Thread: [CLOSED] Pulp Inc. Presents: Thrilling Tales of the New Continent! [Deante & Lasciel]

It's a hot, sweaty mess. Siona replied to Omani in a grumble as they walked. She would miss it's beautiful snow-white shades, but not it's luxuriant density, when her body caught up with the climate and changed her coat to something thinner. For the n th time today she wished she'd listened to the recruiter's advice that she preemptively treat herself with heat and light in the evenings to trick her body into thinking it was summer. Her dense, winter coat was more resistant to water, true, but she'd been warned that if she fell overboard and wasn't immediately rescued that the insulating properties of her fur would make little difference in her fate. It had been a chilling thought, but one that had seemed so unlikely... Siona noted the not-quite-symmetry in names between the chief and the cleric, similar to the way Omani and Romandi's names resembled one another. She wondered if the effect was intentional, or the byproduct of a small set of common names with mutations applied over generations resulting in families-of-names with similar sounds. Omani hadn't seemed like any sort of caster, not with how stunned she'd seemed at Siona's use of magic. Perhaps they the similarity then meant siblings? She filed the thought away for another time, as it was hardly her area of expertise and not apparently useful to her mission anyway. Razel's expression made clear her discomfort at sitting it left her vulnerable to attack and robbed her of her advantage of height over the diminutive jungle cats. But spoiling the mission because of her own proper concern over her ability to do her job would likely get her chewed out by Tasa, an outcome the mink hardly relished. She compromised by sitting down into a deep squat, a contrast with the cross-legged or legs-in-front positions the others seemed to assume. It was a pose she could easily stand or spring up from if something happened, and prevented her sheathed battle-axe or knives from getting tangled in limbs or caught on clothing. Though the cats seemed unlikely to jump them, the way some of them had eyed her scars made her uncomfortable. Siona, less cautious than Razel or perhaps simply trusting in the mink to defend her if push came to shove, took a cross-legged position with her tail pulled around and into her lap. Atop, she placed her spellbook, retrieving a sliver of charcoal from her pocket and unwrapping it from it's covering to take notes as they spoke. The deal that Dorandi suggested seemed amenable enough, and she nodded. As they talked, she jotted down words or facts of importance, in an elegant looping hand that would've been at-home in a formal manuscript or academic text. She'd lost her inks and, more regrettably, her watercolors in the shipwreck, but given that her spellbook was hardly her notes' final resting place she could put up with the boring, gray-and-tan pages for now. Words or phrases like crocatta or traveled on the rain were added, then circled, as Parani spoke. She stiffened at the mention of war. Of course, Siona knew it would eventually come up... But she had been hoping perhaps naively that the subject would be broached at some later meeting, when someone more adept at diplomacy could handle the sensitive issue. She didn't miss Dorandi's careful phrasing, but even if he absolved her personally of blame, she could still mangle relationships between the jungle cats and her own people for a long time, if not permanently. Alas, such was the hand she had been dealt, and it would have been rude and telling to not reply. There was a pause, though, as she nervously fingered the fine fur at the tip of her tail in thought. I do not personally know, but I hope not. The Ulchark Empire seeks to establish some new settlement here, and I expect our Empress will eventually want to bring all the lands here into her country. I suspect it would go much as it went for my great-great grandparents, when the Rintel Wastes were claimed for Ulchark. Here, Siona shrugged. My ancestors lived as a collection of loosely-aligned clans, in a part of the world where... She had been about to explain that it was always snowing, but realized the concept may not translate. ...where few people wanted to live. But Ulchark discovered that there were valuable minerals, and wanted to claim the land as it was adjacent to them anyway. They sent emissaries, and offered each of a clans a choice to join on their own terms, or to join on the Empress'. My ancestors chose the former, and if they hadn't I would never have been able to go to school, or learn the magics I wield, or visit lands as distant as this one. Other clans resisted, and their leaders were... Deposed. She shrugged again, though far less easily. That she had learned nearly nothing of her ancestral culture, not even learning the sounds of their language until she'd been courted by a linguist who studied the Rintel peoples when she was studying at University. She had snubbed him once she'd realized his interest in her was little more than a fetish borne from his studies. At the suggestion of food, Siona's stomach rumbled. Their breakfast was easily her late lunch and the dining options at her own camp had hardly been inspiring or plentiful besides. Gratefully, she accepted the invitation to join and consumed what she was served with gusto. The protein content wasn't quite what her biology would've preferred, but it was far more flavorful and varied in taste and texture than either hardtack or the few fish her colleagues had been effectively been able to catch. The overpowering sweetness between the varied ingredients was almost enough to make her teeth