The Visitor's Training

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Revision, Nov 6, 2012.

  1. Myla Harkins tugged her jacket on and stood before the mirror, smoothing down her skirt and preparing herself for what was to come. She was about to make the short hoverbus ride onto campus and the walk down the hall that would carry her into the most important room of her life. There, she would be meeting... well, she didn’t know how to describe him. Ambassador was a broad term. Exchange student didn’t quite cover it. However, through some amount of bargaining, through some strange unwillingness for the government to wish to take a direct hand in this situation, the stranger (that was what everyone at the University was calling him) was coming here. To Elmcrest.

    Her professor had told her of this a week ago. She’d been given very little time to adjust, to recover from the fact that his appearance would be a great boon for her thesis on alien adjustment to American human culture, and to use her meager budget to buy clothes worthy of meeting an alien of a rather unknown race.

    The Xyrians. Little was known about them. They weren’t from around these parts and most of the other alien species Myla had encountered knew just as little of them aside from rumors of them being warlike conquerors. But this Xyrian would arrive alone, away from his people, and his request to the governments of the world had been clear: He wished to learn human culture.

    China and Russia had worried that he was a spy, the United States saw it as an opportunity to show fellowship and brotherhood with the Xyrians, Great Britain had made an irreverent television comedy miniseries and was already in post production of it and in talks for more. Myla knew all of this, had studied all of the reactions to this newcomer who would arrive by private shuttle in less than an hour and forever change the course of history for two species … and two people.

    Grabbing her briefcase, her handcomp, and her coffee, she headed out the door, making the quick trip to the school and assuring herself that the meeting room in the cultural xenology building was comfortable, welcoming, and that snacks and drinks were set up. Recorders were ready to log the meeting, translators stood by should they be needed, and the halls were cleared of onlookers. From a small office to one side, Myla’s masters committee watched and waited.
  2. Xortheg Roghdalk was sitting in a rather luxurious, if a little small, seat in the shuttle. The humans had not only agreed to allow him onto their planet to study their culture. No, they had even provided him with a nice ride there. Never had he thought it'd be that easy. Heck, it had almost seemed harder to get off Xyria. But then again, quite a few mercenary shuttles came and went to the planet regularly, and they were easy enough to get a ride off, though it wasn't until the third try the shuttle had actually not gotten shot down before they got away.

    He leaned back in his seat and stretched a bit. He had thought about getting some new, more scholarly clothes before starting his journey towards Terra, yet he decided not to. His dark pants and west would have to do. And the bandoleers and the bags on his belt could be explained away as places to carry notes and whatnot. They didn't know how Xyrian scholars looked anyways. But then again, neither did any Xyrian really, as they didn't have very many of that kind.

    "Having a planet to rule will be great." He thought. Once he had learned about them, how could they stop him anyways? Sure, they'd probably oppose him if he tried to take the planet directly, but Xortheg wasn't like most of his race. He actually had figured out how to manipulate people to his will. A bit, at least. His "servants" tended to die with rather frequently back home. Not his fault, of course. They simply weren't good enough. Didn't doge those bullets and whatnot.

    "We're there about to land, sir." One of the crew suddenly said, bringing him out of his thoughts. "And you should probably wear this and set to your own language when you get there." He continued, handing him a small device to put in his ear that would translate whatever was said to his own language. A genius little device. Meant that you didn't have to learn any languages just because you were going off planet. He set the little thing to Xyrian and put it into his ear-hole. He almost hoped for a moment that whoever he was going to meet had forgotten to put in theirs. Could lead to a bit of hilarity. Unless they believed him to simply be roaring at them, that was. Xyrian was mostly roars and growls to others, after all.