The Multiverse Inn

Discussions about constructed worlds, cultures and any topics related to constructed societies.
Firebird766
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

Post by Firebird766 »

elemtilas wrote:"I see. I suppose there must be many of you, then, that never help with food production at all? That is different: for us, we will all take our turns in the gardens & orchards or with the animals. And the same will be true of building needed structures and maintaining them. It sounds to me that among your folk, people are very limited in your roles within society. Like you: you will be a healer, but never help repair a bridge or build a barn or become a jurist! It is different among us. "
"We tend to specialize in Naqil. We train in a single skill and do that one thing for our living, unless circumstances arise to change that. A doctor is a stable career, but there are two kinds and my kind could fall out of favor, I suppose. The priests have greater concerns at the moment than the proliferation of herb- over priest-doctors, though." Not that the priests liked having doctors they didn't personally control, but fortunately for her they seemed to think that foreign cultural influence was something more important to deal with.
elemtilas wrote:"Hih! It seems to me your rulers are busy little bees! Our Greatqueen and her councillors certainly meet to talk about what needs discussing, but I gather they make time for their other duties within the queenhold. I wonder though: how can you keep a councilor at duty when once your folk have discovered that he is incompetent for the task?"
Risatri seems concerned about the suggestion. It's nothing obvious -she's long since learned to mask negative emotions under a veneer of professionalism- but there's a slight crinkle to her eyebrows, a tendency for her eyes not to stay on one thing. "It's no good habit, to start removing leaders from power on a whim," she says after a moment. "The first time, yes, would be replacing an incompetent Councilor. But then what? Perhaps, having set precedent, next time we replace someone for merely being not quite as clever as the rest of the Council. And then, for making a decision that is unpopular, but necessary. Eventually we would end up like Nitch, replacing a leader every year for not being well-spoken or handsome, or for just existing when something unfortunate happens. The only presidents of theirs that last are the ones that are pure charisma and nothing else, leaving intelligence, common-sense, and benevolence by the wayside."

"Councilor Taradaremi's incompetence is harmless. There are eight other Councilors to make up for him, and his assistant does quite well on her own merit. To be honest, it's a popular rumor that she was deliberately planted there to keep him under control. I suspect by Councilor Ixesremi of Culture. She's exactly the sort of no-nonsense woman who would do something like that."
Gossip about the Councilors? A-ok. Just don't talk about trying to get rid of one, or anything else that could possibly be interpreted as inciting rebellion.
elemtilas wrote:"The Moult? You are really interested in our wingfeathers? Sure I can tell you!"

"Well, let me start when a child is born. We're born with very small wings, much shorter than our arms, and these are covered with a soft whitish fuzz, more like a rabbit's fur than any kind of Daine hair or feathers. By the time the baby has maybe six months or so, the fuzz becomes tiny downy feathers. These downy feathers will remain on the child's wings for a few years."

[A WHOLE LOT OF OTHER REALLY COOL STUFF]
Risatri sits up and listens intently. When Enca brings up her and Nico's most recent molt, she reaches into a pocket on the side of her dress and retrieves a small codex. Unlike the books of modern Earth, the pages fold like an accordion instead of being nestled within each other. A brush wrapped in oiled cloth is retrieved from the same pocket, and a vial is plucked from inside the wooden case. Once opened, it apparently contains a deep red ink.

She starts scribbling fiercely, making notes in a fast, simple shorthand that all too quickly turns into chaos as she simultaneously tries to write down what Enca says and sketch out what her wing looks like. More than a little bit of ink splatters in a particularly inconvenient way and has to be worked around. The same thing happens when Enca brings out the two different kinds of combs, and yet again when she demonstrates 'punching' with the joint of the wing. The sketch for the last one has a theoretical depiction of what those spikes might look like.

Look this is fascinating stuff okay? It totally makes sense that Risatri would get a little overenthusiastic about getting everything recorded and try to do too much at once.

There's probably something she can say here that is professional and calm, yet also gets across just how much she's interested in hearing more. Unfortunately, "How strong are your wings? Can you lift things with them? Can I touch them?" are all just more questions. And the last one is probably a little creepy, too.
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

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Egerius wrote:The whizzing sound heard but minutes ago can be heard again. The phone booth slowly fades into reality, and once it becomes opaque, the only sound it makes is a very quiet buzzing sound that seems to come from what's inside.
Lights can be seen shining from inside, and two people are talking: One voice, if listened to carefully, is recognisable as Argenzu, the other, though also male, belongs to another person.

The duo seems to be really excited about something, but neither gets out of the box.
One may be able to hear something being enumerated (cloak, tie, backpack, laptop), things being lifted and some clothing being put on (it's the aforementioned cloak).

The door opens and two Rodentèrrans slowly march into the inn.
They are clothed in long, black cloaks, with the hoods covering most of the faces – except for their noses.
One of them has a beige line of fur on his nasal bridge, the remainder is brown; the other has a thin, white line of fur that slowly broadens, the remainder of fur is black.
With them, the two rodent folk have a large backpack each.
Their cloaks, on closer inspection, have a badge each sown on the left side, at chest height. This badge looks like a coat of arms; and this coat of arms consists of a silver bird in front of a blue escutcheon. At the bottom, the word Earnowe can be seen in (Roman) capital letters.
Well, someone sure means business. Badges, cloaks and hoods? These are official sorts, and no mistake.

The duo in the corner don't normally like engaging with official sorts. It's bad for business, when your business is so far under the table that it might as well be in the basement. But these two definitely aren't from Duneport. Rodent people? That's something from either a fantasy novel or one of the many corners of the internet. It's not something you see in real life without a creative application of makeup or a really good costume.

Therefore, they can't possibly cause any trouble even if they somehow do find out about the aforementioned below-the-table business. Therefore, it is perfectly safe for Elena and Mi- no. Best not use those names. Never use real names when talking to officials, even if they're harmless officials.

