Vaunted Guardian Diplomatic Training 25th Of April

[17:05] * Rora brushed at his AC Suit again. It was just as unnecessary as it had been five minutes ago, but now he stood before the door Simurgh had directed him to; the door to the one he'd found on Zeruel IV, in that frantic eleventh hour. Well, the one that Chantry Watcher had alerted him to, really - he'd never have known otherwise. And not just anyone: the religious figurehead of a heretofore
[17:05] * Rora unknown alien race!…-
[17:05] <Rora> …Who he had promptly forgotten about in his haste to comfort himself with food, and check up on Comet Breaker…-
[17:05] * Rora shook his head, pushing away the doubts that threatened to stall him even longer. He took a deep, steadying breath…and then he gently rang the doorbell.
[17:25] <Minaplo> [The door slid open with a sound a little like rustled tissue paper.-
[17:35] <Minaplo> [Standing in the doorway was that very same religious figurehead. She was a metre 65 high, with a high, flat face, squashed little nose and big green eyes. Her fur was striking orange, with a blazing red mane, most of which was bunched into ponytails bound with rings that fell to past her waist. She wore a skintight spacesuit, although most of it was covered in a green robe that she'd procured from somewhere.-
[17:36] <Minaplo> [She tapped the translation collar around her throat experimentally. "… Yes?"]
[18:02] <Rora> "Yes, hello! I, ah," He blinked, managing to pause only briefly as visual input caught up with his planned greeting, "…yes! I am Rora Mist; I suppose we technically met on Zeruel IV, though only in the briefest fashion. Not in a true and proper sense. leaves in a tempest" He offered her a formal Defector bow, arms both corporeal and ethereal crossed before him. "Apologies for
[18:02] <Rora> my tardiness in making your acquaintance."
[18:10] <Minaplo> ["Are you the one who threw me into a cargo dock?"]
[18:17] <Rora> "…Er." He blinked again, AT feathers blinking into concerned blue existence for a moment. "It was my intent to have maneuvered your craft with due care, but time was, admittedly, quite short. My condolences if I inadvertently caused you harm as a result."
[18:26] <Minaplo> ["If you're going to rescue someone, you gotta make space in the cockpit. That's how it goes."]
[18:37] <Rora> "I…see," he said gravely, a blank expression on his face…and then a quiet 'hmm' escaped him. He allowed himself
[18:41] <Rora> <…and then a quiet 'hmm' escaped him. "It would seem I might require a review of the instruction manual for the process, before ere long." A slight smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, unbidden.>
[18:54] <~Minaplo> ["What do you want?"]
[19:03] <Rora> "Hm! That…is a good question." He tapped at his chin, thoughtful. "Well…I suppose I mostly just wanted to ensure you were unharmed and in good spirits, as well as introduce myself. Which…I have done now. And which you seem to be."-
[19:09] * Rora rubbed absently at an arm, brow furrowed as mental gears continued to turn. "…Well, truth be told, I would appreciate knowing your name. And perhaps, about the religion that you…lead? I hear you are an important figure therein. carrying sand with a sieve"
[19:10] <~Minaplo> ["You can start by taking your battlesuit off."]
[19:38] <Rora> "My battle…suit…!" He hurried out of view to one side, from where a series of whirs and hisses ensued, before nimbly returning with a couple graceful steps.-
[19:52] <Rora> Most of Rora's visible outfit consisted of a sable robe, the velvet-like material shimmering softly in the light. The sleeves were wide and long - enough to obscure all but the tips of his fingers most of the time - though the inner sections were currently bunched up in Rora's self-conscious fists. Likewise, the hem reached down well past his knees, swaying in its newfound freedom from
[19:52] <Rora> the AC suit. However he too wore a skintight suit, as evidenced by the dark barkwood brown fabric that peeked up from the robe's collar, making his olive skin look lighter by comparison than it actually was, and the robe somehow even darker. The boots he wore were a matching brown, angled askance from his impromptu dismount from the suit.-
[19:56] * Rora looked up at her from his now 1 meter 57 vantage, wearing a wincing smile. "It is…regrettable how often I forget to do that. shedding a second skin"
[20:18] <~Minaplo> ["You need to stop doing that with your face."]
