Dreams of Good Hope

Aerlanica wrote:

"Well hey, we gotta start somewhere, don't we?"

She set up an easel for Vara, as well as getting her a few brushes, a water can, a satchel filled with different pains and a palette.

"Alright, are we ready?"

******

The Aerlanicans watched with muted interest.

******

Iblion tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips.
"Not even a greeting?" he asked.

Vara nodded.
"Yeah, what am I supposed to do?"

******

After an hour, the wounds close up and the sick are sick no longer. They were brought in on stretchers, but they walked out.

******

Witta looked down, too weak to answer any other way.

Tyramon wrote:

Witta looked down, too weak to answer any other way.

"Don't worry, I'll walk everyone through this. Now, what pains you guys will want is Titanium White, Sap Green, Cadium Yellow..."

Ophelia listed off all of several colours and began to paint on the canvas, walking everyone through what to do, what brushes to use and how to apply the paint. She goes slow, and Vara sees that there is varying skills ranging across the gathered succubi, with some being very good, and others complete beginners as Vara can see. Inbetween instructions, she gave tips on brush care, and why she chose water to use as a brush cleaning agent.

Eventually, Ophelia's canvas moved from random splashes of colour into a pleasant forest meadow, whereupon she began to apply finer details.

******

Suffice to say, the Aerlanicans are impressed, they ask to see where this holy water comes from.

******

Iblion walked to her, and began to caress her exposed body, his hands moving wherever they pleased as he looked apathetically and dissapointedly to Witta.
"So defiant...you do realise I get what I want."

The chains released Witta, and she was left sprawled on the floor.
"If you were obedient, I would have brought Corali back and set her free, now my offer still stands but...with different paramaters."

He cast down the collar once more before Witta.
"Place on the collar, and I bring Corali back to life with some...caveats."

Aerlanica wrote:

"Don't worry, I'll walk everyone through this. Now, what pains you guys will want is Titanium White, Sap Green, Cadium Yellow..."

Ophelia listed off all of several colours and began to paint on the canvas, walking everyone through what to do, what brushes to use and how to apply the paint. She goes slow, and Vara sees that there is varying skills ranging across the gathered succubi, with some being very good, and others complete beginners as Vara can see. Inbetween instructions, she gave tips on brush care, and why she chose water to use as a brush cleaning agent.

Eventually, Ophelia's canvas moved from random splashes of colour into a pleasant forest meadow, whereupon she began to apply finer details.

******

Suffice to say, the Aerlanicans are impressed, they ask to see where this holy water comes from.

******

Iblion walked to her, and began to caress her exposed body, his hands moving wherever they pleased as he looked apathetically and dissapointedly to Witta.
"So defiant...you do realise I get what I want."

The chains released Witta, and she was left sprawled on the floor.
"If you were obedient, I would have brought Corali back and set her free, now my offer still stands but...with different paramaters."

He cast down the collar once more before Witta.
"Place on the collar, and I bring Corali back to life with some...caveats."

Vara was fairly good at following directions, and she was able to imagine what she wanted to paint in her mind, but it translated poorly onto the canvas, especially with things like perspective. Her strokes were either uncomfortably stiff or uncontrolled and chaotic. Details tended to just make things worse.

******

The Priests explain that only Priests are allowed to see the device - another gift from Savareon - that is used to create the hold water. In addition, holy water is only administered to followers of the faith.

******

Witta looked up at Iblion. She tried to speak, but no sound came. She weakly cleared her throat, and an extremely hoarse voice came.
"What caveats? What proof do I have that you will not just continue to torture her?"

Tyramon wrote:

Witta looked up at Iblion. She tried to speak, but no sound came. She weakly cleared her throat, and an extremely hoarse voice came.
"What caveats? What proof do I have that you will not just continue to torture her?"

Ophelia saw this, and instructed her to try and loosen up; let it flow and try using it as she would a pencil.

(Just want to say, I have no idea how to paint lol.)

******

The Aerlanicans sighed, but understood.

******

"I don't; you removed that chance of her not being tormented when you defied me the first time...now, everytime you refuse, i'll just make her torment worse and worse."

Iblion grasped the back of her neck.
"So...do you want me to torment her more? or will you finally accept?"

