Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was Duty of one kind that had brought him to the gala. Duty of a page in training to the wonder of Giza. The invite had come to the academy, offering the promise of a break from his studies and from how very homesick the distance from Uranus was making him. He missed the marketplace, the pyramids. He missed his parents and his sisters. He missed Kes...

It'd been years since he'd seen her. First she'd gone into the academy, then by the time he'd followed after she'd already been left. He had no way of knowing when he'd get a chance to see her again, and her certainly wasn't expecting to see her here.

And yet...

The shocking of seeing her there distracted, at least for a moment, from the obvious air of grief that seemed to hang around her like a miasma. He saw instead the curve of her cheek beneath the veil, the sweep of her shoulders beneath the black. She looked to him both exactly the same as she always had, and yet still so different. Time and distance had changed her. Changed them both.

But as he moved towards her, undeterred by the arrival of another woman offering wine, it was impossible not to see the lack of a smile, the light in her eyes. The excitement he felt at seeing her was overwhelmed by a wave of concern as approached the pair.

A hand lifted to touch fingers to her arm as he stopped beside her. "Zoji?" It was soft and questioning, but he flicked a look up to the woman in silver, dipped his head in a respectful nod of greeting.

There wasn't a parlor trick glamour in the world that could stop Zoji La from recognizing Hvergelmir. The glittering star, the lighthouse in one of the many ports of call that Crims had called home. Beautiful, effervescent, and an absolute relief to see, especially with a wind glass in hand.

"Oh, I could kiss you," Zoji La hummed, a grateful smile peeking out from under her veil when she reached for the beverage. It gave her something to do with her hands instead of fidget and pick, and the company that came with it was simply second to none. To anyone else, the black and purple was a mystery requiring context, a strange heavy cloak on a woman who was supposed to be light as air, but Zoji La didn't need to explain herself to Hvergelmir--she needed only to exist as she was, and for once she didn't have to put on airs. She envied the Knight of the Cosmos for her resilience and composure, the ability to lift her chin and drop her shoulders and make pretend that the skies of their lives weren't gray and listless. Still, the smile on the opal woman's face suggested a weariness that Zoji understood, and she nodded solemnly as she took her first sip.

Zoji sighed, crinkling her nose--she hated that question, mostly because she'd never been a particularly good liar, and she despised playing games she couldn't win. "Not so bad as at first, but...it's still difficult to believe. Sometimes I expect that this whole time, he's had us with one of his little tricks, and that the right wind will bring him back to port like nothing happened." She glanced up at the tapestry, tilting her head with a difficult smile. "It's a beautiful piece," she said, doing her best not to choke. "Captures that vagabond spirit of his. You should be proud."

She caught motion at the edge of her field of vision and turned just in time to watch a masked man reach for her. At once her posture tensed and her eyes widened, only to soften when she studied his features. His was a face she'd known, and a voice she remembered, though both of them had been smaller the last time she'd seen him. "Amon," she replied, soft and awed as she looked him over. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Done with the Academy so soon?" She couldn't feel his aura to know if he'd yet graduated as a page, but that was no surprise--all auras were dulled here somehow, making peasants and kings equal and alike. It was probably not the intent, given the history of the reigning Chauvet, but she appreciated it all the same.

She stepped back, making room for a conversation for two to grow into a group chat. "Amon--this is Hvergelmir, Knight of the Cosmos. We have a mutual friend that's brought us together." And then, turning back to Hvergelmir, she nodded. "Hvergelmir, this is Amon. He's a native Uranian, and a long-time friend." In both instances, there was a certain weight to the way that she said friend that belied another meaning.

The aggrieved pair made excuses the moment they could get a word in edgewise.

“Ah dear me… I think I left my hand bag in the Gallery. I really must get it, I couldn’t bear to lose it.” The lady said, fluttering her fan as she made a hasty little curtsy and fled. Her companion looked panicked at being left alone with Sylmare, coughing as he tugged at the top of his fancy dress coat.

“Um… yes, well. I believe my wine glass is empty. If you’ll excuse me.” He gruffed, slipping away before they had drawn breath to comment about the server standing ten paces away, tray full of glasses. A frown pulled their pale brows together, the corners of the wide mouth pulling down.

Unfeeling, that’s what those two were. Who cared if some magical beast disappeared forever, when the fashion on Venus changed with the whims of its people? Far more interesting. Bah.

The whole point to coming to this thing was the chance to mingle and suss out possible new worlds for relocation. Even just one new avenue to explore would make the night a success… The recent drop in population was concerning, and made the work so much more critical these days. They’d had half the foals of previous years… half the chances to find new lands to start new herds in. Sylmare sipped their forgotten wine as they cast a glance about the gala, blue eyes slipping past fancy clothes and fancy hair to light on something pleasantly gree…

“Ah! Yes, hello!” The tall Earth knight said as they swept up to the stranger, making a lavish bow that swept out the long trailing tail of their embroidered coat. “Sylmare Daeqen, if you please.”

They extended a long-fingered hand, the fine lines at corners of mouth and eyes creasing with their wide smile.

“Page of Earth. Have you been? I’m afraid I don’t recognize the planet you hail from, but it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Have you had the delight of seeing a Unicorn before?”

