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--- campaign:carve:2023-09-12 [2023/09/12 22:54] – pinkgothic
+++ campaign:carve:2023-09-12 [2023/10/31 22:16] (current) – pinkgothic
@@ Line 29: / Line 29: @@
 **pinkgothic**:
-"Do you know anything at all about Neiphil, [[https://carve.thorngale.net/location/earth/euryalia|Euryalia]]?" he asked, answering the question by asking another. His right hand had let go of his left, which was now back to hanging casually by his side.
+"Do you know anything at all about Neiphil, [[location:earth:euryalia|Euryalia]]?" he asked, answering the question by asking another. His right hand had let go of his left, which was now back to hanging casually by his side.
 The last of Leila's colleagues that were filing out had left. There would be some on other shifts still in the green house compartments, but it was the quietest it would get until she'd return to her own. Still, there was a mild discomfort in Mateo's posture. Maybe it was right to suggest going somewhere more private? What they'd last spoken about was, after all, not really fit for public consumption.
@@ Line 57: / Line 57: @@
 Giving it genuine though, she wracked her brain for any information she had on the location he named, but she finally shook her head. "Not a whole lot, I'm afraid..." She didn't even know that's where Mateo was from, though she was probably about to find out.
-<!--
+**pinkgothic**:
+"Neiphil is a Hansa - a kind of free economic zone, charter city, or city-state, depending on how you view it. It has a significant amount of legal autonomy, but is still taxed on the level of Euryalia. There's been a secessionist movement for a while," he said, imparting the information in an impartial tone, like a scholar.
+Then: "I grew up there. There's a significant values dissonance between Neiphil and Euryalia. I agree with the secessionists that it should be a separate nation. Micronation. That said, Neiphil is more Euryalian than Mars is Terran. We have extremely different needs up here than back home.
+"Which is a long-winded way to say: I don't love the rules. They're our political reality, but I don't love them."
+**Nymphetamine**:
+"I see..." A succinct way of expressing that she had taken in the information from him, absorbed it, and was still processing it, chewing on it like a bit of gristle. "I don't much care for //stupid// rules, but I suppose some of them make sense..." Leila sounded dubious, as if she wasn't entirely sure that was her own opinion on the subject. But perhaps this is just how it related to the forbidden nature of asking him to teach her sorcery... Pursing her lips for a moment, she moved about her neat little apartment to find them glasses for water. She was not well stocked on tea at the moment, having completely forgot that it was in fact a thing.
 **pinkgothic**:
+Mateo seemed set on remaining where he was for no, making no move to sit down. The silent agitation between them thrummed with everything thus far unsaid. It dragged on almost to point of discomfort, before he decided to say at least some things: "Everyone up here has good credentials. We lock our doors out of habit, not because anyone would steal anything. We don't have or need police; the strict hierarchy in the different divisions is enough."
+Whether intentionally or just by accident of narrative flow, he neglected to mention that the sorcerers were a striking exception - formally they reported to Sandrine, to the degree they could be said to be reporting to anyone, but she wasn't a subject-matter expert like Leila's own boss, and made no decisions on sorcery. Regardless, reporting lines were clear across the board.
+"That will change once Mars is better-terraformed, of course, and we start to have actual children here, families that have their own little plans, traditions and ethics, but right now we're all here for one reason: To let Mars succeed." It sounded like the beginning of a longer speech, but he stopped there, out of momentum for the time being.
+**Nymphetamine**:
+She listened to him as he spoke, knowing full well that he was correct about everything. It was not an easy thing to get one of these jobs on Mars. Leila had to go through extensive vetting of her credentials and references, but once she had, she had been excited. Dome life was alright, but she hoped to see the day Mars flourished with vegetation and children. Second generation Martians that would take up those mantles after their parents. A wonderful dream, and she had to shake her head to return to the present moment. "You're right. No police, no presidents or prime ministers, or whatever... It'll be strange to see how Mars will develop, but it's exciting, also, isn't it?"
+**pinkgothic**:
+Mateo responded to the question with an ambiguous silence. With a light shrug, he said: "We're the ones developing it."
