Luckily, Dar was only slightly hungover when the invitation came for a dinner party at the Coalition manse atop the tower. Abel helped the big Eeee into something a bit more formal looking than his usual attire, and Myrtle commented that the over-the-shoulder sash in particular made him look quite dashing.
In keeping with the style of the building, the tables are low to the ground and the guests sit on pillows or cushions rather than chairs - an important feature given that the Saskanar breed of Eeee have no separate arms, and so need extra room to maneuver their wings around - or just as often, use their feet instead. There is a lot of fruit and produce on the table as well, as opposed to the typical insect-protein heavy cuisine of Babel.
Dar is announced by the Fnerf seneschal, and brought to the low table where Thath sits. The party is relatively small. Dar recognizes Councilman Khanti and his perpetually sour expression right away. Another Eeee is tall and quite handsome, clearly a noble but not wearing any of the markings of a Coalition Councilman. Seated furthest away is a surprising figure: the middle-aged Eeee that Dar mostly remembers giggling while Hastur Velkarno melted into a puddle of goo: Butterscotch's business partner, Damo Phizcarro.
"So glad you could join us, Dar," Thath says, gesturing to a cushion next to him. "Have a seat and I'll introduce you around."
Dar's head tilts slightly to the side, then he nods once. His wings snap back as he circles the table around to his chair, then settles down into it and places his hands in his lap. "Well, this will be awkward," he thinks as he looks over those gathered, Khanti in particular.
"Councilmen Ezred Khanti, one of our oldest and most outspoken members," Thath notes. The old perverted bat nods in acknowledgement, but doesn't speak. "And one or Babels most prominent nobles, Herod bar Abbas, whose family served the Sabaoth for uncounted generations." The nobleman nods his head in greeting as well, a noncommittal gesture from one who doesn't know Dar's social standing yet. "And one our new merchant leaders, Mr. Damo Phizcarro, who kindly provided the produce from Saskanar tonight."
"You flatter me, Lord Thath," the merchant says. "While I had it brought, it came from your own estates in Saskanar. Pleased to meet you, Dar."
Dar's brow goes up slightly at mention of estates in Saskanar. "It is an honor to meet all of you," Dar says politely, as well as neutrally.
"Master Siefert has come all the way from Sylvania on behalf of the Countess Draco, who wishes us well in our efforts to rebuild Babel," Thath introduces. "Quite a few of our prominent families can trace some ancestry to Sylvania. Isn't that right, Herod?"
"We do tend to stand out," the tall bat notes. He does have the Sylvanian build, and deeper voice.
"Hmmph," Khanti grunts, and covers it by coughing.
"For good or bad," Dar notes, "Rumors abound, as do comments, and even those who will not take quarters near one on the same ship. And even others that harbor general dislike, but at least have the manners to not express it." The last bit comes with a quick glance towards Khanti.
Herod laughs, and Dar gets a tingle from the shadow. It's not strong enough to indicate a possession or black-heart, but more of a scent of such a thing.
"Have the investigators turned up anything more in the Velkarno case?" Khanti asks Thath, clearly not interested in bloodlines at the moment.
Alptraum glances back towards Herod; looking much amused himself. This also gives him time to focus and see if the tingle game from him.
"This is meant to be a pleasant and casual get-together, Ezred," Thath notes, but with a smile. "When the investigation is finished, the results will be presented to the full council."
Alptraum -> Dar
There isn't anything directly linking Herod to the sensation, other than a sense of.. clinginess to him. As if he'd been in contact with some hosting a shadow-symbiote, at least.
"I heard rumor that some great beast attacked a building in this city," Dar comments, "Such occurrences are not unknown to me; given Sylvania's reputation. But, more often than not rumors of a monster just mask that it was another group or two. It is a common Gallesian tactic and excuse for why they should take over some lands."
Servants arrive, bearing platters with tea and wine services, and rolling out what might be a portable mini-bar. A hidden quartet begins to play half-way familiar music to Dar - not exactly Gypsy, but with undertones of it, along with something else.
Being a musician himself, Dar's ears flick back and listen, trying to pick apart the influences.
