Philosophy of Success and Beauty

Luce

So, after watching 'Discourse on Aesthetics', a discussion cropped up. I'm going to trim off useless prompts and echos, and most of the clan chatter, etc.

Stepping from behind the scrim with a soft smile, Kallista Aedonis Tremula, Lady Potentate says,
"Greetings, comrades. I do hope you will find tonight's performance stimulating."

(Clan A): Portius says, "Matrix people, come loiter at the stage instead."

(Clan A): Pejat says, "Summon the novices!"

The hum of energy fades away as Shedrin, riding a black spotted, hulking pony with black wings,
leaves to the northeast in a cloud of icy white sparks.

(Clan A): Shedrin says, "I'm getting them."

(Clan A): Portius says, "And allies."

(Clan A): You say, "It's a lot like 'Summon the Heros', but with kazoos."

(Clan A): Portius says, "I prefer to think of it as lighting the beacons of Gondor to call for
cultural aide."

The tang of ozone fills the air as Shedrin, riding a black spotted, hulking pony with black wings,
enters from the northeast, wreathed in crackling bolts of lightning.

(Clan A): Portius says, "THE BEACON OF HALLIFAX IS LIT! PORTIUS CALLS FOR VIEWERS!"

(Clan A): Portius says, "Pejat are you summoning our allies."

(Market): Pejat says, "Allies and non-enemies of Hallifax, we invite you to the Hallifaxian Opera
House to experience philosophy."

Nall arrives from the northeast.

Nall's mouth turns up as his face breaks into a smile.

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Tremula's lips.

Pejat gives Nall a respectful salute.

With a flourish of his arm, Nall bows deeply.

Dull chiming noises echo in the distance at regular intervals, the sound of hammers on crystal.

Shedrin steps down off of a black spotted, hulking pony with black wings.

Shedrin sits himself down on an opera bench of elaborately engraved marble and makes himself
comfortable.

Pejat sits himself down on an opera bench of elaborately engraved marble and makes himself
comfortable.

Offering a demure inclination of her head, Kallista Aedonis Tremula, Lady Potentate says, "We will
begin shortly, comrades. Your patience is well appreciated, and your patronage exemplary."

Nall sits himself down on an opera bench of elaborately engraved marble and makes himself
comfortable.

Tremula, riding a pure black nightmare, steps in through the scrim from the stage.
A pure black nightmare rears up and sends a bank of jet black clouds rolling to the ether, galloping
away upon it.

The curtains part on an ornate stage of crystal and gold, heralding the start of the performance of
'Discourse on Aesthetics'.

Tremula strides into the plaza, the majority of her face covered by an iron fan with indigo silk,
spikes of emerald sticking from each spoke of the accessory as she drags her husband along. A human
girl with strawberry-blonde hair done up in an elegant chignon follows silently behind, struggling
to keep up with the couple's long steps and hold a lace parasol above the viscanti woman's head
simultaneously.

stage look
You examine an ornate stage of crystal and gold and see:
This plaza between the spires is suspiciously empty, as though it has been forcibly cleared of
loiterers. A faint wind whistles through it, and the sun shines brightly down on the glass tiles
that cover the ground. Pigeons occasionally swoop down from above to deface the sparkling tiles and
the occasional iron bench.
The following props can be seen (STAGE LOOK  to examine them):
  Simona              : With fair, tawny skin and eyes that shine like refined e
The following roles are being performed (STAGE LOOK  to examine them):
  Portius             : Portius                                  by Portius
  Tremula             : Tremula                                  by Tremula

You examine an ornate stage of crystal and gold and see:
Portius
Portrayed by Portius
Costume: He is a feathered trill scientific demigod and although he has the tanned skin of one
accustomed to the open air, he has the slight hunch of a man who spends too long bent over a desk or
writing tablet. His head is crowned in feathers of a soft grey color that is entirely inadequate to
serve as a distraction from the lines and wrinkles that are starting to make themselves at home upon
his face. Large wings of the same grey sprout from his back, the feathers in a state of slight
disarray and showing the subtle hints of damage that imply a certain amount of neglect. Both of his
hands are marred by a smattering of discolored blotches, the largest being nearly the size of a gold
sovereign. He is wearing an avian wedding band of morning-gold filigree, regal black and gold
professorial robes, a star-etched coral ring, a howling ring of the raging tempest, the
Quintessential Mandala of Resplendent Harmony, a ridiculous pig nose, a thick silver Ouroboros
anklet, a star-etched jade ring, a blackened steel jakari frogge, a star-etched sapphire ring and an
onyx studded clear ring.

