Unfortunately Lyla's stay at the Enterprise must be cut short.  After an all-too-fleeting dalliance with Five Days Darkness, they get orders direct from Core that they need Lyla to report to Leanette Akashic Florentine herself.

This is pretty much unprecedented.  The Neomah is a pretty solitary figure, unwilling to interact with people who are not her kind- let alone Solars.  Usually one passes messages to Leanette through the Neomah network and maybe, just maybe, they'd get a reply back in a week.  This means it's something seriously important, and it means that Lyla's the only one for the job.

XO Chambers flies Lyla back to the Last Refuge personally, docking with the massive egg-shaped vessel somewhere near the equator.  After that it's a quick tram ride to the Upperdecks, towards the Neomah section of the upperdecks.  Their spiraling towers encrust the silvery globe of Core like demonic barnacles, kept aloft by Core's own immeasurable gravity.

She's met at the entrance to the Neomah quarters by a drop-dead gorgeous woman with skin the color of cocoa and vivid green eyes.  She wears far too much leather to mean she's a mere flunky- genuine cow leather is rare and expensive these days.  Likewise, her hair starts black and straight and ends in tight curls by her ankles, turning somewhat... spiky.  She's either a Neomah wearing a potent glamour or a half-blood.

"Greetings.  This one is Sonia Asherah Matahari," She says as she touches her chest through a strategically cut hole in her jacket, "This one is to be your assistant during your trip within the Neomah Quarter.  If this one proves to be unacceptable, please let this one know and she will arrange for a more acceptable subordinate."

The fleeting dalliance leaves Lyla still quite amused as she is rushed for another possible mission. It was to be expected that someone would want to talk with her, but never had she thought that it'd be Leanette. The illusive neomah was quite skilled at keeping herself hidden from the gossip circles, even better than her, so she was quite interested in hearing this all out.

Not really having the time or interest, in finding something more presentable, Lyla was stuck with her basic ripped jeans and a loose t-shirt combo, a huge scarf wrapped around her neck. Not that she really minded, it's not like she was auditioning to be a model.

"Nice to meet you. Lyla Raines," Lyla gives a small nod. "I will, though I doubt there'll be a need to."

"Never say never.  Tastes in personalities and other proclivities are always fickle things.  For what it's worth, this one has heard much of you," Sonia tells her and offers her an arm, "And this one specifically requested the assignment.  This one might be considered to be the senior assistant to your opposite number within the Neomah organization."

Opposite number?  It's unlikely she means a pilot or Exalted; it likely means the Neomah have their own specialized intelligence-gathering group.

"Some words of warning.  Leanette Akashic Florentine will not allow you to meet with Core unless Core requests it.  Don't bother asking, it will upset her.  Her official stance is that she and Core are married.  If Core suggests otherwise, smile and nod but don't try to correct her or butt in.  Don't offer her food or drink, especially for a later date.  She will offer that to you if she wishes.  This one would also advise not to bring up politically sensitive topics regarding demons unless you really, really want to discuss them at great depth and for an interminable period.  Any questions?"

There is a slight arch of a brow upon mentioning status within the Neomah organization, or the fact that Sonia seems to know something about her. Gathered people knew Lyla, but her publicity was not much compared to Daniel or Jess. Quite interesting.

"No. No questions regarding the rules. Glad to receive instructions, makes everything easier for everyone."

Lyla hesitates momentarily, before taking up on Sonia's arm.

"What made you want this assignment, the chance to meet me personally? Or do you perhaps have numerous questions to present in the professional mind?"

"This one has worked with several of your contacts in the past.  There is cross-talk between our organizations.  As the old saying, 'Bakers feed farmers, farmers feed bakers'."

That must be a really old saying, because Lyla's never heard of it.  Sonia tightens her arm around Lyla's and walks her into the Neomah warrens:  a comfortable array of what looks like fancy hotel lobbies, with the purple-skinned black-eyed demons lounging about the place or minding their own business.  Only half of them are wearing their glamour.

"This one became especially curious as you are not worshiped as is your due.  Such a- quiet- Exalt is a rarity.  This is even more curious as you have been involved in most major operations." Sonia tilts her head to look at her, "This one is intrigued.  This one says to herself, 'this is someone this one should know'.  This one says to herself, 'this woman is the most dangerous'.  Does that offend?"

"It seems that judging by your name and sayings, you've been around in this business a tad longer than I have," Lyla smiles with a nod, politely not looking around too much.

"Oh, you exaggerate, surely. No offense taken though. It's true that I've taken part in the operations, and that I don't have my own fanclub or cult like some others. But does that make me most dangerous? I have to say I doubt that, I'm only unpredictable to a certain degree."

She tilts her head in return to look back at Sonia.

"Besides, publicity only does good for those who benefit from it. I find it more beneficial and easier to get to know people personally face to face. Like the way we just met."

"Since the rise of Assyria.  But time doesn't work the same for us as it does for you.  We progress slowly.  Carefully.  If we progress at all.  Leanette Akashic Florentine is younger than this one is, but is much more powerful.  Make of that what you will."  She waves her free hand, pushing aside a john as he stumbles out of a Neomah's room bleeding and happy.

"You are most dangerous because you are a professional.  You perform your duties quietly and competently and thus nobody recognizes you're there.  That is the mark of true power.  You and Leanette will have much in common in that regard; the only reason Leanette's known at all is because the rest of the Neomah insist on it."  She pats Lyla's hand, "A genius may have designed the ziggurats, but it takes the slow steadiness of the mason to get it formed.  The emperor may decide to put a man to death, but a mason may kill a man by simply knowing when to drop a stone."

Lyla gives a small nod in regard of ages.

"Age is just a number even with humans, it only gives a hint about how they perceive the world and how they have succeeded," there is no flinch or even a glance given to the passerby, it was well known how the Neomah bargained.

"So, Leanette wouldn't be so known, if she could choose it herself. From what I gathered she'd be just as happy just with her and Core, and less publicity. But then again that was not something in their cards, when things began to turn ugly and Core had a way to solve it."

There is a certain degree of caution in her voice as she speaks. She had worked with all sorts of folk during the years past, doing her best to treat each and everyone as individuals. On the other hand the case with Brahe was still tickling her brain, trying to bother her on a personal level even when none of it was directly related to her. Thus suddenly being faced to dealing with demons was something that made her feel extremely cautious.

"That's correct.  But the Neomah and the rest of the demons needed her to step up.  She's been... unhappy... with the arrangement, for the most part.  That hasn't stopped her from doing what needs to be done.  For one of our younger generations, she's done well."

Sonia steers her to a glass bridge between Neomah warrens, giving Lyla a brilliant view of Core's enclosure- a center of light and gravity.  The other Neomah give them a wide berth.

"You remind this one, in many ways, of a Solar this one met in our ancient lands.  This one barely escaped with her life.  Time has worn down her legend, shaved it down to chips and dust, and nowadays her exploits are reduced to a single story.  A tent peg through the temple, if only it were so mundane!  Now all lost; the ancient lands, the world, the legends, the belief."

Sonia stops mid-bridge and looks up at Core.

"Now we put faith in a new sacrifice, the Antichrist Michael Florentine.  The demons praise his scripture of mathematics and medicine, and his sacrificial foresight.  The humans praise a Second Coming who can't decide whether he is man or devil.  The gods praise their own dead, and are only a step away from becoming one with the void.  In this world of dying titans, the old hero simply- slips through the cracks." 

Sonia looks at Lyla pointedly.

"You're wise to stay in the cracks.  That's where good things leak out and bad things squirm in."

"Seems Leanette has a strong sense of duty, and purpose...and that she likes Michael enough to do this all for them. Not that this is any of my business to say things such as these. My apologies," Lyla smirks a bit, trying to comment on a thing that is mere speculation.

"Who is this Solar you speak about? I guess though that eventually we will all be forgotten, when new heroes take the stage. Unless we do things that shape the world, such as Michael... the Core. Hmmh," she looks passingly at the light.

Eventually she nods and looks back at Sonia, with a tilted head.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to then stay on the look out, here, in between it all. Even though separating good and bad things is becoming increasingly difficult the further we evolve. There is so much room for personal interpretation."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:24, Sun 02 Apr 2017.

"Well, she is married to him.  That's pretty unusual for us."  Sonia starts to move down the bridge again, "Her name was Jael.  You can find more about her in the Bible, but it tells you very little.  But the point wasn't that eventually we must all pass and fade, but that the biggest things are done in quiet."

She laughs at Lyla's last comment, "Yes, things have changed.  Fifty years ago this one would've attempted to kill you- this one wouldn't have liked it, mind you- and would've gotten killed as a result.  A hundred years ago and this one would've done everything in her power to kill everyone you held dear.  A thousand years ago and this one- well, you get the image, hm?  We live in strange times, you and this one."

Lyla nods, her hand instinctively finding its way to give a thoughtful tap to her cigarette case.

"I can only imagine adjusting yourself to suit the time and the change. Though if you couldn't adjust, we wouldn't be talking here. Perhaps it should worry me, that you are still around, because the day might come that you'll decide to rid the world of me... or at least try."

She waves a dismissive hand.

"But lets not go there. I have no need or any want to start a quarrel with you, or your kind. Instead I have to admit being surprised for being asked here, honored as well."

"The day might come," Sonia tastes the words with her perfect mouth, "This one is tempted to throw a roundhouse kick at your face right now.  Not because she is angry or dislikes you, but to show you how futile that is.  You would wipe the floor with this one.  It would be... so very embarrassing." She smiles at Lyla, "In ten years, if you are still alive, this one would not even be able to muss the hair on your head.  At that point this one will leave such a problem to your peers."

They pass out of the glass catwalk, into the next warren.  Here Lyla can see things have gotten more secure.  The Neomah here are more beautiful, their glamours more tailored, their solicitors bleeding discreetly under well-hidden bandages- or perhaps not at all.

"There are certain things only you can do."

"I'd offer you a chance to spar sometime in order for you to fullfill that roundhouse kick dream, but I'm not big fan of sparring. Fighting on flat open ground without any element of surprise just for the sake of fighting just doesn't suit my tastes. It's naturally necessary for training purposes, but.." Lyla shrugs, with a vague smile.

She does look around, paying attention to the details after all she'd never visited the Neomah herself. The security of some areas in the Last Refuge never seized to amaze her. Given they all lived in such tight quarters, and everyone was constantly gossiping about something, it fed her curiousity to find such places that were still mostly discreet.