[20:24] <Rora> "The thing with…?" Puzzled oranged and purples flared up. "…Hm. Well, I did a couple things there. Do you mean, this," he scrunched up his face, as if he had just bitten into a fresh lemon, "…or this?" changing his expression to a wide, easygoing smile.
[20:26] <~Minaplo> [The Maiden leapt backwards about half a metre, a low growl in her throat. "That. The mouth thing."]
[20:35] * Rora nearly jumped himself, taking a steadying step backwards, an arm half-raised. "…Well then! One mystery solved: no smiling." He cleared his throat, his startled electric-blue AT plumage winking out even as a simple green mask of light materialized around his eyes. A short sigh, as he deliberately relaxed his face into neutral expression. "Does this adhere closer to your sensibilities?"
[20:35] <~Minaplo> ["Yes. Better."-
[20:38] <~Minaplo> ["I am Russkra Ssatra." Said Russkra, pulling herself up to her full height, both arms at her side, palms outward. "Last Maiden of the Shrinepath. Since the Shrinepath seems to be the thing you Twiceborn really love, I suppose I can tell you about it. Sit, Mr. Mist."]
[20:53] <Rora> "My gratitude, Maiden Ssatra," he said, moving to the chair that struck him as appropriate, "though I also would not wish to burden you with my curiosity, should the subject of the Shrinepath be one too oft repeated for toda-"-
[20:53] * Rora blinked. "…Last Maiden?"
[20:56] <~Minaplo> ["Chairs aren't for you."]
[20:58] * Rora hesitated, hand mid-reach for the back of the chair. "…Pardon?"
[21:00] <~Minaplo> [Russkra tapped the ground with her foot.]
[21:08] <Rora> "…Hmmh." A reddish gold light roiled around the edges of the mask. "And this is necessary, because…?"
[21:09] <~Minaplo> ["If you want to learn about the Shrinepath, then you do so on my terms." Said Russkra.]
[21:17] <Rora> "…I suppose you are entitled to impose such a restriction, as you see fit." He shrugged, sitting cross-legged…in the middle of the air. "How does this fare as a compromise?" he inquired, now hovering at an even height with her.
[21:26] <~Minaplo> ["Tell me, those patterns, the feathers… Are you trying to emulate a Masked One?"]
[21:32] <Rora> "Successfully, I would hope; my parents are Defectors, after all." He very pointedly didn't smile as he gathered up some of the now-excess robe into his lap. A merry turquiose still twinkled about the mask, despite his efforts.
[21:34] <~Minaplo> ["I see."-
[21:35] <~Minaplo> ["It seems that your parents are as arrogant as their 'Overseer' counterparts, if this is how they raised you." Russkra pointed towards the door. "Out."]
[21:44] <Rora> "…Is that so." His eyes narrowed, the mask now a solid, blood red. He then smoothly set foot back on the ground, taking measured steps towards the door. "A pity, then, that they are unable meet you today." He turned back to her, just outside the room. "They obviously have much they could learn about the subject from you."
[21:50] <~Minaplo> [A sudden golden radiance burst from Russkra's form, enveloping her in a blinding halo. She raised a hand toward Rora and roared towards him-
[21:50] <~Minaplo> [- Just as the door shut and locked.-
[21:50] <~Minaplo> [These rooms were soundproofed, at least; the raging sound was silenced immediately.-
[21:51] <~Minaplo> [Replaced by a low whistle. A few doors down stood Idris, arms folded, leaning against the ground.-
[21:51] <~Minaplo> ["Nice."]
[21:56] <Rora> Rora's gaze snapped over at the word, face still frozen in a mask of silent fury, both figurative and otherwise. "…Have we met," he managed in clipped tones.