"The poodles are done with us, I think," Khanti notes, sounding a bit bitter. "But it would cover a kidnapping of one noble by another," he suggests, glancing at Herod.. who completely ignores the implication and turns his attention to the dance floor.
It soon becomes clear what the second influence is: Gigi! Golden furred girls in grass skirts appear, complete with flower necklaces and sea-shell 'pasties' - but they're also wearing belly-dancers belts, shell-bell bracelets and anklets.. and tassles. Tassles hang from the sides of their hips, and from their seashells. They cluster together, as if hiding something between them.
"Oh my," Damo says, and takes a moment to wipe the lenses of his glasses.
"Are you sure, Councilman?" Dar asks of Khanti. "Ever hear the phrase, 'The Slow Blade Cuts Deepest'? Much can be done from the shadows and in secret, just waiting for the time to strike. But I digress; I have read far too many legends." His attention now shifts to the felines. This isn't so bad at all, even if the Gigi are weird.
The music picks up, and the girls' hips do their magic. It's an odd blend of Gigi hula and Gypsy belly-dance - or burlesque, given the tassels. Soon those are spinning around, as the sextet of dancers begin to spread outward, revealing the figure that was hidden between them..
The seventh dancer is a human. Brown-skinned and eyed, the costume has a different effect when there's bare skin instead of fur. This dancer also has two (clearly fake) scimitars in her hands.
"You don't see one of those very often," Abbas says approvingly.
Dar's brow arches again as he watches the dance. He surly recognizes bits of the moves, having grown up around dancers in kind. It's interesting how cultures all bleed into each other over the years. He takes this moment to enjoy a small drink as he watches.
While the felines continue the hula-belly-tassle dance, the central dancer isn't dancing so much as going through a ritualized kata, striking poses with the swords between bouts of tassel-spinning and skirt-shaking.
The Savanite serving girl next to Dar offers him a grape from the table.
It strikes Dar to watch for symbols of Nala in this, as the Gigi do worship her after all; as well possible meaning in the kata. as for the grape, he accepts it, even if he cannot swallow it. It'll at least taste good.
"Savage but entertaining," Khanti mutters, sniffing at a pear while watching the show.
"Savage is relative," Dar remarks, "I know the rituals your religions practiced."
There is something to the movements that picks at Dar's memory. Then it seems to click: an image of Mave calling a demon up out of a well. It's not exactly the same, but some of the poses fit. Take away the frilly hula stuff, and it might even resemble Savanite spell-dancing.
"It's a summoning dance. But summoning what?" Dar has to wonder as he enjoys the grape.
The serving girl purrs happily that the grape was accepted, and pours Dar more wine. The central dancer spins, causing the grass skirt to flare out (is she wearing anything under it though? It's hard to tell) before stabbing her blades into a clay pot that was behind her. They come out glistening, but are tossed up into the air a moment later. Passing through tiers of the chandelier above, they come down with blades aflame. The woman catches them by the handles, and the dance really begins, as the musicians switch to bongo drums.
Dar flashes a practically flirtatious smile to the Savanite. He takes a sip from the wine, letting it mix with the flavor of the grape. He would pay more attention to the spotted cat, but the dance has much of his attention. He watches the movements, searching for meaning.
If the dance is relaying a story, it's a confusing one. The six Gigi surround the sword-bearer again, only to bend over backwards and touch the floor with their hands (all while keeping those chest-tassels twirling) as the flaming blade passes over them. It might symbolize them being cut down, but they pop right back up once the blades pass to 'attack' the next dancer in the circle.
Dar swirls his glass as he continues to watch. He also focuses for a moment on his own shadow-bond, to see if this dance is stirring it any.
If anything is being stirred by the dance.. it's not the shadow. Now the dancers expand their ring, and the blades begin to flash and flame between them as they're juggled back and forth. The human dancer stands perfectly still in the center.. except that her hips are still shaking around and while her arms and shoulders remain stationary, she's still able to keep her breast-tassels twirling by bobbing things up and down with pectoral power.
