| abstract | - Alastair gives the Demarian an intent look for a moment. "How many microorganisms are there in your body right now?" He asks in a slightly dismissive rhetorical tone. "Can you tell me what any one of them are doing?" He shrugs. "For all your bluster Commorro clearly does a better job of it than you. She's probably just irritated by your ignorance." He gives a slightly evasive smile. "I know I am." Feren enters the docking hub from the tradeport hatchway, slender fingers laced together as he contemplates the spread of starships in their berths. His lips are drawn taut below a sharp nose. His eyes glow a roiling green-blue at the moment. Ashenmane huffs and his ears flatten for a moment. His tail starts to swish agitatedly behind him and he replies to the woman, "I am a noble from the House Sandwalker, no concept is beyond my comprehension. I was merely expressing that if she were a good host, she would try to cater to the needs of her guests, especially those of high stature like myself." With a quick lift of his head, Ash dismisses the words of the male and adds, "Well, apparently since neither of you know where I can find this Silvereye, I am wasting my time here." Kit emerges from the Kamikaze with a duck - one hand brushing aside a tangle of cables and wires draping like vines from the ceiling just inside the airlock hatch. A bag is slung across her chest, its slim shape tucked protectively close as she begins to make her way down the ramp. Emma rests the book down in her lap and then yawns. "Oh, congratulations for you," she remarks with annoyance. "Then you'll understand what I mean when I talk about shifting universes, breaks in time and space." She raises a hand up to the bridge of her nose and then stands up from the foldable chair. "If you haven't realised it, your former station in life means anything. To the Lotorians, you're no one of importance." Alastair and Emma are near the Gravitas, speaking with Ashenmane who is near the bulkhead. Kit has just left the Kamikaze and has a pack with her. Feren quirks his head at an angle as he takes an interest in the conversation between Emma and the Demarian. He unlaces his fingers, smoothing the front of his jacket, and then strides in the direction of the Gravitas. Naoi returns from tradeport, a bag tossed over her shoulder, the thin tie string serving as her grip as well. Kit casts a habitual glance over the hub as she begins to move toward the tradeport, when she pauses mid-stride upon spying those gathered near the Gravitas. After a moment's consideration, she turns her path to head instead toward the small group. Grayback steps out of the hatch of the Artemis, a paw idly straighting out part of his mane. As he descends a quick glance is paid to the bay to see who's about. Ashenmane actually lets out a low-pitched laugh at Emma's words. From beneath the mask it sounds a bit menacing with just the right amount of reverb. "Predictable words from a predictable race. I am perfectly aware of the situation in this... place. I don't need to explain myself or my intentions to the likes of you." He is momentarily distracted by the new activity in the port, his glowing 'eyes' falling over each of the new arrivals in turn. "I think we might be dealing with one of the ancients, Doctor Hall," Emma remarks to Alastair, though strangely enough not seeming worried by the strange laugh produced by the Demarian's mask. "Most of them seem very slow when attempting to grasp new ideas and concepts. Especially when they disrupt their way of life." She waves her hand dismissively and also turns to regard those approaching the conversation. "Hi?" she says, and it appears that she really hasn't taken much note of who exactly is approaching. Naoi looks to the gathering near the Gravitas, eyebrows rising, and she too migrates closer. She does not interject though, preferring instead to listen. If such a thing is allowed. "Such disruptions are traumatic, however, and should not be taken lightly," offers the Aukami as he stops in the vicinity of the Gravitas, eyes apparently settling on the Demarian. "You *do* stand out, I must say." Like a strong gravitational pull, the ongoing conversation tugs on Grayback's curiousity and he too makes his way towards it, ears perked and tail idly swishing as goes to see what the fuss is about. Alastair smirks. "I'll bet." The cyborg says in a slightly nasty tone. "Then again, some of the medievals seemed to grasp things easily enough. Maybe it's just him." He gives a slight shrug, and heads towards the airlock of the Zero Gravitas. Ashenmane pauses to regard Greyback, his light blue gaze fixed on him for a few seconds longer than the others. His head nods ever so slightly in acknowledgement of the fellow Demarian. His attention is taken by Feren and he tilts his head to the side, not sure at first what to make of the comment. "Thank-you.. I suppose," he says slowly, and after a beat adds, "I'm really not so disagreeable once I allow you to get to know me." Kit's eyes flick from the Demarian - originally the largest being present - to the Aukami, her gaze lingering upon the latter without apology for the frank appraisal. Then, her expression giving a minuscule tightening, she resolutely ignores both in favor of focusing upon Johanson. "The Gravitas has a unique but tried-and-true method of gaining market attention, apparently," she greets. Naoi circles around the party, moving to join Johanson on her left side. She does not say anything, but she does watch, a pair of gray eyes taking in the assorted individuals that make up the group near the Gravitas. Grayback draws near and stands near the group, the gaze from Ashemane noticed and a nod offered in return as Grayback takes a few moments to listen in. Emma turns her head and looks towards the Aukami. "You are right, my friend," she agrees. "However, for those of us transplanted from other universes, we need to quickly catch