Kinzul’s commanding presence, and voice, startles me back to meatspace as she barks a request, “I would like at least half a dozen right handed volunteers to take our Tenith to our Sponge. Yes, please accompany her, acquaint yourselves with her when we disburse. For now, please enjoy yourselves. Meager as it may be, we feast.”
Right handed? That’s— oddly specific. Though, Teuila did ask to have her left hand looked at, and Sponge is an unusual Alias. Some sort of injury transference? My senses pick up an emotional undertone that indicates Kinzul makes note of my leaps in logic with approval, and I’m caught in surprise by the subtle acknowledgment, as well as the reminder of Kinzul’s everpresent intellect absorbing my inane stream of babble that runs through my cranium at all times. I’m glad I set the psychic network backbone up the way I did, so that Kinzul will be able to filter out individuals, or groups, at her leisure, especially once I’ve added more of the Order’s agents to that network.
I probably shouldn’t be surprised at the nature of the feast. Every single draconic entity here is being served blocks of raw mineral, sprinkled with precious metal shavings. Wait— was that not bread that I was eating with Nala? Hahaha, did I actually eat a bunch of rocks? Well, that would explain why it was so hard to chew, and easier to just teleport-swallow. I think they were at least partially peppered with powdered flour at least. They had a slightly bread-like salty taste.
I’ve got to work with Luni soon to set up her shop-stall from Can’Z’aas in a large dedicated cavern that the four of us can unload our Can’Z’aasian inventories into. We finally have a spot where we can unload everything to figure out what we have available. A fortified location that we will be able to return to, and call home until our battle for Rayileklia is complete. Still—.
I grimace as I recall how attempting to unload a large quantity of material from my inventory, simultaneously, knocked me senseless when I was delivering wood to Teodora and Spice. I can’t remember if I also spontaneously projectile-bled on them that time or not. I probably did. I did warn Kinzul that I would be bleeding a lot in her domain.
Gazing around, I can take guesses at several of the groups of gathered individuals. Those four metallic-skinned humans are likely the human forms of The Paradox Vivant, one of the groups within the Order of the Onyx Dawn that Nala made me aware of, without filling me in on. The man with bronze skin would be Orthral the Bronze. The androgynous, pixie-like copper-skinned waif would be Prinrin the Copper. Gilmeshtu the Gold would be the golden man with regal bearing that looks like the protagonist of so many films from Fakeworld cinema. Muscular, blonde-stubbled, firm jawline, handsome beyond all doubt, and so on. The one at the back of the group, a silver-skinned man with platinum hair, a man far more lithe and wispy than Gilmeshtu, would have to be Fenric the Silver. Unless of course the names were a red herring, and that just happens to be a group of friends who have nothing to do with The Paradox Vivant.
I’m pretty certain of my estimation of The Paradox Vivant though, because not far from them are the ones that I believe make up The Paradox Dormir. Maybe. One of the members of The Paradox Dormir doesn’t have a descriptive name, though the other three do, so I’m assuming the little quad where three match the descriptive names is that selfsame group. The woman in blue would likely be Farzhis the Blue, with her partner, Induul the Green whose arm she clings to. Induul’s smile exudes raw charm, it would almost be easy to forget that he’s a poison dragon. Veril the Red is an effeminate looking man whose red-and-white finery gives him a vaguely matador-esque appearance. If those three are who I expect they are, then the fourth member, hanging at the back, shy and in the shadows, would be Iylynila. She seems like little more than a silhouette, as if there were an absence of color about her. It seems she’s as perfectly midnight-toned as our Lady Kinzul. My eyes flick back towards Lil’s mother, taking in the majesty of her human form, and I blush for having made such a comparison.
Kinzul acknowledges my gaze, my admiration, and my assumptions, with affirmation. I gulp, blushing at the subtle praise. Tearing my gaze from her, I spy Miraina, our Pawn, flitting about, and I’m getting a sense that she’s more youthful than not, which makes me believe she’s a Draconiac, at her height of three foot nothing. She’s got that sort of jubilant energy of a child that has a task that they’re proud of, and take pride in, in which simple praise goes a long way towards making them exceedingly happy. I flash a smile her way as she waves excitedly at me. She’s friendly to the extreme, and I truly hope she makes it through the upcoming events unscathed.