So instead, Clement and Vince are sauntering up to talk to the rat-men. "Friends!" says the taller of the two, smiling widely. "Or rather, friends-to-be! You two intrigue me, and there's nothing better for intrigue than a good drink. Clement, brother-o-mine. Buddy." The shorter one raises an eyebrow at him. "You're good for the tab, right?"

Clement casually smacks him upside the head. "Ow. Ok fine I'll pay. Anyway, I'm Vince. Vince Marten. And this is my brother Clement. He doesn't talk much, but that's fine because I talk enough for the both of us."
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

Post by Egerius »

Argenzu and his companion take off the hoods and take a look at the scene. One smiles, the other leaves his mouth open in awe.
This surpasses the footage you showed me... the black-furred fellow mumbles to Argenzu.
Awesome, right? That's why I wanted to show you this inn — the people, the atmosphere, the ideas. Come on, let's sit down near the window, Argenzu replies, overly happy to be here again.

The two sit down near a window by the entrance, so Argenzu can see his TARDIS. Argenzu gets out his laptop immediately and again begins recording the scene, while the other fellow somewhat uncomfortably looks around.

Do we really have to wear this? I mean... we're the only ones wearing Portman school uniforms.
The rodent takes the cloak off and places it over the backrest of the chair. The now visible clothing include a thin, black coat, jeans and dark shoes. His backpack is at the side of the chair, lying on the ground.

You read the books more thoroughly than me, Jácove, and don't tell me it doesn't remind you of the Twin Wands Tavern! Because that exact picture came into my mind when I read the passage in Gniezdania...
Argenzu is cut off by some people he hasn't seen the last time he as here.
Firebird766 wrote:"Friends!" says the taller of the two, smiling widely. "Or rather, friends-to-be! You two intrigue me, and there's nothing better for intrigue than a good drink. Clement, brother-o-mine. Buddy." The shorter one raises an eyebrow at him. "You're good for the tab, right?"

Clement casually smacks him upside the head. "Ow. Ok fine I'll pay. Anyway, I'm Vince. Vince Marten. And this is my brother Clement. He doesn't talk much, but that's fine because I talk enough for the both of us."
Yeah, hi, Argenzu says to the two, I'm *Argenzu.
Hello, says Jácove, my name's *Jácove. We've got our own stuff with us, so we politely have to decline your offer.
Argenzu re-positions his laptop and puts the camera on top of it to save space, as he reaches out for his backpack and gets out a small, black, leather-coated notebook, a pencil and a bottle of apple juice.
Then Argenzu takes off his cloak, looks at it, smiles, and carefully places it inside his backpack.
The now visible clothing include a grey coat, jeans and dark shoes with velcro fasteners.

Jácove once more turns around and observes the people around him, then he also gets out stuff from his backpack: Also a notebook, a pencil, a bottle of water. His cloak goes straight back into the backpack.

Both of them wear glasses.


Just for the record: Argenzu [aɾd͡ʒˈɛnt͡su], Jácove [ˈʒaːkove]
Languages of Rodentèrra: Buonavallese, Saselvan Argemontese; Wīlandisċ Taulkeisch; More on the road.
Conlang embryo of TELES: Proto-Avesto-Umbric ~> Proto-Umbric
New blog: http://argentiusbonavalensis.tumblr.com
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elemtilas
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

Post by elemtilas »

Egerius wrote:Argenzu and his companion take off the hoods and take a look at the scene. One smiles, the other leaves his mouth open in awe.
This surpasses the footage you showed me... the black-furred fellow mumbles to Argenzu.
Awesome, right? That's why I wanted to show you this inn — the people, the atmosphere, the ideas. Come on, let's sit down near the window, Argenzu replies, overly happy to be here again.

(. . .)

Jácove once more turns around and observes the people around him, then he also gets out stuff from his backpack: Also a notebook, a pencil, a bottle of water. His cloak goes straight back into the backpack.
Nico turns towards the door as all sorts of odd sounds and muffled voices and shuffling of gear can be heard just outside the Inn. At last, the familiar face of Argenzu appears in the doorway, along with that of a newcomer. Perhaps we scared Beatrice away, after all? He's not at all sure what to make of that odd couple Clement and Vinzmaarten. He scowls slightly as they introduce themselves to Argenzu and Jácove. Hopefully they won't be the cause of any Trouble here!

As the one called Jácove stares about the room, Nico lifts his left wingtip in salutation: "Ayyo! That was fast Yarjinsu! You only left a moment ago, and now you're back again; but I do hope we didn't scare away your friend Berenece. She seemed so intent on making pictures and writing things in her books!" He turns his face towards Jácove: "Greetings! I am Nico." He twitches his left shoulder slightly, indicating Enca who is busy observing Risatri's own drawings and screevings: "That's my sister, Enca."
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

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Egerius wrote:Yeah, hi, Argenzu says to the two, I'm *Argenzu.
Hello, says Jácove, my name's *Jácove. We've got our own stuff with us, so we politely have to decline your offer.
Argenzu re-positions his laptop and puts the camera on top of it to save space, as he reaches out for his backpack and gets out a small, black, leather-coated notebook, a pencil and a bottle of apple juice.
Then Argenzu takes off his cloak, looks at it, smiles, and carefully places it inside his backpack.
The now visible clothing include a grey coat, jeans and dark shoes with velcro fasteners.

Jácove once more turns around and observes the people around him, then he also gets out stuff from his backpack: Also a notebook, a pencil, a bottle of water. His cloak goes straight back into the backpack.
Really? They're all cloak and fancy foreign badge and it turns out they're just students? They may be odd little ratfolk, but backpacks, notebooks, and jeans all scream student no matter what else you may look like. Hell, even a cyo would scream student in that getup. That makes this the saddest bit of intrigue they'd ever seen, excluding The Thing With The Elf. Bah. Oh well it's still workable. Students are easy to manipulate. And they're still ratfolk, which is interesting on its own.

