Avatar of Syrenrei

Status

Recent Statuses

10 mos ago
Current Out of town until Thursday and the Wi-Fi is spotty. =(
1 like
1 yr ago
Been under the weather for the past couple days, posts tomorrow!
2 likes
1 yr ago
Unfortunately, there are people everywhere that like to shame others for their tastes with an air of false superiority, even in RP.
5 likes
1 yr ago
You would think, but there are so many people that make wild assumptions, and force you to create rules.
4 likes
1 yr ago
It's going to be one of those days, I can feel it. Hope everyone is having a more pleasant Friday the 13th!

Bio

About Me:
Just turned 40 (sadly), happily married with two sons. I've been role-playing since I was 14 years old, starting with AOL chatrooms and instant messenger (the dark days), before graduating to IRC, Gaia, RPNation, and then this website. When not roleplaying I am a GM of a raiding guild on Stormrage server, listen to Kpop, read books and manhwa, and binge on TV shows/movies when I am stressed (sci fi, fantasy, drama, Korean).

I'd love to get to know other RP folks, especially if you're my age!

What I like/want in RPs:
Romance (necessity, I respect not everyone likes it)
At least 2 paragraphs per post
Sci Fi, (High, Low, Urban) Fantasy, Futuristic, Supernatural, some modern or psuedo-historical
Someone who plays male characters
Plots that allow me not to have to write realistic melee action (but I love to read it!)
Characters 18+
Players 18+
Intrigue/mystery in a story
Cooperative world building

What I don't like:
Players under 18
Children or teenage characters
Western or prehistoric settings
Plots with only action
Almost all furry/anthro pairings
G-rated romance

Message me if you think we'd be good RP partners for each other! Please note I do require romance, though I certainly do NOT want that to be the summation of the story nor do I necessarily want it to be "fluffy." I also adore romances that have with characters with significant flaws and baggage, where there is conflict and disagreement, as there would be in real relationships. Some mundanes/players believe that all love stories develop "organically" in the story- but my real life experience has taught me you can have no chemistry with someone that would be great for you, all the chemistry in the world for someone you never thought you'd like, and romance is not 'organic' and predictable in practice. As a mundane/player we make the decision for romance because, quite frankly, we aren't the characters no matter how alive they might feel. They don't truly exist physically to have chemistry. If you feel differently we will not be a good fit for each other.

Additionally, I require players separate themselves from this characters. This should go without saying, but just because we write a romance together does not mean there are real feelings beneath. I am truly happily married. Please, please, please don't expect any fiction to translate into real life.

Most Recent Posts

No sooner had she coaxed Rene to submit to sleep than Solae silently stepped back and surveyed her surroundings with a soft sigh. It would be preferable to maneuver him to the bed but there was no practical way to do so. Even if he did not weigh substantially more (mentally she could only make rough calculations), she had no real physical strength to speak of, and lifting any amount of dead weight was no easy task. The chair was an adequate resting place but she doubted he would obtain the same quality of sleep while sitting relatively upright as opposed to laying flat on his side, back, or stomach. Staring at him a few moments longer, her gaze fixating on the curve of his neck, she worried whether or not this would cause a sore muscle come down. It was a silly thing to fret over given their recent dire circumstances and yet she could not halt the thoughts. Her beloved should not only be healthy but he ought to be as comfortable as possible.

There was nothing to be done. Resigning herself to leave her soldier just as he was she withdrew from the room. Had he been any less fatigued she might have lingered with apprehension he'd stir when her presence departed. Fortunately he was lost in such a deep slumber there was no risk that it would be hindered nor interrupted by her restlessness. The marquise turned the knob as quietly as possible so that she would also not disturb her hosts. Tychon's low rumbling baritone drifted from a room down the hall as he valianty tried to persuade Damaris into bed. In response the girl giggled, squealed, and padded around in jubilant defiance.

"Can't sleep?" Julia asked kindly as Solae entered the kitchen.

Luminators tacked to the wall still basked the kitchen in a gentle glow of pale gold, not unlike the aristocrat's genetically modified hair color. The home's floors were a composite manufactured from ground seashells and coral dust mixed with cement, the latter of which was more expensive on the oceanic planet, then smoothed and finished with a polycarbonate. The late Marquess and Marquise Falia preferred exotic woods, plush woven rugs, and expensive stone native to worlds two jumps away from their estate. Panopontus's residents did not have the luxury of importing building supplies more than absolutely necessary. Those that did were wealthy merchants that profited from unfair trade agreements to their advantage.

"I can't either," the middle-aged mother admitted when she did not get an immediate response from the stunned noblewoman. "I feel like I was in a fog but seeing Damaris again has electrified me. I thought I'd give Tychon a chance to wrangle Damaris while I try to calm myself. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Oh no, no thank you," Solae replied quickly, not wanting to inconvenience the family any further when she still felt an imposition at best. Every compassionate gesture from these innocents made her heart ache for their future. Were the duke's forces to fail to recognize the aid given to the fugitives, Tychon and Julia would still continue to live in poverty despite their hard work, and that felt insufferably unjust. Blasphemous as it might be, Solae did not know why she deserved finery based on birth alone and these virtuous souls could never earn a fraction of her financial security. Perhaps when this was all over she would investigate a means to reward them for their hospitality and generosity.

"Is Sir Rene asleep?" Julia inquired with a tilt of her head towards the nearby guest bedroom.

"Yes," she answered with a small smile. "After trying to salvage a boat to ferry us over here, outfitting it with an improvised engine, navigating us from our island across the sea, and then walking a bit of a distance to get here... he deserves a long, peaceful rest. Julia, we sincerely appreciate everything you are doing for us. Not many would be so charitable to strangers."