"Apparently so."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:52, Mon 10 Apr 2017.

"Oh no.  This one doesn't spar, honored one."  She gives Lyla a smile like a deadly snake.

As Lyla looks around, Sonia lashes out with her foot!  Since when was the Neomah in high heels?  Since when were they needle sharp and glistening?!

((Sonia Init:
9, 8, 4, 4, 2, 1 & 1.
*Init 24 + Speed 5 + AB 5 = 34
*Float 1-1))

((Initiative: 10, 10, 9, 7, 6, 4, 3 & 2
Using Murderous Shadows w/ Unarmed+Saber
Initiative: 16+15+10= 41, delays after Sonia
FoB: 17+15+10 = 42/ 2 chi
Ghostly Presence: 19+20+10 = 49
Float 10-10))

She doesn't flinch, when she faces the foot lashing directly at her. The shadows seem to darken momentarily, leaving her in a smoke screen of after images. But unlike most other times, this time Lyla waits. Waits to see what was coming at her, even if that might be silly.

((Attack:
7, 6, 6, 6, 3, 2 & 1
*4 Chi: Strike +20
*Strike 36 + Strike 15 + AB 5 + IKF 20 = 76, Better Blocked:  Dodge -5))

The Neomah is startlingly efficient for someone with such low Essence, her round-house kick aimed directly at Lyla's temple.  A kick like that wouldn't need poison- against a normal human being, it'd punch right through the side of their skull and destroy their brain.

((Defense:9, 8, 7, 6, 3, 2, 2 & 2
Crow eclipses the sun 4 chi
Dodge: 32+15+5+10+20-5 = 77 vs 76

Attack: 10, 10, 9, 7, 6, 4, 4 & 3
Reincarnating Nine Brothers 5 chi

Strike: 40+20+25+10 = 95, better dodged
Burn: 24+10+10 = 44
))

Lyla was always wary, maybe too much even, and when her kick comes at her, she is already mapping her surroundings. She falls into a backwards cartwheel, her shadows disguising her movement.

Then the blueish blades lash out from the dark, much lower than anticipated, aimed at her torso. A small part of her mind reminds her that it wouldn't be good if she'd actually hurt Sonia, and the other part of her mind tells her not to lose, but always put everything at stake.

((Defense vs Lyla:
9, 6, 6, 5, 3, 1 & 1
*Defense vs Strike with Flowed 41 + Block 10 + IKF 10 + AB 5 - Better Dodged 5 = 61 vs 95, 2 Ripples + Roll
*Defense vs Burn 26 + Block 10 + IKF 10 + AB 5 - Better Dodged 5 = 46 vs 44, Blocks

RR on Sonia:
*19 + Damage 15 = 34 - Toughness 20 - Chi Aura 11 = 3, a Trivial wound))

Sonia pours all of her Essence into resisting Lyla's attack, but it's ultimately fruitless.  She lacks the raw strength to do more than mitigate the damage.  Lyla lands a telling blow, cutting through Sonia's leather jacket.

She takes a few steps back and raises her hand, giving up.

"As you can see, this one can't even touch you at the height of her power.  And please note that this one is considered a- hmm- expert at martial love.  This one could not ever threaten you."

Lyla draws back and takes distance instinctively, before stepping back near her. The shadows around her retreating back to their natural places.

"Are you alright?" She inclines to the cut. "I over did it. Pardon me. Besides, you are selling yourself short. Your kick packed quite the punch and your technique is most likely much better than mine. It was a close call. Maybe with a bit of planning and an advantage at location, you'd have pushed through."

She winks, it appearing slightly odd on her face, like something you did when performing and then trying to do it with a real meaning behind it.

"This one is fine.  You pack a hard punch,"  She smiles at Lyla, "That took most of this one's strength and capability; this one couldn't sustain attacks like that.  Please, this was illustrative!  This one is no threat."

She takes Lyla's arm again, somewhat possessively.

"We will continue." 

She pulls them along the hallway.  The Neomah now look exceptionally professional.  They're all smartly dressed in formal businesswear.  There are no solictors but there are clipboards, pens, smart-tablets. Lyla is uncomfortably reminded of a massive corporate office.  Sonia is quiet as they move through, eventually knocking on a nondescript door in a nondescript section of the warren.

The door chimes and they step through.  There are three chairs present, one of lush red velvet and two of an old-world style, wooden and comfortable.

"Take a seat,"  Sonia gestures, "And Leanette Akashic Florentine will enter shortly."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:58, Tue 18 Apr 2017.

"I trust you on that one," Lyla smiles at Sonia's assurance.

There is a small grimace on her face as they pass through the "office". She has to remind herself that she is here, because her help was asked, and she could always decline after the meeting if it didn't suit her work ethics.

"Thank you, Sonia. Will you be seeing me out later or was this it for now?" She asks before taking a seat in one of the old-world styled chairs.

"This one will be staying here with you.  This one does know many things and as your assistant must be privy to all of this information as well.  This one is here to help you synthesize and prioritize."

Sonia hasn't shifted her appearance, still appearing like the motorcyclist-super-spy she favored.  It jars when compared with the rest of the Neomah they'd just passed.

Eventually, however, a door opens.  Leanette Akashic Florentine is beautiful but in an understated way.  Whereas all the other Neomah are almost cartoonish in their beauty Leanette resembles a mid-20th century movie star, full of elegance and confidence.  She wears a simple black minidress.

"Lyla," She greets the Exalt with an extended hand- featuring beautifully manicured, sharp fingernails.  Lyla sees no trace of aconite poison on them.  "I'm Leanette.  It's a pleasure to finally meet you, but we've both been so very busy."

Lyla already knows that only the highest-ranked, most self-confident Neomah use the first person.  It's still jarring to hear come from one's mouth.

The way Sonia appears and behaves is some sort of a safe haven for Lyla. At least there was something vaguely familiar, instead of something she absolutely despised.

"Nice to meet you too, and quite the chance that being face to face, I must admit," Lyla gets up to give her a handshake, one that is rough around the edges, too relaxed for the formal occasion.

Safe to say that her nails are far from manicured, clean only thanks to wearing gloves on missions.

"It seems everyone is so busy these days, that almost all contacting is done through mail."

"Yes, which is unfortunate but necessary.  It helps with quarantine protocol, too.  Less difficult to pass on... contagion."  She smiles thinly, "I'll cut to the quick of things, which I'm sure will please you.  Neomah spies- the Asherim- unearthed evidence of a hobby-cult dedicated towards the creation of Virtual Intelligences.  These gelded Artificial Intelligences are highly suspect creations, believed to be inspired by the Enemy's agents within the ship.  They're also of a lot of interest to Michael, seeing as the very first thing a budding AI tends to do is try to break Core Protocols.  They always say it's a stress test, but we have a very dim view of it."

"80% of all Asherim counterintelligence operations are dedicated towards squashing this sort of thing," Sonia says in an aside to Lyla.

"Long story short, our feud with these hobby-cults is ongoing and laborious.  Normally we wouldn't bother you with it.  However, Endings was recently sent to investigate potential traitors identified by files on the Buchenwald, and when he got close to one of them... he disappeared.  And the one he approached?  A prime suspect in our own investigations, a potential cult cell leader.  To make matters worse, I've been informed by Secrets that Endings is dead with an 89% probability.  So besides subversive behavior and potential treason, we have outright murder of an Exalt."

"People have always been into trying to create life, and unfortunate enough they do cause quite the problems when dabbling into things they eventually cannot control. Such as an AI. I... have had some problems with people doing what they want outside the given law as well, so I'm glad to hear someone is monitoring them," she ponders.

"That being said, giving any possible leverage to Thanatos on the long run sounds like someone is a bit too carefree in their creation. Having too recently confronted her, and I'm sure no-one would want her running amok on this ship."

Her voice a bit annoyed as it is, she frowns deeply when the news of Endings surface.

"Hmph. I see. I'm glad you decided to bother me with this. The death and most likely a murder of a Sidereal is nothing to be taken lightly. I know Endings was in comparison a fresh exalt, but that doesn't make him an easy target to be killed or captured. So, who is the suspect?"

"Monitoring them with great interest.  We've kept some of the more... useful and sane ones alive.  They've led down some interesting roads once we neuter their little projects." 

Leanette nods grimly.

"No, he wasn't; especially with training from Battles.  The suspect?  Taru-Han, the Daimyo of Souls.  We believe she was working with the rogue programmers to imprint higher souls on computer circuits, allowing mass-production of VIs and also allowing her to make 'copies' of her collection, just in case.  Of course, the big problem there is that techno-ghosts are still ghosts.

Secrets thought she was possibly Inconceivable, a Neverborn spy and point of contact to the Neverborn's other sleeper agents.  Of course, she's always been quietly suspect; the most powerful psychopomp can't be too far removed from the Neverborn.

She's old, powerful, and supremely dangerous.  I would place her roughly akin to Sunipa or Five Days Darkness in strength."

Lyla nods, gives a thoughtful tap to her cigarette case, and turns to look somewhere in the distance digesting what was just told. She gives a thoughtful stroke to her scarf, before returning to the matter at hand.

"So, given that it's Taru-Han, what is the course of action...Getting more solid evidence or catching them redhanded? Surely not fighting them head on, because in that case you'd have contacted Daniel."

"More solid information and a plan, in essence.  We need confirmation, and once that's done we need to set up an operation to safely take her into custody.  Or kill her.  I'm not sure if the latter's even possible.  She's a living spray of visible light."

"This one doesn't think she can be interrogate light,"  Sonia mutters with amusement.

"In addition to this," Leanette continues on, pressing forward like a kid trying to eat something they hate, "Michael has requested a personal conversation with you.  Not within his cradle of course."

"Need to ask from entities similar to her for a good course of action. Killing her might also complicate things in other levels, and it does sound a bit too extreme, at least at this stage," Lyla smirks at Sonia comment.
"It'd be best to have someone infiltrate, alas I'm not good at technobabble to make it convincing. Unless you already have someone there?"

It's perfectly visible on her face how surprised she is. She does reel her expression quickly back in to its normal sceptic smirk. The Ragnarok had happened so swiftly after her exaltation, that she had never really had a chance to meet Michael, even though they were both part of the Old team, so to say. At least he had done his best for humanity, even though he was an Infernal.