That pair of golden twins over at the near left corner of the table, closest to us, must be Vylon and Vyela, Queens Rend and Sunderer respectively. Vylon, the male twin is in his human form that stands six foot seven. His head has a smooth, shaven appearance, his stature gives him a round’ish seeming build, that appears to be all muscle. Startlingly sky-blue eyes are set into his oval-shaped face. His sister, Vyela, is remarkably similar in appearance, nearly identical, save that her human form is more obviously female in nature. The two Queens are people that Nala informed me had combat prowess greater than even our Lady Kinzul, the eldest draconic being alive on the planet.
Hm, few of the others have titled names that make it easy to guess who they would be. I hadn’t gotten Nala to give me a rundown of the appearances of the names she’d given me yet. I think perhaps the pair over there might be Boetah and Shaylon, Guardians Shield and Aegis respectively. Shaylon is androgynous, slate-gray, and slender, with hair that appears more like chiseled marble atop their head, while Boetah, similarly gray-toned, has a rounded, Buddha-like appearance, and rather than hair, a craggy stone crown seems to virtually sprout from his head.
Lil’s telepathic avatar quips to me, “How’re you so good at guessing the names of people you’ve never met pal?”
Huh, that’s a good question. I technically named all the members of our family, the Shellcracker clan, so very long now. I even named my best buddy Lilagni, who obviously goes by Lil, because it’s short and cute. I mean, I’m only making logical guesses based on people that are more obviously divided into grouped segments, in their own small cliques. I’ve got very little information to go on, about the only two others I could possibly guess might be Revinth the Dark, and Gresog the Quick. Gresog I think would be that jumpy fellow over there, with the glossy eyes, and the bedraggled appearance, in a yellow silken shirt. He twitches or startles at virtually every noise that isn’t conversation, and even some conversational sounds like sudden laughter. Next to him is a lazy looking man with dark hair that hangs in spiky locks that looks so laid back by comparison, that it’s like night and day, so I’m guessing Revinth the Dark. His complexion, stature, and eyes all remind me of Japanese individuals from Fakeworld, but the way he leans his chair back, casually balancing it perfectly on its rear legs says something about him. I’m just not sure what.
Lil nods along with my additional assessment, confirming, “Yup, Gresog, ol’ Greggy is blind, so pretty jumpy, and, well, quick, which doesn’t help matters. His pal Revinth, like you guessed, is super cool, super casual, laid back about everything, it helps to mellow him out, he’s a lot worse off when he’s alone. You got everyone right so far though, but you’re saying you got no guesses for Aaront, Elshon, Prent, Burshis, Nietru, Geskae, Shrulniz, or Aktixas?”
My telepathic avatar chuckles while wearing half a frown and shaking its head. I respond, “Do they have any titles, anything for me to go on? I mean, I could almost maybe guess that that flamboyant Draconiac is Elshon, the handsome male Draconiac situated between two gorgeous ladies, who appears to be making out with a lady Draconiac instead of eating could be Prent, while the lady could be Nietru, or maybe Burshis, and I’d guess the other lady is the other one. But those are wild mass guesses with no basis at all.”
Lil’s telepathic avatar’s mouth hangs agape. I raise an eyebrow towards him, and Lil nods emphatically, to my surprise. Lil adds, “Yup! That’s Elshon, Prent, and um, right now he’s kissing Nietru, but you’ll probably see him kissing Burshis in a little while, they’ve got a thingy going on. Kinda like us, only there’s some jealousy and balancing stuff they gotta deal with.”
I reiterate. Huh. Whaddaya know? Still, Aaront, Geskae, Shrulniz, and Aktixas I couldn’t—. Okay, Aktixas could maybe be the Mesoamerican looking man with the macuahuitl, maybe, but that almost feels racist to guess. Shrulniz could then maybe be the grey, hooded, robed figure to his side that appears to be assessing everyone. That would make the pair over there Aaront and Geskae, but I’ve no idea who is who, unless Aaront is the male of the two, and Geskae happens to be a lady’s name, making her the one leaning her head on his.
Lil’s telepathic avatar whistles a low note of appreciation. My face contorts as I ask, “Are you serious? I guessed all of those names, out of the easily hundred to two hundred or more people gathered here? I picked out the most powerful and well-known ones, *accurately* amongst this massive crowd?”
Lil nods emphatically. Kinzul chuckles across our telepathic wavelength, so I pose a question to her, “Does me having a title within the Order somehow give me knowledge like that? Even though I had to ask Nala for the names?”
