BlasTech

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Isabelle lets herself be pulled along. Well, 'lets' is a bit generous as she is more than happy to get away from the source of ohmygodshe'sonfirenow.

Stumbling away with Crescent, she can't help but notice the nanobot's activity and its implications. These caverns aren't just carved by the nanobots - for that kind of remodeling, at that kind of speed - not complete saturation then, but likely local - perhaps tied to the location of the spirit?

Expected limitations for them though, difficulty dealing with high temperature - cooling always an issue at that scale - likely susceptibility to electrical and EMP impacts as well.

Now, if only any of that helped us at all.

What she really needed was a way to get away from her captors, or even into the systems or infrastructure of this place. Right now, she had only her wits, which were more than frazzled, to rely on to get out of this situation. None of the other resources that Akkanis or Lozano corp would provide, nobody to call on for help or to give her the tools she'd need to make something or do something.

You're also out of shoes to throw.

Thanks. Helpful.

She needed to escape from these kidnappers. Glancing at Crescent she tried to determine if they were distracted enough to make this her time to strike.

[Roll to read a person. 1 + 4 + 0 = 5. Failbelle strikes again]

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Kalaya stops to listen, drawn by the sight of one more of the Knighthood. Dima's reputation was prolific, as were the whispers of what had happened between her and the River.

She doesn't want to interrupt, so instead sits alongside Dima's retinue to watch the solemn performance, absent-mindedly patting a spot next to her for Machi to sit down.

When it's finished, and the knight registers the new arrivals, she holds up a hand in greeting.

"Hail and well met, Dima-Phraya." she says. "What brings you to this part of the Kingdoms? Are you heading to the Conclave as well?"

Huntresses of Hybrasil

You want Isabelle to act right now? Are you crazy?!

She's no alien with seemingly nigh-indistructable physiology and the apparent ability to melt the floor when angry. She's not a cat huntress, trained in close combat fighting from birth and given over to natural predatory instincts. Heck, apart from that one time that Cam annoyed her last month, she hasn't even thrown a punch in anger within the last year.

She is relatively fit at least, so she'd be good at running away. In fact, running away sounds like the perfect plan right now and 9 out of 10 internal Isabelles would agree.

So it's a mystery as to why she sees a shoe fly through the air towards the spirit.

Who threw that? She wonders, at the same time as she wonders why her hand is outstretched and her other foot is now cold.

Nine of the Isabelles turn to look at the tenth, who doesn't even seem to realise she's grabbed the main control panel.

Welp. It's been a good life. (No it hasn't!) Maybe the next one won't end so ignominiously.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

The question is a good one, and Kalaya takes her time to reply. She leads Machi along by the leash, ostensibly to keep an eye out for any further trouble. Kalaya is resolute, she is pure, she is devoted to her beliefs and will not be steered from her chosen direction - so spending one second more staring at those muscles is just trouble she doesn't need right now.

"It really comes down to how you define a teacher I guess ..." she says, thinking back.

---===---

"Again!"

Kalaya tumbles to the hard flagstones, before rising on her elbows. The blow had hurt, though she tried her best to hide it from Captain Pann. In hindsight, she should've known better.

"Stars above and Flowers below! Are you already feeling it? You'd think that after all the weeks begging 'dear daddy' to let me train you, you'd have a little more dedication to the bleedin' lesson!" he shakes his head. "Just give up and go home girl!"

The words cause Kalaya's resolve to harden - as was no doubt their intent - and the young girl picks herself back up once again. Setting her stance and looking up at the helmeted man in front of her.

"No. I'm ready."

---===---

"The most formal teacher I had was my father's master at arms; Captain Pann. He was a veteran of the fighting between Hyacinth and Dandelion and had come to Lilly looking for, and I quote, a 'quieter life'. He taught me the basics, the forms, the stances. But also knew a few tricks of his own that he was happy to share with an eager student."

---===---

"And stay down, brat, or I'm gonna teach you a lesson you really won't forget; a pretty princess like you needs to know your place!"

Kalaya grunts from the dirt, inwardly cursing her decision to wear a skirt that morning, as it made moving awkward. Above her, Prince Lin of Chrysanth smirks and crosses his arms. It was a result of her poor awareness that Lin had managed to get the drop on her, and the older boy had been quick to exact vengeance for their last encounter.

She glanced down at where her legs were tangled in the pleats of her dress, and then tracked up to the midpoint of where the boy was standing.

It turned out there was at least one upside to wearing this frilly getup - it helped hide the movement of her feet.

---===---

"I guess you could count Prince Lin one of my teachers too. Although he'd sooner chop of his braid than accept that title." she says, chuckling. "I'd stood up to him once when we'd first met, and he never forgave me for it - and took whatever chance he could to exact revenge. Unfortunately for him, I was a quick learner. His constant bullying taught me how to fight back when your opponent was stronger, taller and faster than you."

"He was a bully, and also not afraid to bring his friends to the party. And if I had to learn how to fight 'dirty' to be able to stand a chance in return, then it's not really fighting dirty in my book."