"Well, I'm ready for a conversation whenever he wishes to have it."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:10, Wed 26 Apr 2017.

"We don't.  The gods don't like the Neomah,"  Leanette sounds calm but Lyla can tell the woman is starting to bristle up like a porcupine, "Taru-Han will be suspicious of anyone approaching her.  We'll need to be calm and collected about it."

Leanette stands up, "Excuse me, Lyla, allow me to talk to my husband first to make sure this is what he wants?  And to ensure he's in a fit condition to see you?"

Sonia looks at Lyla with impassively gorgeous eyes.  She raises an eyebrow.

A small part of her wants to see what would eventually happen when Leanette would have had enough of it. It somehow amused her, that even though she was the one to asked for assistance, she is not the one getting annoyed at the whole deal.

"Sure. Luckily I'm not in a hurry."

Lyla crosses her legs and leans on the arm rest.

Sonia clears her throat as soon as Leanette leaves.

"This is different," She says immediately, "Leanette isn't pleased.  This one had no idea that you might be seeing Core.  Since Leanette didn't tell you right here and now what this conversation would be about, it means that he doesn't want her to know."

Lyla shortly raises her brows.

"Peculiar. I was already wondering what was eating her so much."

She shifts in her chair.

"Well well. This whole case gets more and more interesting and concerning at the same time."

"Very.  This one won't be able to attend the meeting with you either." She says as she reaches out to touch Lyla's shoulder, "You will not be permitted to view the cradle itself.  But you'll get the closest in recent memory."

This sounds practically religious.

"Be cautious.  Leanette will attempt to grill you for information afterwards."

"If this information gets out, everybody will be asking how it was to meet Michael," Lyla sighs and gives a rub to the bridge of her nose."Don't worry, I'll manage. I've been training incase there ever was a case where I was interrogated with either physical or mental means." Aha! A joke!

She then in turn flicks a glance at Sonia, with a jesting tone in her voice.

"Your kind are known to br hospitable, but I do feel quite the pampered guest thanks to you, Sonia. Due to your background, I almost feel obliged for a similar favor in return at some point."

"Probably boring.  This one means- this one KNOWS that he is connected to all of the Last Refuge, but eventually it must divorce him from reality a bit, no?"

She glances at Lyla, "This one is pleased you find her assistance and company suitable.  You will not need to give this one a favor unless it pleases you.  The favor is helping Leanette and Michael in the first place."

Lyla nods, and drums the seathandle.

"Yes, it must be difficult to stay in touch with reality in his situation. Sometimes its even difficult for us, because we don't spend enough time with the so to say normal people... even though admittedly I feel more comfortable there with them."

"War and loss have made things strange," Sonia muses, "And time has seemed to crawl."

The door opens.  Leanette steps out, looking even more rattled than before.  She has a haunted, distracted look in her eyes.  Lyla knows that look.  She's seen it on people's faces enough times.  Leanette's replaying a vexing conversation in her head over and over.

"Michael will see you now,"  She says as she holds open the door.

"Crawl...yes, I guess especially from your point of view," Lyla smirks.

When Leanette steps out, looking even more rattled than before, Lyla gets up almost instantly.

"Ah. Thank you."

She takes a few steps towards the door, taking a moment for herself to think about what she should actually say. Or if she should even say anything.

"Talk to you two later, I hope," she notes, before giving a nod to both Leanette and Sonia.

"Yes, this one hopes."  Sonia smiles at her.

Leanette just looks like she's sucking on a lemon.

Inside is... well, underwhelming.  There's a chair that looks like it was carved out of a solid egg-shaped block of marble with a single black cushion on the seat.  In front of that is a viewscreen made out of a dark block of quartz-like crystal.  Light flickers behind it and then Lyla can see through it to another huge marble egg, held in place by hundreds of thousands of conduits, wires, cables...

She can't see Core.  Not his person.  But she does see his Cradle.

The whole situation feels odd, the formality of it sits unwell with Lyla. She looks around the room, and slides her fingers on the side of the chair, before taking a seat.

For a moment, she ponders if he is able to hear her just like that, and how it all works, before she just gives up on such thoughts. It was always futile to question most things that happened since Ragnarök.

"It was a surprise to get such a chance as this to meet you."

The air around the egg said. It sounded somewhere between a synthesizer and a violin, the faintest hint of vibration as the air moved of its own accord.


A green diagram of the Last Refuge appeared, rendered in precise detail and roughly half a meter in diameter.

"No need for apologies regarding your hosting, this is perfectly fine for me," she responds politely. "Also I don't mind quick briefings and cutting to the chase, even if it makes things abrupt. Spares time for saving more lives."

Lyla regards the diagram with raised brows at the detailing.

Most of the diagram fell away, the remaining portion slowly expanding. It was a set of corridors not that far from the control sections of the Last Refuge.


The diagram faded away entirely.

She drums her fingernails to the edge of the seat, while peering to the diagram with a frown. Not quite managing to relax, she leans slightly forward while listening.

"When did this all occur, or has been occuring?"

There's so much dry humor packed into the word 'timing' that it could drain oceans.

"Sorry, not a fan of riddles any kind. I have bad experiences when it comes to them. Also having excelled in sports all of my life, I rather lack the academic nature to be competent in solving most of them," Lyla blatantly responds.

Then she blinks amazed at what she just heard.

"Time travel? I knew there was a lot to be still discovered, but that is something I didn't expect to hear. No matter how marvelous a discovery this is, its also quite alarming. Especially if this someone is only learning."

Core is quiet for a moment.

"You think the time traveler is the same as the one who killed Endings? How so?"

Lyla finally leans back and crosses her legs.

There was a slight buzzing in the air.

"If they are only learning, the death of Endings might only be an accident..or maybe their hand was forced. Nevertheless its punishable. How do we catch someone who isn't necessarily even on this timeline?"

Lyla shrugs when it comes to the discussion about the punishment. Opinions were opinions.

"So any lead, where and how should I start?"

A numerical sequence appeared in the air before Lyla. Coordinates within the ship. A second set replaced them a few moments later.

"Both of the areas are large, and a bit of a pain in the ass to search through but nothing impossible. It's a good start."

"Oh, yeah, given they can move in time, any idea on how to actually catch them should the need rise? If old-fashioned talking and...or grabbing by force doesn't work."

There was probably also more to ask, but nothing really manages to appear in her mind.

Lyla gives a short nod.

"Ah, well that clears it out. I'll start investigating the matter asap."

The Cradle starts to recede and the door chimes.  Leanette abruptly opens the door.

"Core needs to rest and refocus his energies." She sounds exhausted herself, "I hope you learned enough from Core, because they're desperately in need of his attention down at the Hangar?"

Lyla gets up from the chair and turns to walk out of the room.

”Learned enough. Whats at the hangar?” The question is more rhetorical, since she is almost certain that leanette won’t indulge her in anything extra.

Losing in thought, she goes through the info given to her. Well ..she had plenty of info given the circumstances. A place to begin the search helped a lot. She’d prolly need to cash out some favors for intel, but that was always the case.

"A test of a new weapons system just went haywire.  Apparently the final test of some sort of missile went catastrophically wrong even though the motonic engineers were absolutely certain it should've gone fine.  There's two full decks in flames." Leanette looks tired, "And the missile is, apparently, so mathematically finicky that they're not certain if it's fully discharged or if it's about to take a big semicircle out of the side of the Last Refuge, but ejecting into vacuum will just make it worse.  So now he has to use all of his processing on the math to figure out just what went wrong."

Hmm.  Lyla remembers that some of the coordinates given come awfully close to the hangar.

What a nice coincidence. She is not certain whether to be surprised at being given an answer or by the info she is shared. She stops for a moment to listen to Leanette.

"Any casualties?"

"Yes.  Just one, a janitor."  She says, "It was properly sealed off, so even if it went bad it shouldn't have gotten anyone- except for the janitor, for some reason.  We're likely to lose far more if the flames get worse or if the weapons vent a few floors of the Refuge."

"Hm. It would seem that your hands are full of work, and that I'm needed elsewhere as well," Lyla nods. "It was nice meeting you. I guess, I'll be escorted out?" She looks around for Sonia.

The whole place made her feel uncomfortable. It was all too formal, too political for her to feel at home. Also if she'd move fast, she could get to the scene of the accident before it gathered more attention.

"This one is here for you."

Jesus Christ, Sonia is good at her job- Lyla gets a half second of warning before the Neomah appears at her side, offering her the arm. They're halfway down the hallway when she quickly opens a door, leading to... just a bedroom?  She gives Lyla a brilliant smile, touching a lamp that opens up a back hallway, ill-lit, brooding.

"Now you have some privacy to talk to this one if you wish,"  Sonia tells Lyla, "What was he like?  Is he doing well?  This one would not presume to ask what he said to you, but is there any way this one or the Asherim can help?"

Lyla might be startled on the inside by Sonias swift movements but she doesn't let it show as she yet again takes her arm. The seemingly random entering to a bedroom amuses her and momentarily her train of thought trails to a certain spartan room. Business before plesure, she refocuses as the hallway is revealed and Sonia asks those heavy questions.

Its not that she didn't trust the Neomah. She trusted very few persons so that was just normal. Almost always earnest in her opinion, Lyla was now faced with the decision of whether to actually say what she herself thought or what she thought that Sonia would want to hear.

The moments grow very heavy and its obvious that she doesn't know what to say in regard to how Michael was. The mission is a different matter.

"Eh. Hard to say how he is as I didnt really see him. Guess he is. Then again if he wasn't, how could I tell," she shrugs."As to how he is as a person, I'd rather not comment. I'm sure you'd prefer to keep your own vision intact." Her tone of voice gives her negatively inclined opinion slightly away despite the jokish tone.

She walks to look into the hallway.

"But yes, I might need your help with some intel. I have a larger area that needs to be covered and scouting it alone is a waste of time."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:48, Tue 15 May 2018.

"This one understands,"  Sonia replies gravely, marching them down the hallway.  "The Asherim and this one are ready.  The hangar, of course, must be your next objective.  Where can we search?  What should we search for?"

The hallway is long, with very few exits.  Probably only one every couple hundred meters.  It follows a long, wide spiral upwards, probably towards the entrance to the Neomah hive.