Aerlanica wrote:

-snip-

Kemptburge, Shingukai

"You do not want permanent nerve damage. You do not want to have a limp or some other disfigurement that will impair your actions and life permanently. Don't be brash and foolish because you cannot stand to let time pass. Take a breath and for a moment relax as much as you can. Loosen your muscles and let your body lay calmly in bed. Try and relax; too much stress is a sure-fire way of getting a heart attack when combined with an improper diet." Stated the doctor. "So, please relax."

------------------------------------

The cafeteria was housed in a building that adjoined the enormous brick main building of the hospital. With stark decoration and an obsessive degree of cleanliness, the most impressive part of the cafeteria was the lack of anything particularly impressive. The food was fairly average in terms of selection, albeit exceedingly high in quality. While seated in a fairly nondescript part of the cafeteria, Alena was approached by a figure with pale skin, a blue suit, and black sunglasses obscuring their eyes. They sat down across from her and gave a quick glance about the cafeteria before addressing Alena.

"Who I am isn't too relevant right now. All you need to know is that Spencer is still a wanted individual, perhaps more now than ever before. I may or may not have been involved in something which if made known to some certain very powerful individuals, would result in them attempting to hunt me down. Long story short, the same people who tried to kidnap Spencer prior times are likely to try and persuade him to their cause through other means. Be warned that at any moment that plan can turn out to be a trap with fatal repercussions."

Seversvik, Monsone

Andrea was alone again, Ta'lhqejk gone once more. Left to ponder her thoughts on her own, Andrea had taken the opportunity presented by the confused state of her mind, to walk mindlessly through the streets of old Seversvik. Amid the crowds of tourists, the old buildings and narrower streets of the city's core acted like a maze. It was the ideal place to lose oneself in thought.

She paid no heed to the buildings that surrounded her. Off the top of her head, she could rattle off every factoid and detail about them. Nor did she read the signs placed throughout the area marking points of interest, she already know each and every one of them. At every turn, Andrea found herself confronting knowledge she seemingly could not have, thoughts not her own yet imbued in her brain. It was seemingly a phenomenon of having two minds in one brain, and yet there was no other. Everything was a uniform and linear scheme that made cohesive sense and yet lacked all meaning.

Finally, she halted in front of a red brick church. With two distinct spires as part of the facade and a green copper roof, she could rattle off every bit of information regarding the church. And yet something about it truly piqued her interest. The bells tolled, calling the hour and with their rining, Andrea felt some clarity. Ta'lhqejk had been right, her mind did function differently, think differently, remember differently, and act differently. There was a difference, and it was clear. But how to break beyond the superficial and to reach the true power Ta'lhqejk had spoken of? That was a question Andrea would need to find the answer to.

Somewhere Else Entirely

A warm beach, sunny weather, and cold drinks. That was all Erich had desired and it was exactly what he had received. He had been hoping for an "off-grid" vacation where there wouldn't be any bothers or responsibilities, just non-stop partying with some good friends and old acquaintances. After a night-long party and then a morning nap, sitting by the crystal-clear sea with a cocktail in a coconut seemed like the ideal way to pass the rest of the afternoon and warm up for the night's party. It was also nice to have a moment of quiet while everybody else was off swimming or sunning themselves. The waves were rhythmic and mesmerizing.

Then, the voice of MK1a hopped into Erich's head, polluting his otherwise blissful vista. Jolted out of his vacation mindset and forced to deal with responsibilities, he grumbled while placing the still-full coconut onto a holder. Next to it were half a dozen empty coconuts, clearly, past drinks that Erich had either consumed in the course of the prior night, or during the course of the afternoon. After removing his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes, he got off the chair and simply sighed in disappointment. This was supposed to be his vacation after all, and now its peaceful perfection had been shattered. He then addressed MK1a.

"Yes, yes. I am fine with that kind of proposal. Now if you don't mind, I have a drink to finish and a party to prepare for."

With that, he climbed back onto the chair, coconut in hand, and once more resumed his distant gaze at the sea and it's horizon.

Aerlanica wrote:

Ophelia saw this, and instructed her to try and loosen up; let it flow and try using it as she would a pencil.

(Just want to say, I have no idea how to paint lol.)

******

The Aerlanicans sighed, but understood.

******

"I don't; you removed that chance of her not being tormented when you defied me the first time...now, everytime you refuse, i'll just make her torment worse and worse."

Iblion grasped the back of her neck.
"So...do you want me to torment her more? or will you finally accept?"

(I have some experience, but not much.)

