The Leonine Games [Afternoon 1]

[Nirilli]

"It's settled then. Now, let's take our seats. The Archon has arrived, so we can expect the race to begin any moment now."

And indeed, Irene Ptolemaios was just taking her seat. The crowd started quieting down in tense anticipation, looking straight up to the top of the Oon.

Nirilli smiled. "The gardens are breath-taking. There is so much to see and learn."

She took a seat with room on either side, once Lady Salomea suggested that they sit. She focused her attention toward the Archon, her mistress. Ah, all their preparations had her looking stunning!

And then she too looked up to the top of the Oon where Pankratos would surely make his appearance.

And then a glance back to see where everyone had chosen to sit.

[Emcas]

The spiders had deployed their webs quickly, it would seem. Emcas did not like the way things had turned but he would be patient, now was the time for the Archon's spectacle.

He did not take a seat, preferring instead to stand guard by the entrance

[Hadrian Martikova]

He neither wavered, nor hesitated in answering Xanthe's mother with the same cheerful tonality he had adopted previously.

"A gracious offer, truly."

A non-answer to an offer he had no intention of taking up. And as soon as social convention might allow, he intended to escape with Laila. Assuming escape was even remotely possible.

Hadrian found his seat without ceremony. Positioned that he might keep Laila in his periphery. Eyes facing forward, and very likely away from Xard and Cuyler.

[Kannon]

The Archon rose and stretched her hands, her himation parting like wings of a qaraa. She stood unmoved until the Oon didn't turn silent. The hand facing the west was more elevated. Her voice, powerful, resonant, with sweet undertones, carried very well throughout Oon, likely with the assistance of many sound amplifiers.

"By the will of the Padishah Emperor
By the power vested in my house,
By the calling of my ancient ancestry,
By the grace of my rule and the glory of my ruled -

I hereby will the Nemean Games to commence!"

On that command, a large standard representing a mythological Nemean Lion unfurled from the Archon's grandstand, and four gates of the Apex opened, each adjacent to one of the Eyes. The suspensor platforms started their descent. They were transparent, shimmering with light colour, so the raging lions and their chariots could be seen from below before the charioteers would be. But everybody who had been in Nikeion before would know the names.

Pankratos, arriving with the Western Wind - Zephyros.
Dyrrachion, arriving with the Southern Wind - Notos.
Ben Ghali, arriving with the Eastern Wind - Euros.
Nimais, arriving with the Northern Wind - Boreas.

Waves of hands directed as the winds would rolled over all across the Oon as groups of fans started to manifest their allegiance. It was not a difficult thing to observe that most of the hands, like the Archon's, were pointing west.

Politics as spectacle.
Spectacle as politics.

[Laila Bridger]

"You are not wrong, and many a Proctor would accept just this. But I prefer to see it less cynically. On a more fundamental level, there's value in long-term planning and staying the course, and there is value in deviation, which can bring novelty and adaptability. I believe ours must be a winding road that in the end satisfies no overly principled soul. I often wonder, through Sisters in extremis, are we not hedging bets against the rowdiness of the universe?"

Laila could swear that Cordana... had genuine fun talking with her. There was some agenda, of course, but she didn't seem to be hell-bent on getting there, as if there was much to cherish on the way.

"With respect, you're stronger than I am if you can find less-awful motives in any organization in this universe of ours. From what I've seen, Houses, the Guild, the orders, the whole Imperium treats people like... fuel for their engines. No one is just allowed to be. You're forever getting caught in the crossfire while some faction that has nothing to do with you has it out with another equally indifferent organization."

She had worked herself into a sort of controlled fury, which subsided, the younger woman almost seeming to deflate.

"Everyone's so caught up in purpose and politics and in maintaining the systems in place because they know how to navigate them that they see people as things. Units. Casualty figures, resources, test subjects. I... can't do that."

She paused.

"I won't do that, I should say. Too much experience being treated as a thing myself. Vidal, Ecaz, Tleilaxu, Atreides. And until you, every Bene Gesserit I've encountered."

As the race started, she managed not to point at the Archon, but the direction of her gaze was hard to miss.

"People like that one, they think their games somehow matter more than the people who make their lifestyle possible because they're raised thinking the game is the thing."

[Nirilli]

The Archon rose and stretched her hands, her himation parting like wings of a qaraa. She stood unmoved until the Oon didn't turn silent. The hand facing the west was more elevated. Her voice, powerful, resonant, with sweet undertones, carried very well throughout Oon, likely with the assistance of many sound amplifiers.