There was a small part that didn't like it when Sonia seemed to know what she was up to. It made her feel too open. Though in thus case her heading to the hangar was not surprising.

"Yeah. I don't know if its related to this what happened at the hangar but its still concerning," she conveys coordinates to Sonia."This is the search area. I know its big and covers many decks which makes it choreful. But what we are looking for is most likely someone, or some thing, very out of place but still could belong there. An anomaly. Possibly dangerous. I can't give you any more specific info as I don't know better myself either. I'll give more specs when I have them."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:11, Wed 16 May 2018.

"This one's people are very good at staying out of sight." Sonia reassures her, "But that is... quite a few floors.  Almost an eighth of the ship.  There must be a million people living in one of the sections alone.  It will take time."  She continues to march down the hall, "This one should establish a code with you, yes?" 

"Start with a generic overlook of the places, and once there is more specifics, you can delve into it all," Lyla walks aside Sonia with similar haste. "Ah. Yes, but nothing too fancy. Here, I'll show you how to initiate face to face contact by telling that we are doing the same cause."

She stops herself and Sonia for a moment to teach a greeting, were the other who requires attention takes a hold of the others parallel arm and gives it a gentle squeeze as well as a coordinated set of tappings. The other naturally responds with a similar squeeze.

"I know its old-fashioned, but you might not always recognize me and vice versa. Languagewise I'd prefer the theme to revolve around shopping, in example when you are searching for leads, and find something that leads on, it can be called a shopping spree. When you find something you need me to look at and the evidence might be disappearing fast, you'll tell me to come due to a speed sale. And if, I'm needed urgently because there is a possible target, you'll tell me that the shop is closing. You get the general idea? This sound plausible to you?"

Sonia is a fast learner for her kind.  She only takes three repetitions to get the coordinated tapping down pat.  Then she nods as she listens.

"This one found a lovely dress, just your size, in the market." She smiles at Lyla, "It is half off, a going-out-of-business sale.  As an example.  Did this one do well?  Did this one appear too transparent?"

"I think thats a deal I can't pass," she halfly smiles. "You are a quick learner I have to say. And no, it was not transparent at all. Just perfect."

She continues to walk onwards. While walking she pulls her hair open before again tying it up on a ponytail.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:34, Sat 26 May 2018.

"If this one and the Asherim are in need, we will inform you that we broke a heel and need new shoes." Sonia tells her, falling back to a step and a half behind Lyla and to her right, trusting the Exalt to lead the way- even though Lyla's never been here before.  But sure enough she finds herself at an elevator, which Sonia summons with a wave of a hand and a quick expense of essence.

"This one will have to go up to give a briefing to the Asherim.  You can take the elevator to the ground level, which should give you access to the rest of the Last Refuge.  Do you have any further instructions?"

Lyla nods and walks forward, not being shocked that she suddenly has to lead. She was used to handling unfamiliar things with the certainty of "where there is will, there is a way". She stops to look at Sonia upon departing.

"Keep in touch and stay alert. Keep my updated and I'll fill you in," she pauses. "I appreciate your help and thus if anything turns out too dangerous, dont hesitate to notify me. Losing assistance is not worth the risk. Even though you all would be willing to. Lets not rush this."

"If there is a need, a rush will be made, but otherwise this one will be cautious."  She lets the doors open and takes Lyla's hand, kissing the palm.  "Go with the blessings of the flesh and lightning, the quiet squall, and without the bitter powder of poison on your lips."

Unable to really find suitable words to respond to Sonia, she just nods, before pushing a button and sliding her hand away from Sonia's hand.

"Happy hunting," she wishes as her thoughts turn to the incident and what she might face.

The elevator closes, leaving Lyla alone for the first time in a while.  The trip down to ground level offers a bit of time for quiet reflection.

By the time she's down at an Upperdecks plaza, the plaza is buzzing about the debacle at the hangar.  News tends to move almost as fast as lies- people apparently think it's an Abyssal attack, though they're surprised the body count is so low.

She breathes a deep sigh of relief to finally exit that ghastly place, that in no way suited her. The quiet reflection in this case for her means trying to empty her brain from too many thoughts bouncing about frantically and trying to make sense of all the things. When the doors open, she pulls her scarf around her neck a bit better and tries to hide her features letting some shadows creep up on her.

The mention of an Abyssal attack amuses her, and she smirks while weaving past people to get to the site. She does keep her eyes and ears open, in case something interesting might catch her attention.

Nobody really notices Lyla move, something she's quite used to- in a way she lives life on the Last Refuge almost like a ghost.  While some of the more popular Exalts are mobbed on the streets, she's been pulled over once for an autograph.

By one of the Red Queen's fans.

A stoned fan.

Who thought she was a backup dancer.

Anyway, she hears very little.  Most of the Upperdecks people are pretty clueless about the state of the Last Refuge in general, and everything bad is an Abyssal Attack(tm).  Very little thought goes into their daily lives.

Now, as soon as she boards the train towards the hangars...

Well, the train is blocked off for normal passengers.  Only first responders are allowed, but the train is still packed, and of course nobody really notices her.  She ends up standing behind three firefighters, grim in their armored firesuits, sweating fear and adrenaline.  One is a water god, the other two rather big humans.

"It's bad,"  She hears the water god mutter to the others, "I can feel the fire from here.  We've got Ifrit working near the forge but we're going to have to do it the old fashioned way."

"We can't vent the decks?  Cut off O2?"  One of the humans asks.

"I'm really wondering about that too.  It should be an easy fix, if it's spreading this quick then oxygen conservation isn't a big deal... plus aren't you guys experts?"  Human #2 asks the water god.

"There's only one explanation."  The water god looks between his compatriots, "Something's fucked up the hatches.  They can't manage a proper seal for the vent.  It's the only reason we'd all be called at once."

"Fuck,"  They all say at unison.

Lyla leans on a vertical railing, listening to the three talk. It all seemed awfully intentional to be just an accident. Somebody wanted to burn something, or then the Last Refuges attention was intentionally diverted this way. She only hoped that she'd hear about anything else ASAP if it were to happen.

In that moment she kinda hoped she was fireproof, or at least as enduring as Daniel. Maybe if there was an Ifrit to help...maybe. She brushes the thoughts aside. She shuffles and adjusts her position on her place, and looks at the people gathered. The real heroes who did things without the extra boost she was blessed with.

The three firefighters have apparently reached their station.  The train stops and even here she can feel the heat.  The three tighten their seals and push their way through the crowd, the water god already emitting water from a series of jets positioned around his suit.

Lyla could get off here.  There's a whole series of stations she can leave.  This one is on the periphery, though.  The hangar proper, where the explosion occurred, is another three stops.

Trains come and go, so she decides to follow the three. They were after all intending to go extinguish the fire, and if it was this bad already here, the closer she'd go by train the harder it'd be to get to the source. So a detour it is.

She finds herself following them as they forge ahead in full gear.  Lyla is protected to some degree, but still finds herself starting to sweat profusely.  They eventually reach what must be the first checkpoint, an open hatch leading to a residential level that's begun to cook.  Some civilians have clustered in the hallway, collapsed due to smoke inhalation.  The human firemen begin checking the civilians to see if they need CPR, but the water god moves ahead into the hallway at a sprint.

One of the firemen looks up from checking a small child and seems to notice her, "Hey, you, what're you doing here?  This is a disaster zone.  Someone you know in there?"

There is a strong urge to follow suit after the water god but she pushes her daredevilist ways aside and deems it better to stay alive instead of being incinerated. When the fireman appears to turn and talk to her, she looks around appearing baffled. If he was talking to someone else, she wouldnt blow her cover and if he was indeed looking at her, she'd appear at least a tiny bit lost. That would make his attention to detail remarkable though.

"Miss?"  The firefighter asks her, "Miss, are you okay?  Did you inhale any smoke?" He asks with concern, furrowing his brow.  He winces all of a sudden, as if experiencing a sudden headache. "Urgh..."

He's definitely noticed her, but it's costing him.  Mere mortals- no matter how talented- can't hope to focus on her too much without suffering the consequences.

Lyla lets a small exasperated sigh escape from her lips, before looking directly at the firefighter. His tenacity was something she couldn't ignore. Like in any detective show on Earth, she shows the innerpocket of her jacket, revealing a permit of some sort. With her cloaking most of it is hazy though.

"Yeah, not feeling too well. Care to take a look?" She raises her finger on her lips in shushing motion, then beckons him to come over and takes a few steps away from the crowd.

The firefighter has a somewhat glazed look on his face.  She's seen that before; he'd pushed himself hard in the attempt to make sure everyone's safe, too hard, and experienced a little bit of a mental break trying to both convince himself Lyla was there AND that she wasn't.

So he follows, the permit helping him out at least just a little bit.

"Yeah... urggh.  How - bad do you feel?"

Once having stepped aside, Lyla rests a comforting hand on his shoulder. For most people it was hard to look at her and after years of experience she'd noticed that listening was less painful to all, because even if her voice might shift the message got through clearer.

"Close your eyes and focus on my voice. It'll make this easier," she rustles her pocket to show her license to conduct any sort of investigation as she would see fit, naturally the picture on it is vague like she is. "I'm all fine. Just here to investigate the incident. I need you to answer a few questions while taking this breather. Can you do that for me, mister..?"

He does as she requests, taking deep breaths.  "Jack Heath.  I've heard a little about Ombra.  I can answer whatever you'd like but I haven't been here long."  He puts his hand on her shoulder, "Christ, why does- even looking at you make my head hurt?"

"Mister Heath. Don't focus on that, I'm just so damn ugly. No, really, just think of it as having an intense hangover and being drunk at the same time. It's unfortunate but all natural," she comforts him. "Where is the source of the fire? Any problems? Odd sightings? Which way to get closer?"

"I only just got here.  We thought it was a bit odd..."  He remarks, "A torpedo blew in the hangar deck but it's been spreading throughout, mostly to the mechanical stations and the residential halls.  This is all mostly tech staff, you know, hangar guys who need to be able to sprint from bed to flight deck ASAP.  But it must've hit some of the ammunition bays to go off like that.  The real problem's going to be the experimental armament labs.  If those go... that's where we were going to head if we could push through here first."

He screws his eyes tighter.

"Easiest way to hit it is to hit the stairwells built for this purpose.  We were going to try to push through with Quallet over there, the water elemental."

