I like to think Mottom’s Guild guard is grumbling at all the people at this ball.
“Grmbl darn kings’n’fools, thinkin’ they can trick ma security per’mter. I’d kill ya all for ma Queen if I could. Lucky fo ya, I ain’t allowed to.”
This one wonders if our friends who follow after the Key in Alison’s head (and, perhaps a certain blue devil with golden spectacles) are attending in disguise. It’s the perfect occasion.
This one also finds herself oddly worried about Queen Nadia. As if she cannot defend herself.
the blue devil in the distant right, just behind the orange curtains, is no king or queen. he is not one of the fake walks of life around him, pushed down a path laden with wine and sweet temptations. no, his invitation is a lie and his goal is a false pipe with a hidden knife between ribs at the end of this cluttered cavalcade.
one of these pet royals will leave here alone, presuming safety in the cloud of alcohol that lingers in their veins and in the shadow of the great palace that is all to happy to have them under heel. they are not meant to return to the world they “rule.” they crossed one too many lines and the devil will have this vengeance snatched away by warring angels and the kingqueens of gates.
he will fail to uphold the pact he has made. he will die, screaming and wretched and twisted into a hydra of four-jointed arms like a lion’s mane. and one sobbing face like a child’s. the lie that is his ballroom disguise will give to the lie that is his mask and many names.
his memory will be swallowed by the void and he will return to a primal state, all hot fire and teeth and a furious ache shared by all his heartless kin. he will not remember what he has lost. it is the kindest fate…
he was once named “my love” by a clever little thief.
Ah, the sweet voice of Pree Karisan is certainly a pleasure to experience, for those of her homeworld speak only in tones of consonance, and among them she is the finest princess in their history. Though plain of visage and slight of figure, she is a living instrument, perfectly tuned, and imbued with true empathy. Many have sought her hand, only to be tragically declined due to her dedication to the Queen. But, it has been rumored that she once was betrothed to a Servant of fine stature from the Planet of Briggin in the Argvan Galaxy whose gravelly bass undertones were a perfect compliment to her own sultry contralto. It was only after he mysteriously disappeared that she entered into the Queen’s service. And darker rumors in the depths of the hidden places in the Queen’s palace speculate that from time to time, he has been seen in the outskirts of large gatherings watching her performances with a melancholy longing that belies an even deeper pain. Karisan has not spoken of him since his disappearance… Seeing a direct line of sight from her forward position on the stage to only one lurking in background, methinks that here, there is a pregnant conspiracy close to bearing a stillborn conclusion.
Lady Fayari vom Minnleid, Fourth Baroness Gossip to the Queen of Ayld stands, drink perched twixt her fingers behind the golden-glassed sky admiral. In the court of Ayldea, certain nobles are charged with knowing not just every layer of royal protocol, but also knowing every layer of royal scandal, which they helpfully impart to anyone who will listen.
Although the position of the Baroness Gossip is richly esteemed, the lifespan of that particular noble class is rarely measured in decades.
My word, that gold-masked demon by the stage over there, is that the Marchion Ankou D’Annen?
So terribly odd to see him at an event like this, he always has shunned parties of this sort. Perhaps he wishes to curry favour with the other princes along the border of Mottom’s territory, I’ve heard there has been some tension there of late, what with the scripture smugglers passing through.
Good to see him out and about though, I suppose. Been so terribly hard to get in contact with him after Mottom executed his brother. They were so terribly fond of each-other.
I’m rather tempted to see if I may find myself in conversation with him, it has been so long since I’ve seen his collection of misshapen souls, it must have grown quite grand these last centuries.
He had this fun little trick he’d do where he’d bake them back to life in that cauldron of his and have them dance for us while the soup was brought to boil. Such jolliness! Such joy! Oh, to hear the snapping of those limbs in their frolicking again!
