"I'd like to know more about what that means first?" says Hepka.

Proof that she needs it, he thinks to himself. "For a bit more than an hour, you will be braver; your thoughts clearer, your actions more precise, your reactions more robust. We consider it harmless."

"And it work regardless of target species and doesn't make people do reckless things?"

"I have cast on several different species without issue." There is a wrinkle if she has spell resistance, but that would just confuse things to bring up. "It does not impart wisdom, but it imparts bravery, not recklessness. You should feel more in control of yourself, not less." 

"I'll try it," says Ashuao.

It is fast; words not in Tapap, gestures that a hand would not normally make, and a touch, over in a few seconds.

"- huh, I feel that. It's like... I want to say it's like I always imagined being the opposite of drunk would be?"

"Huh! Opposite of drunk and more courageous?"

"Yeah, like it wraps around or something."

He smiles. "No-mind."

"See, that sounds like a really bad mental state to be in when you call it that, but this state is instead great. I'd maybe call it propensity to flow."

He shrugs. "You have an hour; I suggest making good use of it. This is one of my more draining spells, and one I often use for myself; I can do it about a handful of times a day. I think I will check in with my wife."

"Yeah, go write a report, we'll cover for you if the blues ask."

Ashuao nods and disappears into one of the offices.

The chore purple with the security clearance arrives, is introduced as Saaski Mihent, and wants to know what the resident aliens normally like to eat so she can approximate it as well as possible with local ingredients, and also take their measurements and solicit parameters for their preferred clothing styles.

She has lots of opinions, but the translation spell can only do so much. A photo on the pocket everything confirms that their "beef" does not come from a cow. She suggests something like the Mendevian buffet style, which will allow them to smell the foods, rather than picking by description or sight.

The clothing styles need to be a mix of performatively local and reminiscent of Cheliax or Taldor. She'll want to blend in while selecting her attaché, and does not trust the purple to understand the subtle distinctions that a blue would read from the various options; she'll need to wait for the attaché before finishing her wardrobe. But she can describe the basic daily needs, for both her and Felip, and select from the photos she's shown.

The purple's brought fabric swatches in case alien skin is sensitive to certain Amentan fibers or anything, and if they're not, she'll get right on ordering them changes of clothes and lots of snackboard type things to try.

She seems remarkably uninterested in how they feel, compared to how they look, their cultural significance, and their expense. She does compliment the softness.

As part of talking about clothes, it becomes clear that Isidonia is sewn into her current dress, and will need help to get out of it tonight.

"...wow," says Mihent. "Okay, the nightclothes will be here in less than half an hour, but I can also order a seamripper."

He gives her a hug from behind, feeling her body melt into his.

She's tense; she's tired. Her composure isn't cracking but her mind is racing, too many threads to chase down at once.

He lets go and addresses Mihent. "It was night when we left our home, and day here when we arrived; I imagine we've been awake much longer than you have. We will have dinner as soon as possible and then retire for the night."

"You got it. Dietary restrictions at all?" She's looking over the snackboard to see what they turned out to be partial to.

Detect Poison. Thankfully, magic and smell seem to think all of the foods are edible.

They favor the fruits, and the sweets, and Felip tries out all of the meats. They move slowly on several of the spiced snacks, carefully considering. Felip excitedly shares one with Isidonia; several of them get middling reviews, and a few merit grimaces.

When Mihent thinks she has the gist she gets express grocery delivery - fruit salad and rotisserie chicken and cake - and they can have it on the table in less than fifteen minutes from her placing the order.

She's carefully observing the blues and greens as dinner appears. Does anything stand out to her about their reactions?

They're letting the aliens serve themselves first. Patkeon, the blue intern, is asking Mihent if she needs anything the kitchen doesn't have for future "less sudden" meals; she checks but says it looks fine. Ashuao is avoiding the fruit salad.

The aliens are not expecting to serve themselves!