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Feb 22, 2020 2:44 PM
mohd dandelion in Amenta
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She doesn't go on the mission-proper, doesn't leave the safehouse. It should have been safe, even if she had, with her maintained habit of resisting any changes someone else tried to apply to her. 

That someone might have the ability to copy her, power and all, she wouldn't have guessed from the initial reports on the disturbance. That he might have followers with power of their own was always a possibility, when one of those with followers came onto her radar. 

She had not been expecting to be forked. She had doubly not been expecting to be sent--wherever this was. Of course, nothing in that particular clusterfuck was expected. 

She supposes her primary instance would think she was dead. Fair enough, if she never manages to get back, which wouldn't surprise her, given that she had never seen people with hair like that on Earth. 

She looks down from her musings of just how badly everything had gone to hell to the Forsworn who had been sent with her. Convenient, that, even if nothing else was. She supposes it would be more convenient if it were one with powers, but oh well, at least her forktwin didn't lose any critical resources. She'd rather have someone she could trust in their own right, but she couldn't deny that a Forsworn was useful. She remembers which one this one was, and what he did that she had no choice but to claim him like that, and does not feel remorse that he's trapped here with her. 

She wakes him. 

He rises to his feet smoothly, waiting for orders. 

She makes him know what's going on. She makes him know where they are. 

He explains everything. 

...Well. 

She won't be bored, here, at least. 

Five minutes later, a man and a woman walk out of a delivery alley, both with purple hair and in clothes approximating the local purple fashion. 

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Nobody takes particular notice of them, except for one streetsweeper who kinda checks out the man but doesn't say anything about it.

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The last time she was starting from nothing she at least had a legal identity and a place to stay. This will be trickier. 

She has her Forsworn borrow someone's everything, claiming to have just broken his own, and look up a few things. 

Moving inconspicuously through this city isn't hard. Moving inconspicuously through cities never is. 

Getting into a blue's house is harder, but not by as much as it could have been. It should probably have occurred to her to wonder whether the same knock-out drugs would work on these people before she took out the security guard, but oh well, you live and you learn, and the guard is out like a light and not going into anaphylatic shock so she's going to call it fine. 

She changes her hair blue and her Forsworn's hair grey and sits on the couch with perfect poise and waits for the blue to come home. 

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This will alarm the resident's cook, who lets himself in an hour and a half before dinnertime to get food on the table for the blue.

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Woops that person can be unconscious too. This is really not what she had planned but in her defense she does her planning much better under circumstances less gratuitously unfamiliar than this. She picks up the cook and puts him somewhere out of the way but comfy enough they're not gonna wake up sore. 

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Kamuor Insho lets herself into the house and is even more surprised than the cook was (the cook could have been uninformed about a known guest; Kamuor herself knows better).

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"Hello," she says, and has the Forsworn repeat in Oahkar. "I apologize for the unfriendliness of my intrusion. I couldn't think of any other way to get my point across discreetly." She stands up, and her eyes flash blue and her hair turns black and her clothing shifts back to her preferred jacket-over-tank-top and cargo pants. Scales creep up her face and over the exposed skin of her hands, shimmer through the full spectrum of color, and recede. "I'm an alien, and a powerful one, but I did not come here under my own power and have no desire to overturn everything by going prematurely public. I do have things I need in order to exercise my power to its fullest extent, and there are numberless benefits I can provide--both to the world in general and to anyone I was personally allied with." 

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"- I, uh. I. Are you visiting lots of people simultaneously, or -"

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"No. I am limited to one physical location at a time. If your next question is why I chose you, the answer is because your house was the closer than any other comparably low-security blue residence I could find. I am at this time weaker than I have been since I was an adolescent, as a result of having come here not under my own power." 

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"Oh. Do - you want me to refer you to someone better connected -"

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"Not necessarily. Someone better connected would most likely also have more of a specific agenda that they would be inclined to manipulate me in pursuit of, and I don't care to attempt to navigate that while I don't yet understand local culture fully." 

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"Oh. - where's Imuro?"

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"Both the security guard I had to get past to get in and the person who came in later were sedated harmlessly and relocated somewhere they wouldn't be sore when they woke up." 

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"Oh. - Pardon me; my name's Kamuor Insho."

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"No pardon required; I'm Rhonda Wallace. This is James McElroy," she adds, gesturing to the Forsworn. 

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"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Can I get you anything?" says Kamuor.

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"I'm alright for the moment. Is there any--gesture of good faith that I could make, that would in some way act as reparations for my rudeness in how I introduced myself?" 

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"Oh, that won't be necessary," Kamuor assures her. "Are my guard and cook going to remember anything?"

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"They'll remember me sticking them with a needle growing out of my finger; the sedative doesn't have any amnestic effects." 

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"I'll do my best to smooth that over. So you don't wind up prematurely public."

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"If they cared to make a fuss I'm certain I could disappear before anything could be confirmed, but that would be significantly inconvenient; I appreciate it." 

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Kamuor nods. "What are your short-term priorities and plans that I can help you with?"

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"I want to learn the language, familiarize myself with local customs and networks, and figure out what problems people here have." 

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"How does your translator know the language?"

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"I have power over that which is within my dominion, and he is sworn to me. My ability to use this reflexively is limited; my body I can alter to my heart's content, but my mind I can affect only indirectly."

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"Oh, I - see. I can try to find you a discreet tutor. I have a guest room and don't entertain too many visitors to make it hard to keep them all away for some time."

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