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A low, mournful tune can be heard - only by Anshera - echoing off the ribbed walls of the docking hub. The tune is faint, scattered, as if passing intermittently through a field of interference. It's a sound akin to having a battery-powered radio tuned to a distant station and stuck in a cotton-stuffed pocket.
Virvril wanders into the docking hub from the tradeport, his pace slow as he has no where in particular to go. Spotting others nearby, he wanders in their direction, if only to get a sense if anything interesting is going on.
Volidana nods "There probably is she concedes easily enough" I need to go check and see that my son has finished his dinner. I'll be back shortly
It is the song that prompts the appearance of Anshera from within a haphazardly stacked pile of crates one could ostenably believe was some sort of sekret hideout. A crate fort, if you will. Obviously one of the suckier dockworkers made it for her, the child too small and weak to move them herself. Up to the top of the pile the fey girl goes, standing on the top crate to survey the area. A mere hint of curiosity shows in her eyes, head occassionally canting this way or that before she pauses to listen again.
James Owens walks into the docking hub with a cup of coffee in one hand and looks around to see what is happening. He raises his free hand to wave to Volidana but she turns away before he can. He shrugs and wanders in that direction then waves to Anshera in greeting whilesipping his coffee and after he swallows he looks around for signs of Gummy
Razorback steps out of his wreck, pausing to scent the air as he looks around the docking hub.
"Of course," Suns rasps as Volidana moves away. He checks his satchel and pulls out his PDA, in preparation to write a note but pauses as he sees Anshera's climb up the pile of crates. One eye looks over to Razorback and he asks, "Is that part of your shipment?"
The song grows in clarity for Anshera, but still seems rather diffuse - like sunlight seen through a wall of waving gauze curtains. It is a wordless tune, half-whistle and half-hum.
Virvril wanders up near where Razorback is emerging from his ship, pausing to offer a nod of greeting.
Too distracted by the ethereal song, Anshera fails to notice James' waving. As the tune becomes a bit more clear she partially turns left, head canting once more before, after a moment of listening, she begins to sing along. Quietly at first.
James Owens shrugs as Anshera ignores his wave and takes another sip of coffee before waving to Razorback. Then he hears something that sounds like very soft singing and glances towards the source finding Anshera.
Razorback does a bit of a doubletake at the sight of the Nall, but offers a respectful nod in response nonetheless. He spots James Owens, repeating the gesture for the humanoid as he makes his way down onto the tarmac, apparently oblivious to whatever it is Anshera is hearing.
As Anshera starts singing, the mysterious song that she has heard fades into stillness until it is lost to the usual chatter and thrum of the docking hub aboard Comorro Station.
Suns's eyes fixate upon Anshera as she starts to sing. "Ah it is a performance," he rasps appreciably, lapsing into silence as he moves closer to hear the sound. He moves in a mix of sideways and forward to sidestep the ever growing crowd.
Virvril remains oblivious as well, turning to look up to Razorback. "Asssss nice an evening assss one can asssssk for thesssse daysssss."
Possessed by the desire to continue even after the song fades from her hearing, Anshera does not cease singing, her voice growing in volume. A few minutes after the duet had become a solo again, the little fey begins to dance as well in a simple, elegant manner, restricted by the surface area of the crate.
A greenish-blue orb drifts along through the hub, but slows and then stops upon hearing the tune sung by Anshera. It arcs toward her, hovering about three feet away as it bobs slowly in the air. After several contemplative seconds, the voice of Comorro's avatar commands: "You will be SILENT."
James Owens is enjoying the song at least until the orb interferes. He glances towards the orb harshly "If her singing bothers you that much you can either return to your ship or find another area to wait. The rest of us are enjoying it and I at least don't appreciate interuptions to what few shows I get to see."
"If I am not misstaken, Missterrr Owens," Razorback says, his attention garnered by the voice of the orb, "That _is_ a sship. The one on which you arrre sstanding." He nods in vague agreement with Virvril, though he seems preoccupied with the mild confrontation.
Virvril snaps his head towards the orb, his drop dropping and a sharp hiss of surprise coming out. "Indeed... I would not tempt fate by pisssssing off the one being around here who would not think twice about adding you to her menu. Let usssss sssssee if ssssshe offersssss explanation for her admonition."
