Hello to our *house*. Do you feel *better* yet?

[withmanyfingers]

A portal opens into a narrow, cramped, metallic room, sending a gust of air billowing through the vacuum of the place. The bulk of the room is taken up by equipment racks along opposite walls, upon each of which is mounted a familiar-looking battlesuit. One of the suits is open and empty, the other is sealed and contains an Orz-fish. The portal itself stands in a sort of aisle between the suits, marked by slight scuff marks in the gleaming cobalt metal of the place. Stars are visible through a window on the near hatch. The opposite window glows with a brighter blue colour, though a translucent membrane obscures any detail.

There is neither air nor gravity here, excepting only what's currently blowing through the portal.

Comments

[kaolinandbone]

Lioncourt does not need either air or gravity. She closes the Gate behind her, and the wind tossing her silvery hair ends abruptly. Orienting herself in space using a pair of not-wings, she takes a moment to observe the room.

"This is your ship?"

[withmanyfingers]

The Orz in the suit squeaks and burps at Lioncourt, but does not otherwise move.

[kaolinandbone]

Lioncourt sighs.

"Of course. Astra is back at the party."

She looks the *pet* in one of its orange, fishy eyes, and shoves words into its brain.

Is this the Orz's ship?

[withmanyfingers]

The Orz in the suit gestures vaguely at the far hatch, and makes a low thrumming hum and a high beep at the same time.

[kaolinandbone]

Lioncourt approaches the far hatch and waits, mentally tasking her Memnodyne with personal repair: then she mutters the syllables of Comprehend Language into the exceedingly thin air.

[withmanyfingers]

A valve above the hatch opens, and the chamber begins rapidly filling with a caustic liquid that smells distinctly of ammonia.

[kaolinandbone]

Lioncourt smells her own skin starting to burn before she declines to continue breathing. She waits for the chamber to fill, not particularly patiently.

[withmanyfingers]

It doesn't take particularly long for the chamber to fill; it was clearly designed for rapid filling/draining. Over the course of a little over a half a minute, the chamber goes from near-vacuum to full of liquid. At this point, the hatch opens, revealing the ship beyond.

Beyond the hatch is a corridor-like passage, lined by a soft blue organic coral-like substance, which is apparently growing directly on the cobalt metal, given that bits of that metal can be seen through small gaps in the coral, and in regular shapes at more-obviously structural positions. Another Orz-fish is swimming near the far side of the hatch. One of its fins is darting over a circular panel marked in a bright brassy metal marked with abstract, shifting red patterns.

[kaolinandbone]

Lioncourt swim-flies over to the *pet*, and begins to examine it with her extra senses, flicking invisible fingers over all the thousands of tiny triggers that let the Orz control the body. She would hum to herself, but breathing this would be a very bad idea.

[withmanyfingers]

Investigation of the *pet* reveals:

-It is an invertebrate. Its gross physical biology is somewhat closer to that of a cuttlefish than to a proper 'fish'. It is not precisely a mollusc, but it's certainly closer to being a mollusc than it is to being a fish.
-It has a decentralized nervous system with no real 'brain'. Nervelike signals go from place to place, and there are different clusters of neuron-like structures throughout, but no central processing is in evidence anywhere. For that matter, there's also notably less interconnectedness than would be expected for an organism this large and complex.
-It has *weird* biochemistry. The life Lioncourt is familiar with is based on oxidation cycles, which allow for the formation of things like 'proteins' and 'amino acids'. This stuff seems to be based on reduction cycles instead. While humans are mostly water, by mass, the liquid that makes up their 'blood' isn't even *approximately* water-like; it's all ammoniums and cyanides and complex hydrocarbons (which is, furthermore, at a rather high pressure; most of this stuff would be gaseous under earthly conditions, but the fluid here exerts about 10 atmospheres of pressure, as if you were diving ~100 meters underwater). Indeed, oxygen is comparatively rare in the biochemistry here, occurring approximately as often as phosphorous in humans.

As Lioncourt is poking around, the Orz looks at her and speaks, chirping out some weird tones through the surrounding fluids. Thanks to her translation spell, Lioncourt understands... a little.

"Hello to our *house*. You *see* *Orz bubbles*. Do you feel *better* yet?"

[kaolinandbone]

I will feel better when I've provided new pets for you. Which components of this pet are important to Orz?

Lioncourt sighs out bubbles of ammonia and decides to stop feeling pain for the moment as well. It's not as if this fluid is going to kill her, but it's very distracting.