[21:59] <Minaplo> ["You haven't met me." Said Idris, rising to his feet whilst remaining perfectly still. "Idris Adil Hafiz el-Hashem, Starship Evangelion."]
[22:04] <Rora> "I…see." The crimson mask of light fell away, replaced by feathers just as vivid. He pressed his hands against his face, his breathing becoming heavier and somewhat strained. "I hope you…can forgive me…if I'm…" he shook his head, "…less than cordial…right now. SPEARS AND BLOOD" Another pause. "…Idris."
[22:14] <Minaplo> ["Mmmm, seems like she got you." Said Idris. "It's been a very long time since I've been as angry as either of you are, Alhamdulillah. Would you like some help?"]
[22:23] <Rora> "Alha…uh…?" Rora now had his palms pressed over his eyes, shaking slightly with each breath. "Just need…a few minutes…for some, huhh…emotional distance? FIRE AND ASH" A long, slow, deliberate breath. "Or did you mean…something else?"
[22:24] <Minaplo> ["Well, I could take you to have a drink. Or I could be an ear for you to talk about your problems. Or, yes, I could probably use my AT Field to enforce calmness on you, but you'd have to ask."]
[22:31] <Rora> "NO, no-no- I'm…" He openly stared at Idris, terrified blue interlacing with wrathful red. "…I will not ask for that, thank you. And I…probably shouldn't drink. Kind of full, anyway… Boiling Seas"-
[22:33] <Rora> He hastily wiped his hands on the insides of his robe sleeves. "…Talk is good, though, even if time heals all wounds."
[22:34] <Minaplo> ["Time does heal all wounds, my wayward friend, but a short time on the earth can make for a thin skin." Idris walked over to Rora's side. "And our tempestuous guest… Well, she is only a child, really."]
[22:49] <Rora> "Hmmh, thin skin - I can hardly argue the accuracy of it. And all the thinner, nearer the heart." He sighed, the other side of the sleeves now used to dry his eyes. "Admittedly, I had assumed I would be speaking to an adult. Walked into that expecting someone more mature." He looked at the smudged fabric on his sleeves. "…Thought I was being so myself. glass slipping from a lax
[22:49] <Rora> grasp
[22:53] <Minaplo> ["A fair expectation. You were thinking she'd be some wise sage, and instead you found what is essentially a cleric in training. According to her loyal captain, the Maiden is roughly thirteen years old."-
[22:53] <Minaplo> ["I can't say she treated you gently, regardless."]
[23:07] <Rora> "A sentiment I would agree with, though I am, perhaps, biased." A shorter sigh. "Well. Now that I am made aware of the kitten's claws, I will be sure to hold her at arm's length. Minimum." He pressed his hands together, letting himself be distracted by the pleasant sensation of velvety fabric squashing between them.-
[23:11] <Rora> "…Oh." He looked up at Idris, concerned sea-green tinging his AT feathers. "I don't suppose you offered me a drink because you wanted one, did you?" He frowned. "Here you are comforting me, and all the while I am potentially barring you from refreshment. taking up the entire couch"
[23:13] <Minaplo> ["I don't actually need to drink, being an Evangelion. This isn't even my real form."]
[23:29] * Rora moved to speak, paused, pressed a sleeve to chin. "…Wwwwell, I did indeed fail to take that into account. But, generally speaking, wanting something and not needing it are not, themselves, mutually exclusive, yes?" Another thoughtful moment. "…So - yeah: would you like a drink, Idris?"
[23:30] <Minaplo> ["I'm good, but thank you."]
[23:36] <Rora> "Certainly." He smiled, stopped himself…then smiled again. "a forgotten limb, remembered"-
[23:39] * Rora looked warily at the door to Russkra's room, smile dissipating. "…I don't suppose I can get away with just…not talking to her ever again? penny tossed in a fountain"
[23:41] <Minaplo> ["But is that the Guardian way?" Said Idris, rubbing his chin. "Most likely, you should at some point go and apologise."]

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