"Nonsense! What you did for us- you are family to us now. This is the least we could do. I hope you do not take offense, Lady Solae- "

"Please, just call me Solae," the linguist interrupted with her request.

"Solae, you look very tired," Julia finished. It was undoubtedly true. Since the discovery of Damaris on the beach of the caldera there had been no pause for even a quick nap. Though she had not exerted herself with manual labor she had been companionship, entertainment, counselor, mechanic, and coordinator during much of that span of time, and it had taken a toll she could not entirely ignore. There were corpses with less pallid complexions. "Are you missing your home?" the matron finally ventured. "You spoke of going to see Rene's family but not yours."

"Oh my... my parents are deceased," she struggled to confess. Surprisingly her voice was stable if not pitched higher from the tension in her statement.

"I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean..." Julia tried to frantically apologize.

"It's quite all right," Solae assured as she cleared her throat. "There was no way you could know. I do miss them but I have Rene in my life and for that I am thankful. I am also glad to see that I was able to mend a family torn asunder by a natural disaster. These little things help ease the pain of my loss, silly as it might be."

Julia considered and, in an uncharacteristically bold move, crossed the gap between the two and embraced the other woman in an endearing hug. The marquise's eyes brimmed with tears at the affection, not just because she needed affirmation that there were victories in their circumstances, but because Julia seemed to be a mother she did not have in that moment of need. "Come on, let me tuck you into bed," she suggested as she felt the golden-haired 'princess' start to relax under her grasp. The intuition of the lower-class citizen was more finely attuned than many of the Empress's trusted advisors. "I'm sure you'll feel better by morning. We all will."
"We were just explaining to Julia," Solae began with a calm, diplomatic gesture to the woman she could only assume was his wife, "your daughter washed up on the shore of an island where we had landed our ship. I can't say that we anticipated having a guest, but I am grateful to have met such a strong, brave young lady." The marquise's words were sincere. As one might assume with a noble who voluntarily pursued employment at an embassy, Solae was an incredibly social person by nature. Her interactions with Mia, the Park couple, the Syshin, and then the servants of the slaver's plantation had been proof of this aspect of her disposition. It was not that her soldier-turned-fiance was lacking, but rather she often believed in the more than the merrier. For obvious reasons the coup had made it challenging to fulfill this desire.

"They're off-worlders," Julia added, "Had to do an emergency landing because their ship is low on fuel. I told them they could stay the night in the guest bedroom. It's the least we can do," she added with an eagerness to repay the perceived heroism of the aristocratic couple. Both of them would object to such a lofty label but it was undeniable that Damaris would not be back in the safety of her home if not for their intervention. To the parents of the energetic girl they had saved they were veritable saints worthy of anything and everything they could give.

"Thank you, but that's not necessary," Solae reassured, "We have a couple errands to run around the city. In addition to getting fuel, I'd like to swing by the communication center. Rene has been out of contact with his family for a while and I'd like to track down the most current information on his father." It sounded as if she was divulging the entirety of her reason for visiting the center, but Rene knew that Solae was omitting and obfuscating the majority of her motivation. Despite his apprehensions about the dangers of a potential investigation, she wanted to download every bit of information she could surrounding the murder of his former lover, the changes in the political strata since then, and any news that could be tangentially related. Contacting his father was one of their smaller and less suspicious goals.

"You can't go wandering around after dark," Damaris's father insisted as they sipped at their beverages. "It isn't safe. None of the street lights are working, we've had desperate people taking advantage of the situation by looting buildings at night when no one is looking, and they're conserving power by turning off half the grids when everyone's supposed to be asleep." Solae just barely kept her lips from turning downward at this rather convincing argument for waiting until the morning to wander around. Though he had not stated so explicitly, she also strongly suspected the paternal figure would warn her no one would be bartering or selling fuel at this hour either. After a pause a small sigh escaped her lips. Rene was armed and able to keep her safe but there was a vast difference between shooting criminals, or would-be assailants, and gunning down starving thieves after a typhoon robbed them of all their worldly possessions.

"It kind of you to worry, but I am afraid I would bring unwanted attention to myself during daylight hours," she replied with practiced ease and grace. At this admission Damaris's father blinked in confusion, noticing the color of her hair for the first time. He was not typically an oblivious man but he had been so enthralled with the reappearance of a daughter he had been convinced was killed that he had paid little attention to the details of the pair seated at the kitchen table. Solae watched realization dawn on his features as he absorbed not only her physical features but the lilt of her voice that was exceedingly proper for a peasant.

"Tychon," Julia said as she turned towards the burly man still carrying Damaris in his arms. It was hard to tell who was more unwilling to let go- Damaris or her precious Papa. "What you took them tomorrow? Lady Solae can wear one of my shawls to help keep her hair hidden. You know the roads better than any map and if you tell people what they did for us they might sell the things they need to them," she suggested with enthusiasm.

Solae felt a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. There was already an overwhelming sense of guilt for having dragged her marine beau into the disastrous vortex that was her life at present. His health had been jeopardized repeatedly when he could have simply disappeared into the chaos of New Concordia and invented a new life for himself. Their continued association with one another, and his role as her savior, enlarged any target already on his existence. Before Panopontus everyone they came into contact with knew the implications of their assistance and accepted the peril readily. Tychon, Julia, and Damaris were innocents. They were stumbling into a bloody confrontation they did not know existed. Once word spread to this planet they had plausible (and understandable) deniability they were harboring fugitives. A sliver of risk, no matter how minuscule, on such a warm, loving family still made her heart heavy.

"Yes, that is a wonderful idea Julia!" Tychon announced as she laughed heartily and swung around Damaris joyously.

"I'll go clean the guest bedroom," Julia said as she hurriedly went to the adjoining room.