"You have to be in some kind of shape to do that," Dar thinks, amused. He takes another sip from his wine glass. His eyes then flick to the others, to see what their expressions are.
Damo seems to be completely discombobulated by the performance, alternately gaping at the spectacle and wincing at the notion of flames coming so close to exposed skin and fur. Herod has his server in his lap, feeding him grapes - but still seems focused on the dance. His expression is a bit intense though, as if he's trying to memorize the dance moves. Ezred pays attention only enough to show that he's paying attention. Thath, naturally, is watching everyone else.
Dar smirks slightly as he glances towards Thath. HE does seem to think having someone in his lap does seem like a good idea, so he tries to pull the Savanite into his as he resumes watching the dance.
It also becomes clear what the point of passing those flaming swords around is: soon all of the tassels are on fire, creating circles of light. The central dancer plucks the swords from the air, performs a sweeping move that lights her own tassels and then.. lights her skirt! She spins just enough to keep the burning edge away from her skin without blowing out the flame, but the grass burns quickly.
"Now that's brave. And painful if they mess up," Dar has to think, impressed. "I have no desire to dance while on fire!"
"I wonder how they keep the tassels from igniting the flowers," Herod mutters.
As the tassels burn down, the dancers transfer them to their fingers. The ones from their hips spin palm-side, while the sea-shells gets plucked and discarded, save for the tassels which spin on the back-sides of their hands. Except for the sword-dancer, who has her hands full, and is running out of costume.
"Wow, what a new way to strip-tease," Dar has to think. He will not mention this to anyone else, lest they get him to do it. Still, it is an impressive show!
The Gigi's turn towards the human now, and the music becomes even more pounding. The swords flash, feet stomp, and in one dizzying move the woman uses the swords to knock away her sea-shells and sever the ties holding on the belly-dancing belt, just as the grass skirt finishes going up in smoke. The swords are raised up, then swung down to strike one another just before her chest, where the blades explode into a cloud of sparks! The other dancers rush in, the music stops, and the naked (save for flower necklace and bracelets and anklets) woman is held up above the other dancers, who spin around twice before leaving the dance-floor.
Damo is the first to recover and applaud. "Did that really happen?" he asks the others. "Was there fire magic involved?"
"How like life. Bring someone to excitement, then leave them wanting," Dar muses before taking a drink from his glass to settle that sort of feeling. "It didn't involve any magic that I could tell and I have seen a fair amount in Sylvania. They are just skilled dancers."
"A bit meaty," Khanti notes. "Humans always flopping around and jiggling. Can't trust 'em."
Dar's lap-cheetah offers him another grape, but kisses it first.
Dar takes it then pops it in his mouth. A thought crosses his mind and he gives it back to the Savanite ... by kissing her.
"That troupe is just passing through, and it took quite a bit of convincing to get them to perform in Babel," Thath notes. "Safety is still of concern for travelers, where once we attracted exotic performances from around the globe."
The Savanite grins in surprise, and eats the grape.
"What is the name of the troupe and how long will they be here?" Dar has to ask. He flashes a grin to the Savanite afterward.
"We had our own home-grown performers too," Herod points out. "Who were in high demand around the world.."
"Oh? Who were they?" Dar asks.
"Ah yes, I do miss your late brother, Herod," Thath notes. "The Sabaoth was fond of hearing Abednego sing.. when he wasn't jaunting about from capitol to capitol, spreading culture."
"One of the great opera singers.. was your brother, Lord Abbas?" Damo asks.
"Yes, before he was cruelly murdered on Rephidim, during a performance of.. that Sylvanian opera," Herod says, and takes a deep drink from his cups. He looks to Dar, and notes, "The Countess was there, I believe. I don't know if she enjoyed the performance though."
"Was this the party that involved a confrontation with the Marquis?" Dar inquires before taking another sip from his glass. "Which Opera was performed?"
"The Sylvanian.. Heresy?" Herod offers, uncertain. "It was quite a to-do, with all of the Sylvanian royalty and some of the Gallisians. I think it was some grand plan to bring them together in a peaceful social setting.. but nobility always bickers. We're bred for it. And of course with my brother being poisoned by that Sylvanian countess Ophelia.."