Character back stories (sorry if I am picking something already done). Queen Nadia Om is surrounded by a crimson honor guard with visors and polearms. They appear to be lead by a bald dark skinned warrior with what is presumably a large slashing weapon across his back. Of course the Blood Flower Imperiatrix needs no protection from mere mortals but they are rather splendid.
The Ruby Praetorians have been Mottom’s bodyguard for nearly a decade originally being drawn from Dongola, an early conquest of hers. Their culture emphasizes martial prowess, honor and strength. As one might expect their history is characterized by brutal war as civilizations constantly struggled for power. The worlds environment largely consists of scorched vermilion deserts and humid crimson jungles. Little has changed on the world since Mottom’s seizure of power except that they now war for her attention rather than dominance, the reward being service in her armies.
These particular five hail from the Three Rubies Pact Alliance, a long standing Kingdom formed of three tribes which is currently dominant on Dongola. Their apparel celebrates their worlds color but underneath is masterwork scale armor and tight fitting helms. In the Alliance’s armies all but the officers are required to hide their features the ideal being that individuals should be appreciated for their skill rather than their appearance. The two on the left are known as Jaffan and Jakula, brother and sister from the Abdal tribe, joining the military early they were given this position after esteemed service in Mottom’s name. On the back right is Fasad, a quiet man who’s origins he is reluctant to reveal, this minor digression is made up for with his lethal skills. Lastly is Belanon of the Secotta tribe, a man of quick wit and blinding speed. Here they are armed with quarterstaffs to quickly and safely resolve any disputes, after all it would be unseemly for Mottom’s visiting guests to be impaled. Their leader is Huvala’ki, a man famed on Dongola for his prodigious strength and skill, Mottom personally asked for the Yungala tribe’s champion on her last visit to Dongola. After today’s earlier assassination attempt he is feeling particularly twitchy and is ready to draw his mighty scimitar at a moments notice, his intense glare keeps any from approaching his Queen.
Ah yes! The women with the mole on her cheek [106], Madam Ivalet Nuatxim of the “Greater Worlds”. A lovely place, capital entirely of Marble, though as depicted, it seems she is again reminding someone of that.
I just barely observe Armest Ures, the Gold Devil just below that lady with the fantastic galleon atop her head. In comparison, Ures’s garb is positively tame… though not to an extent that it would let her stick out in a party of Mottom’s palace. Such is her art; from what I understand, she is an absolute master of a very specific form of stealth, diplomacy, and subterfuge. She thrives in crowds and conversations of all kinds, and has an innate knack for knowing not only how to teach someone with offhanded commentary and gossip, but also how they may react to it. The right information to the wrong people; the wrong information to the right people; an exposed scandal to a susceptible crowd at the worst possible time; and, if necessary, a perfect frame to crush the voice of an opponent forever. It would not surprise you to learn that Armest Ures became a fantastic and popular reporter for her efforts, back when she was a blue devil.
Take note that one does not become a gold devil by simple journalism, nor does it get one into Mottom’s Palace. In her own way, Armest Ures can destroy someone in a way that few others can ever accomplish. Pray that she never speaks to you. Pray harder that you never cross her.
Peter D’vie-n, Liar, Aggrandizer, Villein of Throne
This one spies Mish’an’ak, Player of Syllables of Royalty upon the higher cushion to the right of the stage. His simple garb belays his talent to twist the most archaic and stunted measure into a magnificent skirl of unknowable dimensions. This instrument he is seen to be holding is an untruth, held in secret inside is the true maker of sound, a shred of the softest rock from his own world, long since stripped bare for the glorious Mottom and her particular care for yielding but firm pillows. He plays merely by speaking one of the syllables of Royalty into his tube, wherein the shred vibrates and thus creates the sounds of madness that so frequent the gods’ palace.
It is said that the most skilled of his musical order knew two or three syllables of the seven of Royalty and of YISUN, and could create songs that shattered entire planes of existence. Even so, a master of two such syllables could unmake the trappings of even a large gathering of power as this ball.