A week prior if someone had told the young marquise that she would have a decision made on her behalf by two well-meaning laborers she would have thought it a joke. Her mouth had opened as mentally she had begun to formulate a persuasive counter, yet nothing escaped past her lips. Lords and ladies laughed behind painted silken screens as the foolishness of the poor and yet she had been more expertly managed into an obligation to follow someone else's plan by this happily wedded, middle-aged, oblivious duo than any courtly manipulations. After a few seconds she turned and shrugged to Rene with a silent laugh in her tone. "I guess we're staying for a bit. It would be good for you to rest after the boat ride here," she advised softly without a thought to her own mounting exhaustion.
Despite having brought Damaris back to her home, thus making her both welcome and wanted in the residence, Solae couldn't help but feel that she was an intruder in a precious and intimate mother daughter moment. There was something about the manner in which parent and child clung to each other so desperately that made her heart ache. The loss of her own mother was still fresh in her mind though she had avoided speaking of it except in passing commentary. Selene Falia had been neither especially warm nor outwardly emotional, and there was no physical resemblance to speak of between her and Damaris's mother, yet something in he latter's gaze evoked a familiar lingering sentimentality. For the briefest moment the golden-haired diplomat yearned to walk into her sprawling estate and say something purposefully controversial that would instigate an argument with her parents. She wished against reason to be scolded in the haughty tone that was reserved for when her mother wanted to verbally bludgeon the strong-willed heir. Death had made the most heated of arguments precious memories. In retrospect it was possible such vocal sparring that had been the female Falia expression of love just as a simple hug was here.

"We thought..." the middle-aged woman sobbed as squeezed the adolescent with unadulterated joy.

It was clear what she thought given the broadcast she had been both listening to and watching. One could scarcely imagine how exceedingly unexpected this reunion was. The names of the missing that scrolled across the screen were presumed dead given the intensity of the storm and the time that had passed since its initial assault. Officially the authorities were not giving up hope there were survivors. Chances were a few lucky individuals would be dug out of the rubble of their demolished homes in the next twenty-four hours. In their heart of hearts, though, San Roayo knew they would discover more corpses than living citizens.

"She washed up on the shore of an island," Solae tried to explain. Damaris's mother was intently focused on the miraculous sensation of holding her daughter in her arms again rather than fretting over how it came to be. From her experience the marquise knew that curiosity and a need to understand would follow as this initial exuberance gradually faded. She also felt increasingly awkward standing there watching in silence. Giving a vague recounting of how their circumstances developed was preferable to quietly standing just inside the doorway and waiting for their existence to be acknowledged.

"It's true Mama! I was carried to an island and I almost hit Mister Rene with a stick because I didn't know he was a knight," Damaris proudly recounted. "Then Miss Solae stopped me, and they took me back to their ship to sleep, and gave me things to eat." Normally the girl was much more eloquent but she was so excited and overly eager to recite the tale that she simplified it to the extreme.

"You almost hit... a knight?" Damaris's mother asked in mixture of confusion and horror. For the first time she looked at the two strangers that had entered her home. Eyes drifted from Rene to Solae and then back again as she began to comprehend that she was in the presence of nobility. Wisps and errant ringlets of aureate had spilled past the edges of Solae's hood and onto her shoulders. This unnatural coloration called attention to their high cheekbones, enviable physiques, and other features indicative of elite breeding. Beleaguered and weary as they were they still stood out under the scrutiny of the common man. The matriarch let out a strangled gasp.

"May we sit down?" Solae asked politely as she gestured to the small table tucked against the wall. There were four chairs, two tucked under each side, that were clean but neither matched each other nor the table. Mentally the linguist considered that someone ought to force her peers to descend from their villas, castles, and vacation homes to the planets of poor colonists. The empress had been making strides in surrounding herself with trustworthy people as she seized power, but making certain the politicians granted title also had empathy for the rest of the Stellar Empire was paramount in Solae's mind. If they were forced to face the conditions of their lessers it could teach humility and give them insight to the challenges that lay ahead.

"Oh yes, of course, of course," Damaris's mother said as she bobbed her head and furtively tried to wipe her hands on her smock. Before anyone could try to pull back one of the chairs for her Solae had already done so herself once permission had been granted to take a seat. From her posture Rene could tell she was tired but obstinately fighting her fatigue. Her shoulders sagged slightly, there was a subtle curve to her spine that was not present when she was more alert, and she failed to cross her legs over one another or at the ankles as she typically did. The anxiety borne of undertaking the endeavor to cross the ocean with their young charge had taken a toll. She would not be relieved until they were back in the Bonaventure and enjoying the protection its shielded hull offered.

"I apologize, it was a bit of a walk to get here," Solae admitted as an attempt to excuse any minor breaches in etiquette that existed or might follow. "What Damaris said is true, she did swing a stick at Rene, but it was understandable she was startled to find us on the island. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Solae and this is my fiance, Rene."

Damaris's mother moved forward and took both of the marquise's hands in her own as tears brimmed in her eyes. "Thank you, miss. If you hadn't brought Damaris back to me I... I..." she struggled for words. Not one to judge another's feelings, much less after something so traumatic, Solae only smiled reassuringly.

"She saved herself, we just helped her return a little more quickly than she might of if we hadn't been there," was the reply. It felt wrong to accept gratitude as if it was their effort alone that had guaranteed Damaris's livelihood. Arguably the scrawny brunette would have dehydrated or starved before she was found, but Solae didn't want to discount the fortitude it took to endure the historic waves that had tossed the girl about, the determination it took to crawl up the beach, or the stubborn will to live that had kept her from giving up when she thought she was on a deserted caldera. "We needed to come to San Roayo regardless," she added so that it didn't seem like the child had inconvenienced the couple in a major way.

