Snakes and Ladders

[Karmotrine Dream]

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☆ Date: 05/09/834 AS
☆ Time: 1516, +00MT
☆ Location: Zen Star (C. Oasis Liner); Outer Huron orbit, Ontario. Deck Three.

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If the secretary already seemed to be in a hurry to get anywhere that wasn't in close proximity to the infamous leader of the LFR, his casual display of familiarity with Kusari customs - and language besides - put a further spring in his step.
Not a good day for the lad, all in all.

« Wow. I had no idea you knew Kusari », remarks an impressed explorer, staring wide-eyed for a second or two before taking on a disapproving look. « I've no idea what you told him, but it sounded... kind of natural? And a bit mean. »

Her eyes converge on the retreating colleague, headed towards a side lift - possibly to go back to the command centre of the vessel, or the fancier equivalent of such found on liners.

« Oh, the boy simply doesn't give himself enough credit. Strict family, his; firm belief that praise spoils and that excellence is a baseline », comments Hancock, matter-of-factly. « A stereotype of Kusari upbringing, perhaps... but as you can well see, there are hints of truth in it. »

He turns to Damien, inviting him to follow; his office is straight ahead.

« That aside, I will echo the sentiment of my esteemed colleague. You are a man of culture indeed, mister Morreti! And while that is always worth celebrating, I confess I did not expect the leader of a group such as yours to exhibit such familiarity either! »
« Mm. When you hear about Xenos, it's because of their... well... xenophobia », she adds, with a tiny shrug. « Not saying that's true, but that's what you hear. »

The central area comes in full view, as they walk down the corridor: a large square platform reaching roughly waist height, its sharply inclined walls reminiscent of the rock terracing of the ancient Kusari castles, with a short and wide wooden circular stage down the middle, currently empty save for a trio of ample and finely decorated separés, depicting naturalistic elements over golden backgrounds, and a large, deep-blue torii surmounting the ensemble, draped with white paper strips.
The central inscription, normally bearing an invocation to some spirit, has been replaced for an ukiyo-e painting.

Depicting a thin river of light cutting across an ultramarine night-time background, as roiling black storm clouds gather round, the eye is drawn to the subtly oneiric, ungrounded landscape as much as the shift in style of the brush strokes -- deft and delicate, when given to the brighter colours, swift and bold when given to the darker hues.

All in all, the space puts one in mind of an event stage of some description - or an artistic installation, perhaps, given the gate's unconventional characteristics.

« To answer your earlier question, mister - that, is the work of Lady Asakura », the merchant says, pointing to the prominently-placed artwork.
« Artiste by nature, a most gifted one at that; brilliant warp theorist by vocation, overseeing and drafting the calculations for the spatial jumps herself; and my honoured business partner. A true luminary », he says, his admiring tone shifting to a sigh. « one that, I regret to say, Kusari foolishly dismissed, as its more retrograde elements are so fond of doing to the other half of our species. »
« Knobs, the lot of 'em », grumbles Iris, much more prosaically, getting a look from Hancock for her trouble. « What? »

Having circumnavigated the stage, the doors to the merchant's office present themselves.
They don't look any more ornate or elaborate than the others, sharing the same tasteful Kusari motifs found on the lower deck - a show of humility on his part, perhaps, or an appreciation for the old adage of 'less is more'. Or both, possibly.

« Very well then, it is time for us and mister Morreti to discuss matters of some import, behind figurative and literal closed doors. Would you mind leaving us, my girl? »

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