But! What a shame he only knows one.
The large brute playing the harp-demon, his name is Klaaarghn Fists-of-Brass. The band is playing it off as if nothing is wrong, but Klaaarghn is actually a last-second replacement for the original harp player, who was mysteriously found slain just an hour before the band was to perform.
Francocoeur, the bassist, was the one who discovered him just in time for the performance after a frantic search. Francocoeur does consider it strange that he was able to find a talented replacement so easily and at the party no less, but risking an offense to Mottom at her own ball invites terrible things. Better to ask no questions and accept it as good luck.
Klaaarghn had no qualms about murdering the former harp player. He trained for years for this night, in fact. He isn’t even very interested in playing the harp – he intends on stealing it after the ball is over, to turn it back into the demon from which it was wrought if he and his associates can manage. That demon owes them a great many favors, and even its current punishment isn’t enough to escape them…
Ah, excuse me, the others sent me to retrieve the Lord Trader. L-Lord Trader Count Lance Dragoon? Please, the other crewmembers already dislike me for being a mutant, and they covet my ability to see through the Warp. If I return without him, they will likely be incensed. The hulking machine-cleric has been looking at me oddly. I fear he intends to pluck out my Navigator’s Eye and wear it as a pendant! The Child of the Warp is no better. Outwardly, he seems friendly, but he is vulnerable to the tides of Chaos, as all Warplings are, and he may become possessed at any moment. Don’t even get me started on the blue one. Friendship with him would only deepen the others’ distaste for me, as he is Unhuman. Although she seems uncommonly amiable, I cannot bear to even approach the Void-Mistress, as she has no soul. The Trader, though, he recognizes that I am useful, strange and frail as I am. Please, do any of you know where he is?
The short blue deviless in the front? Serving drinks? That lovely young-seeming lady is Imix, an assassin and slow-poisoner par excellence. She snuck into Mottom’s palace years ago posed as a servant and has been poisoning the wine she serves ever since.
Mottom knows all about it, and thinks it’s hilarious.
The musicians are the Regulus 5. They do not come from similar worlds, but met and formed the band, becoming extremely popular across The Wheel.
They are led by V’tres Hun’ab, a singer who’s able to hit pitches most species can’t hear without special equipment, both up and down the scale, earned through vigorous vocal training. Her appearance here is a little scandalous, as she was recently discovered to have been writing extremely explicit poetry under the pseudonym Sawtoothed Beast. While popular with some circles, widely she was condemned for the content. Yet here she is. At least she is only performing R5 classics, not any of her Sawtoothed material. However, it is rumored that she might begin doing solo performances as Sawtoothed Beast, if any establishments reach out to her. This worries their production company, as while they could make a strong claim for ownership of the poems, they do not wish to damage their image by assosiating the brand with them. Time will tell how they ultimately react.
The Olympian Cloud plays the hermonin, a instrument similar to a earth harp apart from in 5 key areas. The Cloud (as he prefers to be called) is also a champion at his world’s most popular sport, though he left to pursue his career in music after he was injured. The sport’s name, roughly translated, is The Act Which Praises the Rocks, Earth and Hells, though missing a lot of subtext involving the nature of this praising and which particular Hell it’s referring to, different for each game. It plays like a mixture of triathlon, american football and polo. The Cloud’s has written some B-sides for the band and is a founding member along with V’tres, having met her when she was performing backing vocals for a match. The Cloud is not using his regular hermonin, as it was damaged at their last performance. He is known for long solos, a habit that annoys some fans.
The two clarinet players (yes, they are exactly the same as a clarinet, though their species’ mouth structure allows for unique sounds) are the siblings Burrryuca and Hyyyrtr. Originally freelance musicians, hiring themselves out to fill up orchestras and the like, they joined R5 after seeing them perform live. If interviews are to be believed, the previous clarinet player (a elderly creature known as Eshuk) died live on stage, as it reached the end of his life-cycle. It released spores into the crowd, but most had brought protective gear. Not so for the siblings, who inhaled the spores and thus gained Eshuk’s ability to play the clarinet (they previously played only the tuba). They joined R5 soon after, being fired from their previous agency for breaking contract, which counted the spore inhaling as drug abuse. They play in unison, mixed to provide louder backing to the vocal sections.