"Where are my manners? I am Julia," Damaris's mother introduced herself. "Let me... let me get you some water to drink. Are you hungry? I do not have much but I am happy to cook for you. Please, let me do something to thank you," she pleaded earnestly. Solae bit the inside of her cheek pensively. It was apparent that Julia felt obligated to repay their kindness despite every attempt to convey that such gestures were not anticipated nor necessary. Uncertain how to proceed she turned towards Rene and raised her eyebrows as if to ask if he wanted to have a late night meal or politely decline.
Like any noblewoman, Solae was quite adept at concealing her emotions from the most discerning eyes. Rene was still able to recognize the tell-tale creases at the edge of her mouth and a darkening of her gaze that reflected frustration. Whether this was because he was an aristocrat that had been trained at an early age to read the hidden emotions of his peers or because his fiancee was simply not putting forth much effort to disguise her feelings it was impossible to tell. What was clear, however, was that Damaris was blissfully oblivious that there was anything amiss in her temporary maternal figure. Without any prompting she skipped ahead to lead them towards her home located on the northern side of the large island. Any trauma the youth might have suffered from the sea had been forgotten in the glee of growing closer to her parents and the safety of their presence.

When Rene had presented the plan of sailing the repaired barge to San Roayo his marquise paramour had expressed concern. While it was true they had been successful in escaping and eluding the duke's rebellion thus far, for longer many might dream them capable, it had not been without struggle and injury. Solae had had survived the assault on the embassy but had to watch her closest friend and colleagues die in front of her eyes. She had stumbled upon Rene, the one person on the entire planet that might understand and help her, but she had lost her parents and her home. They had found refuge in Lord Armor's mansion but discovered an atrocious bounty put on her head, had to perform an emergency surgical procedure, and fled with little with the estate was ransacked. The assistance of the Parks had been invaluable, and the Syshin had seen past their apprehension to trust and help, but Solae had very nearly been kidnapped by slavers. The attack on the smuggler's plantation had netted them healing for Rene, a ship on which to integrate Mia, and supplies, but they had both been seriously wounded and the heiress to the Falia fortune had nearly died. Now that the Bonaventure was stranded on the caldera with little fuel she did not have confidence in their luck.

"We might be on Panopontus longer than is safe," she whispered. Without method or materials with which to make the barge salvageable they had only the inflatable raft on which to depend. Returning to their vessel sans Damaris would be less weight on the raft but she had serious doubts it was sturdy enough to endure the ocean's waves. The thick rubbery material it was constructed out of was durable but chosen with the expectation it would only be utilized for emergencies. No one in manufacturing had anticipated two imperial citizens fleeing from a coup and trying to use it as a prolonged method of transport. Given the option Solae would take the risk. As terrible as it would be to found by their enemies it was still preferable to drowning.

"I know we had to bring Damaris home," the diplomat sighed, "but I can't help but feel this might be our undoing." Before the adolescent had jumped out from behind brush and swung a plank at Rene's head going to San Roayo was not a moral obligation. They had the freedom to either seize the opportunity, and the dangers accompanying it, or to decline and see how long they could stretch out their food rations. With how well Solae had packed it would have been weeks at minimum before they would need to worry. True, the Empress would have remained ignorant of the violence in the sector, and they could be labeled deserters, but few would have truly blamed them sincerely.

They had landed on one of the western shores. City proper was to their right as they trudged north, their clothing soaked and the ground below them soft and muddy, with beach to their left. Large chunks of coral, vegetation ripped from the ground, and pieces of debris from nearby structures littered the sand. Jagged rock jutted out intermittently and proved the coastline was a mixture of approachable and hostile to ships. They had been fortunate to find a section that didn't rip their boat in half.

Buildings on Panopontus were vastly different than those on New Concordia. There were far more residences farther inland, but the ones they passed all had been raised above the ground on supports of concrete, metal alloy, or a dark grey synthetic composite. The tallest in their line of vision was four stories tall; most were only three including the functional bottom floor with the support beams. Not every home had survived the monstrous storm. Smaller houses without multiple layers of reinforcement had been flattened into piles of rubble. A rough visual approximation was that a third of what had been upright a week ago was still remaining. If Solae remembered correctly the hurricane had breached the island from the southeast before passing over, perhaps devastating smaller islands before San Roayo, and that was why so many were spared in this location. If she was a betting woman she would have wagered that most of the disaster relief services were focused on the corner that taken the brunt of the assault.

"Damaris, please watch where you step!" Solae called ahead. The girl turned around and giggled, nodding her head enthusiastically, before she started to prance again. The more that the diplomat looked around the more she realized that there were only a handful of trees in sight. Older giants had been toppled, most onto barren roadways and walking paths, but a few into yards, and at least laid precariously on a roof. Smaller trees had been so thoroughly obliterated there was only a fresh stump, splinters, and branches as any evidence they had existed at all. She wasn't certain if she should be more impressed at the savagery of Mother Nature or the efficacy of architecture that this much of an San Roayo was still standing.

"Her mother and father are going to take one look at me and know I'm not a commoner," she thought aloud. "Do you want to tell them about what is going on? And don't tell me it's my decision alone. Even if I'm easier to spot as a noble you have equal say in what we do or do not divulge. They could be grateful and sympathetic, or they might try to play this to their advantage. I think the former is more likely but... I didn't believe the duke was capable of this level of bloodshed last week and today we're refugees. I don't want to rely on my judgment alone."
As the barge cut through the waves breaking onto the shore of the caldera, the engine fervently pushing them towards the greater ocean, Solae was infinitely grateful for one of her many genetic modifications made in generations past. Neither she nor Rene were prone to motion sickness. When the aristocracy was sailing the stars many, many years ago they quickly discovered the inconvenience that was any of nobility falling ill due to motion sickness. Most spaceships were more like their aircraft predecessors than their sea relatives, but there was a certain amount of turbulence, especially with interstellar jumps, that could make anyone predisposed empty their stomach and have profound vertigo. Scientists had been tasked with eliminating this weakness that marred their image. It was a minor enough alteration that it had not been subject to the same sort of controversy that surrounded gender selection, aesthetic meddling, and fitness enhancements. The marquise could only surmise that Damaris's tolerance (or immunity) was due to the necessity of her environment. Everyone on Panopontus needed to traverse by boat; only the wealthy could afford better and this planet was not populated by the upper class. Once could rightly assume that the affluent quickly left this world for one of more luxuries as soon as they were able.