You examine an ornate stage of crystal and gold and see:
Tremula
Portrayed by Tremula
Costume: She is a fiendish viscanti and her eyebrows are the same frigid white as her hair, arched
in a display of perfect elegance. A faint smirk graces her lips, which are painted a midnight black
colour, two fang tips barely visible over the slightly plumper bottom one. Her make-up is almost
nonexistent, only faint traces of blush and eye kohl done in a frosty blue. Porcelain, doll-like
skin covers her body, though it is barely visible through the everpresent, shifting miasma of Taint
that struggles to cloud it from view, the clouds cloying and choking in their viscosity. Seeming to
originate from her, the viscous fog constantly shifts and roils, spiralling and whirling in an
evershifting pattern of mystifying complexity. The only thing clearly visible at all times through
the stirring black and crimson clouds are her eyes. Almond shaped, her right iris displays the full
purple spectrum, a light lavender at the outside that darkens beautifully towards the deep indigo
surrounding the pupil. Her left irises share the colouration, the six smaller ones surrounding the
larger center one in a circular pattern, a total of seven staring out in an unnerving manner. Her
build, while petite, still manages to carry a feminine grace with its faint hourglass curve. Wound
tightly around her right arm are a myriad of miniscule lapis beads wrapping a white copper censer
tightly to her skin, nearly obscuring the lavender flame within. She is wearing a lush velvet gown
of gold-razed indigo with emerald petticoats, stately indigo boots with a stiletto high heel, a hazy
demi veil of indigo chiffon held captive by crystal-tipped pins, and elbow-length emerald silk
gloves.

Tremula glances about at the flying birds warily, taking careful measures to adjust her steps and
avoid the excrement littering the ground.

-stage look simona
You examine an ornate stage of crystal and gold and see:
With fair, tawny skin and eyes that shine like refined emeralds matched with strawberry-blonde hair,
this human girl is undeniably beautiful. Her beauty, however, is marred by two jagged red scars,
running from the edges of her lips to each ear, and the tight line her lips seem to permanently be
pressed into. Dressed simply, yet elegantly, in a dress of deep grey silk, she moves with the
practised air of a servant.

Lowering her fan and waving it demurely, directing the gentle breeze towards herself, Tremula says,
"Well, it certainly seems as though Lady Cloudwalker has found success with her play, doesn't it?"

Solemn, staid voices can be heard from somewhere outdoors, rising and falling in emotionless,
precise monotone.

Portius says, "To the contrary, my dear. I am forced to conclude that it is in abject failure."

Tremula's violet eyes gleam with curiosity for a moment before the spark vanishes as quickly as it
appeared, replaced with bored indifference.

Arching a single, frosted eyebrow without glancing from the direction the couple walk, Tremula says,
"Did you not enjoy it?"

Portius says, "I enjoyed it very much."

After a moment of contemplative silence, Tremula says, "Then how can you call it a failure?"

Portius says, "My opinion of the play has nothing to do with its success."

Cold, clean breezes eddy through the air, driven indoors by the constant winds that buffet the city.

Tremula waves her fan idly as her eyes flick momentarily towards Portius, returning to the opposite
side of the plaza immediately after.

A faint smile touching at her lips as she closes her fan with a snap of her wrist, the iron closing
with a sound akin to a sword sliding into its sheath, Tremula says, "If a play is good, does that
not mean it is a success?"

Portius says, "It does, and that is why I must call it a failure."

Tapping the iron thoughtfully against the hollow of her throat, Tremula says, "You are talking
nonsense, dear."

Portius says, "Not at all. Here, step out of the path and I shall explain it to you."

Tremula clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, making a quiet clicking noise.

Signalling her handmaiden to step out in stride with a raised hand, Tremula says, "Explain it how
you like, but I suspect the heat has gotten to your brain."

Portius says, "That is the nonsense. Now, why do you suppose that Lady Cloudwalker arranged for that
production?"