"And you have undeniable proof Countess Ophelia was the culprit?" Dar inquires, curious. "Many things are blamed on us, after all."
"Allegedly poisoned by Ophelia," Thath notes. "The legend about Aeonians being immune to poison is just that: a legend. Just because the unicorns ate from the same plate as your brother and failed to drop dead is hardly proof they were the poisoners."
"Abednego had plenty of enemies," Khanti notes, a bit too gleefully. "Why, I heard it was all faked, because his cover was blown and it was going to come out that he was a spy for the Sabaoth all along.."
"I take it you were one of his enemies, Khanti?" Dar inquires, "As your tone suggests you took some satisfaction in his death."
Herod turns an icy glare on the older Eeee, but doesn't respond. Dar notices the tensing of considerable muscle beneath the man's clothes though. There's little doubt that Herod bar Abbas could snap Khanti in half if we wanted to.
"We all served the Sabaoth in our own ways," Khanti replies to Dar. "Some more openly and honestly, is the difference. The high nobles always preferred to play at intrigue."
"I will admit to resenting Abednego's position.. and how he used it," the old Eeee continues. "He was not a well-liked man. Pompous, arrogant, self-"
"Enough," Thath says, softly but with finality. "Please save your sniping for other functions."
Khanti looks smug at having gotten in the final word, at least.
"Thank you for your honest answer, Khanti," Dar says and even raises his glass. "It speaks of your character."
"And such matters are in the past. what matters is the future. The Countess has some interest in what happens here, hence why I was sent," Dar comments, changing the subject.
"Very fascinating, all this history," Damo says, taking a sip of his own drink. "Ah, interest? As you can see, we have finally begun shipping in food from the Saskanar territories, now that we have an agreement with the various parties and.. ah.. certain rogue elements interfering with the trade routes are less troublesome now. But Sylvania is so far away. What can Babel provide of interest to your Countess?"
Herod focuses on Dar now, curious about his reply.
"Family ties and common histories," Dar answers and shrugs slightly. "As pointed out earlier, there are some in this city that have roots in Sylvania."
"And perhaps some day we will stand together," Dar adds. "But that matter is not in my hands; I simply delivered a message."
"Oh," the merchant says, a bit less excited. "Perhaps books then?" he asks, perking back up. "Babelite culture is old and deep."
"Do you know if she has spoken to others amid the Sylvanian nobility about such things?" Herod asks, swirling his glass so his attendant can't top it back off.
"Or wine. Ever have a bottle of Mephisto?" Dar inquires. "Contrary to popular belief, we do produce things in Sylvania."
"I've not heard of it," Damo admits. "Although wine is a bit outside my field of knowledge, aside from shipping the ingredients.."
"Memory wine, if I recall," Thath notes. "I'm not sure the Yodhsunala would approve of it, however."
"It is a wine that captures the memories of the past and allows you to see them," Dar half-explains, confirming Thath's explanation. "Rare."
"Yes, I can see the Yodh having issues with that," Khanti notes. "As if what they think matters anymore."
"Do not disrespect them," Herod says. "One day, hopefully soon, you will be in need of their services after all, elder." Now it's Abbas's turn to look smug.
"All opinions matter, Khanti," Dar points out. "Besides, aren't some of the rumors going around the city things about divine retribution?"
"Retribution," the old man grunts, and gestures in the direction of the Wound. "That's all the Retribution we need to think about. Men should fear the power of men, not of gods."
"Power isn't about fear," Thath claims. "Not all of it, anyway. Not anymore."
Nobody seems about to argue with Thath on that point, but clearly Abbas and Khanti think otherwise.
"And this dinner isn't about unpleasant things," Dar comments, then pats the behind of the Savanite still with him. He looks to Damo now. "Do the new markets look promising?" he asks.
"Very! Of course, we have to be careful," the merchant says, happy to talk about something positive. "It's rather complicated, really. You can't have too much food or else it can't be distributed fast enough and the pricing will suffer. But you can't have too little, or else it becomes a luxury item. Still, we have to assume a certain amount of losses, or spoilage that might still be useful to some.."
