of Tomaron and of the entire Kodiak pride." Finally, he chose to acknowledge Beka's presence when he separated himself from Shaidyna and turned to his First Officer. "I present Shaidyna Ar'Semir, out of Gabrella by Tomaron, brother to the matriarch of the Kodiak pride."