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Domestic Diplomacy (Roric)

Started by Cobalt, September 07, 2015, 07:16:44 PM

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Cobalt

(@The Duke )

They'd taken away her monkey.

The monkey in question didn't care, of course, having died hours prior. She'd been assured she would get to be the one to dissect it for the students, however, and there was no excuse for taking away something with hands for feet without a very good reason. This was not a very good reason. This was some kind of political nonsense. How did this keep happening to her? She kept her head down, focused on her work, and didn't fritter away her time on political connections to temporal authorities.

And yet.

Zea told herself that perhaps it wasn't so bad. Perhaps it was about her mother. Maybe the woman had finally gone berserk at the wrong time, or indulged her carnal impulses in the wrong place. Maybe she'd been exiled. That wouldn't be so bad. Then Zea could at least blame this on someone's failure, but she had done everything right to avoid attention from social climbers.

And yet.

She'd managed to sit for a good three or four minutes on one of the floor cushions in a temple office before standing up to pace. The woven mats were tight and even beneath her bare feet, and humid air from outside sank through the undyed linen she'd worn as a concession to a day without dissections. Maybe she'd get lucky, though. Maybe this ambassador had never seen a brain before. Zea could hope.

The Duke

Roric Mela was in high spirits despite his harrowing crossing, or perhaps because of it. A few sailors had lost their lives in his journey, but he supposed that was their lot in life, or at least that's what Captain Richards had assured him seemingly vaguely happy about it, perhaps he simply saw a larger payout with less men to pay and provision. Whatever the case the taste of salt was nearly out of his mouth as he traveled the idyllic islands of his homeland.

Of course the ambassador's first stop was home. His nieces and nephews flocked him due to what he convinced himself was love, but deep down he knew it was because he always brought presents, maybe a little bit of love, but mostly presents. As the young ones ran off with their silvery dragons glittering with precious stones their eyes alight with the imagination of dragon fire, dashing knights, and princes and princesses to save. This was all Adelan nonsense of course and quite unlike the Thanati mind of live and let live, but that was cultural exchange for you.

After saying his happy hellos and mellow goodbyes, the official moved on to his temple tours. As he went to these holy places he wore a large brimmed hat serving twin purposes of shielding him from the sun and hiding his unfortunate hair. Red was an unlucky color, but it was one he had been blessed with. In Adela it drew no looks, but here upon the isles before the religious elite...well he wouldn't be a good ambassador without knowing the delicate art of white lies and harmless misdirection. Besides he looked good in the hat.

Temple and temple and shrine and temple, there were some exciting things, but mostly the same as rituals beget rituals beget feasts and so on and so forth. Roric was stuffed and his throat was sore from chanting. Luckily he had something different to do today. Rumors had abounded on this particular island about an 'unusual woman'. This sort of idle talk would mostly be ignored by the diplomat, but her research and curiosities might be worth looking into as the ambassador sought to find new things about Thanati culture to show his Adelan hosts. It was difficult to continually find things to astound the dragon riding rulers as they were in fact, dragon riders.

Coming into the temple and politely bowing low to the high priestess, who for some reason was carrying a dead monkey, Roric moved into the reserved office moving the beads away lightly stepping into the holy space with bare feet. It was not required custom, but Roric enjoyed the feeling of cold smooth stone upon his feet. Good for the sole. Eyeing the pacing woman within he flashed a smile and bowed saying,

"It is a pleasure to meet you,  Miss Misra I presume?"

Arching up slowly the diplomat poised himself perfectly his every movement as carefully crafted as a glass etching,

"I'm quite excited to learn more about you and your work, rumors abound and even by Thanati standards you seem to be causing quite a stir." Roric chuckled at that and finding a cushion swiftly sat in cross legged style. When he first arrived he had to readjust to this style of sitting, but daily meditation in tens of groves had led him to relearn it and learn it quiet permanently.

Patting the cushion across from him the diplomat kept up his smile letting it dim only slightly in hopes that the two would settle into a hearty conversation very soon.

Cobalt

Zea had to stop pacing once a live person showed up to converse with her. Live people spotted things like that and drew conclusions. Ghastly observant things, the living. It was a male, which she'd been led to expect, but that was some weirdly pallid skin. Was it some kind of birth defect or was he just... well, foreign? Being born overseas herself Zea understood that there was foreign and foreign, and by the look of this ambassador... well, she did find herself wondering whose ambassador he was really.

Boy moved like a Maoin. He'd gone into formal politics instead, though, and still he moved like that. Zea wondered if he'd ever killed anyone. She suspected that would be a treat to watch, assuming he went in for that sort of thing.

"Ambassador Mela."

She took the two necessary steps to reach the cushion laid out across from the ambassador and sank down on her heels. She wouldn't have minded someone seeing up beneath the hem of her shift, but she figured she'd go easy on him until she actually needed to poke and prod. Splitting the difference between her technically-higher rank expectations and her strong preference for informality, she waited to bow in return until she was seated.

"I'd like to apologize in advance if my work exposes you to anything too far outside your experience. There are some who find my calling distasteful."

Very few proper Inimans, of course, but... well. A few. Hence the rumors, she had to guess. Maybe she could squeeze a few out of this blanched boy diplomat.

"I won't be offended if you need a change of subject or scenery at any point, so please do not hesitate to inform me of your comfort level with Temple research."

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