"Perhaps you could sing at another venue?" Suns rasps, looking towards Anshera as she stands at the top of the pile of crates, "We would welcome a good singer on Svajone, even if it was for a limited time."
For a few minutes it would seem Anshera plans on ignoring Comorro until her dance slows, then stops, voice fading to nothingness. A long moment passes as she stares at the orb, then quietly she asks, "You would deny the song of the dead?"
The orb bobs in the air, silent for several seconds, and then responds: "Yes." One word, weighted by a tone that mixes anger and sorrow in even measure. With that, the orb drifts away.
James Owens glances towards Razorback and Virvril with a look of surprise in his eyes "The ship we are on is, oh what's the term, a music critic?" His tone disbelieving.
Razorback raises an eyeridge at the exchange between Anshera and the orb. "Ssomething is wrrrong," he says to the two nearby, "That is the firrrsst time I have sseen Comorrrrrro interrrferrre in ssomething like that."
Virvril nods to Razorback. "Agreed... sssssshe hasssss often been quite willing to ssssstate her opinionssssss.... thissss....sssssilence is curiousssss."
Suns steps back a pace and glances back up to the top of the crates with both eyes, "On reconsideration, I may want to retract my offer." He hesitates and chirrps, "My apologies, but until I know the significance of your music, I would not want to offend anyone's appetite for it."
"You should not." Anshera calls after Comorro, "It is all around, wishing to be released." The girl gestures around the hub loosely, "It shall remain eternally, angering and harming you until you allow what needs to be done to happen." A child medium? It would seem to be the case.
James Owens watches the globe float away then glances towards Razorback and Virvril "So we have a ship that's become a music critic suddenly and she is usually open with her opinions but isn't talking about this. Am I the only one who has a very bad feeling about this?" His gaze turns tp Anshera next since she seems to know more then anyone else here besides Comorro herself.
With the orb's departure and Anshera's cessation of song, the mostly unheard tune resumes. Several other "voices" join for a combination that sounds like a blend of gentle sobbing and pale hooting through ancient fog. The song's clarity is greater than before to Anshera's perception. Stronger, but no less sorrowful.
"No," Razorback tells James, frowning tightly, shaking his head, "No you arrre not. Ssomething is not rrright." His tail twitches in agitation as he looks about the docking hub, ears flattening in foreboding.
Virvril nods. "Yessss....thissss issss rather dissssturbing." he says, his tail starting to tap slightly against the deck, a soft hiss escaping his maw every so often.
Volidana reappears on the artemis' ramp eyes searching
Suns's eyes glint as they look about the docking hub, but he does not see anything out of the ordinary for the most part. Still, the general muttering of the crowd that followed the announcement is hard to ignore! Suns tilts his head and listens in briefly before moving closer.
A shuttle comes in to land -- pretty par for the course, really, just one of hundreds of shuttles that land on any given day. Out of this particular one emerges an orange and white furred Demarian, absently fiddling with a PDA. Swiftfoot offers a distracted wave over her shoulder at the shuttle pilot as she disembarks and pads down the ramp.
Looking up towards the ceiling as the ethereal sounds begin again, amplified, clarified and added to, Anshera listens for several minutes, "There are more." She murmurs to herself, though at a volume heard easily enough by those nearest where she stands atop the pile of crates. A faint sigh, then she addresses the ship again, "They will hurt you, and you will hurt them on and on, over and over until there comes a point where sorrow will turn to rage. Nothing will be left, save that one, burning emotion and you will surely no longer be able to ignore it."
James Owens replies "I'm glad we all seem to be in agreement though I wish we could be agreeing about something more pleasent." He notices Volidana out of the cornor of his eye and waves to her. He turns to Anshera "Would you mind telling the rest of us who they are Anshera?"
Anshera should soon be able to discern seven distinct sources of the song as wavering orbs of shifting hues, adrift within niches between the ribs of the great docking chamber.
Razorback glances over at the diminuitive humanoid girl, frowning a bit before turning towards James and Virvril. His nostrils twitch a bit as a familiar scent gets his attention. The Cliffwalker glances towards the shuttles and begins to head that way. "Excuse me," he says to the others. He spots Swiftfoot in the crowd and heads her way, smiling a bit, despite the melancholy mood that had previously been on him. He comes to an abrupt halt, however, upon coming close enough to see her coat. His brow lowers a bit, a silent question forming on his muzzled face.