Perching on the end of the crystal tenderly and gesturing for Simona and Portius to sit as well,
Tremula says, "Love of the art, or so I would assume."

Portius casually slides himself down onto the bench.

Portius says, "Hardly. She is in debt, and quite deeply at that. She was hoping to turn a profit."

Nodding her head sagely towards the trill, Tremula says, "A perfectly honourable motive."

Portius says, "Indeed it is, but did you notice how empty the theatre was? She clearly failed in her
objective."

Tremula smiles faintly as Simona refuses the offered seat, moving to stand behind the couple
silently instead.

The faintest twinkle of amusement in her eye, as though she has heard this a thousand times prior,
Tremula says, "So you are saying that the play is bad because it made no money?"

Portius says, "You nearly have it. I am saying that the play is bad because it did not achieve the
goal for which it was written. If she had no interest in making money then the profits, or lack
thereof, would be entirely irrelevant."

Having a melodramatic sigh, Tremula says, "I think I hear one of your lectures coming."

Solemn, staid voices can be heard from somewhere outdoors, rising and falling in emotionless,
precise monotone.

Portius says, "Not at all. I am simply conversing with my wife. Now, would you agree that people do
not act purely at random, and thus that there is a reason behind every action?"

The first faint feelings of exhaustion prick at your consciousness.

Tapping her closed fan against her knee, Tremula says, "Of course. Nobody can deny that she wrote
that play for a reason, no matter what it was."

Portius says, "Excellent. Then let us propose that any given work of art has an associated goal for
which it was made."

With a barely noticable roll of her eyes, Tremula says, "Are we still speaking of Lady Cloudwalker's
play?"

Portius says, "And every other work of art. A philosophical system that cannot be generalized is no
system at all."

With a light laugh, Tremula says, "I shall take your word for that."

Portius says, "As you wish, although I cannot advise taking any such statement on faith. No matter.
Will you agree that a work of art may succeed or fail at its goal, depending on how it is executed
and received?"

The first faint feelings of exhaustion prick at your consciousness.

Tremula's laugh fills the air, the winds picking up and sending grey feathers dancing through the
still plaza.

Her laughter dying down as she glances at her manicured nails dismissively, Tremula says, "Certainly.
 I've seen successes and failures alike."

Portius says, "Then we have an objective system of determining the quality of a work of art. Quality
is relative to goal. A work of art that succeeds in its goal is good, and one that fails is bad. It
is very simple."

After another long moment of silence, Tremula says, "That is a strange thought, but I don't think I
can argue against you."

Portius says, "That is because it is true."

Pointing the emerald claws of her fan at her husband's chest, Tremula says, "It seems that way. But
what happens if an artist wants more than one thing from their art? Fame and fortune, for example?"

Portius says, "Then the total goal of the work must take both of those into account. Good and bad
form a spectrum. The more it succeeds in meeting all of its goals, the better a work of art is. The
importance of goals can be weighted, of course, if one is more important than the other."

Waving her free hand through the air in a sweeping manner, Tremula says, "You've argued well enough
about quality, but what about beauty? Where does that factor into your system?"

Portius is suddenly and briefly wracked with hideous laughter.

Portius says, "What of it? Beauty is a quality which a work of art may or may not possess. It is
support the goal, it makes the work better. If it is contrary to the goal, it makes the work worse.
If it does neither, it is irrelevant."

Tapping at the censer bound to her arm, Tremula says, "Couldn't it be a goal on its own?"

Tremula's censer emits further tendrils of lavender smoke as if in response to her touch, the scent
of jasmine and lavender overpowering for a moment before fading.

Portius says, "Of course. Anything could be a goal, and although some goals may be worthier than
others that has no bearing on quality. An unworthy goal condemns the artist, not the art."

Her muttered statement still audible in the empty plaza, Tremula says, "It seems like a strange
thing to remove beauty from art."

Portius says, "Should all art be beautiful? Are there not times when it should inspire terror, or
sorrow, or serve any number of other such functions?"

Admitting the point with a nod of her head, Tremula says, "I suppose so."

Portius says, "Then either there are times when beauty is inappropriate in art, or beauty is defined
so broadly as to be a meaningless word. Even if it is beneficial in nearly every event, it is not
good in itself."