"Not the best chanty for right now," Solae murmured in Rene's ear. She was not trying to be critical but she recognized that the reference to 'peril' might unnerve their young passenger. Fortunately Damaris was not paying attention to either one of them. The girl's lips were pressed together tightly as she clutched her seat until her knuckles turned white. Their adolescent friend's eyes were fixated on the horizon in a vacant stare that spoke to either being consumed in fear or actively disassociating from the horror.

Tempted as Solae was to fish out the medical kit for a sedative, just so that her companion would not have to relive her trauma, she knew that would hurt more than help. Sleeping through the journey would grant Damaris an escape from facing her fears, but doing so would almost certainly exacerbate the issue later. Confronting the ocean now could help keep it from festering and anchoring itself so deeply in her psyche there was irreparable damage. One could only imagine how paralyzing it would to dwell on a planet that was classified as "largely aquatic" and be terrified of the coastline. The linguist reasoned there was a great deal of difference, however, between ignoring Damaris completely and enabling through an offer to travel unconscious. What was needed was comforting and reassurance.

"Do you like to read, Damaris?" she asked, tapping gently on the girl's fingers so as not to startle her.

"Read?" Damaris repeated with surprise. Solae had used this tactic on her before and for good reason; an unanticipated change of topic to one seemingly unconnected to the present tended to grab attention. It made a person unconsciously start trying to deduce what had caused the change of subject. Regardless of whether or not such a discovery could be made the brain naturally tried to forge the connections on its own.

"I know how to speak and read a lot of languages," the noblewoman confessed. "When I was in school my teachers were fond of making us read a story in one language, then try to read or translate it into a language we were learning. Do you know what happened? It helped me learn more quickly but it also meant there were a few stories that I had spent so much time reading, and trying re-write in another language, that I remember them very well." Of course Rene knew there was more to it than what she was divulging. Members of the Empress's court and their families typically had incredible memories from the scientific intervention that guaranteed their beauty. Solae's memorization was equal parts repetition and an ability she had been born with. "What if I told you a story while Rene gets us home?"

"What kind of story?" Damaris inquired with a touch of hesitation.

There was a bit of negotiation to be had on which precise tale would be recited. For someone so young Damaris was surprisingly discerning on what she did and did not want, which created a challenge for Solae's limited mental library, but they settled on a relatively modern fable that was penned approximately two centuries ago. Coincidentally the moral that was the theme was tolerance of cultural differences and the importance of cooperation to thrive. There were no Syshin characters or allusions, for bringing in a subjugated race would not have allowed it any amount of success, but they could have been interchanged with the human foreigners.

It took the entirety of the fable, a hearty discussion on metaphors, and a second shorter story that was ancient and centered around a poisonous maiden before San Roayo was close enough that the engine had to be throttled to keep them from crashing into the rocky outcroppings. Damaris had drifted over next to Solae during the ride and they had huddled together for warmth. The air had chilled as the day drew on, the sun dipping below the horizon, and the sky darkened. The dip in temperature had proved to be their biggest discomfort. As if tired from the record-breaking waves created by the typhoon, there were relatively small tides between the land masses, and Rene encountered little difficulty in steering towards their target. All of these factors had bolstered Damaris's confidence significantly. Instead of shrinking back she leaned forward and squinted at the lights and shadows emerging from the craggy rock and grassy hills that dominated the island she called home.

"I think we need to go north- to the left," she told them with the assumption their first destination was her house. Solae glanced to Rene for confirmation he wanted to drop off Damaris before proceeding further. It was her belief this was the best course of action but she didn't want to be a dictator giving out orders. They were equals in their adventure and endeavors. He had just as much weight in their decisions as she did... even if she suspected sometimes he didn't find himself deserving or wanting of such.
As Solae started to try to take a few more steps closer to where the barge was bobbing in the water, floating but tethered in place, she realized that Damaris was firmly anchored in the sand by fear. The pressure of the young girl's grip was not sufficient to bruise but was painfully tight. Though it might be easier to simply drag their young charge to their makeshift vessel to save time, and wait until they were sailing to reassure her, it would also be cruel. Inwardly the diplomat sighed.

Truthfully she couldn't blame the adolescent for her apprehension. Not only had she been traumatized when she was ripped from her home town, violently carried by the water to the island, and deposited on an abandoned caldera half-alive, despite Rene's best efforts their transport was not inspiring confidence. She had no doubt it would survive their journey to San Roayo and that her paramour had done the best he could with the resources available. What she recognized, however, was that for someone as terrified as Damaris nothing short of a huge ship that appeared unsinkable would assuage her. This was no luxury yacht where the owners and occupants could hide below deck and try to avoid the ocean. It was not a military carrier that was so massive one could explore the levels for days without confronting the sight of the sea. All three of them would be exposed to the elements no matter how short the trip and they could not trick themselves into believing they were still on land.

"Damaris," Solae started as she knelt down. "Do you know why I have hair this color?" she asked gently with a soft smile. Her question was so unexpected that the youth blinked several times, distracted momentarily by the query, and almost forgot the dark mass of water that was so close by.

"Your hair?" Damaris replied with her eyebrows knitted in confusion. For a second the girl glanced to Rene who just shrugged affably rather than offer a clue as to either the answer or Solae's aim in asking something so bizarre.