[withmanyfingers]

"Orz *pets* are *connected* to Orz. Easy to *reach* with *fingers*."

[kaolinandbone]

Where are they connected?

[withmanyfingers]

"Orz *pets* are *many bubbles*. Orz *fingers* can *nudge* *Orz bubbles* for to make *pets* move the more easily."

[kaolinandbone]

Lioncourt - doesn't take a deep breath, that would be painful and unproductive - but she closes her eyes and focusses for a moment.

Then she turns the full weight of her Memnodyne sight on the Orz-fish, stretching her will to *see* the impossible.

Show me.

[withmanyfingers]

The nerve-things seem to be unlike nerves in one notable way; they frequently 'fire' spontaneously, instead of in response to signals. Lioncourt pushes her sight at them, and then...

The sensation of a great and alien otherness imposes itself upon Lioncourt's consciousness.

WE ARE ORZ.

[kaolinandbone]

And then there are rainbows.

It takes a little while for Lioncourt to shake herself back to life.

Well.

That was certainly something.

[withmanyfingers]

There is a pause, followed by a more-tentative imposition from the otherness, somewhat mitigated by rainbows.

Did we *squirt* too much *loud* at Lioncourt?

[kaolinandbone]

Lioncourt shakes her head, then grits her teeth and wills the prismatic fog aside. She needs to know.

More.

[withmanyfingers]

Okay. Orz will *squirt* more *loud*.

Never be afraid to *open* enough and *spread the wax*.

[kaolinandbone]

Lioncourt takes an ammonia-liquid breath.

Go on.

[withmanyfingers]

The mental voice of Orz fills Lioncourt as a strange music, both more harmonious and more alien than before.