"The main thing is that we aren't dependant on bribery anymore," Phizcarro concludes. "The market will be stable, and accessible."
"That does sound like a step in the right direction, yes. Contrary to all the spooky stories about the Countess, she often spends her time dealing with matters of farming logistics in the county and its markets as well," Dar notes. "The glamors of rulership."
"So, am I still allowed to purchase goods and resell them to my tenants at my own rates?" Abbas asks.
"Well, they could still come to the markets to buy it themselves of course," the merchant says, and laughs nervously. After all, the nobles basically ruled their own feudal kingdoms within the city before.
"It will all be worked out in Council," Thath assures. "The advantage of having a ruling body, is that they can share the work," he asides to Dar.
"You might be better served to offer a courier service to get supplies for your tenants from the marketplace with only a nominal fee for delivery, than to try and run your own market," Dar suggests to Abbas. He also nods to Thath.
"There are those who would hire the same couriers to ensure I never got my deliveries though," Herod notes. "In any case, it will all depend on how the city is.. redistricted."
"A discussion for Council," Thath notes to Herod. "I have no say in how the city is sectioned."
"I certainly do not," Dar notes and raises his glass.
A servant pokes his head in from a side chamber, and makes a quick gesture towards the tables. "Ah, it seems the performers are ready for another dance," Thath says. "Let us relax and enjoy the novelty, which will surely inspire us to strive for a return of such exotic entertainments to Babel."
"One thing I think everyone can agree on, at least," Dar says in agreement. He conveniently leaves out the part about slinky, pretty, women. He has some social grace, after all.
After the small party has wound down, Dar and Thath retreat to the Prime Minister's private office. "I do hope you weren't too bored," Thath says, somewhat apologetically. "But I was hoping to hear your impressions on the other guests."
"Kanti is slime, and that's insulting to slime," Dar remarks as he settles into a chair. "Herod is ... interesting. He has also been associating with someone contaminated by the touch of Amena. He has her 'taste' on him, so to speak. How or why, I cannot say. I just know he has been near her 'powers'."
"I am not surprised, and I will tell you why later," Thath notes. "What about mister Phizcarro?"
"Honest and he has a good heart. Truth be told, I have met him once before, but he would not recognize me," Dar answers. "But my impression of him is that he truly wants to help people."
"He's Zannaran," Thath notes, nodding. "They have rather rigid belief in fairness. I know he was at Velkarno's the night of the noble's... unexplained disappearance. Is that where you know him from?"
"Indirectly," Dar answers, but doesn't elaborate.
"Do you know why he was there?" Thath asks, and goes about heating a kettle on a small stove, rather than call a servant.
"To track down a girl that was kidnapped and sold as a pleasure slave by the pirates," Dar answers. "She was brought to me once she was found. I won't elaborate on what was done to her by them, but needless to say it was awful. It was touch and go to save her life."
"So, he really is as he appears," Thath says. "I'll have to assign some unseen protection for him. An honest man with powerful friends will make many nervous in Babel."
"The Velkarno family were not good people," Dar notes as he steeples his fingers together. "The wife used to eat the children of the slaves for pleasure. On top of the mutilation they did to the slaves themselves." He stops there and shakes his head. "But yes, Damo is an honest and good man. He is also likely in great danger. Herod's own comments about a free market are proof enough of the risk he poses to them."
"As for dear Herod, I am fairly certain the taint you sensed means that he is still in contact with his brother," Thath says, as he sets out a tea service.
Dar's brow arches slightly. "Oh? why do you suspect that?" he asks.
"Well, as you heard, Abednego was poisoned on Rephidim," Thath says. "I'm quite certain of that, because I'm the one who had him poisoned. He was a Sabaoth's Eye - a spy. But I had reason to question his allegiance. You see, his reports to the Sabaoth didn't quite match up with what my people who were spying on Abednego were telling me. He was either working his own game, or following the General's agenda. I wanted to send a message about going over my head in such matters."
"The funny thing is, his body vanished from the Temple morgue the next day," Thath notes, checking the kettle.