The insect is Two Three Eight Six One Seven. His species have a very short life span, maybe 10 or 20 years at most and so is the latest in a long family line of Ut players who have been in R5, child taking over from parent. His species have genetically engineered roles and his is Ut playing. As such, he is perfectly suited to playing it, both in physically and mentally adding a methodical, almost artificial sound to their music. He has been exiled from his home planet for “grub-scrugging”, the act of touching a newly formed grub, which split the fan base there. Fans can also buy his genetic material if they wish to “clone” him, though there is no guarantee of the child’s personality being the same (a fact a fan sued over).
I see several familiar faces: Myk the Bassist, a Kzke drone Engineer from The Realm of Shadows in Retrograde, known to some as the “Elvis of the Second Aethyr”; Horgon the Harpist, a Seeker from the Second Lowell Ecstasies, who once played for Jeddak Tardos Mors in the Kingdom of Helium; Freel and Zeer, two Thellani Speakers from the Uplifted Arc Zones, play the horns; and Wöx Pritch, of course, is the singer. Together, they’re the band–Dogma’s Olive. The name was Myk’s idea.
I just can’t believe this is the same Mottom as before. The ol’granny seems to have disappeared under the flame of youth.
I like to think Mottom’s Guild guard is grumbling at all the people at this ball.
“Grmbl darn kings’n’fools, thinkin’ they can trick ma security per’mter. I’d kill ya all for ma Queen if I could. Lucky fo ya, I ain’t allowed to.”
Kill Six Billion Fashions
Oh look, you’ve discovered a worse instrument to major in than cello.
I can only imagine the band’s playing the canteen music of Star Wars IV. This gives a totally different atmosphere to the “ball”.
This one wonders if our friends who follow after the Key in Alison’s head (and, perhaps a certain blue devil with golden spectacles) are attending in disguise. It’s the perfect occasion.
This one also finds herself oddly worried about Queen Nadia. As if she cannot defend herself.
Allison: “….Wanna throw hors d’oeuvres at that one fat guy?”
Om: “Do I!”
Granted this works better after the bottom far left panel, but then I did read it right to left at first….>.>
You’re my hero and superstar, Alice-UN!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6A5Z95QT5Pc
the blue devil in the distant right, just behind the orange curtains, is no king or queen. he is not one of the fake walks of life around him, pushed down a path laden with wine and sweet temptations. no, his invitation is a lie and his goal is a false pipe with a hidden knife between ribs at the end of this cluttered cavalcade.
one of these pet royals will leave here alone, presuming safety in the cloud of alcohol that lingers in their veins and in the shadow of the great palace that is all to happy to have them under heel. they are not meant to return to the world they “rule.” they crossed one too many lines and the devil will have this vengeance snatched away by warring angels and the kingqueens of gates.
he will fail to uphold the pact he has made. he will die, screaming and wretched and twisted into a hydra of four-jointed arms like a lion’s mane. and one sobbing face like a child’s. the lie that is his ballroom disguise will give to the lie that is his mask and many names.
his memory will be swallowed by the void and he will return to a primal state, all hot fire and teeth and a furious ache shared by all his heartless kin. he will not remember what he has lost. it is the kindest fate…
he was once named “my love” by a clever little thief.
Mottom’s speech isn’t orange! This must be an imposter.
The bug looking guy with all the win is Tunchak’vama, and is grieving over the loss of a broodmate serving in Mottom’s forces to conquer a world
Bottom left-hand panel. Mottom has a dish of, er, plums in a bowl next to Her couch. Eek!
