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The wide, elevated meadow full of people was in a somewhat festive mood. They’d just done something harrowing and hard, but they had done it. They believed in themselves that much at least. Captain Wendel Harper’s runners from the field had been tying up the passenger organization so people could get aboard and they could go. The fuels money was there, she believed them. This was actually a nice place for a breather. There was a mist of flowers over the ground. Flowers. It was just her again on the road, plus this next bunch.

Wendel had been called in to redistribute people in an inaccessible meadow. Vedani throughports had already sent some of them home. If this worked out, Wendel might be hiring more shuttle power to help, and this could go faster. Sending everybody somewhere specific wasn’t as easy as doing it the way they’ve done it before; conundrums like this are situationally unique, as tend to be their solutions. Only so much could safely be done at a time, given the energy resources. They’d ported out a fleet of soldiers all at once, but that had been improvised on the spot with the emergency inspiration of a unique set of embodied forces. Vedani formulae had to respect some laws of nature, so things progressed steadily apace. People were doing well enough hanging in there, prepared and lighter-hearted, even celebratory. There were no Vedani in this meadow, just humans. They did all know Vedani, and confirmed that the ride was called for them.

There were still a lot of people left here, but not too many. That’s what the encoded request for service had said when it came to her through Drift X. The message popped up through an obscure node of the system that she’d barely remembered was active. It was written in knowledgable cargo/passenger format, but came over a Vedani signal. They had her number, alright. So did a lot of people, and Wendel usually didn’t mind too much. So, she took the weird job, going somewhere weird to take some people home. Long way to come for just another forty people (out of a lot), but they’re the next most important forty people, all going to their own homes. It’d be some work.

She’d just taken people to safety, now she was taking them home. There was lots of hugging and exchanging of information. The sun was shining. Moments like these, she loves her job. Wendel has high job satisfaction, though. This is when it’s simple. This is when it’s easy to be proud of herself.

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– I perceive a number of obstacles in this consideration.
– There must be a way around that.
– Very little precedent.
– I’m balancing considerations.
– Whether or not we can will have to depend.

After expanses of creating a new mind to understand things he was seeing along his journey while being something totally other than himself, this was actually familiar. There was a cadence to these perspectives that resided within the Kao-Sidhe realm. Dragon Food was remembering again who he was and what he was, something that always came back to him if he forgot a little while mostly disincorporate.

The sound of this group was not squabbling, exactly – more like jocular and determined divergence of opinion. A pastime for some, a passion for others. Dragon Food had occasionally joined in himself, being a personage of at times unique perspective begging to be flexed. They would draw him in when he had particular relevance, and he frankly enjoyed the multi-faceted and contradictory nature of what might be called truth, but is more often a common ground. The ground. He forgot about the ground! Dragon Food loves the ground, he sometimes finds himself there. He gravitated toward the common ground being found.

– And if they should find it thus…
– It could be seen differently.
– It’s time to resolve a longstanding issue.
– The dangers are clear.

Dragon Food breached the membrane of understanding, and the decontextualized comments gained their background and discussion history. He prodded his being and discovered that he was completely himself again. He knew they were talking about matters of great recent interest, in which he was deeply involved. The bodies in discussion had had the presentiment for some time that they would be called in on this, and had made it their business already. They were enjoying themselves, and welcomed Dragon Food to join in the Fray.

– Please reaffirm the agreement.
– I agree to disagree.
– Good! Let’s begin again.

San Diego Comic-Con International

Here I go, going to be on the volunteer crew for Comic-Con International in San Diego! I can’t promise where I’ll be, but if you want to get in touch, I’ll be around if you want to get me through my channels. Let me know your tables, panels, and stomping grounds, and we might see each other there. Next week! 20/21-24.

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In the resounding blackness of the fluid abyssal bottom that the eldest Davyjones called home, there was a ripple of strange noise. It was also familiar, perhaps the echo of a voice from a chamber plus a specific, known heartbeat. It was that thing, that structure, moving in an unusual fashion. The dragonspeaker was inside it, the strategic human Draig.

There were no refracted wavelengths from it, just a couple sparkles of electricity on the streams. Still just motion in the water, there would be light soon – that thing is very bright. The Davyjones could tell by the movement where they were looking to go, and how far, and how well they were doing. There were a number of currents that radiated from here that he knew and could feel. The massive building-sized boltcutter claws sent off a thundering few beats of aqueous percussion.

This subtly noticeable vibration reached the Arch in motion, and Draig Claymore recognized the feel of those stony gates crashing shut nearby. It was the inimitable, unsurpassed, majestic crustacean dragon friend, the Eldest Davyjones. What was he doing here? Upon his request, they darkened the Arch except for operating information. There was a lot of ocean on this planet, and here they were, crossing paths. Draig could think of a few possible ways to go from here, and was balancing likely propulsion allowance within the meteoric depths. They might want to see the Davyjones if they could, if only to dodge its gigantic bulk.

A light kindled in the darkness, a shade of blue that Draig recalled from the time that the Dragon Arctyri had introduced them. This time, as they neared enough to discern it, there were only some visible parts of the intricate lines of bioluminescence on the Eldest. Draig saw the convergence point of these lines, as well as their radiant angles. He understood. They had come to an understanding during that introduction, and it was still there. Judging from where they’d been going, Claymore could figure out where those lines went. Those were currents, in the facing direction. He did not doubt the Davyjones. Draig instinctively determined their course with this. The Woollibees set the Arch as requested, and they were rewarded with a surge of following current. Draig cackled, and pounded his knuckles on the viewing pane in a chipper answering beat.

The Eldest Davyjones perceived the rhythmic answer, and blinked his eye bouquets at the calculus curve of the passing Arch. With one crash of a claw, the encounter was concluded. He returned to spinning a profound eternity of deep blind contemplations on the great ocean.