<span style="color: #BF80FF"><span style="font-style: italic">"Anywhere with culture,"</span></span>she said.<span style="color: #BF80FF"><span style="font-style: italic">"Places where people sing or dance or tell stories. Show me the architecture--the very edges of the catacombs. Show me where people live down here, where they work, and where they are left after death. Also, show me anything and everything that you consider beautiful."</span></span><br/><br/>Uriel felt cold, like all the passion was seeping out of her body and her blood was losing its warmth. Her task would have been so much easier if what had existed of the human culture on the surface hadn't already been burnt down. What she had to work with now was a hasty and cheep replica, born to aid in survival and little more. Art and architecture would be more impressive to the council, but it may come down to just the creatures themselves. When it came to that... well... there weren't many young species which could present themselves winningly to the intergalactic council. It was usually the end of the line. It would come down to which specimens she presented--and love-sick Ryan wouldn't bring a great deal of credibility to her case.<br/><br/><span style="color: #BF80FF"><span style="font-style: italic">"Show me your culture,"</span></span>she finished.