Ah, the sweet voice of Pree Karisan is certainly a pleasure to experience, for those of her homeworld speak only in tones of consonance, and among them she is the finest princess in their history. Though plain of visage and slight of figure, she is a living instrument, perfectly tuned, and imbued with true empathy. Many have sought her hand, only to be tragically declined due to her dedication to the Queen. But, it has been rumored that she once was betrothed to a Servant of fine stature from the Planet of Briggin in the Argvan Galaxy whose gravelly bass undertones were a perfect compliment to her own sultry contralto. It was only after he mysteriously disappeared that she entered into the Queen’s service. And darker rumors in the depths of the hidden places in the Queen’s palace speculate that from time to time, he has been seen in the outskirts of large gatherings watching her performances with a melancholy longing that belies an even deeper pain. Karisan has not spoken of him since his disappearance… Seeing a direct line of sight from her forward position on the stage to only one lurking in background, methinks that here, there is a pregnant conspiracy close to bearing a stillborn conclusion.
Challenge Accepted:
Lady Fayari vom Minnleid, Fourth Baroness Gossip to the Queen of Ayld stands, drink perched twixt her fingers behind the golden-glassed sky admiral. In the court of Ayldea, certain nobles are charged with knowing not just every layer of royal protocol, but also knowing every layer of royal scandal, which they helpfully impart to anyone who will listen.
Although the position of the Baroness Gossip is richly esteemed, the lifespan of that particular noble class is rarely measured in decades.
My word, that gold-masked demon by the stage over there, is that the Marchion Ankou D’Annen?
So terribly odd to see him at an event like this, he always has shunned parties of this sort. Perhaps he wishes to curry favour with the other princes along the border of Mottom’s territory, I’ve heard there has been some tension there of late, what with the scripture smugglers passing through.
Good to see him out and about though, I suppose. Been so terribly hard to get in contact with him after Mottom executed his brother. They were so terribly fond of each-other.
I’m rather tempted to see if I may find myself in conversation with him, it has been so long since I’ve seen his collection of misshapen souls, it must have grown quite grand these last centuries.
He had this fun little trick he’d do where he’d bake them back to life in that cauldron of his and have them dance for us while the soup was brought to boil. Such jolliness! Such joy! Oh, to hear the snapping of those limbs in their frolicking again!
Character back stories (sorry if I am picking something already done). Queen Nadia Om is surrounded by a crimson honor guard with visors and polearms. They appear to be lead by a bald dark skinned warrior with what is presumably a large slashing weapon across his back. Of course the Blood Flower Imperiatrix needs no protection from mere mortals but they are rather splendid.
The Ruby Praetorians have been Mottom’s bodyguard for nearly a decade originally being drawn from Dongola, an early conquest of hers. Their culture emphasizes martial prowess, honor and strength. As one might expect their history is characterized by brutal war as civilizations constantly struggled for power. The worlds environment largely consists of scorched vermilion deserts and humid crimson jungles. Little has changed on the world since Mottom’s seizure of power except that they now war for her attention rather than dominance, the reward being service in her armies.
These particular five hail from the Three Rubies Pact Alliance, a long standing Kingdom formed of three tribes which is currently dominant on Dongola. Their apparel celebrates their worlds color but underneath is masterwork scale armor and tight fitting helms. In the Alliance’s armies all but the officers are required to hide their features the ideal being that individuals should be appreciated for their skill rather than their appearance. The two on the left are known as Jaffan and Jakula, brother and sister from the Abdal tribe, joining the military early they were given this position after esteemed service in Mottom’s name. On the back right is Fasad, a quiet man who’s origins he is reluctant to reveal, this minor digression is made up for with his lethal skills. Lastly is Belanon of the Secotta tribe, a man of quick wit and blinding speed. Here they are armed with quarterstaffs to quickly and safely resolve any disputes, after all it would be unseemly for Mottom’s visiting guests to be impaled. Their leader is Huvala’ki, a man famed on Dongola for his prodigious strength and skill, Mottom personally asked for the Yungala tribe’s champion on her last visit to Dongola. After today’s earlier assassination attempt he is feeling particularly twitchy and is ready to draw his mighty scimitar at a moments notice, his intense glare keeps any from approaching his Queen.