Vara nodded, tried, and failed to "loosen up." Vara continued to struggle. Her attempts to loosen up resulted in more chaotic strokes but no improvement.

******

Some of the strangers ask if there were any more Aerlanicans on any other worlds.

******

Witta considered her options. Eventually, she sighed.
"Fine, I accept."
She picked up the collar, and with a momentary hesitation, clasped it around her own neck as tears fell from her face.

North South North West Kansas wrote:

Macy nestles her head against his shoulder and lets out a yawn. “Mmm, Guess I’m a little sleepy.”

Noelle smiles slightly. “Okay. I’ll go ahead and start filming now, you can start whenever you’re ready.”

Kira smiles. “I scored the best prize on Augusta.”

"Then sleep. In a few hours, I think we can bring Micheal here home." Thomas replied.

Kara nodded. She seemed nervous, despite her previous easygoing attitude.

"So did I."

Monsone wrote:

-snip-

Spencer sighed and slowly nodded.
"Ok...sorry."

He tried to settle in to relax, but didn't exactly do a good job of it. When your mot fearful enemy could appear at any moment, waltz in at anytime, and destroy everything he wished without a single obstacle standing in their way, it was hard to simply relax. Compounded with his general alertness and anxiety, he was simply a bundle of nerves firing a hundred times a second.

However Spencer did make an exerted effort to relax, as the doctor saw, and noticed that it possibly was having the opposite effect for a period of time. After a period of time, Spencer simply opened his book and obviously attempted to take his mind off of the environment.

"What are you reading?"

Spencer shrugged as he shakily adjusted his glasses once more.
"Just my book...it's got a lot of information in it...also some stories I like reading."

Dr. Mertegašte nodded and walked over to look over his shoulder; after all, showing interest in the book may allow him to build some rapport with Spencer and make the treatment go smoothly.