"Hm," Dar says as he settles back in his chair, propping his head up with his left arm. "Well, if he was one of the General's agents, killing him merely activates his ... implant. He becomes her walking extension."
"The Sylvanians certainly loathed him, and he them, at the opera party," Thath explains. "There where sightings of him - or someone closely resembling him - within the Palace as well. Always second-hand ones. 'Oh, he sounded just like him,' and 'He was thinner, but how many tall handsome men are there like that?' and such. Those stopped once the Boomer dropped, of course. No more palace."
"And are you now asking me to track him down?" Dar inquires. "Dangerous creatures."
"I'm asking if there is enough suspicion for me to watch Herod's holdings and the comings and goings of his guests," Thath notes. "If Abednego has survived, and become some undead creature, then he must renew himself off of the living in some manner, correct? Is there some sort of behavior to watch for or remains that would make it clear?"
Dar rubs his chin, thinking. "Watching them would be wise," he concedes, "But as for exact evidence; possibly. Corpses that appear drained; dehydrated; husks of skin, are one possibility from my experiences. But that was from creatures made from the Shadow of Amena, and Amena no longer has that. But, she did learn to mimic some of its abilities."
"Something like that would certainly be noted," Thath agrees. "I'll have someone sift through the reports of corpses that people bothered to file. And also alert my agents in the Streets Below to listen for any chatter in the Diphath cults - for instance some group having a special guest or master. Maybe one that demands sacrifices."
"Ah, right. There are old buildings and even Temples below; I remember some of the Frescos," Dar agrees and even nods. "I suppose I could also try to barter with Barada or her agents for information; but that is always a double-edged gamble."
"The Yodhbarada are not what they once were," Thath notes. "Scattered, with only a few operating in the city it seems. Contacting one does bring up another related issue though: how are we to communicate covertly? If I have information for you, I'll need a way to get it to you unnoticed."
"Hm. Through Savanites, I imagine. They are ubiquitous enough to not be readily noticed. We have contacts in the city here and there. Some often watching the Plaza, in fact. I suggest some slight pattern of dress, like a scarf or similar with colors based on what day it is. It wouldn't stand out much unless it is known to look for. Then one of my allies could make contact; and transfer it between a couple intermediaries before it gets to me. Alternatively, I could try to contact you via dream, but I imagine that would be detected," Dar suggests.
"I don't always remember my dreams," Thath admits, and starts making the tea as the kettle starts to jet steam. "I will have Abel bring the color code to you. How do you take your tea?"
"Straight," Dar says. "Couldn't often afford sugar, so I'm used to it straight. And as for Abel, good. I trust him for the most part. He has an odd sense of humor, though."
"Only the most trusted slaves are allowed to display personality quirks," Thath points out, and passes over an expensive cup of bitter looking tea.
Dar sits up and takes the cup. "Secretly I think Abel tries to annoy me," he remarks before taking a sip from the cup.
"That is part of his job, yes," Thath notes with a slight grin. "People reveal things when they're annoyed. Why else would I keep Khanti around?"
"Well, in that case I'll send him from my quarters. I have to keep some secrets," Dar says simply, then takes another long sip from his cup.
"Who would you rather have?" Thath asks. His own tea is also unseasoned.
"Probably no one, then," Dar notes. "I don't like being spied on."
Thath raises an eyebrow, and asks, "I didn't say he was spying on you. Just that that particularly quirk of his can be used that way. I haven't even asked Myrtle about you."
"She would say I'm boring," Dar notes, "She took me to a dance club and got them to paint me. It was strange."
This seems to give Thath pause. "Portrait painters at a dance club?" he asks.
"No. They painted me. So I would glow," Dar explains.
"I am clearly behind the times, as they say," Thath notes.
"So am I, apparently," Dar says and shrugs a bit. "And I suppose since I won't be here that much longer, Abel will stay where he is. He has to get me the codes, after all."
"I'll have them delivered along with the letter to the Countess in the morning," Thath promises. "Is there anything else you'd like me to research and send you?"