Ah yes! The women with the mole on her cheek [106], Madam Ivalet Nuatxim of the “Greater Worlds”. A lovely place, capital entirely of Marble, though as depicted, it seems she is again reminding someone of that.
I just barely observe Armest Ures, the Gold Devil just below that lady with the fantastic galleon atop her head. In comparison, Ures’s garb is positively tame… though not to an extent that it would let her stick out in a party of Mottom’s palace. Such is her art; from what I understand, she is an absolute master of a very specific form of stealth, diplomacy, and subterfuge. She thrives in crowds and conversations of all kinds, and has an innate knack for knowing not only how to teach someone with offhanded commentary and gossip, but also how they may react to it. The right information to the wrong people; the wrong information to the right people; an exposed scandal to a susceptible crowd at the worst possible time; and, if necessary, a perfect frame to crush the voice of an opponent forever. It would not surprise you to learn that Armest Ures became a fantastic and popular reporter for her efforts, back when she was a blue devil.
Take note that one does not become a gold devil by simple journalism, nor does it get one into Mottom’s Palace. In her own way, Armest Ures can destroy someone in a way that few others can ever accomplish. Pray that she never speaks to you. Pray harder that you never cross her.
Peter D’vie-n, Liar, Aggrandizer, Villein of Throne
This one spies Mish’an’ak, Player of Syllables of Royalty upon the higher cushion to the right of the stage. His simple garb belays his talent to twist the most archaic and stunted measure into a magnificent skirl of unknowable dimensions. This instrument he is seen to be holding is an untruth, held in secret inside is the true maker of sound, a shred of the softest rock from his own world, long since stripped bare for the glorious Mottom and her particular care for yielding but firm pillows. He plays merely by speaking one of the syllables of Royalty into his tube, wherein the shred vibrates and thus creates the sounds of madness that so frequent the gods’ palace.
It is said that the most skilled of his musical order knew two or three syllables of the seven of Royalty and of YISUN, and could create songs that shattered entire planes of existence. Even so, a master of two such syllables could unmake the trappings of even a large gathering of power as this ball.
But! What a shame he only knows one.
The large brute playing the harp-demon, his name is Klaaarghn Fists-of-Brass. The band is playing it off as if nothing is wrong, but Klaaarghn is actually a last-second replacement for the original harp player, who was mysteriously found slain just an hour before the band was to perform.
Francocoeur, the bassist, was the one who discovered him just in time for the performance after a frantic search. Francocoeur does consider it strange that he was able to find a talented replacement so easily and at the party no less, but risking an offense to Mottom at her own ball invites terrible things. Better to ask no questions and accept it as good luck.
Klaaarghn had no qualms about murdering the former harp player. He trained for years for this night, in fact. He isn’t even very interested in playing the harp – he intends on stealing it after the ball is over, to turn it back into the demon from which it was wrought if he and his associates can manage. That demon owes them a great many favors, and even its current punishment isn’t enough to escape them…
Ah, excuse me, the others sent me to retrieve the Lord Trader. L-Lord Trader Count Lance Dragoon? Please, the other crewmembers already dislike me for being a mutant, and they covet my ability to see through the Warp. If I return without him, they will likely be incensed. The hulking machine-cleric has been looking at me oddly. I fear he intends to pluck out my Navigator’s Eye and wear it as a pendant! The Child of the Warp is no better. Outwardly, he seems friendly, but he is vulnerable to the tides of Chaos, as all Warplings are, and he may become possessed at any moment. Don’t even get me started on the blue one. Friendship with him would only deepen the others’ distaste for me, as he is Unhuman. Although she seems uncommonly amiable, I cannot bear to even approach the Void-Mistress, as she has no soul. The Trader, though, he recognizes that I am useful, strange and frail as I am. Please, do any of you know where he is?
