During her escape from the tentacled whispering tunnels, Tasha hadn't glimpsed any K'hu'an along the way, but a few young Vartans were waiting in the 'cathedral' to see if she actually returned.
"Are they still down there?" one lad asked.
A worn, rather haggered steps out in to the light and has to momentarily shield her eyes. Neither the K'hu'an nor -- especially -- their creator appreciate light, leaving the young woman to struggle with the adjustment.
After blinking away the bright and seeing that other people are here and it wasn't just her mind playing tricks on her, Tasha steps forward with her hand still shading her eyes as she gets a good look at her guests. As she studies them, she remembers one had asked a question.
"You'll have to ask them yourself," she replies, head cocking to the side. She pauses for a moment, then asks, "Didn't think I'd come back?"
"Wanted to see why you went," another says, looking like the one who first met her at the council building. "Did the monks do stuff to you?"
"Is that what you call them? Monks?" Tasha lowers her hand now that she's finally adjusted to the brightness, even if it is just the dim brightness of the cathedral's scattered light and few torches. Sh doens't wait for the answer, either, before she gives her reply, "Nothing I didn't ask for, anyway."
"Was there any treasure or anything in there?" another asks. "Did you see what the Monks eat?"
"They really don't like me telling people about them. If you're curious, you could always walk inside and talk to them. I'm sure I could arrange it," the peculiar mix of Vartan and other parts notes. She then glances around for a moment before walking over and plopping herself right down on the steps, twisting to lean back against the wall and run her hands back through her hair -- such as it is.
A few of them look towards the opening, then back at Tasha and her mixed features. "Maybe another time.." one mutters and heads for an exit. The rest soon follow, leaving just the original one that seems to work for the council.
Tasha raises a brow as the other young adults leave, turning after to the only one that remains. "Not that adventurous, huh?" She asks him, thumbing her Karnor hand back towards the way the other left. "Or did they think they'd end up like me?"
"Little of both," the youngster admits. "We.. we aren't adventurous. It's been bred out of us, you might say. It's hard for us to leave though."
Tasha nods to this before she pushes herself up again, then takes a moment to stretch her arms towards the ceiling. "It's not for everyone," she notes as her hands fall, the young woman turning back to the page. "I'd like to speak to your elder again. Also, do you have access to record keeping materials? I have a lot copy down, and I'd like to get to it before the memories fade."
"There's paper and ink in the council room," the page notes, and gestures for Tasha to follow.
There's still just the one councilor there when Tasha arrives, since it's only been a few hours. He's got a pot of probably tea and two cups, one of which is in his hand. "Ah, Tasha, you have returned from the bowels of the mountain once again," he notes.
"It's a hobby I enjoy. I met my mate in the bowels of a mountain, after all." Tasha takes a seat, then realizes she probably should have asked before doing it. Having spent what she thinks was an hour, but can't be certain due to the reality-warping nature of Harrowers, investigating the mysteries of the universe and enduring the answer she finds she's in little mind for social nuance.
Pushing on, she notes, "I got what I came from, so I won't disturb your Clan much longer. I can leave now if you need me to, but I'd like to remain so that I can take time to record everything I've learned. It'd be best if I were alone when I do so; The information isn't, um, comfortable and probably shouldn't be known casually."
"We are not a particularly literate Clan," the councilor notes, and gestures to a side door. "That is the secretary's office. It has what you need, including privacy."
"Thank you. I'll get to it, then." Tasha stands up again and begins towards the door, then pauses. She turns back and offers the Elder a slight bow and notes, "If possible, I'd also like for you or another Elder and several of your stronger hunters -- or warriors? -- to join me for a flight after I'm done. I promise it'll be worth your effort."
Only one other Elder was able to join Tasha the next morning. The Stormriders were not the best flyers, having been cooped up for a lifetime within the Keep. They were also past middle-age. This necessitated several stops for rest, so that they could make it through the mist layer in one go.
During the trip Tasha can't help but wonder if Apollyon Stormbreaker would be happy with the way his clan turned out; They survived, but to Tasha's eyes she can't help but feel the old mercenary's descendant lost their fire somewhere along the way. Then again, the Apollyon she met -- his PersoCom -- seemed to want an end to the fire. To her eyes, he seemed like a man searching for a quiet peace, perhaps tired of the endless battles and near-slavery to Khattans and their shekels. She also remembers he was disappointed to her she was continuing the mission, and thus can't help but also wonder if it's her he'd truly be disappointed in.
Appreciated or not, the half-Vartan decided that she still has an obligation to these people so long as she carries Apollyon's sword and name. She knows her presence is disruptive, even unwelcome despite her status as the one they'd been waiting for. Still, she's set on offering one final gift before she moves on -- both as a thank you and to help the Clan endure in this time of hardship.
"Almost there," Tasha squawks in Vartan, waving her halitool off at a cascade of waterfalls. "Follow me in, don't light the torches until we're down and inside!"
"Does this mean we are finally there?" the Elder asks, the other one saving her breath for flying.
"Yes, sorry," the hybrid offers, shooting the elder a guilty look that's obscured by the lingering mist. She points once more as they close, to a particular waterfall that looks little different from its many sibings. "There! Down we go!" And with that she stoops, arcing towards the ground before landing in a storm of wing beats a ways away from the stream itself.
The Elders land a bit more heavily. "I hope we can make it back to the Storm Keep from here," the speaker laments.