"Something else blocking your way than fire?" Not too keen on dropping her stealth just yet, she slightly hurries the conversation.

Ofcourse a Solar appearing in a crisis zone would bring people hope, but also panic and publicity for her that she didn't want.

"We just got here, ma'am,"  He responds with a sigh, "There might be some blockages up ahead from the fire- I mean, stuff like collapsing ceilings, cables, random rubble, stuff like that.  The bulkheads definitely aren't sealed or else it wouldn't have gotten this far.  There aren't many reports.  So that means people are either dead inside, a lot of people, or the fire's melted the comm cables."

"Got any extra firesuits? Given you came here in fullgear," she peerd past him towards the fire, there was only so much she could evade and fire wasn't that dodgable.

"Back at the station, sure, but you'll have to doubleback.  Or you can find a hurt firefighter." He suggests, "The suits are one size fits all."

She might find reason to doubt that.  The firefighter's biceps are practically the size of her head.

"They're adjustable,"  He adds, "They almost have to be given some of the weird gods we got wearing this stuff."

Lyla nods shortly, turning to look around and then back to him.

"Thank you for your time. Now don't overwork yourself. You are not helping the people by being dead," she notes. "For your sake, stop paying attention to me and don't mention this to anyone. Now if you'll excuse me.."

She turns away to take a look about in order to see the situation herself. Finding a suit wouldn't either hurt, but if there was none available, she'd have to find another way in.

The fireman nods and starts counting under his breath, then pushes past her back towards the fire.

The firemen had already arrived dressed, so Lyla must assume there aren't any just lying around.  They'd be an expensive commodity, worth quite a bit in places like the Underdecks.

Hmm, she doesn't have many options from this angle.  She can try running into the inferno and hope to find a Crash Locker, the emergency lockers on every floor which would have some protective gear.  She could hurry up and meet up with the water elemental and use him as an escort.  Hell, she could also just KO the fireman and steal his suit.

Normally one would stop to think about the consequences, but then again, the fireman was tired and could use the rest. Getting burnt to crisp didn't feel too tempting, and trying her luck while doing so felt even less tempting. If only she was as durable as Daniel...Oh well. She was never there, so maybe someone else borrowed the suit, she thinks to herself as aiming a direct hit to the fireman's head in order to grant him some early sleep. Without her talons though.

WHAM.  The fireman is out like a light.  Nobody sees her- she doesn't even need to put up her abilities for that; besides the unconscious civilians, the hallway is deserted.  She puts on the suit and finds it adjusts to her in just the right way, giving her the protection she needs.  It's warm and sweaty in the suit but the moment the helmet's on a fan starts whirring away, circulating the air.

She's as protected as she's going to be now.

Just incase she checks the firemans pulse and condition before leaving him be. Then she ventures into the fire trying to find the water elemental or some trace of the source of the fire.

The fireman's breathing, he's just out cold.  Lyla isn't quite strong enough to snap a neck or fracture a skull without whipping out her claws.

The water elemental's not far up ahead.  The fire rages hard, but he's putting in a dent.  "Some survivors over there!" He shouts to her, not realizing who it is in the suit, "Third door, it's sealed up- they've got another minute or so before the oxygen's burn out!"

As far as she can tell the hall up ahead is a solid torrent of fire.  It's following the air vents.  The air's not supposed to stop, ever, unless the whole bulkheads are sealed- and that, as established, hasn't happened yet.  So some super-hot fire towards the center of this is just traveling along the air vents with the oxygen.

Or, maybe it's the cabling.  She can see a line of wires dropping down from the ceiling ahead, their insulation bubbling and melting from the heat and finally lighting afire.  The whole area smells like burning rubber, even through her filter.

Hmm.  The hangar's where this all started.  She's some distance away from it, but it's a huge reservoir of air and more gets pumped in all the time.  The air pumps would have to be relatively close to the hangar to provide the best efficiency.  So why haven't they already melted away?

Lyla stares at the fire, little inkling of her wishing that Arkady or Sayeed or anyone more fire savvy was around.

Her best option for the sake of everybody would be to head for the pumps and end the whole inferno once and for all. Since before the fire could be doused, she just couldnt open the door for the people without getting them incinerated. But turning away from helping people didn't really feel too good, especially when she is given the timeframe by the water elemental. But if she'd be fast enough, the problem might solve itself. The firesuit did limit her movement somewhat but it was easy to overcome.

She steadies her footing before dashing on.

((Will use Flight of the Golden Crow to cover more zones if need be))
This message was last edited by the player at 05:00, Thu 02 Aug 2018.

"Hey, wait!-" The rest of the elemental's words are lost as Lyla BLASTS right past him.  The fire behind her whooshes and grows in strength momentarily from the rush of oxygen caused by Lyla's rapid run.

Let's see- she doesn't know the route so well; this whole place is a maze.  But it's not hard to follow the vents, and she at least knows the way to the hangar.  So she heads towards there.

This section of the hangar deck has taken the brunt of the blast.  Twisted, torn metal fills the halls.  It'd threaten her footwork if she was a normal being, but her Exalted nature and the non-slip fireshoes keep her running.  Some of the metal even looks like it's beginning to melt.

There.  Signs to the pump room, bubbling, barely legible in the heat and smoke.  Her regulator whines.  The filter must be overloading.  Good thing she has spares.

Finally she finds the entrance to the pump room.  The fires her are bad, but not much seems to be happening to it.  Hell, she can feel the temperature difference as she gets closer.  It feels... colder.  The metal of the door is cool to the touch.  Frost coats the door handle.

And it refuses to budge.

She stops, takes a breather and tilts her head. She does try the handle once more, before giving the door a good knock.

"Anybody in there?"

While waiting for an answer she looks around for just about anything abnormal. If the door was frozen, maybe she could wedge it out of its place and from its hinges, if there are any. Or she could try guiding some of the fire towards the door, though the ice being most likely of unnatural origin it'd do little and probably die off before hitting its target.

The door doesn't budge and there is, of course, no answer.  The mere fact that the door is frozen is abnormal enough; there's a raging inferno a few feet away.  Clearly fire isn't a threat to whatever this is.

There's a crowbar lying around nearby but it's red hot.  Whoever had it must've tried to take it to the door and decided to run for it instead.

Better be safe than sorry, given she didn't know what was behind the door. She turns to the crowbar and kicks it next to the door and colder area, letting it cool down before picking it up. As long as it doesn't melt her gloves, she picks it up and aims it at the door. Raw strenght was not on her side so her shadows slither out and into the cracks on the door. No matter how small, they could get through and give her the boost needed, tearing down the ice from inbetween.

The crowbar almost burns her Exalted hands right through the firesuit, it's that hot.  So it's horribly unnatural that once she brings it close to the door it cools down immediately, frosting over and even cracking in one or two places- but it's still intact.

((Go ahead and roll a Might roll.  You'll get through no matter what, but a roll may give you dice to float, and a better Might roll might come in handy))

She aims the crowbar at the door hinges and is almost on the verge of trying to wrench. Then she stops. She looks at the crowbar and smirks, letting the crowbar clatter on the floor.

"I've been spending too much time with Daniel," she sighs and shakes her head.

If shadows could have faces, they'd give het the look of "duh" while slithering in from the cracks. She shrughs and concentrates closing her eyes, following quickly suit somehow entering the empty space on the other side.

((Will use her formless tech for finesse 5 chi))

Lyla takes a step inside...

... Inside it's cold, quiet.  The pumps keep working, drawing air from the oxygen plants and then blowing it through all the vents.  She can hear the roar of fire just outside of the cold-field, like the pumping of a vast bellows.

In front of her is the corpse of a janitor, in blue overalls, clutching a mop with a fist clenched tight in death.  He's been stabbed right through the chest.  She hears a faint whistling sound from the corner of the room:  a plastic chair.  An extremely handsome young man sits on it, a little thin and malnourished, in a plain black t-shirt and jeans.  He's reading what looks like a porno mag.

He looks up and his slate-grey eyes narrow.  "Huuuh."

Her eyes dart from the corpse to the remarkably handsome young man, which causes her to slightly raise a brow, but only slightly. She then looks around for a control system or such, while addressing the man and walking.

"Don't you know its polite to open the door when someone calls? Or at least respond," her attention turns to the janitor."Though if thats your way of greeting, I get it."

She tugs her firefightersuits helmet away.

"Couldn't hear you.  Too loud,"  He says- a bold-faced lie, considering it's as quiet as a whisper in here.  He grins as she pulls off her helmet, "Hey hey, not bad, you're pretty cute.  How'd you get through the door like that?" He tosses the porno mag behind him.  "I knew I should've warded the door a bit better."

Him commenting on her looks makes her let out a disgruntled sigh. She wasn't in the mood to talk real face to face with anyone, but apparently it was unavoidable. She rests the helmet aside.

"I guess you left the door slightly ajar," she shrugs but does throw a look at the door to see if there were any visible signs of qards."so. Who am I talking with?

Lyla crouches down next to the janitor, checking his pulse just incase, but also seeing if he was carrying anything important that was now left behind. An ID tag with a name would be polite to take to the relatives. She doesn't try to hide it, but makes it casual, almost routinely.

"The door's not ajar, it's a door," He snickers.  "Eh, call me MA.  Emm-Ayy.  Marc Antony.  My parents had a weird sense of humor.  MA, thaumaturgist extraordinaire.  And what might your name be?"

Whatever killed the janitor is long gone.  And the janitor is indeed dead, though there's very little blood.  Whoever killed him bled him out somewhere else and then dumped him in here.

The janitor's name is Trevor Hoke judging by his nametag.  Blond, icy-blue-eyed, a nose a bit too large, fit body- the look of a middle-aged father just trying to get by.

"This your handiwork?" She inclines to the janitor, while trying to rid herself of the clumsy firesuit."Mark Anthony... I see. Might as well call me Cleopatra then. I came here to shut down the pumps. So are you with me or against me in that endeavor?"

To be frank, she felt as if there was no time for niceties while the fire still raged outside.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:52, Tue 07 Aug 2018.

"My job's just to make sure the pumps don't melt from the fire for another hour or so.  I wasn't paid for anything else." He looks down at the body, "Do whatever you like except for letting the fire through there.  And nah.  I didn't do that.  Are you kidding?  What the hell's the point, killing a simple janitor?"