...

Nirilli watched the Archon, heart lifted in admiration and pride. Her Mistress was so inspiring!

[Kannon]

"Why respect, Laila? Most of me is the product of the system you so openly loathe, and for very good reasons. Disrespect would flow more naturally."

Cordana chuckled.

"Be, or live? I am curious what you have in mind. What you are witnessing is hardly a monument of degeneration and decline. It is a vigorous revival of things terribly ancient, getting close to the bottom of our experience as species. In fact, something that established us as species. That time long ago when we first managed to murder and root out those stronger and sturdier than us but unable to organise in large numbers around ridiculous common beliefs just as well. Is your longing after something even more primitive, with power limited to instinctive, incidental violence? Then it would no longer be human."

She sighed, looking at the raging lions, and got more serious.

"But in the end, you have already answered yourself. With potency I find terrifying. No human is just allowed to be. If there is a future which makes just being possible, it must yet be invented. You know what you reject. Do you know what you approve? Can you imagine the opposite of this?"

She gently gestured forth. The question was as far from rhetorical as one could be. Cordana made it clear through the way she asked it that she regrettably could not, and not for the lack of trying.

[Laila Bridger]

"But in the end, you have already answered yourself. With potency I find terrifying. No human is just allowed to be. If there is a future which makes just being possible, it must yet be invented. You know what you reject. Do you know what you approve? Can you imagine the opposite of this?"

She gently gestured forth. The question was as far from rhetorical as one could be. Cordana made it clear through the way she asked it that she regrettably could not, and not for the lack of trying.

"One should always respect danger where it is recognized, Reverend Mother. But to answer your question..."

She looked out over the impressive spectacle, the throngs, the lions, the whole damned thing.

"I wasn't human after Grumman. I looked human, I could make human sounds, but I was in a death spiral. I'd crawl into a bottle to keep the nightmares under control and try not to think. And you know what woke me up to my humanity? Sharing. That vintner and I, we had physical attraction from the outset, but it was in being vulnerable with one another that we moved beyond just... screwing. I let myself want. More than just gratification, I let myself want a future. Let myself think about what I wanted. Then I got.... captured and dosed by that little grey monster, and.... I don't recall it all clearly. It did something- that vow, I'd never heard it before, so how did I know it? Anyway. I just know that Xard, and Kiran, and Duncan and I, we got ourselves out of it together. The drug haze, and later, after we woke up. Together, not because we were ordered to, and not for mere self-survival, because we could easily have abandoned our weaker links to hasten our own flight. We didn't do that. We answered coercion with cooperation, and we carried out everyone we could. All of this..."

And here, she did gesture to encompass the Oon.

"... this is impressive, and it fits the society of Harmonthep, I guess, based on how everyone seems enraptured by it, but also feels like a means of control. A way to keep most of the people here from thinking too hard about their own situations. Thoughtless masses are easy to control. People just trying to get by while the system they're caught in grinds them away every day will never question it. They won't have the time. And those who benefit, they know to leaven direct control with the odd treat here and there. They build in little release valves to keep the pressure from making too many boil over. They try to keep things the same. But that which doesn't adapt will die."

[Cuyler Gray]

Cuyler sat with Xard, seemingly focused on the view more than whomever else might be nearby.

[Sister Shinah]

At the announcement of the start of the games, Shinah met Salomea's look.

She gestured, rather than speak, despite - or perhaps because of - the noise of the crowd.

Details? She inquired. May as well learn of the lay of the land.

[Kannon]

Cordana had listened intently.

"I find no major flaw in how you reflect on yourself and on what you see, Laila. The elements are there, they might yet align into something greater, but I am reluctant to rush that alignment. You have come to prefer human responses to inhumanity you have become sensitised to seeing so acutely. Not many do, you see. Perhaps think of this: at the very basic level, the tribe you have made is purely circumstantial. All that has bound you with them could have happened with many of those tens of thousands of excited people before you now were they to be trapped in a similar crucible. Your tribe feels unique because it is with them you have shared threshold moments. But if you stretch your empathy a little bit, and I know you can, you will realise these are all yours. Or at least could be. That realisation brings about a terrible conundrum: how does humanity you espouse scale up."

The Reverend Mother took a deeper breath and tried to roll her shoulder.

"I like humans, you see."