"You're such a baby," Tasha admonishes as she walks past the complaining elder, slapping the man on the arm and shaking her head as she goes. "I'm sure Apollyon is glad for it, but still, you should try and toughen up a bit!"
Ducking down, Tasha steps behind the waterfall and peers in to the darkness.
Everything is still as she left it, including the stuff that was disturbed by her makeshift campsite. What natural light that gets through makes things extra shiny from being filtered through running water.
Briefly, Tasha considers keeping it all for herself -- the idea gets squashed quickly but the fantasy lingers. "H-hokay," she calls back, still in shiny-shock, " ... come inside. Watch your step, don't slip from the surprise."
The Elders don't really react until the torches get lit. "It's very shiny," the speaker admits with approval. They've likely never seen money before though.
Tasha chokes down a sigh, head dropping in to her hand. She lest it rest there a moment as she thinks of what to say, then she steps forward, turns, and spreads her hands out. "This is a small fortune," she explains, waving her arms a bit to emphasize better. "It's enough money to help your clan, buy a ship, build a new settlement -- whatever you might need! It's money, shekels, um, coinage and raw gems, silver and gold."
"Where did it come from?" the female Elder finally speaks up.
"An old dead dragon. I spoke to its ghost, helped it find peace. Bird of Hermes stuff. So! I don't think he or she will mind we're taking it. After all, if we don't some bandit will." Letting her arms frop finally, Tasha stoops down and snatches up a handful of uncut gems and slowly turns them in her Vartan hand, rotating them around each other as she notes, "You'll need someone to assess the. Don't just take piles of treasure in to town and ask for help. They'll cheat you, or worse, cheat you and then rob your or attack the Clan. Take all of this and then store it somewhere safe, either back in the Keep or near it in the mountains. Now, there's a man named Aaron Lightfoot in the city called Rephidim. Find him, ask for his help, tell him I sent you and that you have treasure that needs assessing. He'll help you for a cut of the profit."
"The lapine that studied our curse, I remember him," the first Elder notes. "So long as nobody is going to try and claim this treasure, I suppose it is fine for us to take it then."
"The only one who has claim to it is me, and I'm fne with you taking it. Except these." The handful of uncut gems goes right in to Tasha's pocket. "Annnd ... Maybe this." In goes a silvered mirror. "And this." It's then joined by a jewel encrusted knife, a copper, silver and gold coin, and a little carved animal she thinks Mariel would like. "And ... Oh." Finally, a gold tiara. She puts it on her head. "Hokay! The rest is yours!"
"The tiara doesn't suit you, the Elder notes, but smiles and bows. "Thank you for this gift."
"Maybe a crown?" Tasha asks, biting her lip and glancing at the pile. "Oh, or that sword. I bet Gabriel would ... " She squints, then, with /great effort,/ turns away and stares right at the rocky wall. "/You are welcome. I do. Not. Want. Any. More. It-is-all-yours! /All./ /Yours/!"
"Are you sure the spirit of the dragon has left?" the Elder asks, looking into Tasha's eyes... as if maybe she were the dragon now.
Tasha adjusts her tiara then folds her arms, staring intently ahead. "That's right, lecture the woman who just gave you a fortune. See what it gets you!"
"Is there anything else you need of us?" the Elder asks next.
Tasha risks a glance over and arches a brow. She almost snaps off a smartass remark, but as she studies the Elder's face her expression softens. "Just ... Be safe, okay? Apollyon would never forgive me if I ruined his Clan for a few old artifacts. You meant more to him than the duty ever did. I'm not even sure why he held on to it all; Maybe he just couldn't bear to throw the Marker away? Or feared someone would come for it. I don't know. Either way, I'm sure he's pleased that his Clan found peace at last."
"We're on our way to finding it, yes," the Elder says. "It's a big world, and it is as if we have suddenly landed here from outer space."
Turning more fully to face the Elder, Tasha nods her head slowly in sympathy. "I know how it is," she admits, gesturing up at her face a second later. "I was like your Clan, not so long ago. You'll find your way. I did."
"I'll have the adolescents come and carry this out, they have plenty of free time and stronger wings," the old man notes, as the female Elder seems to be cataloging things on a clipboard.
Tasha says, "Another nod, then Tasha notes, "If you need me, I can be reached through the gateway Tower P T H O office, or through the Expedition, Confederate, Celestial Empire or Star Empire ambassadorial offices. I may be in the field, or, um, in space, but if I can't help one of my collegues probably can. If it's secret, just ask to speak to a J E F representative." She then glances around, one more time, and says, "That's about it then; Do you need me to stand guard for a while? Otherwise I'm going head towards the city and continue my journey.""
"I think we've delayed you long enough with our poor flying," the Elder notes. "You go on ahead, get a nice room and something to eat, and good luck to you, Tasha."
"And you, Elder." Tasha takes a step back, then salutes formally -- tiara and all -- before turning and making her way on out.
It's only half way down the mountain when she remembers she should probably take the shiny crown off.
"It would have looked good on ME," the ghost of Blackwings seems to whisper. Or it could just be the wind...
"Too bad, it's mine," Tasha mutters to the wind. She may have forbidden herself an empire, but a crown isn't asking for too much ... Right?