"I was also really lucky to have a friend of my own ..." she continues, smiling.

---===---

"Nowhere to run now, princess." sneers Lin, as he and his friends bear down on the two girls. Kalaya and Ven had been running from them ever since they'd crossed paths at the edges of the trade summit, but their luck had seemingly run out as they ended up in a dead end alley.

Kalaya glanced at Ven, who nodded.

"Remember Kal, just like we practiced." she whispers.

The two of them move in sync, dodging towards one of the bullies before ducking to the side. Kalaya turns and Ven plants her hands, letting the smaller girl vault upwards, stepping off the wall of the alley to land behind her attacker.

He spins to follow her, but Kalaya ignores him in favour of the second bully. A thump from behind shows that Ven has made good use of the opening, while Kalaya puts her own kick into the knee of one of the other assailants. The two of them make a break for the alley's opening, only to find the way blocked by Lin.

"You go high, I'll go low!" shouts Ven as they sprint towards him. For his part, Lin shifts his stance in response - and the girls take some satisfaction from the flicker of uncertainty on his face as they bear down on him.

Ven jumps up, tackling Lin around the chest just as Kalaya slides down to sweep out his legs. The larger boy goes down to the dirt, hard, as the two girls pick themselves up before running off, laughing.

---===---

"Princess Ven of Snapdragon was one of my oldest friends and I'd count her amongst my teachers too. Apart from a bunch of tricks and tactics we'd worked out, she taught me alot about how to fight as part of a team, with someone you could trust to have your back in a fight."

"There have been alot of other inspirations, stuff I've seen in tournies, stuff I've read in books and practiced. Too many to count. That training came with alot of bruises and a month with a broken arm in between." she finishes with a shrug.

As for the gods, well, as she'd said to Giriel, they'd never seemed to answer her when she'd called. But that wasn't to say they might not also be involved.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

There wasn't really much for Isabelle to do right now besides reflect on the current developments ... and maybe squirm a little.

The ancestor spirit! Talking to her! She was familiar with them, in theory at least - those miracles of consciousness and nanotech, preserved for generations. But she'd never heard of one out here.

As much as it was tempting to just keep clutching to Solarel and let the world continue on around her, it was time to get back in the game.

Inside, those Isabelles started getting things organised again. The thrown papers were cleared, the big table in the middle swept clean. The Isabelles that had passed out were being brought round and the glasses and checklists brought out once more. This was a mystery that would need her full attention.

The proceedings were interrupted as one Isabelle sprinted into the hall, a ream of printout in her hands. All heads turned to her, wondering what discovery warranted the display of impropriety.

Into the silence, the Isabelle proclaimed:

"She's touching our butt!!"

Bedlam resumed.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

"Any technology, no matter how advanced, is magic to those who don't understand it."

They were, Isabelle reflected, good words to live by. Particularly as she stared up at the Zaldarian vista before her. Those colours that threatened to stretch off to infinity. The dark luminescent pools that promised so much wonder, if one were just brave enough to plumb their depths and find out. This hidden mystery, unknown to anyone in her family or TC space, one that she'd never expected to find, but couldn't wait to explore. The warmth, the strength, the comfort - it wrapped around her with promises of safety and care.

Is this ... is this what love feels like?

Oh, and there were a bunch of caverns to look at too I guess.

Isabelle was definitely feeling overwhelmed. There is, after all, only so much that a mind - even one like Isabelle's - can take before it overflows with input and reverts to a flow-state. Holding on through this sensory deluge, until a calm will allow her to regroup and figure out her next moves.

Apart from a shocked squawk as Solarel shredded a very expensive boot. And a more stunned 'meep' as she was swept up, Isabelle doesn't stop staring at Solarel.

The more rational parts of her head - those Isabelles walking around in there with clipboards and glasses and all her very important lists - keep pointing out that she can't be in love, that she doesn't know this Zaldarian. That her mother would never approve of this. That Zaldarians and TC nobility did not mix like that.

Their voices are not very loud though as they too are caught up in the watching, curious as to where this magical ride will take her.

And one tiny, younger, Isabelle lurks around the edges of the crowd to stare on with stars in her eyes, a princess hat on her head and a ruffled pink gown ...

[Isabelle is Smitten with Solarel.]

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

"Machi of the Oei, you are bound until such time as a ransom is paid or your punishment served." replies Kalaya, formally, laying the ropes around her captive's wrists and pulling them tight. Carefully estimating the amount of rope needed to secure her.

Then doubling it.

She's still grinning from the fight. This, this right here, is what the Flower Kingdoms should be about. Not ownership, not Dominion. Just the boundless passion and vibrant chaos of the people who live there. Even if that passion sometimes manifested as a raiding party, it also flourished in those who would come to resist them. The N'yari and the Flowers fought often, yes, but it was with a common understanding as to the rules of the fight. Victors or losers were not harmed and a price was never asked that could not be paid. Cats raided, Knights resist. It was a dance of two opposing, but willing, partners.