Kinzul’s telepathic response is, “No my Hero, that appears to be a talent all your own in the making.”
My telepathic avatar exhales through puffed cheeks and pursed lips, pshew. What the heck Reggie? Was maybe Lu feeding me the information? In response to my train of thought, and posed question, Luni’s telepathic avatar appears, shaking her head to the contrary. My physical body is quivering, vibrating from the combination of anxiety, the posture held kneeling with poise on the cushions, and the fact that my control over my internal elecrtrokinesis is waning with my lack of focus. I drop from thinkspace to try to calm myself, and better control the shaking of my muscles.
I mentally groan that I’ve got such a weakness that could be easy to capitalize on, if someone becomes aware of how my cored-out nerve tunnels work, and how I’m managing to control my body. Even still, that’s less of a weakness than my terminal distractability. I once distracted myself so much from the excitement of having figured out a way of sending myself high into the air for the first time, that I forgot to pay enough attention to stay airborne, and crashed through layers upon layers of attempts to break my fall before smashing facefirst into the ground. Like, if I were in battle, and happened to see, or think of, the smirking, slate-grey, hooded, silver-eyed beauty staring at me from across the—. Gulp. My breathing slows as the focus of my hearing narrows while the blood rushes to my head. It’s like hanging upside down for too long as I continue to stare at her dainty hands that bring a fork towards her mouth, bearing a small block of nutrients. As her lips part, and her tongue snags the vital minerals from the fork, I’m subconsciously smacking my lips, and swallowing repeatedly. Her oh-so-casual lean against a far wall, closer this time than the last time I noticed her, reveals more of her exquisite frame, and tight-fitting leathers, with her cloak thrown back, and hood pulled down. I—.
Someone please teach Teuila how to break off her Latent, or dispel it. Errissa is going to eventually be on the psychic network, and she’s going to hear this gibbering nonsense. At my train of thought, everyone on our current telepathic wavelength, Kinzul included, begins laughing.
Teuila teases, “So, you care what she thinks about the things that you think and say huh?”
Flustered, my telepathic avatar glares at Teuila's, even as I can’t tear my gaze from Errissa’s liquid-mercury eyes in meatspace. I can’t deny, that in my current state, yes, I worry what she would think of my constant enamored praise, which is all the more upsetting, and frustrating. I want to be able to say that I just want to have the inappropriate infatuation gone, before she learns of it, so that I—. I don’t know why. I want it to be some other reason than wanting her to not dislike my obsessed brain.
I grumble, “Damnit Te.”
Teuila pulls me aside into private thinkspace where she asks, “Are— are we okay to tease and joke about it Air? I’m sorry. I’m still sorry. I promise. I just, well, you know me, teasing’s—“
My telepathic avatar wraps Teuila’s up with my left arm as my right hand tilts her chin towards me. Our telepathic avatars lock eyes, nuzzle noses, and kiss softly, for a long while before resting our foreheads together.
After sharing affection, my response is, “Yeah, it’s okay Te. It’s okay to find it funny, and to use humor. You’re right, I do know you. Teasing’s par for the course, and I wouldn’t try to change you, or have it any other way.”
After sighing a long while, I add, “You have to see how ridiculous this is though, right? Like, there’s no way we can ever be deployed on the same mission, because I’d probably be completely stupid around her, so distracted that I don’t even respond to danger or something.”
Teuila’s avatar dances its fingers up the chest of mine as she teases, “Orrr,” elongating the word for longer than necessary before adding, “maybe you’ll go all out, with maximum effort, to show off, to get her to like you, yeah?” Teuila flicks my nose for emphasis as she ends her tease.
I blush to high heavens in thinkspace and meatspace. My heart’s hammering in my chest, and there’s fluttering in my stomach, and at the moment, I can’t tell if it’s because of my beloved Teuila, our private time in thinkspace, or because of Errissa’s sashaying sway as she saunters away from the feast hall, very pointedly not disappearing for once. Errissa’s hips and hindquarters would normally be hidden beneath her cloak, but her whip-like tapered tail, situated perfectly at the nape of her back, suspends most of her cloak in the air, above her hips. If I’m the only one that manages to perceive the unobservable Spymaster, it grants me a perfect view of the flattering firmness of her—. I gulp, rattling my skull. Hell, it could be both. Both is always an option.