[It's a letter, on ricepaper, with neat brush-ink calligraphy, folded neatly and sealed with something that is not quite wax, a black circle with a red fox silhouette, left beside his door.]
Mr. Elias Bouchard,
I would like to invite you to 5-13 this afternoon for tea. I have an ulterior motive: while Eiffel may have the worst information security of anyone I have ever met, sometimes his sheer volume of allusions and conversational meanders are so utterly impenetrable that he circles right back around to being unilluminating. Therefore, I think it may be best to put my questions to you directly.
Only yourself. And do let me know if you prefer green, white, or black teas.
[When he arrives at the door, it's rounded at the top, with sliding airtight panels instead of hinges, but with none of the clunky utilitarianism of early Earth-based spacecraft. Instead, it's made of a glossy unidentifiable metamaterial, creamy off-white with a faint nacreous luster, and decorated with playful filigree gold foxes gamboling through a minimalist landscape of oversized daffodils and heaps of boulder-like knucklebone dice, like a surreal embroidered wall-hanging. By the standards of the Heptarchate-Hexarchate-now-Compact, this qualifies as tastefully restrained.
The door slides open to reveal a neat, compact apartment in transparently calming shades of tranquil green, and a small sitting area with pale wood furniture and Jedao's standard-issue Shuos red and gold tea set on the low table.]
[ elias' preference is for black teas, but really he enjoys them all ]
[ he takes in jedao's cabin with interest. he's fascinated, as he always is, to see inside someone else's cabin-- especially someone who isn't from his world. ]
It's my pleasure, of course. I must say your message had me quite curious.
[It's an odd combination of deliberately, aesthetically low-tech and subtly, elegantly high-tech, even clarketech. It's unclear where the soft near-full-spectrum light is coming from; there are panels on the wall that blend in almost perfectly with the abstract dappled greens but could become grid stations at need. There's an efficiency to the layout that suggests space was limited, or that these are standard accommodations for someone not particularly high ranking - or in fact both. Jedao keeps it both very neat and very clean; the only signs of personality are a stack of library books, mostly Earth philosophy and history, beneath the table, and a handful of what look like futuristic protein bars in a leaf-like bowl on the side table next to the sofa. The labels are in an alphabet which resembles, but isn't, Hangul.
Jedao motions for them to sit and pours for each of them.]
I suppose it would be bad manners to leave you in suspense, then.
To be very blunt, I'm interested in what you're capable of. If I asked you to give me a memory, which one would you pick?
[ Elias pauses a moment, evaluating whether that seems genuine. He has no issue with the idea of it. It's simply-- a very strange request ]
It's quite simple really. I place the memory of an experience in your mind, and you'll know it. I can share the actual sensation of it as well, and back home I'd have been able to imprint so deeply that for the rest of your life you wouldn't have been able to go more than a few moments without thinking of it.
[ He raises his shoulders in a small shrug, suggesting it's a shame he can't do that here ]
Why aren't all worlds like that? Fear is an integral part of the human existence-- the world I'm from simply happens to have entities which feed on it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
*cries* backdated to a few days before the message and everything
Mr. Elias Bouchard,
I would like to invite you to 5-13 this afternoon for tea. I have an ulterior motive: while Eiffel may have the worst information security of anyone I have ever met, sometimes his sheer volume of allusions and conversational meanders are so utterly impenetrable that he circles right back around to being unilluminating. Therefore, I think it may be best to put my questions to you directly.
From Every Spark a Fire,
Jedao
no subject
Dear Mr. Jedao
I would be delighted to attend. Please let me know if there's anything you'd like me to bring.
Yours,
E. Bouchard.
[ and he's there at 5-3 at the agreed time, knocking on the door, and very curious as to what this is about ]
no subject
Only yourself. And do let me know if you prefer green, white, or black teas.
[When he arrives at the door, it's rounded at the top, with sliding airtight panels instead of hinges, but with none of the clunky utilitarianism of early Earth-based spacecraft. Instead, it's made of a glossy unidentifiable metamaterial, creamy off-white with a faint nacreous luster, and decorated with playful filigree gold foxes gamboling through a minimalist landscape of oversized daffodils and heaps of boulder-like knucklebone dice, like a surreal embroidered wall-hanging. By the standards of the Heptarchate-Hexarchate-now-Compact, this qualifies as tastefully restrained.
The door slides open to reveal a neat, compact apartment in transparently calming shades of tranquil green, and a small sitting area with pale wood furniture and Jedao's standard-issue Shuos red and gold tea set on the low table.]
Welcome, please come in.
no subject
[ he takes in jedao's cabin with interest. he's fascinated, as he always is, to see inside someone else's cabin-- especially someone who isn't from his world. ]
It's my pleasure, of course. I must say your message had me quite curious.
no subject
Jedao motions for them to sit and pours for each of them.]
I suppose it would be bad manners to leave you in suspense, then.
To be very blunt, I'm interested in what you're capable of. If I asked you to give me a memory, which one would you pick?
no subject
Ah, well. I expect I can be clearer than Eiffel has likely been. And as to the memory-- I suppose I would ask why you wanted one.
no subject
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It's quite simple really. I place the memory of an experience in your mind, and you'll know it. I can share the actual sensation of it as well, and back home I'd have been able to imprint so deeply that for the rest of your life you wouldn't have been able to go more than a few moments without thinking of it.
[ He raises his shoulders in a small shrug, suggesting it's a shame he can't do that here ]
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[ Jedao please ]
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You don't think so?
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[He's genuinely curious about Elias's perspective.]
Isn't the whole point of your ability that when we remember something, in some way, we experience it? Anew, or - in this case, fresh?
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[ it's really quite simple ]
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To feed my patron.
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Why?
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[It's a little different, every time he says it. This time there's an edge to it, something subtle and sad and knowing.]
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[ he's not going to keep playing the why game like this ]
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Well, it's a bit unambitious. But I meant, why is it like that?
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Why aren't all worlds like that? Fear is an integral part of the human existence-- the world I'm from simply happens to have entities which feed on it.
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