The short blue deviless in the front? Serving drinks? That lovely young-seeming lady is Imix, an assassin and slow-poisoner par excellence. She snuck into Mottom’s palace years ago posed as a servant and has been poisoning the wine she serves ever since.
Mottom knows all about it, and thinks it’s hilarious.
The musicians are the Regulus 5. They do not come from similar worlds, but met and formed the band, becoming extremely popular across The Wheel.
They are led by V’tres Hun’ab, a singer who’s able to hit pitches most species can’t hear without special equipment, both up and down the scale, earned through vigorous vocal training. Her appearance here is a little scandalous, as she was recently discovered to have been writing extremely explicit poetry under the pseudonym Sawtoothed Beast. While popular with some circles, widely she was condemned for the content. Yet here she is. At least she is only performing R5 classics, not any of her Sawtoothed material. However, it is rumored that she might begin doing solo performances as Sawtoothed Beast, if any establishments reach out to her. This worries their production company, as while they could make a strong claim for ownership of the poems, they do not wish to damage their image by assosiating the brand with them. Time will tell how they ultimately react.
The Olympian Cloud plays the hermonin, a instrument similar to a earth harp apart from in 5 key areas. The Cloud (as he prefers to be called) is also a champion at his world’s most popular sport, though he left to pursue his career in music after he was injured. The sport’s name, roughly translated, is The Act Which Praises the Rocks, Earth and Hells, though missing a lot of subtext involving the nature of this praising and which particular Hell it’s referring to, different for each game. It plays like a mixture of triathlon, american football and polo. The Cloud’s has written some B-sides for the band and is a founding member along with V’tres, having met her when she was performing backing vocals for a match. The Cloud is not using his regular hermonin, as it was damaged at their last performance. He is known for long solos, a habit that annoys some fans.
The two clarinet players (yes, they are exactly the same as a clarinet, though their species’ mouth structure allows for unique sounds) are the siblings Burrryuca and Hyyyrtr. Originally freelance musicians, hiring themselves out to fill up orchestras and the like, they joined R5 after seeing them perform live. If interviews are to be believed, the previous clarinet player (a elderly creature known as Eshuk) died live on stage, as it reached the end of his life-cycle. It released spores into the crowd, but most had brought protective gear. Not so for the siblings, who inhaled the spores and thus gained Eshuk’s ability to play the clarinet (they previously played only the tuba). They joined R5 soon after, being fired from their previous agency for breaking contract, which counted the spore inhaling as drug abuse. They play in unison, mixed to provide louder backing to the vocal sections.
The insect is Two Three Eight Six One Seven. His species have a very short life span, maybe 10 or 20 years at most and so is the latest in a long family line of Ut players who have been in R5, child taking over from parent. His species have genetically engineered roles and his is Ut playing. As such, he is perfectly suited to playing it, both in physically and mentally adding a methodical, almost artificial sound to their music. He has been exiled from his home planet for “grub-scrugging”, the act of touching a newly formed grub, which split the fan base there. Fans can also buy his genetic material if they wish to “clone” him, though there is no guarantee of the child’s personality being the same (a fact a fan sued over).
I see several familiar faces: Myk the Bassist, a Kzke drone Engineer from The Realm of Shadows in Retrograde, known to some as the “Elvis of the Second Aethyr”; Horgon the Harpist, a Seeker from the Second Lowell Ecstasies, who once played for Jeddak Tardos Mors in the Kingdom of Helium; Freel and Zeer, two Thellani Speakers from the Uplifted Arc Zones, play the horns; and Wöx Pritch, of course, is the singer. Together, they’re the band–Dogma’s Olive. The name was Myk’s idea.
Nothing complements a periwig like stunna shades.