"Well now I have to buy you something. Can't let a new friend make the faux pas of bringing in stuff to a bar. That's rude, it is," Vince counters, pulling up a seat without waiting for an invitation while Clement wanders off to track down the bartender.

Closer up, the taller man at least is a perfectly normal human. He's dressed normally enough, save for making the unfortunate choice of combining a burgundy pea coat with khakis (though Clement more than made up for that failing with a nice, sober grey combination on his part) and the only thing unusual about him is a downright tragic haircut.

Vince smiles, leaning back in his chair. "Now the two of you like like fine upstanding young- well, I assume men. We don't have beast-men back home, so I admit the two of you are a bit of a mystery."

Clement, returning, clears his throat. Thumb over his shoulder, he indicates a waiter before pointing at the silver watch around his wrist. Apparently something's on its way.

He then lightly taps Vince on the elbow. The taller man, not missing a beat, says, "Well yes but that's racist, that is. You can't call elves beast-men anymore. It's rude, and where would we be as a society if we just allowed our rudeness to run rampant?"

As the shorter man shrugs and sits down, it becomes clear that except for the differences in clothes and the aforementioned tragic haircut, the two of them look practically identical, with slick black hair, a sharply hooked nose, and cheekbones you could cut someone with. Clement might be slightly shorter and have a slightly slighter frame, but that's a rather minuscule difference.
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Egerius
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

Post by Egerius »

elemtilas wrote:As the one called Jácove stares about the room, Nico lifts his left wingtip in salutation: "Ayyo! That was fast Yarjinsu! You only left a moment ago, and now you're back again; but I do hope we didn't scare away your friend Berenece. She seemed so intent on making pictures and writing things in her books!" He turns his face towards Jácove: "Greetings! I am Nico." He twitches his left shoulder slightly, indicating Enca who is busy observing Risatri's own drawings and screevings: "That's my sister, Enca."
Well, for you it was a moment. For me, it was half a year.
And Berenice was probably just overwhelmed by the differernt people, so diverse from what we normally know, Argenzu explains.

Jácove turns around to Nico and Enca, smiles and waves his hand.
Then he says:
Argenzu told me about you. Now you truly look like human angels. Awesome!
Spoiler:
Firebird766 wrote:"Well now I have to buy you something. Can't let a new friend make the faux pas of bringing in stuff to a bar. That's rude, it is," Vince counters, pulling up a seat without waiting for an invitation while Clement wanders off to track down the bartender.

Closer up, the taller man at least is a perfectly normal human. He's dressed normally enough, save for making the unfortunate choice of combining a burgundy pea coat with khakis (though Clement more than made up for that failing with a nice, sober grey combination on his part) and the only thing unusual about him is a downright tragic haircut.

Vince smiles, leaning back in his chair. "Now the two of you like like fine upstanding young- well, I assume men. We don't have beast-men back home, so I admit the two of you are a bit of a mystery."

Clement, returning, clears his throat. Thumb over his shoulder, he indicates a waiter before pointing at the silver watch around his wrist. Apparently something's on its way.

He then lightly taps Vince on the elbow. The taller man, not missing a beat, says, "Well yes but that's racist, that is. You can't call elves beast-men anymore. It's rude, and where would we be as a society if we just allowed our rudeness to run rampant?"

As the shorter man shrugs and sits down, it becomes clear that except for the differences in clothes and the aforementioned tragic haircut, the two of them look practically identical, with slick black hair, a sharply hooked nose, and cheekbones you could cut someone with. Clement might be slightly shorter and have a slightly slighter frame, but that's a rather minuscule difference.
Uh, nah, that goes alright here. I don't know whether the bartender can serve everything I want, so I bringing my own. Beides, I don't want to risk getting poisoned, Argenzu says. Jácovu is still totally fascinated by the Dainefolk: Argenzu, you're making footage out of this? I want a copy, maybe I'm going to do something with it.
Argenzu nods.

Vince, Argenzu says, your brother's right, you can't call anyone "beastman", mich less elves.
Upon hearing the word "elf", Jácove turns around briefly and smiles.
I have to say, Argenzu's right. Elves think of themselves as highly intelligent, so demeaning them is just unfortunate.

We're Rodentèrrans, and we know what we say: Beside us Verromani, there's three other rather intelligent species, so racism plays on a wholly different level.
Languages of Rodentèrra: Buonavallese, Saselvan Argemontese; Wīlandisċ Taulkeisch; More on the road.
Conlang embryo of TELES: Proto-Avesto-Umbric ~> Proto-Umbric
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

Post by Firebird766 »

Egerius wrote:Uh, nah, that goes alright here. I don't know whether the bartender can serve everything I want, so I bringing my own. Beides, I don't want to risk getting poisoned, Argenzu says. Jácovu is still totally fascinated by the Dainefolk: Argenzu, you're making footage out of this? I want a copy, maybe I'm going to do something with it.
Argenzu nods.

Vince, Argenzu says, your brother's right, you can't call anyone "beastman", mich less elves.
Upon hearing the word "elf", Jácove turns around briefly and smiles.
I have to say, Argenzu's right. Elves think of themselves as highly intelligent, so demeaning them is just unfortunate.

We're Rodentèrrans, and we know what we say: Beside us Verromani, there's three other rather intelligent species, so racism plays on a wholly different level.
((It was actually Vince telling off Clement, not the other way around, since Clement doesn't normally speak. He can, but he doesn't because of professional image reasons.))

"Bah, don't worry about it," Vince says, waving his hand. "One of our friends has a list the length of my arm of things he can't have, though admittedly all elves do, so I know how to play it safe. I ordered the two of you some soda water. Should be arriving any moment now." Just not yet, apparently. Eh, he wasn't in any big hurry.

