#pyanfar

My biggest embroidery project so far, I think. Based on the character Pyanfar Chanur from CJ Cherryh’s great series that I just read, and have been completely obsessed with.

I wanted to practice fur texture and start working on making metals and shading, so who better than a Hani with her earrings? Pretty pleased with how it turned out, I think I stretched the fabric a bit much and as such the background is pretty warped. I made the stars in an approximation of the shape of compact space, with Pyanfar’s big ol’ pearl earring in the place of Anuurn. Felt right.

Took about two weeks of on-off sewing after work.

The airlock hissed closed behind her as the silken tufts at her tail’s extremity whipped out of harm’s way, a semi-autonomous entity toying with its own demise. That sound - so soft and yet so distinct - brought a special relief, assurance, finally, of solitude. Pyanfar felt her shoulders slump forward like those of sullen Mahi deck lingerer - Gods, she thought, if Hilfy were to see me now she might well throw every stern word I’ve ever said to her out with the next expulsion.

She thought of galactic garbage because one such deposit was, at this moment, making its way past a crescent shaped void. Little pieces of engineering waste glinted in the darkness as they dispersed. She’d cut out this crescent moon from an old vulcanised fibre sheet and stuck it against the inch of plexi-glass between her room, her space - and the space outside. This window decoration, among other personalised features of Pyanfar’s quarters betrayed a much gentler, and perhaps more idealistic self than the hardnose pragmatist her days and nights uniformed on deck required.

There was the diamond shaped container of a red neon goo that, when heated, would bounce, break and mould with the rest of itself in a soothing tide. This thing, a ‘lava lamp,’ the human had called it, was so quaint, so trivial in it’s essential proposition and yet, Pyanfar found it amazing and could lose herself for hours at a time, gazing happily in the knowledge that there was no hidden motivation. Just a gentle ebb and flow.

She liked to flick her pointed ears lazily back and forth, pausing as her pendant pearl earring teetered and fell onto the other side. She removed her gold arm band and laid it down on the small surface, beside the room’s central control unit.

“Yes,” she sighed. “Time for some luxuriant tech…”

“Relaxing mist,” She almost whispered after activating the voice command system. And soon, a light blanket of mist rippled in anti-gravity relation with the roof. It was time now for a drink - “something to take the edge off” she enacted for herself. How fun it was to play! Perhaps she could allow herself another ridiculous human artefact she’d whisked away from the mistaken cargo collection in the hold. What had Tully called it? Ah yes, a ‘martini’ glass.

Despite its gaudy appearance, this vessel was actually very convenient for her tightly curled claws. The delicate glass stem sat nicely between her knuckles. She liked to let it droop before squeezing and arcing it back to equilibrium. But that awful transparent mixture with the green pellet - that was where the role play ended. 

Pyanfar poured herself a half strength rum and coke, swirling the glass as she went so as to flatten the cola to her liking. One led to seven, and quite soon, Pyanfar was feeling pure impulse. She ran her red gold mane up against the arm of her ottoman, pushed up and cleared the top of it, then slowly slid head first down the other side, coming to rest in a glorious pile beside the platinum claw shaped foot that glinted and mimicked her own. Pyanfar brought hers over it. “More mist…” She whispered.