"I wissssssh I knew what it wasssss we were agreeing /on/." Virvril says. "It sssssseemssss that one can hear what we can not, and whatever it issssss... it sssssseemsssss Comorro disssslikes it."
Suns looks back up to the top of the crate and calls out a warning. "If it is us you are talking to, we do not mean any harm to the ship." Suns chirrps in a high tone, "but if you are hearing someone else who is not here, be careful." He looks towards the tradeport and rasps, "The last time this happened things got very dangerous, there may be others about in hiding."
Volidana notes james' wave and heads in his direction with a questioning look as she notes Anshera's position on the crate
Swiftfoot is mostly absorbed in the PDA yet, scratching behind her ears with one paw while the device rests in the other. She's still headed generally Razor's way, however. After a few moments, she does look up, apparently having caught his scent. Her head tilts slightly at his questioning expression, one ear laying back thoughtfully as she gives a greeting flick of her tail.
"They have not told One who they are." Anshera offers to James, evidently expecting this to serve as an answer to Suns as well as she doesn't directly reply to the Yhdari. A look around the hub shows her those orbs, the little fey hopping down the crates until she's standing directly in front of Virvril, and near both Suns and James, "Come, please." She offers ambiguously to the trio, with the rarerity of such polite inquiry added onto all of this unusualness, "One shan't be able to reach on her own."
"It seems to me, that no matter how many drinks you've had, you can never really justify this station." Are the first, and perhaps less thought out than it appears, words of Rose as she enters the scene, tail flicking idly behind her. She appears, carrying her usual bundle of dataslates, pen tucked behind her ear as she moves with the crowd from the Tradeport.
"I wasssss never one to ssssshy away from the unknown, but if I may asssssk... what are we trying to reach?" Virvril inquires.
James Owens nods to Virvril then adds "And she doesn't want to talk about it. Whatever it is." then returns his attention to Anshera when she asks him to follow her and turns to face the direction she is looking in ready to go.
The Cliffwalker, almost absently, bows towards Swiftfoot. "You have taken employment with Ssvajone," he states rather than asks, his ears a bit wilted, "That, I did not forrressee."
Suns orients himself and follows to where Anshera is standing, "How will we know when we have found it then?"
Swiftfoot blinks at Razor, then looks down at her own clothes. "Oh. Yes," she replies, nodding in agreement. "I was frreelancing forr them, locating planets..." A shrug is offered. "Misterr Mikage called me into his office and asked if... well, he asked if I would be willing to captain an explorration vessel." Her ears flatten back slightly, and she rubs a paw between them as she looks away. "I should have told you soonerr," is offered sheepishly, along with an uneasy flick of her tail. As she looks away, however, she happens to look right at the group around Shera, one eyeridge rising curiously.
"One can see them." 'Shera states simply to Suns, then looking to Virvril to answer his question, "To describe their appearance would be meaningless. They are the dead, and they are sorrowful." A turn, then the child heads off in the direction of the nearest orb.
As Anshera approaches the niche, six of the voices fade in deference to the orb that floats before her. The tune it performs shifts to something more trepidatious, a staccato of uncertainty.
Volidana comes to stand next to James peering where anshera looks "We can not see what you can" she says simply "they need more direction if we are to aid you
Virvril contemplates that response, but steeling himself, he heads off after Anshera, towards that which he can not see.
The sky blue felinoid, Rose, makes her way deeper into the docking hub, picking her way more by chance than by purpose to where Swiftfoot and Razor talk. Her ears fold against her head and she sits on a nearby crate, setting her dataslates beside her.
"I ssee," Razorback says quietly, casting a glance back towards the medium before turning back towards the other Demarian. "You do rrrealize that you arrre aiding him in cassting the tentacles of his abssolute rrrule furrrtherrr," the Cliffwalker says, his brow furrrowed deeply, "I am ssorrrrrry to hearrr that."
Suns's eyes dart about as they study the ceiling and walls as the Ydahri follows along, "Let us see if we can find them this time then."
James Owens follows the group before asking "How far off the ground are they?" as he glances towards the ceiling.