Jerking her chin towards the crystalline Opera House barely visible in the distance, Tremula says,
"I am sure there are people who would dispute that."

Portius says, "Let them. I welcome their proof."

A playful grin on her face, Tremula says, "And how would they prove that to you?"

Portius says, "Logic would suffice. Now come, if I remember the theatre's schedule properly a crowd
will be gathering soon. We should not linger."

As she stands and extends her arm regally towards Portius, opening her fan with a snap, Tremula says,
 "Tea, then. Come, my beloved logician. Let us escape before the throng can gather."

Tremula and Portius slowly sashay from view as the curtain falls, their receding forms only visible
for a moment before the handmaiden opens the parasol and clouds them from view.

The curtains draw to a close on an ornate stage of crystal and gold, signaling the conclusion of the
performance of 'Discourse on Aesthetics'.
You have two minutes to express your rating for 'Discourse on Aesthetics'.
Syntax: STAGE RATE   (0 to 5 stars).

Tremula, riding a pure black nightmare, steps in from behind the scrim.
A bank of jet black clouds rolls in from the ether, upon which gallops a pure black nightmare.

Pejat gets up off an opera bench of elaborately engraved marble.

A series of chiming notes, distinctly crystalline, ring out in the distance in a slow, descending
scale.

Pejat gives up a round of applause.

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Tremula's lips.

Nall claps his hands together merrily.

Tremula steps forward with regal poise, one hand graciously extended to her audience as she sketches
an elegant bow.

Chairman Pejat Shevat, the Shaper of Systems says, "That was wonderfully said."

Shedrin gets up off an opera bench of elaborately engraved marble.

Shedrin Shevat says, "Hmm hmm."

The first faint feelings of exhaustion prick at your consciousness.

You get up off an opera bench of elaborately engraved marble.

You sway back and forth.

You close your eyes, curl up in a ball, and fall asleep.

You separate your dreambody from your physical body and float free.

You have recovered equilibrium.

With a soft smile on her face as she rises, Kallista Aedonis Tremula, Lady Potentate says,
"Hopefully it has provoked thought among each of you. That is the purpose of philosophy, after all."

Shedrin ponders the situation.

Shedrin Shevat says, "Hmm hmm."

Chairman Pejat Shevat, the Shaper of Systems states, "By the stage reward protocol, Lord Librarian
Portius is awarded 20 credits and Kallista Tremula is awarded 5 credits. Participation in the arts
is encouraged."

Shedrin Shevat says, "Did this performance succeed, Citizens?"

Nall nods his head emphatically.

Kallista Aedonis Tremula, Lady Potentate says, "I believe Mister Shedrin directed towards all of you
that question."

Chairman Pejat Shevat, the Shaper of Systems says, "To my understanding the Lord Librarian wished to
press his views on those of the Opera House, and he used the Opera House to spread such views."

Tremula ponders the situation.

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "The
philosophical dialogue is an ancient and august format that dates back centuries."

You merge your dreambody back into your physical body.

You open your eyes and stretch languidly, feeling deliciously well-rested.

You cough softly.

You stand up and stretch your arms out wide.

Shedrin looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Kallista Aedonis Tremula, Lady Potentate says, "It is a shame none of our allies arrived to
contribute their thoughts."

Using her tongue and the roof of her mouth, Tremula makes a quiet clicking noise.

You say, "I, uh..."

Kallista Aedonis Tremula, Lady Potentate says to Portius, "Thinking back on it, marketing it as
philosophy was probably a poor idea."

Pejat tilts his head curiously at you.

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "Yes,
Zephyr?"

Slowly, you say, "I think I agree on the points about art being derived from a goal, but I'm not
sure that beauty can't be part of any piece of art."

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "Really? And
why do you say that?"

Solemn, staid voices can be heard from somewhere outdoors, rising and falling in emotionless,
precise monotone.
A pure black nightmare emits a blood-curdling whinny as she stomps the roiling clouds beneath her.

You say, "I mean, who's to say that abject terror or any other goal that looks to be aesthetically
displeasing can't have a certain kind of..."

Groping for the right term, you say, "Grace? Or art to it."

Shedrin Shevat says to you, "What is beauty?"

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "Well, I
suppose that is relative to beauty's definition."

You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.