From New Elamoore, it's possible to find an airship heading north through the mountains to Kroz. The Skreek-ruled province of Naochi was easy to get to, having recently widened the roads to accommodate traffic for the Moltpaa Express - the underground segment of the Trans-Nordikan Railway. Tasha felt tall again, but not by much. The Krozites were mostly Skreeks and Khattas, but the Skreeks were tall and lean and generally more humanoid than the usual sorts. And like the Abaddonians, they tended towards colorful hair. Instead of Titanians, this section of the rail seemed to be run by Hookas. Even the train cars looked like they had been made out of Hooka parts, along with the rails.
Feeling her trip has taken a surreal turn, then reminding herself she recently spent an hour talking from a being from beyond space as she knows it and whom for which time has little meaning, Tasha simply decides the train is peculiar to her and leaves it at that. For her part, she's done a whole lot of nothing other than relax and write, making her something of an oddity to herself as well. Slowly but surely, she knows she's changing all over again.
Needing privacy, Tasha has her own room, too. It gives her the space to take notes and stretch out without the risk of accidentally exposing other passengers to the horror of the beyond. A part of wonders how she became the boogiewoman; The weird passanger, that hunched over scribe recording peculiar secrets. She knows it just happened, but getting used to it has been much harder for her. It's all very peculiar.
It's a long trip, but at least it's restful and productive.
Given the scenery.. it isn't likely the other passengers would find her that disturbing. They pass through vast underground caverns, often filled with strange lights and figures. The rails follow trestles hung over lakes of molten lava at times. And occasionally a strange monster tries to catch the train. One that looked like an animated bird skeleton kept pace with Tasha's car for several minutes. The train stops at Parthos, where the underground platform has a view of the Lake of Langour.. from bellow. The lake is suspended somehow, with columns of water connecting it to the underground version of it.. which seems to have several large creatures moving about.
The other reason for the stop was to transition to the Titanian-Sylvanian locomotive system, with cars made of wood and metal instead of monster bones and who-knows-what.
The train ride has proven a lot more interesting than what Tasha originally expected. When she picked the route, she simply knew it as train tracks on a map with 'an strange route,' which she dismissed. At times it became hard to focus on hr work and not stare out of the train -- and when the skeleton-bird-something-or-other creature came close she thought she might be in for a fight! There was no fighting, but there was a great deal of entertainment to be had and the reminder that her home still has surprises to share.
After the transition, the new train felt a great deal more familiar. She's spent enough time arounf Titanians to immediately recognize the construction as their work, which also signalled that transition in to Titania was close in coming. More money is paid and Tasha is back on track -- literally and figuratively -- and heading north, watching the world pass by from her seat. With her notes complete, she doesn't need the extravagance and instead settles back in to a nice window seat with as much comfort as she can find.
Not that the rest of the trip isn't entertaining. The bigger train filled the tunnels with steam and smoke, and did not slow down for anything. There were the inevitable roars and awful squish noises as the subterranean fauna occasionally tried to challenge the metal behemoth. And once above ground again, in the Wandering Roams just beyond Amazonia, Tasha got to witness a full on battle between two Goliaths - huge creatures with 'shells' made of clearly abandoned (but not necessarily broken) technology. One of them had what looked like a suborbital shuttlecraft as part of its skull. The battle between the two monsters even included cannon fire! For this the train slowed down a bit so the crew could really enjoy the spectacle.
Binoculars in hand, Tasha watched the show even as she scrambled to take notes! Creatures that can use high technology on Sinai are rare, she knows, especially ones of the size and complexity she's witnessing. She also has no idea as to what they are othert han their name, and that was only discovered by asking someone nearby! Goliaths ... Where do you come from? She wonders, wishing she had more time to explore the mystery.
It's proof that Abaddon isn't the only place to find daikaiju.. and the passengers fill her in on some of the lore. The actual 'Goliath Burial Grounds' had supposedly been found by a College Esoterica-Khattan Emirate expedition not even two years back, and the Temple quickly quarantined the area! There is also a Forbidden Zone in the Wandering Roams that the Goliaths 'migrate' to and from, apparently. They also shoot down airships. One of the 'regular' travelers offered Tasha a bottle of wine (his trade, apparently) in exchange for the use of her binoculars, because he wanted to see if there were any Amazonians hunting Zakis - the small armies of shell-less, apparently immature Goliaths that follow each of the giants around.
It was an easy bottle of wine. Bottle of wine in hand, and with a small pile of treasure and a crown, Tasha cackles to herself as she thinks on how profitable her trip has become -- and she hasn't even reached her destination yet! At this rate I'm going to walk up to Gabriel and give him money. I can write off the whole trip and dump the rest in to our savings, maybe even buy some things for the trip back in to Galactic space. The young woman never realized how enjoyable financial security could be until she suddenly had an organization, a ship, buildings and infrastructure to worry about!
Of course, the wine is for the betterment of her own infrastructure. She sips away the journey, content to watch and listen.
Eventually the battle moves out of range, and the great engine pours on more power to make up lost time. The steppes of the Roams begin to give way to hills, then mountains. Titania is a rugged country. And a lot of those mountains have obvious mines and other structures visible from the railway. The deeper they go, the more ominous the mountains become. There are crumbly cliffs, high glaciers and occasional rains of ash, along with earthquakes, thanks to the many giant volcanoes that seem to cluster at the heart of the nation. The train climbs higher and higher into the mountains, until the conductor calls out that the next stop is Titanic, the capitol city.
Sinaian volcanoes must consider ships a snack, or something,// Tasha considers as she stares out across the dramatic landscape of fire and ice. A cold landscape of fire and ice, with the fire being clustered around the volcanic regions leaving the rest -- including Tasha -- to the chill.
