[b]Redana![/b]

"Engage them all directly -" the Hermetician's artificial voice stuttered a little, then he let out a surprisingly melodic artificial sigh. "I see."

He is silent for a moment, and you can hear the fans whirring as he processes whatever he's thinking about.

"Princess Redana, are you at all curious to walk the Saffron Path? Some days you demonstrate a deep curiosity and enthusiasm for engines and machinery. Other days you seem content to charge headlong into battle like a mere soldier. Which do you wish to be?"

[b]Vasilia![/b]

The music changes tune and tempo. The whole band has joined in, playing a jaunty and rolling melody in unison. Songs as old as ancient Gaia ring out, lead by the accordion and spoken in a language that long ago lost its meaning. Da-dada~

"So I have to ask," said Galnius from the serving window, interrupting your quiet moment. "Where [i]are[/i] we going -?" they almost said 'Captain' but stumbled over the word a bit. "Is it Ceron? The Princess wants to get an army to launch a coup?"

[b]Alexa![/b]

The words coming from the Assistant Secretary are a constant flow, a burbling tide of language and thought and ideas and questions. It fades into the background like the ocean, happy to continue going for all eternity regardless of your input or lack thereof.

"Hey," the voice cuts through the waves like a hydrofoil.

It's Princess Epistia. Kneeling down next to you, arm in a sling - she has the character of absolute watchfulness to her. Her physical motions are slow and deliberate, but in a constant steady series of adjustments that make her aware of everything going on around her. She has a handsomeness to her, a masculine toughness that makes her few scars shine out as fascinating and defining marks of endurance.

"Brainsquids are like... think of them as brain cells," said Epistia. "They're helpless on their own. Waiting for sensory input, issuing commands and following protocols that don't mean anything to anyone outside their system. You gotta engage them the right way."

She produces a crumpled up sheet of paper from her pocket and offers it to you along with a pen. "Give him a question or piece of data like this."

[b]Bella![/b]

You know beauty, Bella. You know how to recognize it, how to wear it, how to wield it. It's as natural to you as the steady hands of Aphrodite adjusting that ribbon just so, smoothing out the curls and braids until they're work fit for a god. But you have no idea how any of it impacts Lorventi. Her eyes, stance, body language is all inscrutable - that steady gaze could contain heart-pounding desire or asexual boredom and you wouldn't know which.

"Methods exist," she said. "A sacred hunt can be declared, the forms and procedures observed, the rituals maintained - [i]precision[/i] applied to the removal of the threat without the loss of sacred life or offense given to the gods. But," she clicked her beak again, "your decision stands. Of course. Praetor."

It is hard not to feel like that intense, unblinking focus is considering you as the subject of some form of hunt.

"But to the broader problem. The Toxicrene adept has indicated that Princess Redana has accumulated a band of followers and bodyguards. Loyal enough to come back for her. To defy Imperial edicts. Troublesome," her speech often moved like that, shorter and shorter sentences followed by pauses where she seemed to collect herself and unclench her fist. "They should be targeted and removed. I believe. If it is your will?"