A pure black nightmare emits a blood-curdling whinny as she stomps the roiling clouds beneath her.

You say, "I don't think it's merely aesthetic. Things can be said to be beautiful that have no
visual or rythmic components."

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "A reasonable
statement, but not a positive definition."

Ears creeping down as he continues to speak, you say, "Perhaps 'well placed' or 'complementary'
might fit better, but there's also something to be said for contrast..."

The sound of quiet, muffled conversation drifts through the air.

Shedrin ponders the situation.

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "Shall I
propose a definition? Beauty is the trait possessed by objects which inspire a given set of
emotional responses."

You say, "Maybe the best definition for beauty is something that inspires the observer to..."

You say, "Oh, right, that..."

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Tremula's lips.

You say, "Even within that definition, though, inspiration is a large part of art."

Shedrin looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

The sound of buffeting wings is briefly audible.

A brown, springy pony with fluffy wings trundles in from the northeast.

Aeden gives the world a smart salute.

Aeden steps down off of a brown, springy pony with fluffy wings.

You say, "To borrow the example of the play within the discussion, if the play had become a success,
and had earned Lady Windwhisper the coin she wished, then might it not be said that the execution
had been beautiful? Or that her patrons had been properly inspired to give..?"

Shedrin Shevat says to you, "Hmm."

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "You could
say so, I suppose. In that case either the beauty would be a trait of the play which led to its
success, or else beauty is a quality of the success itself rather than the play."

A brown, springy pony with fluffy wings trundles off to the northeast.

You have emoted: Luce closes his eyes and flattens his ears.

Nall flashes you a joyous smile.

Shedrin Shevat says, "Perhaps Beauty is effectivness of inspiring emotional responses."

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "I am
prepared to accept that definition."

Shedrin Shevat says, "And then if such, then terrifying acts can be defined as Beautiful."

Chairman Pejat Shevat, the Shaper of Systems states, "I define the Higher Emotion of Beauty as the
ability to organize and shape information so that it is quickly and potently understood."

Cold, clean breezes eddy through the air, driven indoors by the constant winds that buffet the city.

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "Shedrin's
conclusion is entirely reasonable. The Chairman's definition could likewise be accepted for the sake
of argument, although it seems to me that it diverges so far from the common use as to be inferior."

Waving a paw to one side, you say, "But what of those cases where it is used to describe an
exceptionally well-executed example of a technical skill, with no inherent emotional response to be
gleaned."

You purse your lips pensively, gazing off into the distance as you carefully gather your thoughts.

Kallista Aedonis Tremula, Lady Potentate says, "Then there is no feeling within the art, and whether
or not it is aesthetically pleasing, it will never be truly beautiful."

Chairman Pejat Shevat, the Shaper of Systems says, "It is important to make a distinction between
beauty and the Higher Emotion of Beauty."

Air Neophyte Nall says, "To quantify something like beauty into a definition, and to say that one
definiton could possibly do so, is futile..beauty is evoked by numerous factors, to define it, one
would have to consider all aspects of it."

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says to Nall, "Then
either we accept beauty as subjective, which means it can be quantified in relative terms, or we
provide a definition which is broad enough to consider all factors, no?"

A redolent aroma envelops Shedrin as a gentle breeze wafts striking petals of carnelian hue about
him, fluttering gaily like streamers on the wind.

Air Neophyte Nall says, "Each individual factor then is determined by the relativity of the person
who is trying to understand. And Aye Sir, one could view it as subjective or as a board definition.
But does doing so take a bit of the life from it?"

Air Neophyte Nall says, "Beauty is beautiful, what makes it beautiful is relative....no?"

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says to Nall, "Not
at all. It produces an accurate understanding, which is a very useful thing. The artist is a workman
like any other, and he must understand all the tools of his trade."

Slowly sounding an idea out, you say, "Maybe such a definition might be 'that which draws a thing
closer to perfection'..?"

Air Neophyte Nall says to you, "Imperfections are also beautiful no?"

A pure black nightmare emits a blood-curdling whinny as she stomps the roiling clouds beneath her.

You say, "Contrast evokes the whole better than a complete example alone."

You say, "To make something sweeter, add a little spice."

Air Neophyte Nall says, "Salt with sugar."

Nall nods his head emphatically.

Shedrin ponders the situation.