She's soon in her Abaddonian jacket and pants, which while an oddity on Sinai were the most compact, warmest garments she could find to wear under her cloak -- anything larger would have made her pack unbearable. This far out, though, she's little worried of being marked as an offworlder and thus targeted with merchandise.
The air outside the train station is.. a bit chill, but also warm and humid from the steam, depending on where you stand and what the wind chooses to do. The Titanians themselves are also a bit of a surprise.. in that they aren't just the Titanians Tasha is familiar with. Along with the giant wolves are giant felines (tigers and lions mostly), Rhians, Fnerfs, a few bundled up but very large Nagas and the hybrid isn't sure but thinks she might have glimpsed a bear even.
Puzzled, Tasha tries to inspect the surprisingly -- to her -- out of place species without letting on she's doing it. It's something she's learned to do over time, as each and every new locale seems to bring a new assortment of people she must try to understand. Failure to do so means lost opportunities and discoveries, but can also be awkward as she knows from being on the wrong side of assumptions. In particular, she finds herself curious as to if the 'extras' are the descendants of the crew of the original ship or else Ark-made latecomers that simply learned to live along side the original crew. It's a mystery she keeps in her head as she observes, walking along and seeing if she can also find transport or lodging.
One thing is for certain: everyone is big. Even the adolescents are Tasha-sized, and things are built to accommodate beings of larger stature. Including the main method of personal transportation: steam-powered motorcycles. But luckily there is some logic to the way the train depot is laid out, meaning that hotels and restaurants are right next to it, where overnight passengers and non-Titanians can find a place to stay.
Tasha asks around, both of people who look like locals and those who seem to be frequent travelers or merchants; Her life of travel has acclimated her to some of the ins and outs of new ports, even if she's not longer visiting them on airships. Finding a reputable, safe lodging is something on everyone's mind and by asking a wide variety of people, she hopes to weed out the obvious traps from the acceptables and the gems.
Once it's clear how much Tasha is willing to spend, she is led to the Grand Hotel, which looks like a fortress, or at least a stone castle with steel armor. Even the glass in the windows looks thick. The doorman is even a Jupani(Karnor) dressed in subtly-armored livery. He doffs his cap to Tasha, although looks a bit uncertain as to her nature. But then, there are plenty of Vartans in Titania, and almost certainly then trysts between them and the lupine sort.
"Hello," goes Tasha, who smiles up at the Jupani and even wags her tail. "I need a room. One person, no luggage. I'll be staying for at least a day, probably two. Are you going to direct me to a reception area, or do you handle new customers some other way?" The format of her greeting and the question are all solidly from Katie's world; Following the starlet around has given Tasha a glimpse of a much more refined world, and so now that she needs to seem like she belongs to one -- even out where she didn't think it'd exist -- copying Katie's ways strikes her as the right choice.
The man smiles, as Tasha can now neatly be slotted into the 'traveler' slot in his brain, despite having a clearly Titanian weapon-tool over her shoulder. It also helps him to realize that Tasha is an adult. "The main desk is just through these doors, miss," he offers, and holds the heavy door open for Tasha.
"Thank you, sir." Tasha inclines her head to the man, then walks right inside. Shortly after having a brief look around along her walk to the counter, she's up and ready to get her room. "Hi," she greets the person behind the counter, "I'd like a room for one, for ... Lets make it two days at the very least. No luggage."
The interior is.. quite nice. It looks like a castle - there are suits of armor, weapons on the walls, bizarre bits of art (or the results of industrial explosions perhaps). And most importantly, the walls are thick enough to silence the noise of the city and rail depot. "And how would you like to pay for this?" the woman behind the desk asks. She's also Karnor, and very well groomed for her age (which Tasha would guess to be slightly older than her own mother).
"Rephidimite shekels," Tasha answers, finding that she misses the convienence of credit after having to fly, walk, and drive her money across two continents. Her immediate expenditures coin purse was prepared along the trip, so that even if her purse was stolen the rest of her money would be safely distributed among her other containers and even her clothes -- a lesson she learned during her days as a petty pickpocket. As she waits for the amount to be paid, she asks, "Is there transport to the ship itself?"
"The ship?" the woman asks, as she opens a large sign-in book. "A single room with restaurant service for two nights is 100 shekels," she says. The price is steep.. but then the guests are likely few and far between and willing to pay for the silence and security.
Tasha hesitates, but having found a pocket full of treasure the young woman can finally justify the expense of living high on the hog -- If at least for a little while. It's the first time she's really treated herself without someone else paying for it, either with their own money or their influence. The experience of paying for it herself is, she thinks, many ways as enjoyable as the pampering itself.
The coins are pulled out -- which necessitates drawing another coin purse -- and handed over.
"Oh, ship!" She exclaims seconds later. "I forgot! I meant the big mountain of metal, the holy, um, well ... The Titanic. The central structure?" Tasha signs her name without obfuscation: Aldera Tasha Argentine
This seems to surprise the woman. "You.. want to go into the city and see.. wreckage?" she asks, just to be certain.
"I'm a peculiar sort," Tasha insists, smiling and giving her tail a wag. "Is there anything else I should also see? I'm new to the town."