"What I rrealize is that he offerred me a captaincy and a ship to go with it," Swiftfoot says, shrugging vaguely. "In my time on the station, I've spent time watching the people therre. They arre happy. They arre safe, and they arre well carred forr." She lays an ear back thoughtfully. "...We can speak about it morre in depth laterr," she offers then, shaking her head. "It's prrobably best not discussed in the docking hub in frront of the entirre station."
"You have not sseen what I have, then," Razorback tells Swiftfoot, "But you arrre rrright." He rubs his forehead a bit, turning towards the goings on nearby.
For a moment Anshera stares at the orb, then in a quiet voice murmurs what seem soothing words though the language is fey and heart-wrenchingly beautiful - too quiet to be made out with Comorro's translators, if they can. Turning, she looks to each with her, then points to Volidana, "Taller than her." Then past Dana she looks a moment before pointing towards Razorback, "One would say that his height is closest."
Volidana hms "I could stand on a supply crate and you can stand on my shoulder or I can go over and get razor to help but I would be careful. They may wish to harm you
James Owens winces as he ponders the possibilty of an enemy he can't see and how to fight such a thing if worse came to worse.
Rose scribbles notes down on a dataslate and pats her pockets. She quickly retrieves a small flask which she drinks from before replacing it. "It's going to be one of those days.." The journalist in training states to no-one but herself. She thinks for a moment and shrugs. "It's always one of those days."
Suns sidesteps Anshera and looks up at the space above her head. "Are you sure this is the place? It seems much like any other." He tilts his head, "It is not even particularly loud."
Virvril watches the curious exchange as Ansera converses with what he perceives to be shadows and waits.
Swiftfoot looks for Anshera to Razor, and chuffs quietly, her ears flicking. "I think you've been selected," she observes. "Forr what, I'm as yet unsurre." Either way, she attempts to herd him toward the scary little devil-girl from the land of the dead.
Seeing the tiny finger pointing in his direction, the Cliffwalker raises an eyeridge. "Sso it would sseem," he says, "Well, I ssuppose therrre is only one way to find out." He allows himself to be herded, nodding to those present. "Might I assk what is going on?" he asks.
Suns ' look turns cloudy as he steps closer, "Has she survived? /Jsssp!/ We are fortunate." He rasps, "I still do not know if my opinions are my own, but I think it would be a good idea to move her to the medical clinic? Wouldn't it?
There is some hesitation, but Razorback puts a paw gently on Swiftfoot's shoulder, watching her interact with the child as he waits for Anshera to recover. "I do not think sshe is injurrred, merrrely tirrred," he says to Suns, "As sshe rrregains consscioussnessss, we sshall ssee if sshe rrrequirrres medical carrre."
James Owens nods in agreement "I know." he replies gently then pauses as Suns and Razorback offer their suggustions "I agree with Razorback unless something happens that shows something else is wrong we should ask her what she wants first."
"One does not require such aid." Anshera speaks finally, her voice a quiet, almost hoarse whisper. A subtle press of cheek is initiated against Swiftfoot's paw, perhaps a silent show of affection or gratitude, though both those are practically unheard of from the fey girl. Certainly something to be left up to the female Demarian's interpretation.
"It is good to know we are not all left thinking the same thing," Suns rasps after a bit, giving up on the idea of medical assistance. "But then we saw the same things, did we not? Now that we have involved ourselves in such a fashion, what should we do next?"
Swiftfoot places her paw atop Shera's head briefly when she's done wiping the tears away, one of her ears finally shifting forward. "I don't know what to make of it," she admits, looking over to Razorback. "At all." There's a vague shrug given as she shifts her attention to Suns.
"What do we do?" the Cliffwalker asks, "We leave with a betterrr underrrsstanding of our benefactress." He gestures around towards the vessel surrounding the group. "Beyond that," he continues, "Therrre is little to do. The crrrimes we ssaw perrrpetrrrated arrre long ssinsce committed. Nothing we can do will brrring Comorrrrrro's childrrren back to herrr, but at the verrry leasst, we can underrrsstand with herrr ssacrrrifisce. It may be why sshe has given uss ssuccourrr these monthss." He looks down to Anshera, studying her. "How do you feel?" he asks, his voice more gentle than one would normally expect given their previous interactions.