As he looked at the pages of the book, he saw runes, incomprehensible runes that shifted, melting into one another as ȶheʏ ʍovɛd ǟnd shuɖdɛʀeɖ wɨȶɦ an ɛֆƈօȶɛʀɨƈ ʍօȶɨօռ, ʟɨӄɛ ǟռ ʊռֆɦǟӄɨʟʏ ɮʀɛǟȶɦɨռɢ ɛռȶɨȶʏ ȶ̷͎͒ա̸͈͐ɨ̸͖̌ȶ̵̖͘ƈ̶̢́ɦ̵͊ͅɨ̸͒͜ռ̷̜̏ɢ̸̙͗ ǟռɖ զ̴̨͛ʊ̵̣͋ɨ̶̧̈́ʋ̸̖̍ɛ̴̯̒ʀ̴̼̆ɨ̵̃͜ռ̶͉̔ɢ̵̢̏ ̸͓͝, ȶɦɛ ա̵̭͘օ̴̺̽ʀ̸̘͐ʟ̵͓̕ֆ̷͕̓ ʀɛǟƈɦɛɖ օʊȶ, ɢ̷ʀ̵ǟ̸ֆ̴ք̸ɨ̸ռ̴ɢ̵ ̸ǟ̶ȶ̷ ̸ȶ̸ɦ̶ɛ̷ ̸ɛ̴ʏ̴ɛ̴ֆ̴ ̴օ̶ʄ̸ ̵ȶ̵ɦ̸ɛ̴ ̴ɖ̴օ̵ƈ̴ȶ̸օ̸ʀ̶ ̶ɮ̷ɛ̶ɢ̶ɢ̶ɨ̶ռ̶ɢ̴,̵ ̶ք̶ʟ̵ɛ̴ǟ̷ɖ̷ɨ̴ռ̵ɢ̷ ̶ȶ̶օ̵ ̵ɮ̵ɛ̶ ̷ʟ̵ɛ̵ȶ̶ ̷օ̷ʊ̵ȶ̸,̵ ̸ƈ̷ǟ̶ʟ̵ʟ̶ɨ̸ռ̷ɢ̷ ̷ȶ̴օ̴ ̴ȶ̴ɦ̶ɛ̴ʍ̸ ̴ǟ̴ռ̷ɖ̶ ̴ƈ̴ʀ̶ʏ̷ɨ̵ռ̷ɢ̸ ̵օ̴ʊ̶ȶ̶ ̴ʄ̵օ̴ʀ̷ ̷ɦ̸ɛ̷ʟ̶ք̴ ̵ք̶ʟ̷ɛ̵ǟ̶ֆ̶ɛ̴ ̸ɖ̵օ̵ռ̸'̴ȶ̷ ̵ʟ̶ɛ̴ǟ̸ʋ̸ɛ̵ ̵ʊ̴ֆ̶ ̴ʄ̴ʀ̴ɛ̷ɛ̷ ̸ʊ̷ֆ̷ ̶ɦ̷ɛ̵ʟ̶ք̷ ̸ʊ̶ֆ̷ ʋ̶օ̶ɨ̴ƈ̴ɛ̵ֆ̴ ̸ʄ̷ɨ̶ʟ̴ʟ̷ɛ̵ɖ̶ ̵ɦ̶ɨ̴ֆ̶ ̸ɛ̷ǟ̶ʀ̴ֆ̸ ̶ǟ̴ֆ̴ ̶ɦ̴ɨ̶ֆ̶ ̷ɛ̸ʏ̷ɛ̸ֆ̵ ̵ʀ̶ʊ̴ռ̷ɢ̶ ̶ǟ̷ռ̷ɖ̸ ̵ɛ̴ǟ̵ʀ̵ֆ̸ ̷ɮ̷ʊ̵ʀ̵ռ̷ȶ̸ ̵̩͓́̿͝ǟ̴̩͚̒̀͋ֆ̵͉̹̻̂̅͘ ̷̬͠ա̶͎̙̐͛̉ɛ̴̬̱̬̅̈́͂ ̴̛̖̟͒ɢ̵̹̀ʀ̵̻̌ǟ̷̪͠ֆ̶͉̕ք̵̡̽ɛ̶͕͘ɖ̵͎̏ ̵͕̃ǟ̵͓̔ȶ̷̹̔ ̸͕̅ɦ̴͙͋ɨ̷̺̋ʍ̸̘͊ ̵͖̈́ɮ̶̟̉ɛ̷͍͛ɢ̵̹̓ɢ̴͉͆ɨ̴̖̉ռ̷̧̂ɢ̸͇͂ ̴̗͊ȶ̷͙̆օ̶͈̍ ̷͚̔ɮ̸̣̀ɛ̷̍ͅ ̵͎͋ʟ̸̪͗ɛ̶̪̎ȶ̵̹̃ ̷̯͂ɢ̵̥͛օ̶̬̄ ̷̙̓ք̴̳̈́ʟ̴̳̾ɛ̶̱͋ǟ̷͉̓ֆ̴̼̈́ɛ̴̫̊ ̸͈̏ʟ̴̮͗ɛ̵̜̚ȶ̸̺͐ ̵̞̅ʊ̷̼̇ֆ̵̮̉ ̶̲̃ɢ̵̘̃օ̶̻̆ ̸̯̿ա̸̽͜ɨ̸̯͌ȶ̵̜͝ɦ̵̭̓ ̷̨̀ʏ̵̝͐օ̵̻̈́ʊ̶͕̾ ̴̢̿ք̴͍̄ʟ̶̝̀ɛ̸̜͘ǟ̶̞̌ֆ̴̃ͅɛ̷̜͐