up with what's going on and adjust. But when people are moaning about their lost positions in life, it doesn't help. It's either strike out into this brand new universe or die as a simple footnote in its history." Then she nods to Alastair. "I think you're right, Doctor Hall. I think it is." Then she looks towards Kit and gives a solemn nod. "Unfortunately yes. However, that was a piece of publicity I wasn't expecting myself. If it wasn't for a friend, I might have been in dire straights. Oh, and I should also tell you that the agreement we were talking about has been approved." She looks back towards Ashenmane, though she seems a little startled when she notices Naoi's new position beside her. "I am Doctor Feren Tudom," the Aukami replies to Ashenmane. "I sympathize with the plight of the Outverser, especially one who looks so different as yourself. If you truly want to accomplish anything in Hiverspace, then you must do whatever you can to fit in. Strangers are viewed with suspicion. This is particularly true for Outversers. You are here because of the Kamir. The Kamir are not regarded with the most sparkling reputation." "I am Ashenmane" the large, copper masked Demarian starts, but stumbles to find a last name. "Ashenmane Sandwalker." His posture relaxes some which gives him a bit more of a slouch than normal. "I am a survivor, I can cope. Of course, not by my own choice. But it has been hard to get my bearings here. Especially hard to get the basic necessities of a few servants, a decent-sized dwelling and a year supply of valerian root." The Aukami reaches into his jacket and plucks from it a shiny, slim card of glossy blue paper. Then the paper changes color, shifting from blue to green to pale yellow to white, before cycling again. He extends the card toward Ashenmane. The words FEREN TUDOM, APPLIED GENETICS are printed on it. "Contact me, if the urge strikes to truly immerse yourself in this new universe." Grayback raises a bushy eyeridge at Ashenmane's 'shopping list'. "You call that basic necessities? If you think you're going to be pampered and catered to here, then you're in for a shock worse than grabbing a power coupling with your bare paws. Nobility means nothing here... in fact, you could be the richest person of the Orion Arm, and it would be useless here. Time to search for those hidden talents and get dirty, pal, or get left in the dust." he says, his ears settling back a bit and his tail twitches a bit more rapidly. "Well, in which case, the dessemination of VCS's products should take an even higher priority than before, no?" Kit muses with an up-arched brow before Johanson's conclusion draws a long breath from her and a nod of acknowledgment. Ashenmane's self-introduction distracts her for a moment - the name of Sandwalker gaining a sideways glance - before Feren's actions and words earn an absent-minded frown. Naoi watches the interaction between Aukami and Demarian with the patience of someone who does not know what is going on, or cares to learn, instead considering Emma for a moment and shrugging at the woman's small surprise at seeing her. "Shadow." Amusement battles with some bitterness in that lone word, looking about the docking bay once more. Ashenmane glaces down at the offered card and takes it. After a supplementary glance and nod back to Feren, he tucks the card into his vest. "Well, I have been told that one must make a living here," he replies to the Aukami. "I just haven't decided what would be the best for me yet." He turns his attention back to Grayback and snorts, "This place is one broken transmission, repeating over and over. You need to relax of you'll blow a gasket." Johanson gives a nod to Kit. "It should, but that rests in Miss Bradly's court and not mine, Captain Kit" she says with an apologetic smile. She blinks at the Demarian and seems to consider something. She goes to reply, before her attention is caught by Naoi's sole question and her brow furrows deeply. "Shadow? Oh! Excellent. I was wondering what you were going on about, sis." Grayback smirks a toothy smirk. "This is relaxed. You should see my when I'm angry." he responds. "However, truth is truth, and you'd better start accepting some." The Aukami ponders Ashenmane for a moment longer, his lips breaking into a faint smile. "Hekayti, I think," he muses. Then he regards the other Demarian. "Now, now. You should show more forbearance under these trying circumstances." Ashenmane smiles under his mask, the uncovered sides of his face and ears raising slightly in the only indication of such. "I would welcome it, some other time perhaps," he says to Grayback, posture straigtening momentarily. His next words are directed back to Feren, "You seem like a smart fellow, and so far one of the few people I've been pleased to meet so far. I've been looking for someone named Silvereye, maybe you could help me? Or at least direct me to where he might be?" Feren lifts an eyebrow. "Ah, yes, the Minister of Outverser Affairs, or so I am given to understand. He is one of the anointed ones in service to the great vessel that we all call home. I have seen him in the refugee enclave, from time to time. Quite a person of the people, it would seem. No servants to speak of." He offers nothing further on this point. "Until we meet again." Feren turns and strides languidly toward the tradeport. Kit inclines her head, conceding the point to Johanson. Her gaze slides to Naoi at the noncomittal comment, acknowledging the woman's presence with only a blink before she is pulling away from the conversation. A last, wary look is cast toward the Aukami, particularly at his self-directed musings, before she departs altogether - headed toward the tradeport which she had been aiming toward earlier.
- From: [[]] You need a braying laugh, a raucous anecdote and a taste for wine. How hard can it be? [Find the rest of the story at ]
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