"My parents, and some of my parents' parents, and my parents' parent's parents, used science to make changes to babies before they were born," she explained. It was a gross oversimplification but it was easy to appreciate that details weren't needed to make the point she was about to make. Trying to delve into the technology that was used in genetic modification would be tedious, lengthy, and challenging even for adults. "One of those changes was to make my hair this color. That's why some princesses look a little different. What about our knight, Sir Rene? What do you think they changed about him?"

Damaris was so absorbed in this new line of thought that she turned and stared at Rene for a moment, oblivious to the ocean she had planted herself to avoid proximity to. Solae gave her a few seconds to scrutinize Rene, who seemed somewhat uneasy under the intense stare, before she gave her fiance a subtle wink. "They made him tall?" Damaris suggested. Common men and women were not necessarily short, but nobility had generations ago began assuring their male progeny were typically taller than their counterparts. The average aristocrat towered above their lesser peers given the gap in nutrition and selective DNA editing, though some planets had more comparable heights among their populace.

"Well, I think they did," she whispered as she leaned in, "but they also made him strong. I know it's hard to trust someone you don't know, but because Sir Rene is so strong I know that if anything happens to me on our way to San Roayo he will be able to rescue me better than anyone else. And I know he'll be able to rescue you better than anyone else too. We wouldn't be taking you home like this unless it was the only way. We have to believe in Sir Rene, though, even if it's difficult." Solae paused a minute to let her words sink in and then stood, tugging on the little hand clasped in hers. "You ready to try to get on? If we go now we'll have a chance to sit there for a moment before we have to leave."

Damaris eyed the barge warily as she struggled mentally with pushing past her fears. Sensing her trepidation, but also the smallest hint of courage blossoming beneath the surface, the marquise turned to her soldier and made a motion. "Do you think you could carry her the last few steps?" she asked quietly. The pair might not be the best of friends given their rocky start, but she couldn't imagine that it would hurt to have some physical assistance, especially since she knew from experience that this sort of situation could make someone who was scared feel like their legs were jelly.
Leanja sighed once it became clear what ailed his psyche. His chant was odd, one she was not familiar with and did not fully understand, but his explanation of his troubles were sadly much less foreign. This errant knight truly did wish to be a beacon of virtue but had fallen into a quagmire of ethics and morality. No one but perhaps the insane was truly free of self-doubt as to whether they were right or wrong, good or evil, respectable or corrupt. More than once her mother had warned her that things were almost always in shade of grey. Some day in the future she would have to navigate those waters as the leader of a kingdom; it was one of the things she looked forward to the least as an err in judgment could be catastrophic.

"When a baby is born they are innocent. No one would ever suggest you ought to kill a baby, would they? That baby could one day grow up and be a wonderful person, someone who does great things for the world, or they could become a heinous villain. We don't know when they are a baby, do we? All we know is that when they are an infant, at that time, they are innocent. You did all anyone can do, sir knight," she proclaimed with empathy as her hand remained gently laying on his armor. She had noticed the translucent shimmer at the edge of his eyes and sensed something almost arcane in his person but it did not make her determination waver. Leanja recognized herself as the last person who ought to judge another for inexplicable magical abilities.

"Everyone has a choice. That baby will chose its path when it gets older. We can all try to help, but no one can predict, or force, someone onto the path we want for them. I know I wasn't there but... you gave those people a gift. You shielded them and, while they should be thankful and follow your example, it's not for you to control what they do with their lives. Where they have failed you perhaps others will not. Has every soul you saved turned to darkness?"

Withdrawing her hand she reached into a pocket and pulled out a small rag that was covered in soot. The princess used this strip of cloth to clean her hands and face on the occasion she got dirty exploring the wilds and could not afford to cast a spell for cleanliness. Gingerly she leaned forward and tried to scrub away some of the dried blood that clung to the plate. Leanja could not erase the past but she could try to reinvigorate faith into a downtrodden man. Surely being covered in the spilled bodily fluid of the slain was not beneficial to his mental well-being.

"Maybe this is a test. It's easy to thwart evils that are unknown to us, isn't it? It's much harder when you have to strike down someone you know would hurt others. For what it is worth, sir knight, I don't think what you've done is a heinous crime at all. When you were needed you were there, and when people turned to villainy you had the courage to confront them. Not everyone could do that. I would think many knights would falter in their devotion and be able to strike that blow no matter how righteous."
It might have been wiser for Solae to take a nap herself but she elected not to do so; Rene had made significant contributions towards getting them to San Roayo and she felt obligated to match his efforts. She obviously lacked the raw strength he possessed and thus had been of little help in making the barge sea worthy. What she was able to offer was an apparent natural knack for technology that had not been explored during her upbringing as a future marquise and leader of the Stellar Empire. The diplomat was by no means an expert even with the tutelage of Mia. Time and practice were absolutely necessary for her to reach the skill level that mere apprentices had in the field. The artificial intelligence she was reliant upon for her learning was also not designed for the purpose of imparting a specialized education on its users. Even with the advent of synthetic beings, human (or humanoid) individuals were used for instructors, as it had proven an impossible task to make any program mimic the discipline and intuition that were used by the best to motivate and understand their pupils.

Both the woman and child were seated at the small table in the galley that seemed to get very little use. Damaris had a tall glass of water that was half-gone, a simple beverage intended to make certain she stayed hydrated, while Solae had an almost empty cup of coffee. She had spiked her brew with a few splashes of cheap liquor that she had discovered buried deep in the pantry where one smuggler must have been hiding it from their criminal colleagues. The linguist wouldn't jeopardize herself or anyone else by getting inebriated, so the dosage had been low enough it would not even produce a buzz, but it gave a little more bite that helped keep her awake, alert, and focused in conjunction with the caffeine.