Dar rubs his chin a bit. "Have there been any recent movement of people in the Undercity? Vacating areas, or flocking to others? Or areas that have become areas of increased conflict? And oh, where are the slave markets? I might want to keep an eye on those because, well, 'low value' ones would be good 'no questions asked' food for the Opera Singer."
"I'll collect the information that I can," Thath notes. "The Undercity markets are fairly mobile. Slave markets should be easier, since they have to register."
"The ones who had the best maps of the Streets Below were the Yodhgorphat, unfortunately," the old Eeee notes.
"I think they would be good to keep an eye on," Dar says and nods. "Also, it might be interesting to see if anyone is running 'adventure tours' of the forbidden zone. I can't imagine some noble with delusions of grandeur wouldn't sign up, then become yet another Puppet of Amena once they enter. It would be an effective lure, at least. Pander to the ego." Dar suggests. His ears perk at the mention of the Yodhgorphat. "Oh? I can go to the old Temple. I know it reasonably well. If the records are there, I'll find them."
"Be careful, son," Thath says, not looking happy at the notion of going into an old temple. "I'll see what can be found about the Valley of Mists. The Royal Library was caught in the Boomer, but there were other sources. Some nobles collected books, after all."
"I'll be okay. I know the Temple and its traps enough to avoid them," Dar claims. "As for the rest, thank you. I know much is likely dead-ends, but I'm trying to cover all possibilities."
"I have found it best to try and eliminate the possibilities you might be least prepared for first," Thath notes. "It was good to see you again, even if you are wearing a different face. I hope one day to see you walk these halls in the one you were born with, without need to hide."
Dar starts to say something, then pauses. "I cannot promise that will happen," he finally admits. "Amena is dangerous. This is a risk. But, it has to be done. I just hope all goes well."
"Hope is what sustains us in these times," Thath notes, and raises his cup as if in toast before sipping from it.
Dar raises his glass in kind. "May its light still shine," he adds in conclusion.
There isn't a guard posted outside of the guest suite, so Dar has to knock on the door himself. It isn't opened by Abel, but by a golden Khatta with long black hair, a flower necklace.. and that's about it. "Helloo?" she purrs, looking at Dar with big amber eyes. "Oh, it is you.. the lingstudness from the hulabaloo, come in!" she says, and opens the door the rest of the way.
Dar's brow goes up at that. "The who, what?" he ends up asking fore he enters his own room. "How did you get in here?" he asks, "Not that you're armed; that much is apparent."
The other dancers are in the room, draping themselves over the available furniture, including the stuff that should not normally be draped over. Some are using their flexibility to groom themselves, and others are using it to groom one another. All of them naked, save for bits of jewelry or flowers, the exception being the human dancer. She's completely bare, standing up in the room's tub and covered in swaths of soap suds. Abel is next to her, holding a sponge, and looking very guilty when he notices Dar standing in the doorway.
The slave uses his free hand to sign, "They brought some fruit."
Dar clicks his tongue. "Ah, you decided to have a party," he remarks, possibly annoyed by the room invasion. "I'll get my stuff and leave you to it, then," he says as he goes to collect his belongings.
"Party?" one of the dancers asks, pinching Dar's rear as he passes.
Abel is torn between his duty and.. sponge-bathing an exotic furless human. "No no no!" he signs frantically. "They just appeared! The Prime Minister sent them! You should not refuse such a gift." Unsigned, but on the cheetah's face, is the followup, "And I'll get in so much trouble if you do."
"Well, you are here apparently doing things with my attendant," Dar points out and rubs his backside. "I guess he deserves his fun, so I'll get out of his way."
"He's the washyman," one upside-down lounging girl notes. "We can play with the slavelicious?" asks another. "We were told you would show us some dance moves," adds the human, without any of the distortion of a Gigi accent. Although if that voice could be bottled, it'd make for a very popular liqueur.
Dar rubs his forehead. "Wait, so why are you here?" he finally asks. "Did the Prime Minister really send you?"
"We were told to come here when we were done performing," the woman says, smiling at Dar. "Before we started. You enjoyed our show?" she asks.