ȶ̵ɦ̴ɛ̴ ̷ɖ̴օ̷ƈ̵ȶ̷օ̵ʀ̷ ̸ȶ̶ʀ̸ɨ̷ɛ̷ɖ̴ ̸ȶ̴օ̸ ̷ֆ̵ɛ̸ք̴ǟ̶ʀ̷ǟ̴ȶ̵ɛ̴ ̵ʄ̴ʀ̶օ̸ʍ̵ ̴ʊ̵ֆ̵,̸ ̷ȶ̶ʀ̶ʏ̴ ̶ȶ̴օ̴ ̸ʄ̵ʀ̵ɛ̷ɛ̶ ̸ʊ̸ֆ̷ ̷ռ̸օ̵ ɖ̵̥̀օ̶̖̌ռ̴̜̕'̸̜̄ȶ̶̢̈́ ̵̻̽ʟ̵͔̐ɛ̴̙͝ǟ̸̭̏ʋ̸̞̍ɛ̴̲͝ ̴̲̒Đ̶̮̾Ø̴̪̇₦̸͙̈́'̷̳̍₮̶̝̊ ̷̟̿Ⱡ̵̀͜Ɇ̸̲̏₳̴͎͒Ṽ̵͖Ɇ̶̢̏ ̸̣͑₱̸̀͜Ⱡ̶̢̌Ɇ̶̧͘₳̴̣̂₴̴͉̕Ɇ̴͓͊ ̷̺̎₥̶̗̾₳̸̗̈́₭̷̢̽Ɇ̴̲͠ ̷̼͌ł̶͓͆₮̴̢́ ̷̱͝₴̴̺͌₮̴̛̩Ø̵̺̎₱̵̺̍ ̷̮͗₥̶̹͂₳̸̗̈́₭̷̋͜Ɇ̵̗͝ ̷̼̓ł̷͈̊₮̶͚͘ ̷̱̓₴̵̫͝₮̶̕ͅØ̵̛͔₱̷͎͊ ̴̦͋₥̴̘́₳̷̣͌₭̴̝͒Ɇ̶̗͑ ̵̢̋ł̷̮̉₮̸̬̌₴̵̲͊₮̴͔͍̒͝Ø̶̻̩͂₱̸̙͔̠͆̚ ̶̳̾₥̶̱̏̈₳̴̰͙͕͊₭̸̲̑͝Ɇ̶̙̻̫̇̿̕ ̸͎͋͜ł̸̝̙̬̅̿͐₮̸̓̑̿͜ ̶̢̳̺̅₴̶̨̖̲̈́̿₮̷̻̜̑̅͝Ø̸̮̞̖͠₱̵͍͈͛͊͜!̶̰̟̲̑ ̸̛̠̂͝₴̶͎̄₮̶̤̎̑Ø̵̰̋͜₱̴̨̳̏̈̒!̶̹͙̓͜ ̷̥̈

"Sir? Are you alright?"

Like a knife peircing the endless sea of ֆ̶̨̭̮̝̊͛ͅօ̵̡̮͎̱̏̇̇̎̌̇ͅʊ̸̟̞̜͆̀̕͠ʟ̵̙̺̺̦̩͖̗̆͊̓͗ֆ̴͖̳̮͈̘̋́̄ ̸͎͖̌̾̽͌̕̕ɮ̸̛̺̙̖̮̇͛̊̂̋̆ɛ̴̩̥̤͈̓͘ȶ̵̆̊͆ͅա̶̢̺̣͔̭̰̣͂̊̃̈́̌ɛ̷̡̹͚̍͊ͅɛ̷̡̭̠͇̪͔̀̈́ ̴̪͒͐͊̆̈́̍͂ք̷̄͗ͅǟ̶͓̾͑͐ɢ̶͙̣̞̪͕̭̞̆̎̎̋͂͑ɛ̷̞̯̏̓́̓͛̈̂ֆ̴̢̣͗͊̓͗̓̎̑-

No...no...his mind shunted what he had just seen deep into his subconscious, hopefully never to be seen again. But as the...whatever they were, left his sight, the Doctor found himself on the floor, breathing heavily as he gazed at the floor. He shook his head as he shakily got to his feet. His head throbbed with pain as a headache set in.

He glanced to the book in Spencer's hands, which was currently closed.

"Do...do you...I mean it's not that bad of a drawing is it?"

As Spencer showed the book to the doctor, he winced instinctually, expecting his mind to be asailed by...them...but instead it showed a picture of a bird upon a knights shoulder, with what appeared to be a narrative accompanying it, written in Augustan.

"Are you ok?" Spencer asked.

******

Alena, tired, took a long drink of her coffee. She frowned, and sighed.
"And so the already complex web tangles evermore incoherently."

Alena slowly shook her head.
"I will be upfront with you...I'm still coming to terms with my current...lack of power. Ever since Azerian has vanished somewhere I have been increasingly powerless to stand tall against the foes who seek to inflict ruin upon this world...I myself had to deal with many of my close colleagues simply being wiped out as our order was shattered into hundreds of fragments."

She idly turned her coffee around in her hands, looking down at it.
"I..." she laughed darkly, "I fear as though if this trap you speak of, if sprung, will result in a very difficult situation where I will have to take a drastic action to preserve Spencer's wellbeing...and while I am more than happy to breathe my last breath in noble service of Azerian's will...there is a slight caveat to such an action."

Alena gazed to the entity across from her.
"Spencer will have no dedicated protector."

She paused.
"In my prime, I would have been able to see through any lie you could tell, and know your full and true intentions. Here, I am flying much more blindly than I would...and thus, I risk asking this of you, if indeed your intentions are warped and corrupt.