Never let it be said that Vince shied away from a good old discussion about alternate-universe race politics. Or, depending on the specifics, bad old fashioned race politics. "I know that and you know that, but there are plenty of would-be wits on the internet who don't know that. Course there's also plenty of would-be wits on the internet that call humans "prey" like they're some tryhard action movie merc."

Clement lets out his first sound of the night, a very audible snort. "Yeah, tell me about it," answers Vince. "You never see the ones from Kary or Chuari or one of the other elf-majority countries do that. They don't have something to prove. I mean yeah yeah whatever we get it you're a carnivore. But you can't have chocolate so how's that working out for you? Anyway." Vince leans forward suddenly, resting his arms on the table. "How's it work with- you said you have four sapients where you live? That's gotta be chaotic. I'm guessing two of them are human and elf, since you don't seem to find anything unusual about me and brother dear. What's the last?"
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

Post by Sḿtuval »

I guess I'll try again with a different character. I'm not sure in which direction I want to go yet, so I'll just start with a regrettably vague introduction and let the questions guide me.

A man walks in and immediately notices the strange appearance of the others. He has a sword with him and is wearing simple dull clothing.

"What the- Is this another illusion?"

He walks up to someone and pokes them.

"Guess not..."

"But where am I? Why does everyone look so odd?"
I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

Post by Egerius »

Spoiler:
Firebird766 wrote:((It was actually Vince telling off Clement, not the other way around, since Clement doesn't normally speak. He can, but he doesn't because of professional image reasons.))

"Bah, don't worry about it," Vince says, waving his hand. "One of our friends has a list the length of my arm of things he can't have, though admittedly all elves do, so I know how to play it safe. I ordered the two of you some soda water. Should be arriving any moment now." Just not yet, apparently. Eh, he wasn't in any big hurry.

Never let it be said that Vince shied away from a good old discussion about alternate-universe race politics. Or, depending on the specifics, bad old fashioned race politics. "I know that and you know that, but there are plenty of would-be wits on the internet who don't know that. Course there's also plenty of would-be wits on the internet that call humans "prey" like they're some tryhard action movie merc."

Clement lets out his first sound of the night, a very audible snort. "Yeah, tell me about it," answers Vince. "You never see the ones from Kary or Chuari or one of the other elf-majority countries do that. They don't have something to prove. I mean yeah yeah whatever we get it you're a carnivore. But you can't have chocolate so how's that working out for you? Anyway." Vince leans forward suddenly, resting his arms on the table. "How's it work with- you said you have four sapients where you live? That's gotta be chaotic. I'm guessing two of them are human and elf, since you don't seem to find anything unusual about me and brother dear. What's the last?"
I said "no", Argenzu says, slightly upset, then he puts his apple juice back into his backpack. Whatever, could you tell me about that list?
We've got our own things we just cannot eat: Meat, citrus fruits (whole ones in greater quantities, but some flavouring is alright), too much sugar...
Then Jácove entets the discussion: Yeah, except some do eat meat on special occasions, so they're stealing off the dog's food... Even though we're herbivore!

Then the word "human" comes along...
Humans aren't prey, they are... were predators themselves on Tèrra. And, apperently, you still are, Jácove says.
I just wonder whether you're from Tèrra or not.

Argenzu answers: No, they can't be. Tèrra didn't have elves, so they must be either from somewhere else in the future or from a parallel universe.

Dude, Jácove says astonished, you sure travelled here a lot. You sound like The Doctor.

Argenzu smiles. Then the species question comes ans both Rodentèrrans laugh.
No, you're wrong, says one, we've got us, the Verromani, says the other, then the Canes, or dogs, says Argenzu again, then the Aves, or birds, says Jácove, and last, the Felines, or cats, says Argenzu: And only we have human-equivalent intelligence. The dogs come in second, then the cats, last are the birds, with the wit of a six year-old.

Oh, and the humans left us their tech, their internet history and a lot of languages and data. So we're not that easy to surprise.

Then somebody else walks into this in, somewhat disoriented, as it seems...
Sḿtuval wrote:A man walks in and immediately notices the strange appearance of the others. He has a sword with him and is wearing simple dull clothing.

"What the- Is this another illusion?"

He walks up to someone and pokes them.

"Guess not..."

"But where am I? Why does everyone look so odd?"
Jácove leans over to Argenzu: Now if people are coming in dressed all medieval, I guess we can just as well wear our uniforms again, don't you think?
And a moment later, both Rodentèrrans have put on their Earnowe cloaks.
Argenzu giggles as he sees Nico being poked.

This is an inn, Jácove says, where civilisations meet. Poking strangers doesn't improve relations, though.
By the way, who are you? I'm Jácove, from Grezognja. And that's my friend, Argenzu, also from Grezognja.
Languages of Rodentèrra: Buonavallese, Saselvan Argemontese; Wīlandisċ Taulkeisch; More on the road.
Conlang embryo of TELES: Proto-Avesto-Umbric ~> Proto-Umbric
New blog: http://argentiusbonavalensis.tumblr.com
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

Post by elemtilas »

Firebird766 wrote:
elemtilas wrote:"Hih! It seems to me your rulers are busy little bees! Our Greatqueen and her councillors certainly meet to talk about what needs discussing, but I gather they make time for their other duties within the queenhold. I wonder though: how can you keep a councilor at duty when once your folk have discovered that he is incompetent for the task?"
Risatri seems concerned about the suggestion. It's nothing obvious -she's long since learned to mask negative emotions under a veneer of professionalism- but there's a slight crinkle to her eyebrows, a tendency for her eyes not to stay on one thing. "It's no good habit, to start removing leaders from power on a whim," she says after a moment. "The first time, yes, would be replacing an incompetent Councilor. But then what? Perhaps, having set precedent, next time we replace someone for merely being not quite as clever as the rest of the Council. And then, for making a decision that is unpopular, but necessary. Eventually we would end up like Nitch, replacing a leader every year for not being well-spoken or handsome, or for just existing when something unfortunate happens. The only presidents of theirs that last are the ones that are pure charisma and nothing else, leaving intelligence, common-sense, and benevolence by the wayside."