hurt, and Siona wondered if the jungle cats here had as underdeveloped an ability to taste sweet as their presumed cousins on the Continent. Razel took food when offered, but paused in eating to see how their biologist reacted. Except for a brief pause after a bite of the jelly, though, the fox seemed to suffer no ill outcomes. Considering it good enough for her, and feeling even hungrier than Siona weighing nearly twice as much, all of it muscle!, she devoured her own serving with impunity. Like Siona, she found it exceptionally sweet, but unlike the fox she relished the additional calories the taste signaled. Perhaps that was why all these damned cats seemed to leap and spring all over the place as they moved? Were they all on a constant sugar-high? Of course, Razel kept her musings to herself. They returned to their pattern of question-to-question, spending some time discussing trade and what goods the camp could offer. Siona clarified that while her people, referring to the Ulchark Empire, had available to them a great variety of technologies, medicines, and magics, that what they'd brought with them to the camp was more limited. Weapons, too while Siona was unfamiliar with the specifics, she did paint a vague outline of the techno-magical war machines the countries of the Continent had used against each other in the past. Through this, especially on the last subject, Razel seemed to grow increasingly dour. Not only did Siona's explanations contain a few notable inaccuracies , but she was divulging valuable tactical knowledge to a potential future threat! Of course, had the mink voiced her concerns, it would've only encouraged the fox to explain more. Both women were adept at concealing their surprise and mild concern when Parani dismissed the chief, and Siona worried that she'd made some sort of horrible faux-pas when the priestess turned back to look at her. It seemed instead, however, that they had reached a subject either special to the spiritual leaders of the tribe, or a subject only discussed among women. Whatever the case, she nodded as Parani explained, or at least hinted at, a taboo. When the other woman drew a rough map, she flipped to a new set of pages in her book, reproducing the shape with her charcoal pencil and annotating as she received explanations of roughly who lived where. Points were made and labeled and notes were added as Parani warned her about the ways of other groups, who it sounded like were not nearly as friendly as the ocelots she presently spoke with. The word Watchers got added as well, off in one corner the priestess had said it with an air of importance that emphasized a capital W. Siona had no trouble or hesitation in teaching words to Parani and her apprentices, drawing the shapes of letters and explaining how each sound was made. She went over essential words, and also explained the litany of races that made up her camp wolves and minks and mice and otters and badgers and raccoons and even foxes such as herself. In the countryside, people stick a bit more with their own kind in enclaves, but in the cities, we're all mixed up. Siona added, explaining how so many different races could make up one nation. But there are also a lot more of us, I suspect there are as many arctic foxes in my home city as there are ocelots in your village. When the subject of food-production arose, she nodded eagerly and stood to follow. Razel sprung to her feet as well, happy to be moving again after so much sitting and talking. The village had children, and children had a habit of making loud noises at random intervals, each shriek or yelp leading to her muscles growing tighter and tighter until the mink was sure she was just one big ball of tension. And big was indeed the right term, as she found herself again towering over the locals when she unfolded her long, hard body to it's full height. As they moved she shook herself out, feeling properly limber by the time they reached the third vegetable or fruit? she didn't care about and paused for another explanation and note-taking session. When Cesarin returned, Razel prayed that meant it was time to leave. For a first contact mission, the day had been awfully boring, with nothing to fight and nothing to even do besides watch the tiny botanist learn about all the plants of the forest or so it seemed to her. But the raccoon seemed instead to want to discuss something, as she noted when she realized he was speaking in Ulcharkian, rather than whatever magic words Siona's spell would likely force her mouth to make. When Siona stepped out of earshot of the ocelots, Razel followed. The priestess mentioned something taboo, but I thought she just meant talking about the other races. Siona replied in Ulcharkian, carefully avoiding the use of Parani's name in case they were overheard. I'll see if I can learn more, I get the feeling that there's some subjects that are taboo for men here. She turned slightly, addressing her next question to Razel as well as Cesarin. Has anyone from the camp visited the original landing site? It would require either a boat journey, or two crossings of a river with a tendency to get uppity. When they finished she returned to Parani, making sure to shoo Cesarin off in case her suspicions about the subject of female-only subjects was correct. She let the other woman lead the conversation for a while, but when it came back to her turn for questions again, she pounced. Subtlety had never been her specialty, anyway. What was the taboo you mentioned? Perhaps I am not understanding, but it seems we danced around the subject. Siona inquired, with a friendly smile. Razel just barely managed to hold back from rolling her eyes. Last edited Feb 27, 2019