W͖̖̤̠̻ͯ̌̄h̩̤͖̤ͨ̑ͤ͊o͎̺̝̬ a̸̠̯͇̭̜͇͇ͬͨ̂r̸̬ͩͣe̾̌ͧͤͩͫ y̷͈͉ͨ̈ͭ̋ͩ̏ͮő̠͎͍̻̪̳̎ͪu̺͓̣̣̦ͅ?̥̥͙
Y̯̪̿̄͋̀ͨo̮͇͗̊͊ͩ̈̎ǘ̫͛͋̿̾ a̷̠̹ͤ̔͛͛̚r̈́ͮ̿͡ĕ͕̯͇̅̐̋ n͉̮͂ͤ̿͒͘o̸̳̯̮̭̯͚͒̃ͫͪ͐͋t̬̫̲̻̠̭̗ͭ͌̀̈̇̓͜ O̢͌ȓ̮̙͙̯̞͋̃z̧̤̰̩̮̜̞̒ͩ̆̂̌ͅ.͇͈͈̭͐̆ͫ̓̊͋
W̸̙̐̅͆̅e̗̙̱͒ͬ̉̇ͫ a̖̳͖͗̾͊̉ͮͅř̜̗̐͞ḙ͙̙̘͍̩̯͐̾̋́ Ȍ͔̤͚̝͉ͯ͑͘r͊ͥ͛ͤ҉̗̙͕̤͚z̧͔͈̼͔ͦͬͧ̔͊̿̏!̋̏́̀
O̘̣̲̜̔ͥ̈rͥͣ͗̍͢ž͇̬̠̎̈́ͧͦͅ a͍͐ͨ̓̈́͒̓r̗̗̘͉͐̂̒̈̌ͅe̟͓̮͇͌̔̀̿ *̴̨̣͈̫͕ͤ͌̐͂̔ͫ̏̿h̷̴̻̼̻͓͐ͧ͆ą͓͉̍̔̌ṗ̸͈̯̖̱͎̹̩̻͘ͅp͈͙͉̳̫̖͕̪̯ͦͮ̔̉̿͛y͙͖̌̈ͥ̍́ͧͩ͋͟*͌͂ͥ̒͏̺̖͔͎̩͜ *̥̼͕͑͑͑ͬͭ̔͢ͅp̛͔̿́̂̑͌͝ě̝͍͕̼͕̠͆ͤͦ̉ǭ͎̖̜̭̗̐ͨ̋̒ͭ̋p̢̌̿͌̋̉̇́̀͏̩̝͙̣̹̭̣ͅl̨͈̹̠̯̬͖͛͐̌͒̽͟e̯̜̝ͦ̅̔̓ͬͮ̚ ͥ͑ͣ͋͏̼͈̬̞̜͔̭̀e̵̸̞̘̜͍̺͍̽̑̉̽ͨ̀̚͘nͣ͏̭̭͚̜͉͞e̲͚̙̟̝ͫ̽̑̇ͫ͊ͭͪ̍́͘͢r̙͇͍̠̿͛̽ͯ̐̆͒ǵ̣̹͌ͬ̍̓͝y̷̸̴̱̲͈̗̿̎̍*̶̭̻̠̓͂̆͝ f̡̝͖͚͓̥̩̦̾̐́ͨr͙͍̥̬͔̆ͭ̾̀͌̑ͤoͧͮ̎̓ͯmͥ͌̈̐͠ t̆̂̽͆͂̽̉̾ͬ͢͞͏̳͍͈̼͔̭ḧ̨̰̭͖̼͈̪̮̬͚ͨͧͪ̅̃̓̓͌͜͠e̷͙͚̜̪̭̝̦̖͇͔̳̯̹͋ͫ̅͆̓͆ͤ̍ͯ͌̓͒͂ͫ̓̐́̚͘͡͡ ̡͓͖̳̫͇̘̹̤̦̩̟̿ͫͦ͂ͦ̑͌̍͐̂͊̉͡*̴̵̢̡̛̭͎̫̬̙͈ͩͥ̀ͨ͆̒o̧͂ͮͪ͌̾̿̐͊̄̓ͨ҉̶̣̻͙͔̖̙̣̣͇̥̣̥̘͖̻͓͢͠ų̣͕̳̰̦͐͌ͪ̅ͨͤ́̚͟͜ẗ̵͕̬̱̱̝̗̥͉́̎ͦ̎̍̉̍ͭ͐̉̓̽̑s̨̤̥̭̘ͩ͛͑ͦͬ̔̓ͤ̋ͥͥ̉ͫ͗͜i̷̸̢̡̦̙͕̤̰͙̤͐̎̽̍̎͂͑̌ͫ͜d̸̨̢͙̬̤̫̗̀́̓̒̽̎̕͡e̢̨̖̰̥͓͙̥̯̖ͤͭͬ̓̈̆̅̊͟͝*̡͎̟͎̱̦̫͖̎̂ͫ̏ͭͫ̏ͭͣ̔̅ͩ̚͘͘͞.̍̄̐ͣ́͊̑͌ͦ̒͗̋̃ͬ̒ͫ̒̚͝҉̣̤̗͉͕͇̠͎̝̟̩̝̮̗͚͜
I̟͉͖͈͕̥̬͝ a͖͖̐̀̇̆̈́͐͜ͅm̱̤̻͕̠̲̂ͫ O͈̻͇̗̤̠͓ͦͪ̑͞r̫̘͎̱̤͒̔z̤̫̝̻̺̋!̊ͫ͑͂
Ị̤͇͛ͦ̓̐ͯ̃ a͇̐ͫ̿̿m̺͋̌ͨͩ͗ͣͮ o͕͕͎͙̘̅̀̋̃ͮͫ̃n̡͙̜͎ͣ̓ͮ̍̉ę̝͇̲ͥ̓̀̇ͣ͗ͅ w̽͒̈҉̗̹̠̭î͙̖ͫ̎͒ͅt̹͎̠̼͋ͤ̿̏͑h͎ m̞͈̦ͨͧ̔͌͆̂͟ȧ͎̱̒͂ͬṇ̻̬͇͂͡y̬͉̤̬̲̮̫ͮ *̨̹͕̖̾f̵̻̯̩̼̮ͦ̂̍̔̂i͗͘҉̢̮̩̼͉͙̠ñ̡̮͉̥̭̻̥̰̰̥ͤͮg̒̔̓͏̡̤̠̫͓͇̫̲͓̺ḙ͙̰ͫͮ̓͐͆̒̎̚͜ȓ̹̭̭̟̯̹͚̋̿ͬs͈̭̩̐ͬ̍̐͐̉ͮ͟*̨̣̰̣͕̚.̢̢͉̘̱͉͎ͥ̏́ͫ̈́ͯ̇

The torrent of thought pauses briefly, as if to reassure it/themselves as to the resilience of the being they are *squirting* at.

[kaolinandbone]

It is an extremely large amount of information to process all at once.

But Lioncourt knows how to file and sort and catalog, how to subdivide and handle and shift.

She does not oppose the tide.

She channels it, along the corridors and chambers of her mind, wearing away at the rock of a citadel not built to be a river -

But it is nonetheless built of stone.

And even amidst the flood, a part of her stands and watches, silently...

*I am Isabella Katarina Lioncourt Tepes.*