"Did you have a good nap?" Solae asked as Rene entered.

Hanging off the back of her chair was a small waterproof tote that in its past life had been used for the transportation of small sums of currency and illicit drugs during inclement weather. Tucked inside was a clunky, outdated tablet roughly the size of a brick and half as wide. What it lacked in pleasing aesthetics it made up for in the multiple protective coatings and barriers that meant anything short of an apocalyptic typhoon would not destroy it. Twenty or thirty years ago it would have been standard issue for colonizers and scientists evaluating the results of terraforming on an unstable world. Solae didn't know what the tablet had been used for before, although she ventured a guess it was something unsavory, and had it reset to factory conditions. The only data that had been uploaded after it was wiped clean were maps of San Roayo. All of the rest of the storage was free purposefully for the noblewoman to fill to capacity with what she could download from the communication center's archives.

In addition to the sturdy tablet she had packed a compact emergency medical kit, a small set of utility tools in case she had to brute force her way into a control system, and the funds that had been left behind by the prior crew of the Bonaventure. Packing any more felt as if it might be too burdensome. Solae recognized a need to travel as lightly as possible while being prepared; they did not want to appear more suspicious than they already were and they ought to weigh down their sea vessel as little as possible if they hoped to navigate it successfully.

Damaris let out a giggle at the reference to the nap as Rene stepped in. Knowing he had taken a nap had made him significantly less frightening to the adolescent as she saw it as something small children did rather than adults. Her parents were not of sufficient social standing to take breaks in the middle of the day, like many working aristocrats who took full advantage of their status, and so she legitimately did not know anyone above the age of a toddler had such liberties or inclinations. Considering it as was advantageous for Damaris to be more friendly and trusting towards the soldier, Solae was not inclined to point out the gap in her perception.

"Did you want to have something to eat before we go? We have quite the variety of instant, high in carbohydrates, low in nutritional value meals to choose from. I'll even let you take a swig from my bottle," she teased with a wink. Damaris only devolved into more girlish giggling that reminded Solae of when she used to be so easily amused by adult things. At the time her parents had found her adolescent amusements grating because a lack of composure could reflect poorly upon them.
"Excellent, then you can report back to take a two hour nap," Solae replied smoothly. Damaris immediately burst into a fit of giggles in response to the maternal remark so casually issued to a full-grown man undeniably larger (and perhaps older) than his female counterpart. Despite the amusement it caused the young girl, and the sweet delivery by the diplomat, her tone was insistent. She had seen the exhaustion in Rene's movements and countenance and now had a fresh worry on her mind. They would not fare well on the open waters, much less with their mission on the land, if their navigator and protector looked like death warmed over. He would be responsible for finding and perhaps hauling fuel back to the caldera. None of their goals would be more easily achieved with him sleep=deprived.

"Will he really come back and take a nap?" Damaris inquired. Now that she had filled her belly with protein bars and an instant vegetable soup she had become emboldened. Physical recovery had strengthened her courage to ask questions, to show glimpses of her personality, to not be so timid and paranoid about her host and hostess regardless of their origin.

"Maybe, maybe not," Solae shrugged, "He's my partner before he's my knight in shining armor, so even when I tell him what to do I need to respect his right to refuse," she said, trying to utilize this bit of time as a teaching moment. Damaris had not yet puberty yet but she would in a few years. Their encounter with another might be fleeting but she wanted to impart on the girl a model of a relationship with healthy boundaries. The aristocrat wasn't honestly certain what courtship and marriage was like in the troubled teenage years of the general populace, but it was a horrific mess for nobility. Surging hormones, parents who treated each other like business partners, and the backstabbing that happened all too often among the elite did not make those awkward years of transitioning from a child to an adult any easier.

"Mia, can you please pull up a map of San Roayo?" the slender blonde requested.

"Yes, but there is not a proper display in the kitchen. Would you prefer for me to use the screen in the hold or the cockpit?" the artificial intelligence replied. Her tone was still even, placid, and polite, as if the inappropriately sultry vixen had never existed. Solae was now certain she found it unnerving to hear Mia speak without the purr. The comical and exasperatingly amorous manner in which she spoke when a minor wasn't present had become comforting in its own way. Now that it had disappeared she was nearly unrecognizable to her biggest supporter.

"Let's use the hold. Would you mind coming with me, Damaris? If we're going to take you home with the high tide I will need you to show me where you live so we don't arrive on the other side of the island. The storm will have caused a lot of damage so we'll want to travel as far as we can by water. Roads will be washed out for at least another day or two while they clear debris off of them," she explained as she led the way to the hold. By the time they had changed rooms Mia had already projected a very simple topographical map of San Roayo onto a large screen attached to an abandoned storage rack. Solae would never tell her innocent charge that this same screen undoubtedly was used to monitor the vitals of slaves chemically induced to a comatose state. She and Rene may have committed grand larceny by taking The Bonaventure, and continued arguably criminal acts to elude capture and defend themselves, but they were still putting the space vessel to more moral use than it had likely seen before.

The girl looked at the map for several long moments. It wasn't that she didn't know where she lived but rather she wasn't familiar with looking at the geography from above. Solae was beginning to contemplate how she might be able to assist, either by conducting a long range scan and building a more basic 3-D image, or by trying to hijack a satellite in orbit around the planet. Damaris cocked her head to the side and pointed to a small ridge on the outskirts of the city where homes were clustered tightly together near the shore. "There, I live there I think," she said.

"Would you like me to create a chart, Lady Solae? You may want to upload it to a device and take it with you on your journey," Mia suggested. She sounded like an eerily pleasant automated system or perhaps a recording of a receptionist that was given a script of appropriate words and phrases. The linguist bit the inside of her cheek lightly to keep herself from commenting. Shifting her focus back towards their upcoming mission she nodded.

