[b]Redana![/b]

"Hera..." said Lacedo, fingers running across Redana's knuckles, eyes down cast. "I don't think how well you treat [i]her[/i] is the most important thing."

The light changes and all eyes turn towards the sky. Yours, the Alcedi, Hades ever-present, and most ominous of all, Poseidon world-breaker.

There in the stars above hangs the [i]Yakanov[/i], no longer a dim shadow of distant metal but a new sun. Saffron energy courses off it - slowly at first, but then with steadily increasing intensity. No less than three mighty engines have been pushed to their fullest setting and the throb of their power casts this whole world in shadow. Gravity lessens and in places reverses, and small rocks and silvery columns of sand start drifting loosely up into the air. From the jungle, a cacophony. 

"All hands!" roars the voice of the Elder, a screech so harsh it cuts through the awe. "Enemy station charging primary armaments! Take combat positions and brace for impact!"

Through the chaos of Hermes' rising star you almost miss the last stranger in the crowd. Demeter Harvest-Mother, young and crowned with the delight of spring. She is smiling because, for all of this, spring is a time for smiling, but she is not watching Hermes' star like the others. She is watching [i]you[/i].

[b]Dolce![/b]

Blending in with the Order of Hermes can be challenging sometimes. For example, at any minute all of them might drop to their knees and start blaring enraptured chanting with no warning whatsoever. Moving through the prostrate crowd is a difficult thing involving lots of careful stepping - avoiding saffron fabric entirely is impossible so you must simply do your best to ensure you aren't stepping on any limbs. You don't always succeed and are rewarded for your mistakes with harsh language and rude gestures.

The vibrations running through the ship make your task even harder. A pounding rumble - three distinct beats working in parallel - runs through everything, causing plates and glasses to vibrate right off table edge and the sound of each crystal plate shattering on the ground is like a dagger in your heart. 

But you're not alone in kneeling. Lady Demeter, Queen of Plenty, is picking her way through the crowd with glass-slippered feet, emerald dress rendered radiant amidst the field of saffron. She leaves trailing vines in her wake and is attended by a woman who you certainly hope is a divine attendant and not a murderous assassin disguised as a Hermetic Priest. You aren't optimistic.

They are together heading towards the Magos' vault but this is a situation where movement speed is limited by one's ability to politely navigate a crowd.

[b]Alexa![/b]

"Hmm," said Artemis as the ship quakes before you. Her face holds faint discomfort as her eyes flick between you, Isty and Ramses. "You know. If you're [i]busy[/i] you can come back later."

She clears her throat and looks away. It's an [i]intensely[/i] awkward moment. 

"I mean, I won't [i]wait[/i]," she elaborates. "I'm doing a favour for Lady Demeter here. You know, pruning the... er, flowers and all that. But probably no one will die? Physically. You know, because of the whole thing."

The Goddess of the Hunt is not a famed communicator. 

[b]Bella![/b]

Oh, the gods had such a vile sense of timing didn't they?

The fur on your neck raises at the sound of the distant gentle rumble, the spool of temporal data from your Auspex translating into the physical sensation of being young and afraid. But it's not just that - beyond the smell of Vasilia's crude perfume you can feel more scents start to move. You can smell maple sap and human sweat and a faint pulsing flow of deliciously hypnotic taste... it's like Beljani's mind-distorting scent, but different - more artificial and more natural at once. The Anemoi swallows scents so for you to perceive this it must be close - but still you jump when you hear the pounding on your door, slow and heavy like it's coming from a place of exhaustion.