Enca's eyes immediately focus on Risatri's own, trying to read what is passing over her face. She is quick to notice the subtle change in Risatri's face, though she's not entirely certain what it means or what she's said to bring about this ... odd defensiveness? "Umm. I wonder if I have made you unnecessarily unsettled about something? Only, your face has changed, and I hope I haven't upset you!"

"Of course, I am not suggesting a councilor be removed for no good reason. But is not this one incompetent to the task? Does he not know this about himself? That is why I asked about seeking for another. If one of our queen's councilors thought herself unable to fulfill the task, she would surely step aside and urge folks to consider another! Or if not, then our queen must see to it that a competent councilor is chosen!"

"Anyway, I would imagine that, after the incompetent councilor steps down and is replaced, well, then that will be settled for the better! Councilors must at times make decisions that are for the best of all involved. Why should such decisions, then, be unpopular? Surely all the people of a queendom desire what is best for all the people?"

"It sounds to me like the queens of Niish are useless and their whole system of government incompetent. How can people be satisfied to live in such a way?"

"Councilor Taradaremi's incompetence is harmless. There are eight other Councilors to make up for him, and his assistant does quite well on her own merit. To be honest, it's a popular rumor that she was deliberately planted there to keep him under control. I suspect by Councilor Ixesremi of Culture. She's exactly the sort of no-nonsense woman who would do something like that." Gossip about the Councilors? A-ok. Just don't talk about trying to get rid of one, or anything else that could possibly be interpreted as inciting rebellion.
"Hm. I am reminded that the weakest braid of a rope will cause the tearing of the rope. I hope the others are strong indeed! Though I still think it were better to get a new rope!"
Risatri sits up and listens intently. When Enca brings up her and Nico's most recent molt, she reaches into a pocket on the side of her dress and retrieves a small codex. Unlike the books of modern Earth, the pages fold like an accordion instead of being nestled within each other. A brush wrapped in oiled cloth is retrieved from the same pocket, and a vial is plucked from inside the wooden case. Once opened, it apparently contains a deep red ink.
(OOC: Cool! I like that kind of book. Ages ago, I made a small book in that format. It's not as common as other formats in the Eastlands, but it's certainly not unknown. Even Enca has seen books in this format!)

"That is a beautiful sketch book you have, Risatri! We call that kind of book <b>ameggavehereth</b> because it seems to flow like a river's waters. Nico's books are all <b>benthendi</b>, just folded papers tied up in a leather cover. He finds they make it easier to get a paper out for drawing. Between us girls, I find them terribly untidy! I do not understand how he can ever find anything in that mess of papers and string and assorted leaves and bits of this and that that have accumulated in his books! Oh, and I see you screeve your runes with a brush too! We have one kind of writing that uses a kind of wooden stylus, but I rather prefer the delicate brush strokes of the other kind."
She starts scribbling fiercely, making notes in a fast, simple shorthand that all too quickly turns into chaos as she simultaneously tries to write down what Enca says and sketch out what her wing looks like. More than a little bit of ink splatters in a particularly inconvenient way and has to be worked around. The same thing happens when Enca brings out the two different kinds of combs, and yet again when she demonstrates 'punching' with the joint of the wing. The sketch for the last one has a theoretical depiction of what those spikes might look like.
"Actually, Risatri," she says, peering with interest as the healer scribbles and screeves in her sketch book; "the spikes are often, but not always, made in the shape of a bear's fangs." She puts her two left fingers together, slightly curved, then explains: "Those teeth are almost as long as my fingers plus the side of my hand." She draws her right finger from the tip of the left back towards the joint with the thumb. "They're fixed into a wood frame with bronze rods of some kind and the frame is attached to the thick leather of the armour."
Look this is fascinating stuff okay? It totally makes sense that Risatri would get a little overenthusiastic about getting everything recorded and try to do too much at once.
(Works for me!)
There's probably something she can say here that is professional and calm, yet also gets across just how much she's interested in hearing more. Unfortunately, "How strong are your wings? Can you lift things with them? Can I touch them?" are all just more questions. And the last one is probably a little creepy, too.
(Actually, if she asked, I think at this point Enca would be comfortable enough with Risatri to let her. That's saying a lot! Most Daine are pretty naturally suspicious of Men, and at home, with pretty good reason. I'd say that Risatri's demeanour and 'bedside manner' are top notch. Netza would do well to learn that much from her at least! Daine are in no way averse to physical contact. But they are sensitive enough to not push Men on such matters... Best policy is to let the Man (or Rodent, as the case may be) lead and try your best to refrain from assuming they will respond as a Daine would!)
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

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Egerius wrote:Then somebody else walks into this in, somewhat disoriented, as it seems...
Sḿtuval wrote:A man walks in and immediately notices the strange appearance of the others. He has a sword with him and is wearing simple dull clothing.

"What the- Is this another illusion?"

He walks up to someone and pokes them.

"Guess not..."

"But where am I? Why does everyone look so odd?"
Jácove leans over to Argenzu: Now if people are coming in dressed all medieval, I guess we can just as well wear our uniforms again, don't you think?
And a moment later, both Rodentèrrans have put on their Earnowe cloaks.
Argenzu giggles as he sees Nico being poked.

