Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,

What's That? [6 Consimbs 4261]

Vae's home was not immediately comprehensible. I waved the Eye of Mirizan and Melizan around in the suitable ways. A few things got more comprehensible, but not a whole lot so. So the conversation mostly went:

Me:"What's that?"

Vae:"It's... " And then she'd switch to the Nice Language to explain it more carefully. Not that the Nice Language is particularly good at technical magic (it's worse than Ketherian by half) but she always talks that around me when she can.

And so...

Me:"What's that vast hollow cavity which we are suspended in the middle of, of which the walls are subtly veined in light brown on medium brown, and of which the scent is peculiarly spicy?"

Vae:"It is the greeting-room of my home. At one time, it was a galangal root. In some sense, it still is, though it has been stretched to be some dozens of yards in each direction. The scent is the original galangal scent, plus a dozen other herbs which I arrange and describe with a Cani-like precision "

(No, O monsters, of course she didn't say that. She just described them with Cani-like precision. Cursed nendrai tongues, that smell better than Cani!)

Me:"And what is this surface which we are standing on, which is transparent, and faintly warm, and enjoys a pale silky texture?"

Vae:"It is the floor of my greeting-room. It was, originally, the wishbone of a sparrow which I had daintily but brutally devoured when I first arrived in Vheshrame. Now it is a very thin edge, rather like the edge of a universe, although, of course, the universes on both sides are mine."

Me:"Your personal one?"

Vae:"Well, one that had, previously, been the beak of that sparrow."

Me:"You turned some table scraps into a pocket universe to live in?"

Vae:"The yes -- and is that impolite somehow? And or against Vheshrame's law?"

Me:"Noooo ... I'm afraid that I did not fully appreciate the full variety of things that hypertrophied Mutoc Locador can do. Not even after those ridiculous pastry boxes."

Vae:"No, I didn't want to make a huge home in Vheshrame's territory -- it would be too ostentatious, like. The I wanted a home big enough to stretch around and, well, rampage a bit, though." She talks like that when she's distressed, and it sounds just as odd in the Nice Language. I didn't pay attention though.

Me:"Is a pocket universe made out of leftovers less ostentatious than a giant home? "

At which point we had to take a break from the tour-or-interrogation, and get her to stop crying, and then have her heal her eyes, and then get her to stop howling from the pain.

Me:"What is that slowly rotating ovoid with the slowly waving protrusions over yonder, between the hideous crescent-shaped mask and the inside-out thing which I very much hope is not a Gormoror?"

Vae:"No, I don't know."

Me:"You don't know?"

Vae:"The I took it from a wrecked skyship."

Me:"A prime skyship?"

Vae:"No, not that. A long ways further down."

Me:"And that other thing ... is it an inside-out Gormoror?"

Vae:"The truly it is, and one of those who assaulted Greenspikes at that, until I figure out what to do with it."

Me:"Could we go outside for a bit?"

Vae:"Oh, the we can, Sythyry! And what is wrong? The you don't look at all well."

I should imagine I didn't. But going outside really wasn't the best choice.

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