"Ah great, so you'll help me out then," she obviously jests, the snicker not reaching her eyes to make them any warmer. "Paid? By whom and when was that, before the explosion? And tell me about it, some people have a weird sense of entertainment."

She shrugs the firesuit aside revealing her quite un-firefighterly get up of..um.. torn jeans and a t-shirt. Apparently certain things are always in. After that she approaches the pumps looking for a system to shut them down from. Without a system, she'd probably need to employ her shadows once again, to find something to tear apart from within to make them stop.

"Eh, sure, why not." He gestures at the control panel, "There should be a few buttons that'll do the trick.  Third one down stops the pumps until restart if you also twist the key.  Emergency shutdown override."

He sits back down on his chair.

"You want more info I'll be happy to tell you for a price, Cleopatra.  Giving away information like that for free's a bad way of doing business."

"Thanks. I'm more eager to negotiate when people are not dying," she follows the said instructions and waits to see what happens."So. Elaborate. On your business that is. I haven't quite bought it yet, and am not concinces about paying."

She turns to look at him, her arms crossed on her chest. There is a slight raise of her brows.

The pumps slowly start to wind down, just like he said.  The air begins to grow more still.


"I'm a thaumaturgist for hire, I told you."  He says, crossing his arms as well, "I'm no sorcerer but I can whip up a bit of essence magic with the right tools.  Sometimes people ask me to do some weird stuff, so I do it.  I got dumped in here, told to keep it from burning, so that's what I do." He sighs, "People are dying, but yeah, isn't that happening every day in this fucking space egg?"

"Yes, people die every day, like they always have, but less die when some people do things about it. Lucky you, I'm one of those people. So for information, name your price and I'll tell you what I think about it," she smiles her usual half smile, while lowering her arms again and walking to him.

"Sure, sure, until you find out that this was all a Sidereal cutaway job and this sort of thing was necessary to save a thousand people instead of just one.  You think this business is new?  We get out of the fire and you pay me, say, hmm... 2000 credits-" That's enough for a month's rent on the Upperdecks, or a year's worth of decent food supplies, "- and I'll blab all you want.  No skin off my nose, I was never ordered to."

It never seized to amaze and amuse how people spoke to her because they thought she was a nobody. Then again some people would talk like that no matter who they werw dealing with. MA's suggestion manages to turn her half smirk into a full smirk with clear amusement in her eyes.

"How about... I give you zero credits, and you get to live your life outside the brig, keep your limbs intact and if you prove as useful as you claim, I'll give you a more permanent job offer," Lyla tilts her head to the side.

"Two thousand, and if I'm as useful as I claim, you let me go do my thing."  Antony says to her, "I'm a freelancer.  I like my lance free, you know what I mean?"  His eyes narrow, "I don't like the threats, lady, they're really not necessary.  As Bright is my witness, I already told you I'll spill what you want.  2000 is cheap.  Think of it as a fire sale."

"I'll give you twenty and you.. get to keep waving your lance as freely as you wish. Trust me, that is quite an offer I don't give to many. The Agency is always glad to have an extra ear or two," she partially thinks outloud.

"Though I have to say threats are always necessary when one person is trying to benefit from the death of many. Also whats the point in negotiating without threats. At least they are honest in content. But thats just my opinion."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:43, Fri 17 Aug 2018.

"I don't think you know how haggling works.  2000 to 20?"  Antony rolls his eyes, "Fine, you want threats? Then how about this:  if you don't get me safely out, give me 2000 credits, and let me go free, you'll never know who hired me.  How's about that?  For all I fucking know you're an Abyssal agent trying to fuck up whoever hatched this crazy scheme."

Lyla had never been much of a haggler and usually she ended up dealing with shady people who did not deserve that chance. Unfortuntely Anthony was falling under this category as her patience was running thin. So she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and the shadows grow darker around her, disguising her features.

"For all I know you could be a very shitty abyssal agent attempting to do his job and I have every right to throw you out of the airlock afyer you have given me what I want And no one would question that. I've been working for your kind for the past ten years and I intend to do so in the future as well, even if nobody gave a rats ass that I existed."

She drags him towards the door and digs out a business card of Ombra agency to slap into his hands.

"Now lets do this my wau. We shall extinguish some fire and continue talking while at it. Or are you even capable of conjuring up anything that easily? because if not I'd be concerned of your pretty face"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:21, Tue 21 Aug 2018.

He's not as fast as she is- she rushes forward and snatches him up by the collar.  He looks at her as the shadows cover her face, "... You're an Exalt, aren't you?  Night caste, huh?" He gets a slow smile on his face, "Fine, we'll do it your fucking way, but I'm going to need you to fucking let me go so I can use my hands.  And if you don't want to get crisped up some of your blood to start up a thaumaturgical shield for you."

"Awesome. I'm glad we could agree," she declares and lets go of him, but doesn't step away from him, keeping him at an arms lenght at most.

She shakes her hand a bit, before closing its palm. A small flicker of light casts a shade on her hand, and once she opens her palm there is a streak of blood on it.

"Where and how much."

"If you're a thaumaturge you'd know where, and since you're not, I'm going to have to apply it." He raises his own hand and blood wells from the palm without a visible cut, "Or you can copy what I'm doing, just, you know.  Good luck without a mirror or a lot of practice."

He dabs a finger in the blood pooled in his palm and starts dabbing it across his face and forearms in complicated sworls and patterns, reminiscent of a Buddhist mandala drawn by a cubist art student on drugs.  The fact that he's doing it so quickly is either a testament to his skill or else he's just fucking drawing on himself with his own blood almost at random.  It's probably the former, given she begins to see patterns.

((Craft to copy, alternatively she can let him draw it))

((She lets him do it))

Lyla raises her hands as if giving up and lets him do his thing. There is a deep sigh that escapes her lips as she waits and glances at the door. Then she turns to follow what he is doing.

The blood on his palm seeps back into his flesh and then he takes hers, working deftly as he draws across her face.  "There we go- a little bit of adjustment for your native Essence- you're going to need to spend to keep the flames off, just a little bit, but I can't do this perfect without at least your fucking horoscope, third unknown name, and father's left eyeball."

He gestures at the door, "I stopped pushing essence so we can open it.  Ladies first?"

"Will do. Gimme a sec in return."

She gathers the firesuit with her, knowing the valuability of it and then walks to the door. There she takes a moment. Raging fire wasn't her shadows friend but she knew how to work around it. That second is spent on her essence adjusting and obscuring her features more once again. It annoyed her how Anthony had been able to see through it all. Also made her more suspicious of him.

"Lets go," she opens the door given its not locked without a key.

The fire rages and howls, sweeping into the pump station with a solid *THWOMP*.  The pumps begin to melt and the body begins to char, but the two of them are untouched.  If anything, Lyla feels a faint tickle.

"Lead on, MacDuff," Antony says to her, "I've no clue where the fire stops or starts."

"So you were in the pump room before the fire began but after the corpse? Its pretty much spreading all the time, so lets hope the way that I came in is still available," she answers when stepping out, a dark veil falling upon her eyes as temporary sunglasses against the brightness of the fire.

She had rushed in and followed signs, so all she needed to do now was trace those signs back.

"Do amuse me. You're quips. Literature or movies or just something you heard?"

"That's right.  Body in there, told to start the rite, did so, fire started soon after." He tells her as she starts to trace the way back.  It's a bit more difficult, seeing as there's rubble everywhere, and it's hard to see... but at least they're cold.  Smoke is an issue but it seems to be rising up and out somewhere.

"I told you, my parents had a weird sense of humor.  Before the Exodus I read an awful lot of Shakespeare.  The line's one of the last from MacBeth... shortly before MacDuff takes his head, I believe.  Which I'm still not convinced you're not going to do, Cleopatra."

"I won't. Unless you give me a heavy reason to do, like if you turn out to be an Abyssal agent. Or otherwise end up dangering innocent bystanders,"she responds almost carefreely and matter of factly. "Though for your sake I recommend when meeting other people that you shut up and let me do the talking. It'd do bad for us both if they were to think that you are the culprit and would haul you off before we had time to talk properly."

Lyla flicks a glance at him amd continues with a sarcastic note in her voice.

"But in the end you are almost free to say what you will. I'm sure that nothing I say will convince you that Im trying to help people. Do correct me if Im wrong... still wont be giving you the money though. I give most of my earnings away already."

"Look, Cleo, far as I'm concerned an Abyssal would've already murdered me on the spot or Lucifer would've burst through on golden wings and killed us both on the spot." Marc saunters behind her, stepping around a chunk of burning metal, "Just to be safe, though, I think I'm gonna leave out a few faint bits of info until a few days after this is all done, when I'll email your Agency the rest.  And you should tell your buddies that Marc Antony said one of your coworkers, Mr. Vargas, is a rotten cunt and you all should know it."

He spits and seems amused as the spit sizzles a split second out of his mouth.

Mr. Vargas is the code name of one of her informants in Crossroads.  He's a barhopper, skilled at moving from bar to bar collecting information and following it like a terrier does a rat.  Normally he's a pretty agreeable man- you'd have to be to be able to gather as much information in as many bars as he does.

At the mention of Lucifer, a chuckle escapes from the otherwise annoyed Lyla.

"Maybe his Abyssal sensing -radar is offline," whoa a joke.

Then she stops abrublty.

"In a few days? When this is over? It might not be if you sit on top of the info."

She turns to look at him.

"Look, pardon me that we started this all on a wrong foot. And due to that I don't think you'll really want to wait for a few days with me breathing down your neck. Neither of us want that actually. I'd much rather give you some hours of a breather with drinks on me in the callsign.." she tilts her head."...given you are old enough."

She turns to continue, leaving that subject as it is.

"I'll tell the boss about Vargas. Did he do something specific or was he just..being himself?"

"The Callsign?  Hmm... never been there."  He admits, "Figures an Exalt like you has access... and fuck yeah I'm old enough." A chunk of burning metal falls from the ceiling ahead of her.  "Vargas did my cousin dirty.  Chatted her up in a bar, took her home, played with her a bit.  Got her pregnant and keeps waving it off like he doesn't worry.  She's raising a kid now pretty much by herself."

He sighs and rolls his eyes,

"Look, the person who hired me-"

And at that very moment, the ceiling groans-

((Lyla, Awareness roll, difficulty 40.  If you have a minor action and are successful at the Awareness result you can devote it to a Finesse check, difficulty 30.))