+**Nymphetamine**:
+Brows furrowed for a moment at the somewhat uninspired response, but she ended up brushing pasting it. "Well. //I// think it's pretty exciting..." As if this counter point was necessary to reiterate. She approached him, offering him one of the glasses of water she had poured.
+**pinkgothic**:
+"Sure, I'm not claiming otherwise, but it's in our hands," he said, as he picked up the glass in the same, taking a sip, nodding gratefully for the shared water ration. "We can make it as exciting or boring as we want. And boring can be good. In this context, boring means peaceful."
+**Nymphetamine**:
+"Boring means //safe//," she said in near automatic repsonse. One did not want excitement in the domes. The conversation seemed cicular almost, rounding about on itself like the ouroboros. After he took the glass, she backed up out of his space to lean against the wall, her eyes still regarding him with quiet curiosity. They hadn't really touched down on the subject of him teaching her sorcery, but she was also unsure about bringing it up with him after how disasterously it went last time.
+**pinkgothic**:
+He nodded mutely for a few seconds, then punctuated the pause by drinking some more of his water. "And it has been," he said, meaning 'safe'. "And will continue to be for the foreseeable future. And we have plenty of educated people up here, which I think are in the best position to know what's good for Mars."
+**Nymphetamine**:
+"You're right," she said quietly, managing another quiet smile for him. "Building a whole new world up here." It was perhaps a little romanticized in her mind, but she was taking it seriously. Leaning against the wall of her small quarters, she watched him. "So now what?" It was such an open ended question that she left out in the open like that. It could mean anything, the mundane conversation about life on Mars, or perhaps his choice to decline to speak of her initial, sorcery-ladened query.
+**pinkgothic**:
+//Now what?// He cradled his gaze in his glass, and the glass in his hands. //So you should make the Mars you think is right,// was the logical progression of what he'd said and what he wanted to say. It still felt dangerous - not in a sense of illegality, but in a sense that he might be setting himself up for getting egg on his face.
+//So you should choose for yourself which rules are good and which ones are baggage,// was another framing that said the same thing, but that wording only invited misinterpretation, even with the context he'd given.
+"I don't know," he said, finally, visibly dissatisfied with his own response. "What do you want out of Mars? What's important to you?"
+**Nymphetamine**:
+Leila pondered that. What was important to her. What the hell she was even doing on Mars in the first place. It had been a streak of adventure, the unknowing, the peculiar possibilities. The danger, the thrill of stepping foot on another planet. The dream of so many! And she had been able to take those steps. She would be instrumental in helping Mars become green... But the answer to his question was a likewise admission of not knowing. "I dunno," she said honestly. "It's always been about the challenge, you know? Being among the first colonists, helping making Mars livable for the future..."
+**pinkgothic**:
+He nodded slowly, in a way that denoted resonance, not politeness, but did not say anything more in response. Instead, he finished his glass of water and ran a fingertip along the rim, idly glancing down at it, but without any real interest.
+**Nymphetamine**:
+She felt as though she had talked his ear off without ever rejoining the subject about the possibility of teaching her. Leila just did not have the bravery to bring it up a second time. Instead, she too allowed their conversation to lapse into silence. Eyes occasionally looked at him in what was a somewhat awkward ish quiet for her, but she didn't know what else to say to him.
+**pinkgothic**:
+After running the flow of conversation through his head another five times, he tapped a finger against the glass, so lightly that it wasn't audible even in this spartan room, where most small sounds amplified themselves through echoes. "I don't mind teaching you," he finally volunteered. "We're all up here to make Mars a better place, knowledge sharing improves everyone's odds." There was no added tension in his voice - it was said quite mundanely, as though he weren't suggesting to break the law, but simply making an observation.
 **Nymphetamine**:
--->
+Their weird silence continued until he broke it with the words that she hoped to hear. Perking up a little, she looked at him with quiet interest, listening to how he phrased everything. "We are," she said in agreement, a surety in her voice. "A better Mars for everyone... I... Well, thanks, Mateo. I'd hug you if I thought it wouldn't be so awkward." A little joke about her own weird lack of social skills. Brightening at this confirmed prospect that she could learn sorcery, she smileed at him. "Thank you... That's what I should've said. Thank you."