This is an inn, Jácove says, where civilisations meet. Poking strangers doesn't improve relations, though.
By the way, who are you? I'm Jácove, from Grezognja. And that's my friend, Argenzu, also from Grezognja.
"Huy!!" Nico turns his attention from the strange Men with the odd manner who seem to be trying to sell something to Argenzu and Yáqove; he half rises as the strange bumbler pokes him (needlessly hard --- indeed I am no illusion!). His wings unfold and the wing-wrists lower slightly. They really make him look much bigger than he already is! His left hand instinctively moves towards where his bronze bladed knife is again safely tucked into its place at his back, at the ready should this turn ugly. His right hand absently rubs at the spot where the Man poked him. It's then he notices the sword the newcomer has at his side. Smells like iron. Like blood. His eyes dart from the odd Men accosting the Rodentfolk back to this fellow, not sure which is more dangerous! He does edge slightly to the left, the better to keep himself between the sword and his Enca! His bright ice-blue eyes focus intently on the eyes of the Man before him. "What do you want, swordman or vagabond or ruffian, or whatever you might be? Is that how your folk greet each other, by jabbing them in the chest?"

Nico pauses a moment before going on: "And anyway, who are you to say we look odd! I'd say you look as odd as anyone else here!"
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

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(to Nico) "I can see I've made yet another 'great' first impression. Sorry about that."
(points to sword*) "I don't use this as much as you might think, so there's no need to pull out that knife you're hiding there."

(looks at Argenzu and Jácove) "I've never heard of Grezognja, but something about your appearance tells me it's nowhere near Sangesia." (under breath) "Or even in the same world..."

"I'm usually reluctant to tell random people my name but I doubt I'll ever see you again so... my name's Tangsu." (sits down) "I'm from Sangesia, as you might've guessed. I work for the Pim Trading Company doing all sorts of stuff. I travel a lot, and I was with an exploration team far from home when a thick fog rolled in. I heard screaming and there were illusions and voices everywhere. I can't remember much of what happened after that but I somehow ended up here. Then I saw you three and thought I had gone insane, so I had to check."

*I forgot to add that it's not a medieval-type sword (whatever that means), it's more like a rapier.
I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

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Sḿtuval wrote:(to Nico) "I can see I've made yet another 'great' first impression. Sorry about that."
(points to sword*) "I don't use this as much as you might think, so there's no need to pull out that knife you're hiding there."
Nico relaxes slightly. Apparently this fellow is not quite so boorish as he first appeared. Still... "Well, alright then!"
(looks at Argenzu and Jácove) "I've never heard of Grezognja, but something about your appearance tells me it's nowhere near Sangesia." (under breath) "Or even in the same world..."

"I'm usually reluctant to tell random people my name but I doubt I'll ever see you again so... my name's Tangsu." (sits down) "I'm from Sangesia, as you might've guessed. I work for the Pim Trading Company doing all sorts of stuff. I travel a lot, and I was with an exploration team far from home when a thick fog rolled in. I heard screaming and there were illusions and voices everywhere. I can't remember much of what happened after that but I somehow ended up here. Then I saw you three and thought I had gone insane, so I had to check."

*I forgot to add that it's not a medieval-type sword (whatever that means), it's more like a rapier.
(I guess something like these.)

Nico sits down again, satisfied that Tang Su meant no harm. "There was no fog in here, so perhaps you came through a Gate from your country to this place? I think that's what happened to us. Argenzu seems to come and go through that garden shed outside this place. I'm sure Enca and me came through a Gate, too. But I've never heard of Sangesya before. Must be far away!"

"So, umm. Your sword. Is it iron? Smells like iron, anyway. I guess, if you're with traders, you must then be a caravan guard?"
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

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Spoiler:
Egerius wrote:I said "no", Argenzu says, slightly upset, then he puts his apple juice back into his backpack. Whatever, could you tell me about that list?
We've got our own things we just cannot eat: Meat, citrus fruits (whole ones in greater quantities, but some flavouring is alright), too much sugar...
Then Jácove entets the discussion: Yeah, except some do eat meat on special occasions, so they're stealing off the dog's food... Even though we're herbivore!

Then the word "human" comes along...
Humans aren't prey, they are... were predators themselves on Tèrra. And, apperently, you still are, Jácove says.
I just wonder whether you're from Tèrra or not.
...
Argenzu smiles. Then the species question comes ans both Rodentèrrans laugh.
No, you're wrong, says one, we've got us, the Verromani, says the other, then the Canes, or dogs, says Argenzu again, then the Aves, or birds, says Jácove, and last, the Felines, or cats, says Argenzu: And only we have human-equivalent intelligence. The dogs come in second, then the cats, last are the birds, with the wit of a six year-old.

Oh, and the humans left us their tech, their internet history and a lot of languages and data. So we're not that easy to surprise.
Huh, that's interesting. "So they're what, uplifts? Like in some sci-fi flick? If they're actual dogs and birds and whatnot then they have to be. Elves aren't like that. They're as much a history of Kadam as humans are. One of the mostly-elven religions even teaches that humans were once elves, until an ancestral enemy of said religion attacked some folk and ripped off their claws and tail."

"Elves are..."
Vince makes a frustrated sound and rubs his shoulder. "Look. I'm no scientist, so I don't have no fancy words for it. You know how some carnivores like dogs actually eat a lot of other stuff if they get a chance? Elves don't. They only eat meat, maybe a little fruit as well for the sugar. Vegetables and grains go right through them. Some stuff, though, like onion, garlic, grapes? That'll kill them dead. They also have so many issues with medicine -like, aspirin will make them bleed out through their stomach, issues-, they can't hold their alcohol, and they're sensitive to caffeine. I think they're technically not supposed to have any caffeine at all, but just you try taking Sanis' coffee from him."

Clement coughs.

"Yeah and you regretted it, didn't you? Actually, c'mere and show 'em your scar." As Clement steps forward and rolls up his sleeve, revealing a series of slash scars on his forearm, Vince continues talking. "Sanis used to be a street kid, and they have one hell of a startle reflex. Clement was just gonna steal a sip, but he didn't give any warning so Sanis didn't realize in time it was just us. Ripped his arm right open. 'Course, half of the damage was because he sharpens his claws. Most elves don't do that, but he apparently had reason back in the day and never broke the habit."