"Well, of course. It looked like a mix of folk dancing and Savanite magic dance," Dar admits and rubs his neck. "And probably tribute to Nala."
"You are familiar with Gigi ritual dance?" the girl asks, stepping out of the tub and dripping all over the place as she comes over to Dar, causing Abel to discard the sponge and scramble for a towel. "And folk dance?"
"I'm familiar with several dances," Dar claims, looking a bit confused. "So I recognized elements of it and the rest I figured out from knowing about your culture."
"What dances do you know?" the girl asks. "I am Lain," she also introduces herself, holding out a hand as Abel frantically tried to pat her dry without rubbing anything.
She then points to the Gigis, introducing them as Mula, Mila, Mina, Mali, Momo and Minerva. Five of them are sisters. The six is a cousin apparently.
"Mostly Sylvanian folk dances," Dar admits, "And a few ones taught to Abu Dhabian dancers. I'm not that good." Which may be true since he mostly danced as a woman! It's also distracting being surrounded by a bunch of naked girls.
"And I'm hardly dressed to demonstrate any," Dar says quickly.
"Oh, we can fix that!" Lain says, and Dar is mobbed by a bunch of the dancers and quickly stripped bare.. until they put a grass skirt on him.
"Hey, watch the hands, no don't grab that!" Dar complains as he fights a lot of grabby hands. By the time the skirt is on him, he has to ask, "You aren't setting this on fire, right?"
"No, only I can do that," Lain notes, and points to her bare skin. "No fur." Indeed, she's even shaved down there. "Do you need clackers?"
Dar stares. "You shaved," he remarks, blinking.
"Don't want that to burn," Lain notes. "Can you dance now? Or just show us moves?"
"I can try, I guess?" Dar admits. He has to actually think about this for a bit before he tries to demonstrate the moves of the Radovah Daughters. He watched them a lot and did memorize the moves. Granted he doesn't have the hips for it, but because he's worn a female body a lot, he surprises himself with how well he mimics their movement. The first part of traditional gypsy dance. Following from that it goes into more Abu Dhabian style; the stuff learned to entertain Kazuhiko...
And the part based around Kazuhiko ... he uses Lain as the stand-in ... and she has to suffer the brushing, touching, and teasing.
The dancers try to follow along, of course.. right down to caressing each other, as if that really were part of the dance! Abel just stands by the tub, towel in hand, and stares.
Lain giggles. "You will have to show me learner's way for some of this," she says.
And Dar, being evil, moves to Abel and starts using him as the stand-in ... and strips him down too in the process. "You have to suffer too," he whispers in Abel's ear before going back to Lain. "Oh, well, learning it means slower and explaining each mode."
"No, there is easier way," Lain insists, and turns around to back up right against the Eeee. "Put hands on me, guide my moves," she says.
One of the dancers has gotten hold of Abel to use for practice as well. Apparently there are limits to the cheetah's self-control from the way he reacts..
"If you say so," Dar stammers as he presses up against Lain's body from behind. "So, like this..." he tries to explain and move, while moving her body too.
"Yes, and you should make the rhythm," Lain says. "Do you understand? Can you make the music?"
"Maybe?" Dar admits hesitantly. He tries to hum the tune as he moves now. This is getting very distracting!
It probably doesn't help when of the Gigi's comes up behind Dar and presses against him.. following his moves, of course. Then another takes position in front of Lain. It's almost like creating a new sort of dance, where everyone is in a straight line one behind the other.
"I take no responsibility if you get poked," Dar mutters. He really tries to focus on the dancing ... but his body seems to want to do other things, and his hands tend to explore a bit.
"Poked?" Lain asks, and.. turns around to face Dar, but is still pressed up against him. "Is that a dance?" Of course, the three dancers in front of her all spin around as well, and look over the human's shoulder at Dar.
"You only have a grass skirt protecting you," Dar deadpans. "Right, dance, anyway ... let me focus. Dance." And from there Dar really does try to behave, be good, and dance, but being this close to a human has certain reactions, as does having all the other felines around. But, as they say, what happens in Babel, stays in Babel!