The desk-matron opens her mouth, then closes it and seems to actually think about it for a bit. "There are the Titan fights," she notes, after giving Tasha another once-over. "They aren't on a schedule though.. you just have to listen for the air-horns. I don't know of any tours of the wreckage though. I.. imagine you can just walk right in?"
"Walk right in, check." The younger woman reaches and scratches the back of her head, leaning away as she does. "And Titans. Just like home! Anythng else, ma'am?"
"I would avoid the bars," she advises. "Or at least the vendor cart ones. Do not accept any apparently free food. We have our own bar and it is very well stocked."
"Well stocked bar. Don't accept free food." Tasha bobs her head, then lets her hand fall from it and reaches over to shift her halitool to her other shoulder. It's as heavy as it looks, and her shoudler can only handle so much of it. "I'd like to drop my things off in my room, and then mabe a bath and a meal. It's been a long trip! Is that okay?"
The woman hands over an ornate key with a number on it, and says, "Just up the stairs. I'll ring for an attendant as well."
"Thank you ma'am!" Tasha offers one last smile, then she pivots and is off walking down the hallway. She may be used to travel, and hard worn from years of living outdoors on the deck of ships, but she's really starting to get used to having a hot bath and a good meal. The very idea of which is making her mouth water.
The room itself is.. ornate. There is a lot of polished brass on display, since such metal is apparently available at reasonable prices in Titania. The bed is four-posted and canopied, and there's a slight Amazonian motif in the stylings. The room even comes with a large bathtub, raised up on claw-feet, and fed by an amazingly complex looking set of pipes and boilers - also with brass stylings. Near the door is a pull-cord to summon service even.
Tasha lays her halitool beside and against the bed along with her traveling back, cloak and jacket, and then promptly drops back on the bed and melts.
"Ahh, luxury ... " Purrs the canine, who suddenly finds getting up a very unpleasant sounding position. And so, instead, she just lays there for however long it will take for her attendant to arrive. She could handle pouring herself a bath, but that would require getting up.
There's a knock at the door, of course, to disturb Tasha's state of molten comfort. "Bath service," comes a soft voice that is barely above a whisper.
At least it's an expected disturbance that leads to more comfort. "Come in!" Tasha replies, sounding drowsy but cheery.
The door opens and a short, fluffy figure enters. From her position, Tasha doesn't get a good look until the maid starts fiddling with the complex water heater. Her ears are down, but it's clearly a Lapi doe. The ears being down are not from having lop-ears - like certain Amazonian breeds tend to - but from having them tied together with a bow. She's wearing a maid's uniform, is brown and tan and does not appear to carry concealed weapons or concealed contempt. She's just a typical bunny. "Would you like bubbling bath soap, Mistress?" she asks in that too-soft voice.
"Yes please. Thank you," goes Tasha in what sounds a great deal like an automatic response, entirely out of her inability to pull herself from her comfort. She might not have even noticed her room servant is a doe, save that she just happened to walk past her limited field of vision.
There's much gurgling and a bit of hissing from the contraption, but eventually water begins to fill the tub. Some mechanism allows the soap to be mixed in beforehand, so that the bubbles begin immediately. The doe then comes to Tasha to see if she's actually awake or not. "Do you need any assistance?" she asks.
"I think my body will rebel and leave my brain out in the cold if I try to get up," Tasha mock-worries at the doe, turning her head just enough to get a good look at her. "But I did call you here and you did go through all the trouble of getting the bath ready, so I'd better get up. If my body tries to leave without me, hit it with my haliberd." Despite her promise, she doesn't immediately get up. She does, however, squint at her room servant. "Wow, you are so cute! I'd forgotten how adorable Lapi are without the condescending remarks or the attempt to stab things." And then she does try to get up. Slowly. Laboriously.
The maid's response to the 'cute' remark is to help Tasha get her boots off.
"My hooves are probably worn flat." Tasha grabs hold of one of the bed posts with her Vartan hand, which being the stronger and more loyal appendage is less likely to become traitorous and let her drop. She pulls herself up, then uses the same hand to steady herself for a moment and watch her boots slide off. "I can't believe I flew nearly a continent. Erg, I should have taken an airship. I can't be out of shape, though? Oh well." She stands once hr boots are off, then drags herself to the bath and stares at it.
"Oh. Right. Clothes." Shaking her head, she starts to get dressed and reminds herself she can sit down again as soon as she's done.
The maid is there to help her, even if it's just taking each piece of clothing and folding it (after giving it a sniff to see if it needs laundering). "Would you like tea or Mateh with your bath?" she asks.
"Please. Uh, tea." Interestingly enough, Tasha is wearing her unpowered undersuit making it look like she's made of perfectly hexagonal scales underneath her clothing. She stares at this, too, a moment and then explains, "I'll get this one," before removing it as well. Rather than hand it over, she just lays it on the lip of the tub and then begins climbing in.
The water is hot, and the soap gives it a silky texture. The tub is plenty big to handle her wings as well. As Tasha settles in, the maid goes to the water heater.. and prepares a pot of tea. It does more than just fill the bath apparently.
"Ahhhhhhhhh ... " Goes Tasha, who think she may have gone to bath heaven. Once she can recover enough sense to think about anything at all, she decides that she might seriously consider adding the ammenities found here to her ship. A nice four poster bed, a tub to go in her shower and a lot of frills. She suspects everyone will make fun of it, but she also decides she'll be too comfortable to care.
Smiling at her own comfort and that of future comfort, Tasha asks, "So, anything interesting happening out here? News?"