"Yes, thank you Mia. It would be in our best interest to take something that we can upload data to since we won't be able to easily contact you. Can you do an inventory search and let me know what would require the least modifications, have the largest storage, be moderately resilient to moisture, and have a sufficiently long battery?"

"Of course, Lady Solae," Mia replied instantly before falling silent to carry out her task as well as afford her human counterparts a chance to converse. Rene and Solae had gotten used to having the company of a sentient machine but Damaris had not; she found the concept novel, fascinating even, but it was hard to trust a disembodied voice guided by foreign algorithms and with no facial expressions to interpret.

"Is there something else you need from my home?" the girl asked with a slight quiver in her voice.

"No, we're just taking you to your home, I promise. Since we'll be in town, though, I thought I'd try to find some information on how Sir Rene's family is doing. He had to work very far away from them and they haven't keep in contact. We want to see if they are safe, if they moved, if they are doing well before we see them. It's very hard to be apart from your family, isn't it?" she asked rhetorically with a soft pat on the head. Her heart ached all that much more for her recently deceased parents. Perhaps a week had passed since they were brutally murdered and instead of mourning them like a dutiful daughter she was trying to forget them while she kept her mind occupied and hands busy. Reuniting another group of relatives was all she could think could possibly be penance for such a transgression.
"We are going to do our best," Solae promised smoothly with a tone that was softer and free of the frustration she had expressed while conversing with Rene. Detangling herself from her fiance she strode over to their young guest with a gentle smile on her features. Despite how congenial and kind the marquise had been, Damaris was still nervous and suspicious, and had backed away a couple steps anxiously. The young girl continued to watch her pensively as the diplomat knelt down in the space where she had stood a few moments earlier.

"Before we try to find your papa I want to make sure you're feeling better. I don't think your papa will like us very much if you are sick and hungry when we take you home, will he?" Solae asked somewhat rhetorically. In truth she wasn't as worried about the parental figure as she was about making certain that Damaris had the strength necessary to endure the boat trip on the barge to San Roayo. Right now the conditions were relatively favorable to travel but she dared not make the assumption that the weather would continue to be mild. She needed to prepare for the very real possibility that they could meet with a wide variety of difficulties while transporting their charge across the sea. The more they were able to rejuvenate the girl the better. "Do you feel better after getting some rest?"

Damaris glanced over at Rene before looking back to Solae. She was both old enough and smart enough to realize that no one would have tucked her into bed if they didn't sincerely care about her well-being. They had not earned her complete trust but she also wasn't making the worst assumption about the needle and tube dangling out of her arm. "Yes, thank you," she said after some hesitation. The youth was still rather convinced the flaxen-haired figure in front of her was a princess in disguise so she wanted to mind her manners. It was the soldier that was the more intimidating person that made her wary. Watching the couple together, however, she was starting to believe that the man was actually a knight guard of some sort for the delicate royal lady.

"Wonderful! Are you hungry?" Solae asked as she reached out with one hand. Damaris was slightly reluctant but her growling stomach was testament that the IV hadn't been a complete replacement for food. Using one hand to keep the sheets wrapped around her she used the other to accept Solae's proffered hand. The noblewoman stood and and started to lead her towards the galley where Rene remained waiting. Whether it was because he was dozing while sitting, because he was afraid to move and startle Damaris, or because he was also half-starved she couldn't be certain.

"What kind of shelter is this?" Damaris asked inquisitively as she glanced around. Hours ago when they had brought the girl onto the ship she had been too drowsy on their approach to notice it was a galactic vessel. By the time they had actually reached The Bonaventure Rene had to carry her as she succumbed to the siren song of slumber. It was not surprising that now she was seeing the interior that she was realizing this was no simple beach house. The way that Solae had referred to it had made it seem smaller and more modest than it was. The freighter was not as large as any space yacht but it was significantly larger than the smallest cruisers used for transportation of a mid-income family.

"It's a spaceship," Solae replied honestly. "We're trying to get back to our own home. Well, I suppose we're trying to go somewhere to make a new home. You see, that man over there is a little scary because he's so tall, strong, and handsome, but I love him very much, so we're looking for a place where we can get married and have a big house," she elaborated with a wink to Damaris. Her new smaller friend's eyes got wide and after a couple seconds she giggled as she looked over to Rene. Like most girls her age she found the concept of romantic love both silly and enchanting. To hear the absurd way that Solae described it just made it all that more humorous.

"There is one more introduction I need to make. We have an Artificial Intelligence system- a computer that talks to us- named Mia. If you hear her talk she is just here to assist us. Mia, would you mind saying hello to Miss Damaris?" she requested.

There was a faint hum before a nearby speaker before they heard Mia's dulcet tones. "Hello, Miss Damaris. It is a pleasure to meet you," the sentient machine greeted but without a seductive undertone. Solae and Rene had both prepared themselves for the purr and breathless anticipation that was firmly integrated into Mia's programmed persona. Evidently even Lord Armon realized that he couldn't have a sultry vixen whispering to his visitors with underage children in attendance. Mia was wholly inappropriate, normal even, and Solae was stunned at what a profound difference was. The linguist had gotten so used to the comically sexy voice that she didn't know how to adapt to this newfound formality.

"You should get changed," Solae suggested to Rene as they joined him. While she wouldn't have objected if he wandered around nude on the regular she felt a touch uncomfortable having him soaked to the bone and shirtless in the presence of an adolescent girl. "Can you look for something we can use for a jacket for Damaris while you're getting dressed? At some point we'll need our sheets back," she said with a bemused grin. Because they had put Damaris on their bed, as none others were cleaned in preparation for guests, it was their linens that were being used as a makeshift cover. Solae was generous but not enough to let go of her one few domestic luxuries.
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