Air Neophyte Nall says, "...now I'm hungry."

Chairman Pejat Shevat, the Shaper of Systems asks, "Shall I gather edible supplies?"

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "This matter
deserves to be examined thoroughly, I think. I shall have to prepare an essay."

Pejat nods his head at Portius, showing his acceptance.

Air Neophyte Nall says to Portius, "A suggestion if I may?"

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "Certainly."

Air Neophyte Nall says, "Music..."

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "What about
it?"

Air Neophyte Nall says, "I think if you were to use music, instead of an essay.."

Air Neophyte Nall says, "I mean, erm."

Nall blushes furiously.

Pejat tilts his head curiously at Nall.

Air Neophyte Nall says, "Beauty is not something that can be essayed in my young and likely ignorant
opinion...I think it takes a scientific approach to an emotion which is hardly scientific."

Kallista Aedonis Tremula, Lady Potentate says, "Music is just as scientific as an essay, it is just
the method of delivery which is altered."

Air Neophyte Nall says, "If I work on a delicate crystal, a hammer is a way I can do so, but likely
not the best way."

Air Neophyte Nall says, "But jewellers tools, now...that works."

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "We shall put
that idea to the test, then. Let us see what I can produce."

Air Neophyte Nall says to Portius, "Sorry if I intrude...I likely do not know much yet."

Nall chuckles long and heartily.

Chairman Pejat Shevat, the Shaper of Systems states, "This is a time for open discussion."

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says to Nall, "Not
at all. But we must put things to experiment, no?"

Nall nods his head sagely at Portius.

Air Neophyte Nall says, "Only way to find out is to...find out."

The corners of Nall's mouth turn up as he grins mischievously.

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "Just so.
Although an epic is more in line with my skills than a symphony, I must say."

Kallista Aedonis Tremula, Lady Potentate asks, "What is the reason for laws of prohibition towards
beverages of an alcoholic nature within the Collective?"

Tremula points a violin of serrated bones and tendons at Portius.

Shedrin closes his eyes for a moment as he tilts his head back.

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "Drunkeness
dulls the mind and incites the body to violence."

Air Neophyte Nall says, "Yet we make ourselves ignorant of things we may miss."

Air Neophyte Nall says, "The combination of herbs and spices, distilled essences of flowers and
fruits."

Silk swaying about her lithesome crystal body, a city comptroller enters from the northeast.

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Tremula's lips.

You say, "I mostly just use it as a marinade..."

Air Neophyte Nall says, "There's a difference in drunkeness and sipping a nice tea or drink."

Shedrin snorts and snuffles at the air through a ridiculous pig nose.

Air Neophyte Nall says, "Public drunkeness just makes an ass out of yourself."

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says to you, "Well,
the boiling point of alcohol is quite low. A negligible amount should remain in anything that is
cooked after marinading."

Portius snorts and snuffles at the air through a ridiculous pig nose.

Silk swaying in gentle wisps about her arms, a city comptroller leaves to the northeast.

Cold, clean breezes eddy through the air, driven indoors by the constant winds that buffet the city.

Chairman Pejat Shevat, the Shaper of Systems says, "Pardon."

Pejat gives the world a smart salute.

Tremula inclines her head politely to Pejat.

With a flourish of his arm, Nall bows deeply.

Nall leaves, following Chairman Pejat Shevat, the Shaper of Systems.
Pejat leaves to the northeast, emanating an aura of immense power.

You say, "I know, I just felt the need to clarify the bottle of whiskey."

You cough softly.

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Tremula's lips.

Kallista Aedonis Tremula, Lady Potentate says, "Luckily, prohibition does not apply to me by rule of
my entrance to the Overcity."

The faint whispers of myriad observations echo around Portius as he examines his surroundings with a
keen and critical eye.

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "Hm. If we
are dispersing, I believe I should begin a brief hibernation."

Tremula nods her head sagely at Portius.

Bibliophulax Aristos Teknistos Portius Windwhisper, Megalokalos Niketer Tarochos says, "Do be well,
comrades."

With a flourish of his arm, Portius bows deeply.

You wave goodbye.

Shedrin inclines his head politely to those around him.

Portius gives Tremula a peck on the cheek.

Tremula gives Portius a peck on the cheek.