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[AndromacheNY]

The dinner begins to wind down. Platters cease to refill endlessly though cravings are still answered and glasses still refill. As the light of dawn begins to creep through the great dining room windows, Piotr and Natalya smile at the avatars and prepare to excuse themselves to go home.

"I am expecting at least three patients before the agora begins its business hours." Piotr explains regretfully.

"And we have a small commune of kittens and two leeches at home who will be wanting breakfast soon." Natalya nods. "but it was a pleasure meeting all of you."

Andromache addresses her guests. "I'm afraid I'll be needing a little sleep myself before the girls wake up and want my attention, but you are all my guests and welcome to stay and make yourselves comfortable. There are guest rooms available for anyone who may be tired."

[LucasJamison]

About the time his glass stops refilling, Lucas Jamison is no longer present.

[Des]

About the time his glass stops refilling, Lucas Jamison is no longer present.

Des looks up to ask Lucas a quick question and notices he is gone. She places her glass down to her left to signify she is finished, it is customary for her to do this on her world.


(OCC: The eviler of the finals are done. So I'm Back!)

[Yuri_Prime]

The horror of man and science lets out a yawn, curling its tongue and exposing its collection of needle-like teeth, then it looks around and seems visibly embarassed, "S...sorry."

Yuri chuckles, scritching behind Esper's ear, then gives a nod to the vacant area where Lucas was. Afterwards, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the very same pocketwatch he would casually observe prior to the birth of Esper.

"How long??" the Biological Horror perks up, and tries to read the watch face. "Huh? Huh? How long?"

"Seventy two days, Esper... by your math." Yuri smiles, and returns the pocket-watch to its pocket.

Esper brightens, but the brightness dims slowly as she gets that sleepy look in her manufactured eyes. Yuri chuckles softly, gently picking up and cradleing the biological construct, "I think we'll be taking Andromache up on her offer then."

Yuri then looks at Des, then Horace, then around to the other gathered individules here at the table, "It's been a pleasure talking to you all, and I look forward to speaking with you all again soon. I suppose one final piece of advise, if one could call it such... if you are truly interested in making the Nexus a better place for everyone, then find the people who have more on their mind their their own betterment, and more on their mind then the status quo, and keep them off the Council. The Council is not a place to bring your own aspirations, it is not a place to bring your own dreams of power. It is a place for the dreams of the people, and a councilor who does not listen to their people is a trouble waiting to brew."

Yuri will wait for replies, though if none are coming, he will stand and give handshakes or what-not, then turn to Andromache, "Thank you, Andromache, for having us all over. There is much that needed discussion, and much has happened here." and he will nod, then turn towards one of the guest rooms, and put the biological terror to bed...

[AndromacheNY]

Andromache shows [Des?,] Yuri and Esper to their guest rooms. [ooc: She does the same for any other guests who choose to stay the night. please pm me if you decided to stay.]

Though tired after the long evening, she's too wired by the night's events to go immediately to sleep. She clears dishes and such from the massive table, and puts leftovers away. Most cutlery and assorted plates and glasses go directly into the dishwasher, but a few treasured items she washes pensively by hand.

They are not heirlooms of course. She had nothing when she came to the Nexus-- literally. She had arrived wearing nothing but the blood of slaughtered comrades and coworkers-- some she'd even considered friends. She didn't always have so many friends.

Rather, these favorite dishes and servers would have to become new heirlooms, she supposed. They would be something to give Thea and Kay someday when they were older. She would tell them, "These things are special to me. Not nearly so precious as those blessings you can't touch. Never as precious as family or friends, nor any life -- even that of a foe. But I treasure these things because their memory is much older than they are. Your ancestors never touched these things, but in my few scattered memories of those short sunkissed years, I recall our family using things like them. These things make me think of my mother, my grandmother, my father and aunts and cousins... Family is..." even in her thoughts she can't finish.

There are thoughts that make the heart burst. They simply can't fit in the mortal mind.

She sinks her hands into soapy water and washes another bowl, another platter and muses. She had been so long without the things that truly mattered. When she craved connection and love, there had only been drought, only famine. And she had tought herself not to be thirsty nor to feel the pain of hunger. Ambition and excellence were never a replacement, but perfection was time consuming enough to be a good distraction. 

When she slept in those days, she never dreamed of success. For a while her dreams had been painted with the rainbows of the life she had lost. Through the years, as Mnemosyne saw her pain and withdrew in misguided pity, those agonizingly sweet memories disolved like sugar on the tongue. Her dreams had unwoven into confused images and sounds-- symbols that revealed no meanings for her. Until she woke only remembering a rare nightmare. The rest was nothing. The past receded like the tide from her shore, and she'd waited until the sand beneath her feet went from wet to damp and damp to dry and watched the horizon for returning waves, she finally had to leave the beach and move on. It had been a long empty time.

And now she is back on the beach again at last.  She smiles. Making new memories. Ones worth keeping again. Morpheus has returned to her with new dreams. Perhaps with such succulant new memories to tempt Mnemosyne, the goddess of memory will return the past to her as well -- her thread through the labyrinth -- to face the monsters of the past and find the fertile family soil where her roots began.

She needs roots and now she knows she's a different type of tree than she thought. Too long she tried to be a cyprus tree, the emblem of The Cyprian, Aphrodite, which grows straight and tall in its singular passionate focus and stabs into the belly of the sky like the spear of her lover, Ares.

Andromache reflects that some part of her must always be a warrior, but like Athena, she can also be a teacher, a patron, a guide, and a source of cretion and wisdom. There is war for its own sake. War fed by greed, lust, rage and fear. And there is the code of the warrior who would rather laugh and drink--telling stories and discussing philosophy with friends. The warrior who fights to defend order and justice -- nomos and dike, for without these, there can be no peace.

Athena in her aspect of Parthenos is a shrewd and devastationg marshal virgin. "But in the ancient times," Andromache could almost hear her grandmother's voice... "Athena in her aspect of Polias was mother to the city of Athens. Before this nonsense of viginity and a single loyalty to Zeus who claims to be her only parent, Athena walked in the footsteps of her mother Metis, the Titaness who embodies wisdom and cunning. Athena and Poseidon, who was her consort-king before Zeus's jealousy and insccurity drove them apart, ruled and blessed all of Attica with the fruits of the sea and the goddess's blessed olive tree. In those ancient days, when Athena fought it was with the cunning and fury of a wolf defending her pack; and when her children were safe, she tought them to make baskets to gather fruits and all other arts to benefit them not just in war, but in times of Peace. And the people of attica were much happier when Athena was in love. It's no good to be alone. People today would do well to remember that, my Little Owlet with the big eyes. You can fly higher and see farther without a spear in your talons to weigh you down."

Andromache closes her eyes and smiles. "Thank you Mnemosyne."

She would be an olive tree. She would sink her roots deep and extend shade and nourishment for those in want of it. She would draw wisdom and love from the depths and rhythyms of the sea.

She would walk the path of Athena Polias. She would teach her daughters to do the same.

Having finished the last dish, Andromache walks up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom suite. She washes her face and prepares for bed, her mind a swirling mass of colored threads slowly weaving a vision.

Sliding between cool silken sheets, she slips easily into sleep and dreams deeply.

[Mack Ravensline]

Mack stands quietly behind her while she muses. Silently he offers to help her dry, laying a light kiss on the back of her neck.

[AndromacheNY]

As they finish, Andromache silenty slips a hand into his and they head upstairs. Pausing a moment to the sound of sweet soft baby sleep at the nursery door, they walk to her suite and close the door quietly with matching smiles.