"One wishes to be carried still, please." Anshera asks in the same whispering tone and volume, either unable to describe feelings foreign to her, or unwilling to expound upon her current weakness it would seem. In actuality it's a combination of the two. One tiny hand comes up slowly to grasp feebly at Swiftfoot's paw as it draws away from the pat delivered to the fey child's head.
James Owens stands near the group before asking "Yeah but what about thechild that still lives? Is she going to have to hunt it down, is she hoping we can save her from having to do so somehow?"
"...He has a point," Swiftfoot muses quietly. Her tail flicks erratically a couple of times, as if she were unsure of something, as her paw stays *just* out of Shera's grasp. Finally, she places the paw back onto the girl's head, smoothing her hair gently back away from her face. Her brow furrows briefly, almost as if in concentration. Mostly, though, she seems faintly wistful.
Razorback's eyes remain on Swiftfoot and her ministrations to Anshera, the lips of his muzzle pressed tightly together until he speaks. "Comorrrrrro did not ssend uss thiss messssage," he says, "Herrr childrrren did. Comorrrrrro does not wissh to rrrememberrr thiss. As to the rrremaining child ... we do not have the rrressourrrsces to sseek it out. If it is a thrrreat, it will sshow itsself."
James Owens responds "Oh great and something tells me that we probably can't stop the sending of the message which can't be a good sign."
Suns' eyes look around the docking bay, "It may have been unintentional to have shown us what we saw. And it is true that Comoro did not ask for us to find it." He pauses for a moment, "It is unsettling to think though that our travels all this time may have been a search pattern."
The child remains quiet for a while as Swiftfoot smooths over her hair once more, an action she seems to enjoy, "There is no message to further dread." Anshera tells to James after having listened to the 'adults' speak for long enough, "Her children have shown us their heartache and hers. They have gained the release they sought, and there is aught to otherwise do. The past is too distant." The hand that reached for Swiftfoot's paw reaches again, giving a brief touch to her wrist, soft as it momentarily ruffles the fur there. Her other hand also raises, though very little, only to come to rest against the arm supporting her weight.
Swiftfoot's ears shift back, then forward again. Her fur's smoothed down a bit by now, but she's clearly still somewhat unseated by the proceedings. "I did not know of herr pain," the ginger female murmurs, her brow furrowing again. "I wonderr how long she has been living with it." Her tail flicks again, and her paw stays on Shera's hair as she falls quiet.
"Scenturrries, likely," Razorback says in answer to Swiftfoot's question. He nods to Anshera. "And if the lasst child rrreturrrns," he says, "We sshall deal with it then."
James Owens nods in agreement "Hopefully the last child will either stay away or even better find a way to free itself from whatever was done to it to control it."
Suns says, "Yes, if it makes its presence known perhaps there is something that can be done." He tilts his head and rasps, "But it is a relief to know that we will no longer have any problems of this type hanging in the docking bay. /Jsssp!/ I have gone cloudy and should find some place to soak."
Anshera once more falls into silence, just listening to the others discuss amongst themselves. A glance upwards is given to Swiftfoot, albeit her vision of the Demarian is limited as she keeps her head still, not wishing to dislodge the paw resting there.
"...If not longerr," Swiftfoot agrees, nodding at Razorback." She pauses, her snout wrinkling. "I should rrun along to what it was that I came herre forr," she says, giving a slight sigh before she peers down at the child. "Arre you alrright?" Razorback's ears wilt now and he falls silent, glancing from one speaker to another.
James Owens nods in agreement with Suns though he muses aloud "I wonder why the song started now though, or hit a new level at least."
"I do not have an answer to that," Suns says, "Perhaps, it may have been here for a long time before it was touched? I have not walked in every corner of the docking bay, but you cannot say what you will find in the ducts on any given day."
"One is quite tired. She has na'er been this tired before." Anshera replies to Swiftfoot, the admission quite grudging, even through her quiet tone. To the rest of the speculation, she either has no answer or simply does not wish to chime in as she remains silent on the subject.
Swiftfoot nods in agreement with Shera. "You should rrest then," she replies. "I don't underrstand what happened, but I don't doubt that it would wearr yourr body out." She chuffs quietly, and tilts her head at the little girl. "We can take you to the shelterr to sleep, if you like."