"If I am to die, to protect Spencer, I ask that you pick up the torch and carry it until such a time when he is in full health. Whether he is used in half-breed celestial, titanic robot or some other medium of power...keep him safe, and ensure all actions are his own, and all actions he makes are in clear and unafflicted mind."

"If you truly care for the boy, you will ensure neither Monsone, Aerlanica or Roxium use him as a puppet; he is his own entity, and while it is cruel that his childhood was stripped from him so early on in his life...help him at least be a man for a few moments...and care for him as I have done."

******

CEVA-00 MK1a hastily withdrew from Erich, not wanting to bother him.

Tyramon wrote:

-snip-

(Hey, you're still better than me.)

Ophelia saw this and simply stated she understood; it takes time and effort, she says, to learn how to paint, and told her not to be crestfallen if she didn't get it perfect the first time. Occasionally she would walk around, demonstrating how to move the brush, and occasionally even grasping the arms and moving them herself to give some semblance of an idea with how it should be done.

******

They shrug, unaware of the mountain planet, or the farming planet. They comment that they believe they may be the last ones alive.

******

Iblion smiled.
"Good girl." He murmured sadistically.

He reached down and gave the collar an aggressive tug, before running a finger down the side. Witta felt a spike of heat before it cooled.

Iblion then created a cup of water and handed it to her, still holding her collar with one hand.
"Drink up, pet." He said.

Tyramon wrote:

Aerlanica

Still, Corali feels as though something is not quite right. She can tell that the food is very well-made, but she isn't sure that it is what she wants. But, out of politeness, she says nothing and continues to eat the rest of the meal.

Luca doesn’t seem to notice anything with Corali on that end, and the group quietly finishes their breakfast, with Kenji sharing some of his with Eastrid. Once they’ve finished eating, Luca asks Corali what she thought.

Aerlanica wrote:

William let out a little chuckle.
"Well, I guess if the Protector of Kansas is endorsing my actions...I suppose i'll double my efforts."

He gave her a polite bow.

Carissa smiles and walks away.

Rei Khan wrote:

"Then sleep. In a few hours, I think we can bring Micheal here home." Thomas replied.

Kara nodded. She seemed nervous, despite her previous easygoing attitude.

"So did I."

Macy smiles sleepily as her dad comes over to sit on the other side of the small hospital bed next to Macy, gently stroking her hair. “Sleep, Mace. We’ve got you.”
Macy nods and closes her eyes, slowly falling asleep surrounded by the three men she loves most in the world.

Noelle flashes a little smile. “Go ahead! Just be yourself, you’ll do great.” She turns on the camera and starts filming.

Kira blushes lightly. “Guess we both got lucky.”

Aerlanica wrote:

(Hey, you're still better than me.)

Ophelia saw this and simply stated she understood; it takes time and effort, she says, to learn how to paint, and told her not to be crestfallen if she didn't get it perfect the first time. Occasionally she would walk around, demonstrating how to move the brush, and occasionally even grasping the arms and moving them herself to give some semblance of an idea with how it should be done.

******

They shrug, unaware of the mountain planet, or the farming planet. They comment that they believe they may be the last ones alive.

******

Iblion smiled.
"Good girl." He murmured sadistically.

He reached down and gave the collar an aggressive tug, before running a finger down the side. Witta felt a spike of heat before it cooled.

Iblion then created a cup of water and handed it to her, still holding her collar with one hand.
"Drink up, pet." He said.

The end result on Vara's canvas was a poor-quality imitation of Ophelia's masterpiece. The scale and sizing were off, the perspective made no sense, the lighting was unrealistic, and the details were splotchy.

******

Finally, the last of the Aerlanicans are rescued from New Grendel. Many had died in wait for the strangers despite the ships leaving to rescue the Aerlanicans as soon as the news of the Aerlanicans reached command. However, now the strangers began to talk of having to evacuate the Aerlanicans again, as "the war" would soon be reaching the planet they were currently on.

******

Witta began to drink desperately, her mouth dry as sandpaper.

North South North West Kansas wrote:

Luca doesn’t seem to notice anything with Corali on that end, and the group quietly finishes their breakfast, with Kenji sharing some of his with Eastrid. Once they’ve finished eating, Luca asks Corali what she thought.

Corali nods and says it was good. She doesn't mention her slight discontentedness.