((Aawareness 10, 8, 7, 6, 5, 5, 2 & 1.
18+20+10=48 vs 40
Minor action:Finesse 25+15+10 = 50 vs 30))

Despite the roaring and blazing flames, Lyla takes her time to stay on course, and sticks to the darker and shadowy areas on the corridors. Every step she takes in those areas lets her shadows a bit more loose, ready to explore their surroundings and cover her aura and their presence alarming her of a possible danger.

"Does that mean you are interested in visiting the place? It's rather comfy, and I know the owner," she glances at him, though mostly focuses on her surroundings that are falling apart, her whole body tensing up. "That motherfucker. I'll...we'll tell him for sure. Your cousins name?"

She makes a mental note to either tell Vargas to get his shit together and be a responsible adult, or if all else fails, at least assist the woman herself. She had good employees, who were good at what they did, but in other areas of life their position varied a lot so it didnt really surprise her. It did strike a nerve nonetheless.

Before he manages to continue the sound of the ceiling groaning catches Lylas attention before anything happens. In a split second she is looking for where the sound is coming from and ready to grab him by the arm; though tackling or pushing him aside was always an option. They might be safe from the fire, but stuff falling was a completely other matter.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:56, Sat 25 Aug 2018.

Lyla tackles Marc Antony before he can finish the sentence, landing in a pile on the ground atop burning metal.  The fire doesn't touch them but the shards of metal cut the smaller thaumaturgist's back and hands.

That's nothing compared to what would've happened if she hadn't done that.

Right in between her splayed legs, at about knee level- right where Marc's skull would have been- is a chunk of ceiling, yes; it's a chunk of ceiling in the way that a knife is a chunk of metal.  Sharp, serrated, and triangular, it would've split his head open like a ripe melon.  It's sunk several centimeters into the metal floor.

"Ow, fuck, ow, get off of me Cleo, this shit hurts!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:35, Mon 27 Aug 2018.

She looks at the part of the ceiling and their surroundings to be sure the situation has passed, letting out a breather of relief before turning to him:”You try that one next time and tell me if its hurts,” she inclines towards the part that fell while pushing herself up and offering him a hand.

No matter if he takes the hand or not, Lyla does eye him through incase of any more severe wounds before continuing forward.

”Lets pick up the pace a bit.”

He looks at that and lets out a quiet "Holy fuck" before he takes her hand and pulls himself up.  "Right- right, got it,"  He stammers.  He's covered in small lacerations and is bleeding in a bunch of places but at worst it's a few stitches.

"Yeah, let's hurry.  Let's go go go go."

He follows her lead down the hallway...

((Make a series of Awareness rolls, difficulty 40, with Minor Action options for Finesse, Toughness, etc. at 30+ if you make the Awareness check, just like the last roll.  Fail those minor action rolls 3 times and some bad things happen...))

((1st Awareness check:10,8,7,6,6,5,4 & 3
18+20+10= 48 vs 40
Minor action:Finesse 26+15+10 = 51 vs 30

2nd Awareness check:10,10,8,5,4,3,3 & 1
23+20+10= 53 vs 40
Minor action:Finesse 20+15+10 = 45 vs 30 interesting times?

3rd Awareness check:8, 7,7,7,5,1,1 & 1
Float 7-7-7
18+20+10=48 vs 40
Minor action:Finesse 31+15+10 = 56 vs 30))

After helping Mark Anthony up, she doesn't let go of it hand but instead when walking tugs him nearer to make him be under her shadows influence. Its easier to watch their steps when also his movement is tracked. Even in the mids of the blazing light there are small cracks of darkness, and when there isn't she makes them. The blue tinted shadows seeping out from her weave a way in between the flames.

"Stay close to me," she guides him but adds when hearing his tone."Hey, focus on me and on that drink you'll be getting afterwards. I'll handle the rest."

Its easy for her to be nimble and dodge, but thats not where she pays attention. She could take a hit or two, it was more important to get Mark Anthony out of the hazards way. When she focuses on dodging, her essence takes care of the rest, working as an extent of her will and as his shadow.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:52, Tue 28 Aug 2018.

((IT granted, take a ChivJoss.  Feel free to take a quick narrative break here; if not, make another set of 3 rolls, same as the last.  This time Stealth minor actions may be made at diff 60; a successful Stealth minor action negates the very need for a future roll))

The two dance and flit their way through the shadows much like a mosquito dragging a wounded gazelle.  Lyla is nimble, sharp-eyed, and quick.  Marc Antony is not.  As they move through the hall she hears a clatter and reacts just in time, pulling him in front of her; a piece of cabling arcing electricity slams into the ground just behind them.  A split-second later she hears the hiss of steam and forces them forward, a jet of steam hot and powerful enough to strip flesh from bone scouring the hall behind them.  But as she does so her thaumaturgical shield starts to waver; the steam isn't very hot thanks to the shield but it is powerful and moist, and the blood begins to run from their faces.

"Oh shit oh shit, we need to move!" Marc starts losing his insouciance.

They press forward.  Then she hears a rumble, vibrating the floor.  A hatch is in front of them, presenting a smoky but definitely-not-on-fire hallway.  She rockets through it with Marc in tow.  It's a close thing.  But a whole section of the wall staves in as if rammed by great force on the other side, and would've crushed Marc to paste if she wasn't so quick.

If she remembers correctly, there's a fork up ahead.  This section hadn't been that affected by the fire, but the worst of the fire is between them and the train, where the firefighters were.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:42, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

They tumble into the new hallway. The lack of fire is immediately refreshing and Lyla puffs out a breather. Her hands absentmindedly check her pockets, where her cigarettes are stashed in a metallic box. They'd need to wait a while. She brushes her clothes and turns to Mark Anthony, letting go of his arm but instead resting it in his shoulder.

"Mark Anthony, are you still in one piece?" her voice is steady and calm."..now then. How long will this shield of yours hold? There'll be most likely more fire ahead as well.. so."

She drops the firesuit that she had been also dragging along.

"If there is even a little chance that it'll give in, I dont want you scorched. So get dressed. Please," she points at the suit and helmet.

Getting burn wounds doesnt tickle her fancy, but she wouldnt probably die to them and her movement is better without the suit. A small thought amuses her on how she could complain about the event to Sayeed. Though...if the fire-elementals werent informed of the situations gravity over here, she should inform him anyway. Its not really their turf but still. Lyla looks at her comms device and deems that the fire and heat is not good for it. Also without a proper report it'd be a lacking message to be sent.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 12:11, Thu 30 Aug 2018.

"I've been pouring in a lot of essence but it's not easy for mortals," He admits, the sweat dragging blood from his face, "I'm.. what the fuck was that?  I felt like I was going to die at least three times..."

He doesn't argue.  The cockiness is well and truly gone.  He starts pulling on the suit.  "If I stop focusing on mine I can work on yours, but you might need a touchup."

Her comm seems to be at least in working order.  The ones the Exalts have been given are much better than most, designed to work even in a vacuum and transmit sound via bone induction if necessary.

"Do what you need now, but when we start proceeding again I don't want you losing focus from dodging and moving on my account," she notes spreading her arms open wide. "While you are at it, I'll try for a call."

Huh. Well. True enough the comms had survived worse than this but then again she felt sometimes that she lived in the pre-Ragnarök world, forgetting how advanced the technology was. She dials Sayeeds number.

While waiting and seeing if he picks up, she also sends him a text with coordinates and a status report on the fire and how its spread. To the end she adds the very urgent words of "please, I need your help, even though I'm not really here" that she'd never use if not really necessary and that this was all done undercover.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:37, Mon 03 Sept 2018.

Marc takes her hand without a word or expression, making a shallow cut to draw some blood to begin the rite.

Ring.  Ring.  He picks up before she can text.

"Lyla." His voice is smoke on honey, deep and dangerous, like a tiger smiling. "It's been so long since we've talked.  How are you doing?"

It had been a while, too long of a while, Lyla reminds herself as a wave of blush flushes from her cheeks to her ears. Her brows also raise at the surprise of him answering.

"Hi Sayeed, indeed it has. My bad entirely though. Unfortunately even now I have to say that if you wish to talk longer, which I'd love to, we need to see face to face. I'm...on fire, quite literally possibly in a moment," even though the situation is grave, she chuckles a bit. "There is a major fire loose at the hangar and I need a witness out of it. Think you could lend a hand, please? I didn't know who else to call."

"Ifrit are already on the scene but it's a big fire across a lot of floors.  Nonetheless I didn't know you were involved,"  He says, concern already in his voice, "Do you have the coordinates?  I'll make it there as fast as possible, personally.  And send an extra reserve team to the location just in case.  If you're in a safe place, stay tight!  Don't move!  If so, get to someplace with a good amount of air..."

Aww.  He sounds awfully concerned...

Lyla turns on her tracker and sends him the coordinates.

”Calm down, nobody knows Im here. An ombra agent here or there, no biggie. I just stumbled by. My safety is mostly guaranteed, though the dilapitating building causes its troubles for my ever talented thaumaturge company. So...just catch me at my location. I probably wont stay put and wait, but thank you. I appreciate this all, and I’m glad to hear that your people are already on site helping, though the extra might be needed, if not necessarily for my sake but this place is quite out of hands,” his concern makes the corners of her lips tug upwards a little.

She looks at MA and how he is proceeding with the rite.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:38, Wed 05 Sept 2018.

((Lyla, go ahead and make an Awareness roll, difficulty 50))

Marc Antony focuses on the rite, eyes squinting as he pays close attention with shaking hand.  He curses under his breath as he tries to wipe some sweat from her face.

Sayeed receives the coordinates and she can hear him curse, "You're right in the thick of it, how did you manage that?  Well, there'll be a fork down the way you're going- keep to the left, always to the left, and I'll intercept.  You'll have a path to fresh air, I guarantee it.  But you have to hurry!  They said the fire's stopped spread outwards thanks to the pumps shutting down, and someone's JUST managed to start up the venting procedure... you're well within the vent zone!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:36, Wed 05 Sept 2018.

((Awareness roll: 10, 10, 8, 6, 3, 2, 2 & 2
32+20 = 52 vs 50))

"You should know me. There is no place where I can't or won't go if I need to," she shrughs at the notion."Got it. Left it is. See you there."