Ironically, this was what Kalaya fought to preserve from the encroachment of Red Wolf. She'd more readily stand by the side of one like Machi, as opposed to surrender her people's way of life to the desolate order of Mars.

She glances at Machi, before doubling the rope again.

"You know, you'll have to tell me more about that dragon you wanted to offer me up to sometime. It'd make for a good story" she says, as she slides the gag into place.

And if her cheeks are a little red, that's just because she's still recovering from the fight and admiring respecting her adversary; The champion of Grandmother moon, the mountain herself. And if her fingers brush those arms and linger maybe a bit too long well ...

Don't get her wrong. Kalaya is a knight of her word and her heart remains true to Ven. There is simply no space for another in there. But you will occupy a very special place in her memory, dear Machi. You and your muscles will forever be etched in there as an, objectively, very impressive example of the physical form.

[Kalaya will take the XP. Kalaya is Smitten with Machi, but can't pursue it due to her two devotions: Ven and Knighthood.]

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Isabelle was currently struggling with two major problems.

The first was that she wasn't sure where to put her hands. When Solarel had landed on her, they'd been splayed to the side to try to break her fall. And this resulted in about twenty seconds of uncertain gestures before she'd settled on returning them to her sides. All the while her face was getting redder and redder, rapidly approaching the point she figured she'd catch fire.

Here lies Isabelle. Killed by spontaneous gay combustion.

At least it would be a unique epitaph.

Fortunately, The first problem soon resolved itself when Solarel finally got off her. However this soon presented the second issue, namely that she didn't speak Mandarin. It wasn't exactly a Lingua Franca in the TC, so she was reduced to simply staring in confusion at whatever noises were coming out of this Zaldarian and its weird holographic spirit thing.

"Uhh ... they're genuine Berkshires, if that's what you're asking?" she says, still not sure what is going on.

In what was perhaps a mistake, she offered her foot to the Zaldarian so that she could get a better look.

Maybe at some point she'd recognise the hand language, but that point was about fifteen minutes and a good deal of calming down away.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Isabelle offers Crescent and Lilika an apologetic shrug, smiling uncomfortably at their disbelieving stares. Inside, the tiny Isabelles are standing around a table, glasses on and stacks of papers in their hands.

We're playing it too dumb! yells one, tossing her papers down in frustration.

No, they're buying it! It means we're playing just dumb enough!

Do any of you have any idea what you're doing? replies a third, leafing through her sheaf.

I mean, there could be more than one Solarel in the galaxy. I'm just saying, it doesn't hurt to check ... says a fourth, as she leans against the wall and pouts.

As Crescent unlocks her harness, Isabelle takes care not to spill the tea as she's pushed to the shuttle's ramp. It'd be a shame to waste it after all. Stepping into the alien light, it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust.

And when they do, she almost wishes they hadn't

Are those guns?

Aieeeee! shout most of the Isabelles, throwing their papers in the air and running around the mindspace.

Oh hey, it is her. Says the fourth Isabelle. Those shorts are kind of hot.

For her part, the real Isabelle freezes up, making it all the more painful when she's tackled off her feet by an indeterminate amount of Zaldarian. Isabelle can only stare, red faced, at her assailant as they land back on the floor of the shuttle.

The tea-cup does not survive.

"HuBuh?" she says.

I think that was meant to be 'Hello'.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

"Wait, Ebon Claw? What, is the whole arena tournament just one big pirate party? I mean, I've already crossed paths with the Snow Geese and the Red Claws in just the last few days and now you guys are here to round out the trifecta."

Gotta catch em a-

Not. Helping!

Isabelle idly wondered whether whatever drug they'd hit her with caused long term brain damage. It would really explain things.

Now is not the time to lose it, Isabelle. Get out of here, get to a working comms to call for help. Then get rescued, back to civilization. Then get home. Lock the door. Then lose it.

I like that plan, it's a good one, hasn't steered us wrong before!

Technically, that plan is what got us here.

How about we skip the plans and just move on to panic?

Oh that's a good point, I second panic.

Thirded.

Isabelle gives them a good rattle, trying to stamp down the rising adrenaline so that she can focus on something productive.

"Right! Good!" she replies, with all the cool of an ice cube in a volcano. "That I'm not your type I mean. Not that you're not aesthetically appealing, objectively I mean, but I don't think you're my type either."

No, after all we like them short haired, tan skinned and with engineering degrees --

What do you mean 'I don't think'? ...

SHUT. UP.

"Who is Solarel and why would she be all the way out on this rock?" she asks, mostly to drown out the internal cacophony.

"Is she really worth bringing your [pack] out here?" she asks, making a passable effort at the Hybrasillian. All those language courses, ostensibly for interstellar business, were really paying off here. If she could keep them talking, maybe she could find an opportunity.

"Oh, and do you have any biscuits?"

[Roll to read a person. 1 + 6 + 0 - squeaking through with a 7. What do you love most? How can I get you to slip up?]