The tea saucer clips to the the side of the tub, and the teacup is pretty stylish too. "Would you like a shampoo?" the maid asks. "I haven't heard any special news lately."
"A shampoo? Oh, I haven't had a shampoo in weeks. I really need to indulge more. Why am I being so miserly, anyway?" Tasha shakes her head in the tub, then reaches over to sip her tea before placing the cup back down. "A shampoo sounds amazing. Please. And no special news? Well, that makes my trip less prone to sudden," here the hybrid lowers her voice in to a poor approximation of authoritative-sounding man, "'mission creep,'" before rolling her eyes and grinning.
The doe gets behind the tub, and soon Tasha is getting a shampoo-scalp-massage. After all her hair has been through, it really does feel nice.
Tasha can only offer an inarticulate bunch of contented noises in response to the lathering, seeming to have lost what little focus she had left. She's quiet for the rinse conditioning and rinse as well, but does eventually think to ask, "I don't suppose you have any interest in travel? serving on a yacht, seeing the univer- er ... Whole new worlds, that sort of thing?"
"Travel?" the doe asks. "As a maid?" She brings a hose-attached sprayer into play to rinse out Tasha's hair again. "Would you like me to see to your hooves?"
"Well, the truth is, I don't have anyone to ... Um ... well, take care of me." Tasha waggles a hand down at herself, indicating her travel worn and disheveled state. "My friend, Katie, she always has attendants. Three of them, at least! And I'm so busy. My Gabriel, he wouldn't mind either, I'm sure. I need ... A housekeeper. Someone to help with my hair. I have no idea how to do anything with it. Nothing amazing anyway." The young woman heaves a sigh, easing in to the tub more and wiggling her fingers along the side of the bath. "And please, take care of my hooves. That's something else I need. And yes, as a maid. I have a, um, ship. A ship that needs crew. If you're not opposed to danger, and would like to travel, maybe even see new things ... Think about it? Maybe?"
The doe moves down to the foot of the tub, then pulls her sleeves back and reaches right into the water to pull up one of Tasha's feet. "Of course, I will think about it," the maid says, and even smiles. "My name is Liza, if you need to ask after me." She then looks serious as she checks the condition of Tasha's hooves. "I'll need to get the Vartan cuticle kit for this," she explains. "I shouldn't be a moment. Would you like me to arrange for your dinner at the same time?"
"Please, Liza. And thank you." Tasha offers a smile and as much of a wave as she can, then sinks back in to the suds. "I'll just ... Be here. Soaking."
Liza pauses near the door and winds up a music box, so Tasha has something to listen too while she's gone. The door makes barely a sound as the doe leaves. The water heater continues to gurgle and occasionally inject fresh hot water into the bath. There's also a rhythmic ticking.. the room's clock: Chronotopian of course.
Half afraid she might fall asleep and die in the most comfortable way possible, Tasha hooks her arms on the outside of the tub and settles back to relax in a less drowning-enabled way.
And then she promtly falls asleep.
When she does wake up, the first thing she notices is how shiny her hooves look. But what really woke her up is the smell of roast meat. Liza is setting a table from a rolling tray covered in food. "I took your clothes to be laundered, Miss," she notes when Tasha stirs. "Let me fetch your bathrobe."
"Huh? whu-" Tasha squints, then she suddenly sits only to realize she isn't in the bath with someone with amazing hooves; That they're her's. "O-oh, wow, look ... " Immediately regretting how inane that sounded, she splays her ears and shakes her head, pushing herself up. "I mean, you did an amazing job Liza. Sorry, I'm not quite awake yet but ... Wow." Once up, her head lifts and she sniffs until, like ferrous metal to a magnet, she's drawn towards the food tray. "Food!" She declares. "I knew I forgot something; Eating and eating well." She then glances over and offers, "And thank you for the laundry, Liza. And for the bathrobe."
It isn't that simple to just get out of the tub. Liza makes Tasha wait while it drains and takes a shower to wash out any lingering soap. Then the big fluffy towels are applied - and they're warmed, probably by the same heater used for the water. The bathrobe is next, even more fluffy than the towels somehow. Finally Tasha gets to sit down at the table. There's roast bird-lizard of some sort, glazed in a golden sauce, and seasoned ribs and even vegetables and soup (that somehow both involve meat broth of some sort) and meat-stuffed pasta. Also some bread and wine. Liza uses a stool to stand up behind the chair and brush Tasha's hair so it doesn't become tangled in the meantime.
Never expecting to find a love of luxury deep in Titania, Tasha wonders -- and then immediately agrees -- that this trip has already paid for itself purely by virtue of how happy she is right now. Extra-dimensional horrors, Clan politics, raids and space can take a back seat to sitting down to eat, clean and shiny, in a warm, fuzzy bathrobe to a meal fit for a Karnor King.
"I love this ~so much~" the hybrid woman gushes!
And then it's time to eat!
By the time the meal has been vanquished - as it deserved to be, for tasting so.. tauntingly good - Tasha's hair has been styled into a slightly off-centered wave, dipping into a curl above her left eye. Her wingfeathers have also been preened out and put in order.
The meal has put Tasha right back in to her comfort zone and then right past it in to a whole new world of comfort she only glimpsed in the fabulous world of Katherine Vesuvius. If only Katie could see me now, she'd probably say, "You look amazing!" or, "You're becomign more like me!" It's a tease she could learn to like.