[Kannon]

At the announcement of the start of the games, Shinah met Salomea's look.

She gestured, rather than speak, despite - or perhaps because of - the noise of the crowd.

Details? She inquired. May as well learn of the lay of the land.

Fingers responded.

The favourite. High likelihood. Tleilaxu ghola. Strings out of sight.

[Kannon]

Cuyler sat with Xard, seemingly focused on the view more than whomever else might be nearby.

"I must say I have never seen anything like this, even at the Hassik III Centre in Corrinth." Xard whispered, a bit surprised how it all was getting into him. "I think I am going to root for the lady." He pointed to the Nimais' chariot.

[Laila Bridger]

"But if you stretch your empathy a little bit, and I know you can, you will realise these are all yours. Or at least could be. That realisation brings about a terrible conundrum: how does humanity you espouse scale up."

The Reverend Mother took a deeper breath and tried to roll her shoulder.

"I like humans, you see."

"Oh, I don't blame the mass of humanity here. It's hard to recognize a cage you grew up in- I'm opposed to those who hold the keys and sit on them."

Despite herself, Laila found herself getting to... like the Bene Gesserit.

"But I also know none of these people would thank me for pointing out the things they do recognize. They're... like I was when I was drinking to forget."

[Cuyler Gray]

"I must say I have never seen anything like this, even at the Hassik III Centre in Corrinth." Xard whispered, a bit surprised how it all was getting into him. "I think I am going to root for the lady." He pointed to the Nimais' chariot.

She smiled, pleased that he seemed to have found some measure of enjoyment. "I think I will too. I don't really know enough to choose a favorite of my own."

[Nirilli]

As the racers took their places, Nirilli joined the crowd in cheering.

She did not usually get to cheer out loud, but it seemed reasonable to do so today. Seated. Watching.

Her own cheer was: "Pankratos! Pankratos!"

[Hadrian Martikova]

Hadrian... was bored. So frikkin bored. Not one iota of this sort of thing appealed to him. He found himself wishing a seaweed cigar would manifest for him to smoke.

Still, to maintain his cover he cheered when appropriate. Booo'd when appropriate. And as long as grey eyes wasn't winning the former outnumbered the latter.

[Emcas]

Emcas had no favorite or any affinity for the sport...He did not quite like lions either.

However if he had to choose he would choose one of his own people

[Kannon]

When the platforms settled on the equatorial plane, the race began immediately, without further warning. The explanation presented itself just as platforms left behind slowly sank into the force field below. It was the same property of the Holtzman field everybody knew - slow motion penetrates, fast motion is repelled - just used in the opposite fashion. Whatever racer would stop or move too slow, they would start falling down. And it was high.

By then the spectators would long have noticed that the lions were actually wearing blindfolds, and whatever was happening under those blindfolds must have been propelling them as there was no whip or reins in any of the charioteer's hands.

When the first lap began, their own balcony, as well as any other viewing spot above the equator, suddenly rose along its meridian to a higher point from which the race could be observed directly. It was still pretty close from where they sat, the chariots and the lions veering off the edge mere metres from their seats, to the point they could observe the faces of the competitors to minor details.

Pankratos took a lead immediately, and made it look easy. His expression was focused, but rather carefree. Though in the end it was hard to read from his metallic eyes. Layla would recall similar ones - those of Chaen Marek. Nirilli could swear her favourite smirked passing her by.



Dyrrachion, on the other hand, seemed desperate, and frustrated he couldn't edge an early transfer up as his speed was insufficient when he was passing under. His anger at observing Pankratos' back was palpable.

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Nimais had a feral glare to her eyes. She apparently both wanted to prove a point and was having fun from the adrenaline. Her affinity with the lions seemed better than most, but her skill was a bit improvised, like a talented debutante, which she could not in the end have been, being pre-selected to top four to take part in the Nemean Games.

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Ben Ghali, Emcas and Nirilli would know, was still a slave. His was cold resolve, but also perhaps ruthlessness. With Bacri's example fresh in every Zensunni mind, transcendence seemed within reach. Alas, his manoeuvres were haphazard, perhaps a testament to insufficient skill or a more underhanded tactic to stall the rivals from ascending.

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[Kannon]

She smiled, pleased that he seemed to have found some measure of enjoyment. "I think I will too. I don't really know enough to choose a favorite of my own."

"When in doubt, follow the ginger?" Xard risked a piece of humour just as the chariot swished before his eyes.