He'd been looking around, trying to find the knight of this wonder, when someone else happen upon him. Taken by surprise the senshi shook his head slowly. "N-no...I've never seen a unicorn. I've read about them...part of my lessons..." Though there hadn't been much to be read, scant few pages in a handful of books.

"Glynvalur Karthol...senshi of Kiuchi..." Though he doubted they'd veer heard of his home, he was certain they would be clueless about his sphere. He wasn't likely to be the most well known...aside from those who might know of his home worlds long standing war with Panacea. He was, in part, hoping to run into the senshi of the planet in order to try and mend things...without others around to interfere. He didn't think it would work but he had some amount of hope, it would be for the best of their respective people.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well." Bowing his head slightly, hair sweeping across his mask. Maybe not either of the people he was looking for but he was happy to meet someone anyway. Not to mention they had opened up with an interesting topic - unicorns.

And there she was! One of the two he was looking for! How wonderful, and coming to him just as he was talking to someone new. Well, he'd just have to balance the conversation...or so he figured. Instead it seemed the knight was more than happy to talk to them both.

"I'm glad you like my choice in outfit." Bowing in return he kept a smile on his face. "The gallery is lovely, a splendid gathering of fine arts from all over...a very lovely way to see what each place has to offer." It did give an idea to the cultures around the cosmos and what sort of art to expect from them. It was lovely.

"I was rather hoping to run into you tonight. Perhaps you, and your gallery, might like a piece from one of the many master craftsmen of my own planet. Something you can work with them on?" He offered before his attention drifted to the Earth knight. "Does she speak truth? Are you working on preserving unicorns? I don't know much about them but I assume they are in danger then...." His words trailed off as he gently shook his head.

"That won't do. From what I've read of them they are lovely creatures - something worth preserving...and not in stone." Although a statue of a unicorn would be lovely, of that he was sure. Something in marble and inlaid gold perhaps...that was a lovely idea, and an idea to continue on with another time.

"If my planet can, in some way, offer help let me know. No need for diplomats. You can talk directly to me on the matter." He did prefer to be rather hands on, unlike some previous senshi of his planet. He didn't have an issue with his diplomats, he liked them all a lot, but he rather liked getting hands on in things...at least as much and as often as possible. It gave him a better feel and understanding of things. It wasn't always possible though - a shame really.

Blaine



Blaine swallowed, pasting a wan smile on his face, after polishing off a third glass of champagne. He needed more — something better, something stronger, something that could suppress the impending collapse of Scholomance's infrastructure. But Blaine only managed the patchwork solution of a simple trade, and in exchange, what did he receive?

An invitation to a gala. The eighth gala, thrown by Chauvet, forecasted to be one of the highlights of interstellar events and Blaine could not drown out the inevitable collapse of his position. Scholomance would fold like Blaine's reputation.

So Blaine drew a great breath, set the glass aside on some unfortunate table, and swept in with a clumsy step. He wore smiles, tossed looks, checked out a gaggle of strangers who probably had their own planets and wonders and economic collapses to think about. Some boasted great personalities. Others were bland as bread and stood about nursing their drinks. As Blaine checked the buttons on his coat, he saw others still who wore morning colors in a place as bright and boisterous as a gala. Tone deaf came to mind, but dissonance seemed more likely.

He knew how to give that social catastrophe a wide berth, however. Empty glass swapped for full, he made his way through the clusters of people, barely skirting them (and sometimes not skirting them at all) as he approached his own artifact. There it stood, one of Scholomance's many great achievements, now stuck in a dusty conservatory where it would sit, unused and unimportant, until Blaine was long dead.

For a pittance. Blaine sold years' worth of magical research and engineering for a pittance. He forced out a watery smile.

Camellia Hae



Camellia entered the Gallery, eyes taking in the details, her expression unreadable. Ostensibly, she was here as a benefactor of the gallery... The manuscript had been hers, after all, technically, but the reality was that her father had donated it 'in her name', without her permission. Her mother's masterwork, that she died completing, and the original was to be kept under glass in a museum for strange people to gawk over and not understand the significance.

There were hundreds of original, wonderful works to have donated, but her father had given in and donated this one, even when she had told him no. It infuriated her, though she did not blame DeGrasse... After all, it had been her father who had taken the action. And now she could not reclaim it, not without causing a great scene.

She had, however, made sure to arrange to have all of her mother's other belongings locked where her father could not get them, and had contacted some friends with other forms of power then a fairly new Senshi had to make sure he had no more real power of his own, to prevent him from trying anyways.

She moved amongst the strangers and possibly various acquaintances, her mask a half mask of pure silver (it was lined with soft materials, to protect her skin), with an enameled musical score in red. Her dress was red with gold trim, the colors of Valetudo, a long affair that covered her shoulders and did it's best to accentuate what little curvature the tall woman had. She went to look at her manuscript, mournful for a moment, and was about to move to congratulate their hostess... She would do the polite thing, as needed, even if she was a touch resentful... When she almost bumped into a gentleman heading for another piece. She froze, given that he had a glass of champagne in his hand and she did not want him ruining her dress, and said "My apologies... Is that piece from your world or Wonder?"

Her tone was politely inquisitive, because it seemed easier.