"He was very sorry afterward, for what it's worth."
[And then a new player arrives]
"Whoa there. What's with the LARPer garb?" Vince asks, turning sideways in his seat to watch Tangsu carefully. Look, the ratmen were clearly recognizable as students, which is normal stuff. But he and Clement both thought that LARPers were just weird.
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

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Firebird766 wrote:Look this is fascinating stuff okay? It totally makes sense that Risatri would get a little overenthusiastic about getting everything recorded and try to do too much at once.

There's probably something she can say here that is professional and calm, yet also gets across just how much she's interested in hearing more. Unfortunately, "How strong are your wings? Can you lift things with them? Can I touch them?" are all just more questions. And the last one is probably a little creepy, too.
Enca thinks for a moment about these questions of strength --- wings aren't really made for lifting things, after all! "Well, I don't think our wings are really terribly strong, and it would be very difficult to lift things with them. I can probably lift up a small child without too much trouble, and if she's able to hold on to my wing-arm! No Daine can grip anything with their wing-hands after all! Certainly a boy's wings are stronger. Even when we were little, Nico would just make my heart stop in my chest whenever he'd leap off some high place and break his fall by spreading his wings. Now that we're bigger, it terrifies me when he does stupid things like that! And, oh! It wasn't so long ago we were up flying and I turned my head and caught that rascal leaping off the side of our airship only to spread his wings and glide along behind, hanging on to a rope tied to the frames of our ship! Risatri I can tell you, I almost strangled him when we got back home! And of course, he and his crazy brothers were cheering and laughing and thumping each others' chests, crowing with I have no idea what it is going through a boy's brain when he does things like that!" Enca's momentary scowl of supreme sororal disapproval quickly fades when Risatri asks about touching her wings. Many thoughts rush through her mind, but this most unusual and sensitive girl of Mankind has already won not a little of Enca's confidence. She smiles openly at the eagerness she has to learn more about others:

"Umm, yeah, you can touch them! I am sorry they haven't been properly preened in some days. Unlike Nico, I don't much like going about with my wings in such disarray as you see them. I assure you, I'm not suffering from any kind of feather related malady apart from the lack of a good sit-down for some comb work!" She shifts her position in her chair and extends her wing over towards Risatri so she can examine the feathers and how her wing moves.

Suddenly, she looks up and into Risatri's eyes, wondering... "It is a terrible shame that Men lost their wings, so long ago. I know many folks blame Men and their Winglessness for all the ills of the world, but I don't. Even we Daine and Teyor can make terrible mistakes. But I guess it's true that Men are simply prone to that kind of thing by their nature."

"We have long looked for the time when Men would be returned to their estate among the Winged. Our hopes came to little enough some while ago when a True Man came to walk the earth of Gea again. I'll never understand why Men couldn't see him for what he was and that more didn't follow after him. I suppose it was also to our shame that we tarried while he was here and did too little to bring more of the Younger Kindred to his cause."

"If you have children of your own, I can only hope that they will learn from you and grow in wisdom and grace! Perhaps, in time, Men will again take their rightful place among the Winged..."
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

Post by Sḿtuval »

(Looks like I used the wrong word. I could've sworn the rapier was something else. [:S] How I confused it with this is beyond me.)
elemtilas wrote:"So, umm. Your sword. Is it iron? Smells like iron, anyway. I guess, if you're with traders, you must then be a caravan guard?"
"You can smell it? It's some kind of steel, so you're close. But no, I'm not necessarily a guard. I make sure shipments get where they need to be. Sure, sometimes I'm practically a guard, but I often plan and negotiate with other traders and deal with the local police if necessary. A couple times I joined a small group of explorers to survey the area near a foreign port in the hopes of finding locals we could profit from or just finding exploitable resources. In fact, I was doing the same thing earlier before all the craziness happened..."
(Pauses.)
"There've been a few moments before in my life in which I've seen magic. What I saw was undoubtedly magic. I just hope it doesn't reach the port or I'll be out of a job."
(Stares into the wall blankly for a moment, then looks at the others and smiles a little.)

"So what do you people do for fun?"
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

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Firebird766 wrote:Huh, that's interesting. "So they're what, uplifts? Like in some sci-fi flick? [...]"

"Elves are..."
Vince makes a frustrated sound and rubs his shoulder. "Look. I'm no scientist, so I don't have no fancy words for it. You know how some carnivores like dogs actually eat a lot of other stuff if they get a chance? Elves don't. They only eat meat, maybe a little fruit as well for the sugar. Vegetables and grains go right through them. Some stuff, though, like onion, garlic, grapes? That'll kill them dead. They also have so many issues with medicine -like, aspirin will make them bleed out through their stomach, issues-, they can't hold their alcohol, and they're sensitive to caffeine. I think they're technically not supposed to have any caffeine at all, but just you try taking Sanis' coffee from him."
It's probably best to accept the other species' limitations. You go vegetarian, they have their meat. That's how we avoided tension over food, mostly – and blowing guts.
"Yeah and you regretted it, didn't you? Actually, c'mere and show 'em your scar." As Clement steps forward and rolls up his sleeve, revealing a series of slash scars on his forearm, Vince continues talking.
Uh, yeah, that's too much graphic info. Neither Argenzu nor Jácove show a very positive expression on their faces, to say the least.
"Whoa there. What's with the LARPer garb?" Vince asks, turning sideways in his seat to watch Tangsu carefully. Look, the ratmen were clearly recognizable as students, which is normal stuff. But he and Clement both thought that LARPers were just weird.
Jácove is slightly upset: What's so bad about LARPing? That guy's clothing doesn't smell like the typical LARP gear, either, so I think that's authentic. I mean, I smell blood, real blood.
If you want a LARPer's grab, this is one!
Jácove is pointing at his uniform. Argenzu just nods, then he says: Yup, it's plastic and cotton. But it's comfortable and this place just fits it.