Smiling contentedly and looking off at nothinbg in particular, Tasha notes, "I'm supposed to here to do research, but it seems like a horrible crime to step outside now. I'm not even sure I want to. That's not good, is it?" She rolls her head just enough to look to Liza in askance.
"It's getting dark, and that means it will be rather chilly," the doe points out, as she starts cleaning away the empty plates. "However, there is a very large hearth in the lounge, where guests like to gather and drink brandy in the evening. There is usually a dessert tray as well. And bathrobes are considered suitable formal attire."
"Well I know where I'm going next." Tasha doesn't actually go there next, instead she sits where she is and seriously considers going while in actuality continues to be comfortable and well fed. And seeing as she's finding herself rather immoble, she instead notes, "My plan is to remain for at least two days in order to conduct my research. Once it's complete, I'll be heading south again. If you'd like to join me, I'll need to know what that entails, if you need any assistance, and any other details you need me to know or address. I know it's sudden, but this has ben amazing. And, um," she waggles her fingers up at her face, though her hand doesn't move as far as it other wisemight, " ... not even a reaction. I mean, that is, you didn't react to me like most people do. No judgement, no confusion, nothing but kind help and quiet words. I could use less judgement and more quiet words in my life." And then she tilts her head. "And of course I'm hopeless with the other things. So please conside
r it?"
"Of course, Miss Argentine," Liza promises. "I take my service seriously. Is there anything else I can do for your or bring you?"
"I think ... " And in addition to the effort of thinking, Tasha actually rises. " ... I'm going to te lounge. Oh. No need to take care of my bags or my haliberd; Travel worn is how they should be and I don't want to disturb my paints." She then turns and stares at the door for a long moment before turning back. "The undersuit I was wearing, the thing that looks like a pile of symmetrical scales? Just let it soak in some water, it'll take care of itself. And now ... Now to find the lounge ... " And so she shuffles off.
It isn't hard to find the lounge, since that is presumably where the music is coming from. At the end of the hall is a room that seems like it should be a library for all the books, but then there are mounted and stuffed monster heads as well, the big fireplace, some sort of felt-covered game table involving sticks and balls and pockets, a piano, and some extremely overstuffed chairs facing the fire. The music is coming from the piano, where a bathrobe-clad tiger Khatta is playing. There's a crystal decanter of amber liquor on top of the instrument, and a half-filled matching glass as well.
Immediately upon entry Tasha decides her ship needs a room like this; Somewhere where she can read, relax, and enjoy private company while also leaving the outside world and its worries behind.
At first the young woman lingers by the door, but soon she's wandering towards the sound of the music as if it were a siren's call. Her head cocks, glancing here and there to take in the decor, but even so she inches closer until she's beside the piano. Not wanting to interupt she simply smiles at the piano player as she pours herself a glass.
The tiger is middle-aged but still handsome. He finally finishes the piece, and smiles to Tasha. "Good evening, miss. That is quite a striking bit of make-up, I must say. You are one of the guests here?" he says.
Tasha smiles a little more for the compliment, her glass held in both of her hands close to her heart as she talks. "Well, I should hope so, or else I'm quite the sneak," she replies with laughter in her voice. "And not a very good one." She then glances to the piano, brows arching as she asks, "Are you a guest too, sir?"
"Victor," the man says, introducing himself and raising his glass. "I'm taking my family on a grand tour of the rail, Parthos to Chronotopia. I'd have gone all the way to Sylvania, but there is no reliable airship service there, alas."
"Personally I'd have chartered a ship, but if you don't mind the, um, lack of accomidations, there are trading transports that are willing to sell berthing and quarter-space. The ambient Forbidden Zone often disrupts air traffic, unfortunately." Tasha lifts her own up, shifting it to her taloned hand to return the salute. "Aldera Tasha Argentine. I'm here to conduct research and just arrived today on the train."
"Research? On Titanians?" the tiger asks. "Oh, the train is quite an experience though, and so fast. And the Goliaths don't shoot at them."
"On Titanians. Now, don't give me that look! They're very interesting." Tasha gives another smile, then a wink as she takes another sip of her drink. Head then tilting, she nods. "It was an experience, wasn't it? I was expecting more of the same, an above-ground vehicle; Noisy, shakey, uncomfortable. Abaddonian. But the tour underneath the landscape was worth the trip by itself. So much to see and enjoy, so much already done, and I haven't even begun my research! I hope your family is enjoying their trip as much as I am mine."
"The cars are quite luxurious, I find," Victor notes. "It sounds like you've been to Abaddon? I suppose these sort of accommodations are old hat to you then."
"Oh, I live on Abaddon. Pilot-Cadet Argentine, Joint Expeditionary Force. We're a multi-national exploration and technology group; Independant but funded and answering to the major nations. I'm here on self-directed research, as I said." She turns to examine the piano, having only seen a very few of them in her lifetime -- and most only at a distance. She runs a finger along the machine, wondering what it must be like to be a musician even as she talks. "I'm originally from Sinai, so they're only 'old hat' as of a few months ago. I thought I'd think something like this is archaic, but to be honest, I find this hotel to be very comfortable. Maybe too comfortable?" And so she chuckles.
"The owners have high hopes that Titanic will become a proper destination city someday," Victor notes, and taps out a few more notes. "This piano was made here. I can tell from the tension in the strings. Steel strings, steel frame. Not gut and ironwood. Chronotopian ones usually just have the strings in steel, not the frame."