The spoiled contents be ignored.
Spoiler:
Argenzu also vents his displeasure over the term ‘ratmen’: It's *Verromanu! Chinchillas and rats, though both rodents, have about as much in common as a bonobo and a human — and for us, this goes fourfold!
Jácove nods now. He's right. With some things, you have to be exact.
He gets up, turns around slowly and explains: Rats have a different tail, one of the fleshy, naked kind. We have one covered with fur, rather stiff, then he sits down again.
Sḿtuval wrote:"There've been a few moments before in my life in which I've seen magic. What I saw was undoubtedly magic. I just hope it doesn't reach the port or I'll be out of a job."
(Stares into the wall blankly for a moment, then looks at the others and smiles a little.)

"So what do you people do for fun?"
Argenzu giggles as he hears the word ‘magic’ – he's clothed in one of the robes that are described in his favourite fantasy novel series, after all, where magic plays an important role.
Then he gets out a long, rectangular box, which has been lying inside his backpack all the time.
The box is made out of cardboard and it is painted in a dark blue on the visible sides.

Jácove turns around:
Don't tell me you brought yours with you?
Argenzu moves his eyebrows up and down, barely visible.
He's doing something on his computer, pushes everything else aside and shows the medievally clothed newcomer the game Simtropolis (= Sim City)

That's what we're doing in Rodentèrra, at least one of the things. Computer games.

Jácove reaches into his backpack and pulls out a book: Or we read, or listen to music... all sorts of things. Even dressing up in funny costumes and pretending to be someone else.
Both laugh.
* Or Verromani, if you need the nominative plural
Last edited by Egerius on 10 Dec 2016 16:42, edited 3 times in total.
Languages of Rodentèrra: Buonavallese, Saselvan Argemontese; Wīlandisċ Taulkeisch; More on the road.
Conlang embryo of TELES: Proto-Avesto-Umbric ~> Proto-Umbric
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

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A four-armed, blue-skinned, and notably voluptuous female elvenoid enters the inn. She scans the room with vibrant amethyst eyes, absentmindedly running a hand through her intricately braided ankle-length dark teal hair. She removes a curved longsword, and a knife with similar furniture, from the ribbonlike sash of her purple and white wildflower-patterned robes, and places them on the floor near the entrance. She bows her head to those present, pressing her upper left fist to her chest at the same time. After that, she begins to sing at length — like an alien bird of paradise — but stops a few moments later after realizing that she is the only one of her kind here present. The strange elf then chooses to introduce herself telepathically.

«Good afternoon. It is a great pleasure to be able to be here with, and eventually meet you all. My name is Isarmei Kikāda.» One receiving her telepathic missive would get the sense that she has given her surname first. «I am from the town of Isarme, near Eňasa in the Queendom of Syvreiš, the homeland of my people and the premiere member of the Safirian Empire.» She bows again, then takes a seat near the other patrons.
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

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Carl Miller wrote:A four-armed, blue-skinned, and notably voluptuous female elvenoid enters the inn. She scans the room with vibrant amethyst eyes, absentmindedly running a hand through her intricately braided ankle-length dark teal hair. She removes a curved longsword, and a knife with similar furniture, from the ribbonlike sash of her purple and white wildflower-patterned robes, and places them on the floor near the entrance. She bows her head to those present, pressing her upper left fist to her chest at the same time. After that, she begins to sing at length — like an alien bird of paradise — but stops a few moments later after realizing that she is the only one of her kind here present. The strange elf then chooses to introduce herself telepathically.

«Good afternoon. It is a great pleasure to be able to be here with, and eventually meet you all. My name is Isarmei Kikāda.» One receiving her telepathic missive would get the sense that she has given her surname first. «I am from the town of Isarme, near Eňasa in the Queendom of Syvreiš, the homeland of my people and the premiere member of the Safirian Empire.» She bows again, then takes a seat near the other patrons.
Nico turns towards the newest of the newcomers as she begins some kind of distressingly high-pitched warbling --- people's voices shouldn't be that high in pitch! His eyes widen as steps forward into the room. Then she bows and places her hand, well, one of her left hands! on her chest. That must be a greeting. And then she just stands there in silence before sitting across from him. She hasn't said anything...

"Umm..." Nico stands and bows towards the curious blue girl, turning up the tips of his wings most gracefully. He places his own left hand on his chest. "I hope that's a greeting among your folk! I am Nico. This is Enca, my dearest sister. We're from the Queendom of Westmarche. Um. What's your name and what kind of person are you? You certainly don't look like any kind of Daine or Man or Ogre or Fairy or anything else I've ever seen before!"
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Re: The Multiverse Inn

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elemtilas wrote:Nico turns towards the newest of the newcomers as she begins some kind of distressingly high-pitched warbling --- people's voices shouldn't be that high in pitch! His eyes widen as steps forward into the room. Then she bows and places her hand, well, one of her left hands! on her chest. That must be a greeting. And then she just stands there in silence before sitting across from him. She hasn't said anything...

"Umm..." Nico stands and bows towards the curious blue girl, turning up the tips of his wings most gracefully. He places his own left hand on his chest. "I hope that's a greeting among your folk! I am Nico. This is Enca, my dearest sister. We're from the Queendom of Westmarche. Um. What's your name and what kind of person are you? You certainly don't look like any kind of Daine or Man or Ogre or Fairy or anything else I've ever seen before!"
The safir's song wasn't necessarily high-pitched, merely similar to that of a bird of paradise.

«I am a safir, from the world known as Daia. Again, my name is Isarmei Kikāda.» Again, that's surname first, one would sense.
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