Tasha raises her brow. "You can tell all that just by playing it? That's very impressive. I don't know the first thing about musical instruments. All of this luxury is new to me. My success is recent." She tlts her head the other way; So much to know, even about music. A part of her wonders if Harrowers would like music, though she can't say for certain why the idea came to mind. "But you said it was made here? That must mean there's at least a few artisans, perhaps even a growing luxury industry? Titanians have a way with metal and machinery, and would have for a long time, unlike most everywhere else. I can see why the metal boom's metalwork might gather here."
"Likely it was a custom commission," Victor says, patting the instrument. "The other materials wouldn't be found here, and it doesn't have the.. failsafes.. that a truly Titanian creation would have. It means they can make just about anything if given the plans, I think. I wonder at what other instruments they can create. The Champion of Sound of the Cobalt Lance is Titanian. They use musical instruments as weapons. I may try to look up the artisan who cast the frame for this piano. I've read about brass bands. Orchestras with a hundred metal instruments! It would be nice to bring that all back."
Tasha nods slowly, sipping as she listens and ears perked. "I've met Titanians from other worlds and have seen their work; Your guess is accurate. Their ability overshadowed and- ... Well, their ability when given the appropriate tools and resources seems like it might almost be limitless. My mentor -- unwilling mentor? -- Bumper, a Titanian woman, she's absolutely amazing." Turning back to face Victor, the young woman raises her bows and suggests, "You know, you might consider going to Abaddon. We have the bands you're speaking of and metalwork has continued there since the time of the Expedition. Oh, and should you ever meet a Cobalt Lancer, tell them that Tasha wishes Axe well, would you?"
The big tiger chuckles, and has a sip of brandy. "Ah, you move in different circles than I, it is clear, Miss Argentine," he says. "I am not a young man seeking adventure. No. Now I seek out good families for my children to marry into, and I find I enjoy comfort too much. An easy trap to fall into, yes? Perhaps the orchestras of Abaddon will visit our little corner of the universe someday, and then I will hear them. For now.. I have students, and patrons, and this little vacation will have to end soon enough."
"I think I might envy you and your life of luxury and children; But then, I hear secrets and mystery calling me, and my ship. I'm a ship owner now. My dream. It's waiting for me. For a shiphand like myself, I could never bring myself to abandon my own vessel. It's nice to relax, though, and to forget. It's been a hard road." Tasha takes another sip, then a longer draught that hints a little more at her character behind the effort to fit the time and place. Lowering her glass she turns to look out the window as the city glows with scattered torches, fireplaces, and forgefires. "I've thought of taking a bit of this with me, however. That I can do. Bt you said you have students? And patrons? You're an artist?" She turns back, ears perking again with interest.
"A music teacher, in Abu Dhabi," the man says. "It's important for the children of fat merchants to be able to play an instrument. Well.. for the girls at least. My own son is quite good though. It makes him popular with the ladies."
"From what I heard, I can see why." Tasha grins around her drink just before she has another sip, then she raises it in salute. "I paint," she offers in a gesture of artist solidarity, " ... although not as well as you play the piano." She almost adds a reflexive remark about it also making her popular with the ladies, but quickly remembers where she and so stiffles a bark of a laugh as she realizes what she almost did. "Well," she continues a second later, " ...it's good I'm mostly an, um, adventurer, isn't it?"
"Someday you'll be in my place," Victor promises. "With more past than future. I pass on my talents to the next generation, and you will write down your adventures to thrill and inspire others.. and return to your family, and warm fire and good drink.. and the bathrobe. Can't do it without the comfy robe."
"That is a truth I am quickly becoming accustomd to." Tasha reaches over and gives her own robe a little tug, then smiles all over again. "I've already started on the book, but who knows where it will end? I've met ... " She almost elaborates on the creatures she's met, the timeless beings, the gods, and the other things. But then she stops; In Victor she can see a reflection of the Lightfoot patriarch, and in doing so she can hear him decline her mysteries for his comfortable world, all over again. And so she closes her muzzle, looking pensive.
After a moment of thought, she instead asks, "If it's not asking too much, would you mind showing me a little about the piano? How to play? I think music is what's needed."
The tiger slides over to the right, leaving room on the bench for Tasha to sit. "I'm realizing the feathered eye isn't makeup, since the hand would be rather hard to fake. You're a finger short on your left hand."
"The circles I run in occassionally involve unfortuate but necessary uses of explosives. It did give me the time needed to learn to paint, however." Tasha reaches her taloned hand over so that the man can see it, in case that's useful to him. "I like to tell people I'm a mostly Vartn now." She grins somewhat lopsidedly as she takes another sip; The expression makes her think of Nora.
"Here.." Victor says, and places Tasha's fingers on her side of the keyboard. He teaches a very simple chord that only uses two fingers of each hand, and her go through it until the timing is down right. Then he starts to play the rest of the music on his half. It isn't adventurous.. but it does, in some way, transport a person to another world.
Tasha thinks it's a beautiful world, showing her that worlds aren't always floating balls of rock in the gulf of space, but also exist right beside her in the hearts and minds of other people. And from them, in music, in paint, in arts and science and so much else beside. Here in this place that's so new to her, she feels as far away as she ever might on a distant world, and without those she loves near her to keep her warm. Yet, there's another warmth here. In culture, in a room built for coziness, and in the new worlds that open up before her as she sits at the piano in the company of a man she'd only met a moment ago.