The news were grave but there was no place for panic. She had let her guard down for the break, her veil of shadows having decreased in size to take a rest. She had focused her listening to the phone, but her eyes were constantly looking at their surroundings, just waiting for the fire to catch up.

Whether or not Sayeed was still on the comms, she turns to Mark Anthony resting her hand on his arm ready to tug:"We need to get going."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:30, Thu 06 Sept 2018.

A thought occurs to Lyla as she hangs up.  They're staying still, yes.  But all the things they'd just gone through- every single bit of it- was aimed at Marc.  Not a single thing would've hit her as it was; she'd had to tug him out of certain death over and over.

Just him.  Not her.

"I'm almost done, hold on.  It's more dangerous than you'd think if I don't finish it,"  He says impatiently, now applying it with more slapdash skill than before.  "OK, I think that'll hold..."

((1st roll :9, 9, 8, 8, 6, 6, 4 & 2
Awareness: 29+20+10 = 59 vs 40
Minor action: finesse: 28+15+10= 53 vs 30

2nd roll: 10, 7, 7, 7, 2, 2, 2 & 1.
Awareness:11+20+10=41 vs 40
Minor action: finesse: 32+15+10 =57 vs 30
Minor action: stealth: 37+20+10 = 67 vs 60
))

Lyla nods and regards Marc Anthony while waiting for that moment. She tilts her head to the side and frowns.

"How much do you actually know of the person who hired you? Name? How they look? Because they sure don't seem to like what you know."

She sighs, partially unintentionally, partially with being annoyed. She wasn't used to protecting people. Usually she was really bad at it due to her habit of pushing herself to the limit and trying her luck. And here she was, in a blazing inferno trying to get human out of it alive and in one piece.

"Despite their pathetic attempts, you will get out of here. I'm not gonna let some rabble outmaneuver me. And we are going to get some assistance soon enough," she pats his arm. " And now that you cocky attitude is taking a rest, I feel like I'm kind of missing it... Let's go."

Her essence almost burst out this time, having enjoyed the little break. The corridor offers much better hiding place for them as their shadows grow in size and number, enveloping everything in shades of blue. But even in the darkness, Lyla keeps her focus and placement near Marc, making her essence dampen his presence, breathing and footsteps. She wanted him to be as invisible as she was to the common folk.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:06, Sat 08 Sept 2018.

"Yeah, but-"  He frowns, "Okay, got what you're saying.  I'm not just a witness now, I'm a target.  Fucking great." He all but snarls, "Let's go."

They surge down the hallway, a wall of flame not touching them, smoke threatening their lungs, the light of the fire threatening to drive away her shadows.  But she still pulls him along- but he's in that big, bulky suit, and he's hard to hide.  She takes the first left, and here the smoke thickens just long enough for her to realize it's seeping through the floors.  She's forced to dive forward, dragging Marc along just before a hole opens up under his feet into some indeterminate floor below- it likely would have been a fatal fall.

"Holy shit,"  He curses as he scrambles up.  A wall of flame erupts from the hole, starting to suck the oxygen out of the room.  Lyla is having a hard time breathing!

"Now there's the attitude!

They duck and cover and weave, the fire wrinkling Lylas brow as she is battling for territory, almost close to growling at the aggressive flames. Her grip is tight on Marcs arm, probably sometimes too tight, but she just doesn't dare to losen it.

The sudden burst of flames causes Lyla to cough as her muscles and lungs tense at the lack of air. She takes a moment to hold her breathr, calming her body down to understand the situation and adjusting to it. Normally she mightve had a breathing apparatus with her but thanks to the meeting with Core, she had left most of her gear at home, having somehow delusionally thought that there was no need for such things.

"For Fucks sake! Drag your ass over here and choke me to death yourself if thats what you're after! Little more smoke doesn't do shit when you've smoked since early age," she spouts, clearly annoyed, her voice being projected from a different part of her shadow than she herself.

After that she continues on with determination, Marc in tow, sticking a bit closer to the wall where the floor was more steady thanks to the underlying beams and rafters.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:29, Mon 10 Sept 2018.

The smoke grows worse and worse.  "Come on, Cleo, keep moving,"  Marc tries to encourage her, stumbling along behind.  The thaumaturgist fumbles at his side and pulls a gas mask out of the side of the arm- no doubt meant to help provide air for people a fireman saves.  He pushes it into her hand, which certainly helps her in the air department.  The smoke begins to sting her eyes but they grope along until there's a left- and another left-

And then the hallway in front of them comes to a dead end.  They don't even have a moment to register before a burning red sword stabs through the metal and starts slicing through it like butter until it cuts a perfect hole through the bulkhead.  There's a rush of air and smoke towards the hole that abruptly stops.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:58, Tue 11 Sept 2018.

”Thanks,” Lyla gladly accepts the gasmask, finding his encouragements endearing and well.. encouraging, not that she was really going to give up or stop.

Following instructions, it’s all about left. The dead end confuses her momentarily, but hey it was a way to stop her from going the wrong direction..and moving about. When there is a sudden possible way out presented, she waits a moment to confirm her thoughts to be sure its safe, before moving on.

Lyla crawls in followed by Marc.  They're met by three Ifrit:  burning, muscled fire-elementals, each with eyes of burning coal and grave faces.  The tallest and most worried-looking is Sayeed.  He looks at her and gestures her in, "We've got to fuse the hole behind you- they've already begun the venting procedure and we've had to stop them from doing a full-on crash vent."  They stick the metal back into place and the other two start to weld the piece back in place.

Oh what a relief it is to see something friendly in the fire. On second hand Lyla was also sure that seeing this friendly face would quickly lead to her being lectured... oh well. She steps aside still holding Marc close.

"We probably look worse than we are," Lyla notes to Sayeeds worried look, imagining how peculiar of an art piece the blood and sweat had probably created."I'm glad to see you, and thanks already."

She turns to Marc Anthony:"Still in one piece?"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:41, Wed 12 Sept 2018.

"As good as I will b-" He then looks at Sayeed and the other Ifrit, "Oh, FUCK all of you."

One of the Ifrit grin and looks at Sayeed, "Well, well.  You didn't say we'd run across Marc Antony here.  As always, your wisdom is unparalleled."

"You're very welcome,"  Sayeed says to Lyla,  "I'm very happy to help."

"We'll take him off your hands now.  This thaumaturgist stole some things of ours a few years back.  Including the rite that's covering your face right now."  The other Ifrit tells her hopefully.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:22, Wed 12 Sept 2018.

Lyla shifts glances between MA and the Ifrit and Sayeed coughing a couple of times as am after effect due to the smoke.

”Oh he did? Well aren’t I lucky. Without it you probably wouldn’t be able to enjoy my pretty face as it is,” she smirks with that half smile of hers. ”So a thief as well. My my. You are in for a treat.”

She keeps a break just to let it all sink in, then raises a hand as a notion that she will continue. She also does take a step to stand next to Mark, her other hand laying on his shoulder as if ready to guide and escort. On the other hand it is there to keep him put.

”We need to discuss of a suitable punishment, because as it is right now...he is my witness and I cannot unfortunately hand him over Before we have a little chat. And before that happens I cant and wont let him out of my sight. My apologies,” she gives an apologizing nod, despite knowing that she isnt really expected to behave with such humbleness. ”That being said, lets step away from the dangerzone. I need air and a smoke...”
This message was last edited by the player at 05:43, Thu 13 Sept 2018.

"Nonsense.  He has to answer first to the Flame Court-" One of the Ifrit says, taking a step closer.

"Shut up, Zahir." Sayeed says to him in a kindly, don't-fuck-with-me tone. "If she is involved I'm inclined to let her do what she needs.  After all, isn't it said it's best not to stare down the sun?"  He fixes each of his companions with a look, "We can do that for you, of course.  Do you need a secure place to interrogate him?"

"Listen to Chief Burnman," Marc jeers at Antony, "A guy who hoards bread when everyone else is starving can't take a fucking moral high ground."

Zahir bristles but stays silent.

"My name is Sayeed, young Mr. Antony."

There is a rare glare from Lyla as well to Zahir, but it is very mild as she focuded bavk on Sayeed. Her shadow thinks though otherwise as it momentarily seems to grow larger. She does give a warning squeeze to Mark Anthonys shoulder when he quips back.

"We'd love a secure place, without thr need to look over a shoulder. I'll also need to find anything to freshen up a bit with, like a towel or a rag. Im not picky," she tugs at her sweat drenched and clingy shirt as sidenote.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:36, Sun 16 Sept 2018.

Sayeed is enough of a gentleman that his eyes don't drift down to her shirt as she plucks at it. "Right away,"  He says to her, "Zahir, Khousrow, go help with the rest of the firefighting efforts.  You two, please follow me."

Sayeed is being careful not to say her name aloud, likely figuring out that she's trying to keep things a bit more on the down low.

He leads them through a few more airlocks with a bit more rapidity than one might expect, suggesting that the crisis still isn't quite over.  But eventually they reach a hydroponics zone, a serene oasis of watercress growing in clear tanks with the most natural light Core can provide.

"I hope this is relaxing,"  Sayeed says to them.  "The water here is quite clean in case you need to wash up, though please let it drain on the floor."

Well there was nothing new to him to be seen under her shirt anyway. She nods and follows suit, escorting Mark Anthony beside her. Her gaze wanders in their surroundings, digesting the situation and its lenght. It had gotten so bad so quickly. When they reach the hydroponics, she releases MAs shoulder and takes a deep breath. The smell of greenery was always astounding.

”Thank you. Its more than enough,” she walks to a nearby tank, giving Sayeeds, hopefully not flaming, arm a passing squeeze, before turning to spill some water from the tank on her face, carefully avoiding that any of the blood contaminated water should drip back.

The feel of plants was somewhat relieving to her, so familiar, yet so far away. Not really caring about the nutrients in the water,she rather saves the fully fresh water for the plants. Her situationwas after all beyond saving without taking too much time. She rinses her face and some of her hairline along it, before straigthening back up and opening her ponytail.

”I dont want to keep you from your duties, as the situation seems quite bad, but if you wish to stay, you are more than welcome, Sayeed. I could use your wits,” she turns to look at him with a slightly tilted head and her half smile. ”Take a breather, and then we’ll talk. Do you smoke?” she inquires MA.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:20, Mon 17 Sept 2018.

"Don't worry so much,"  Sayeed tells her, "The drains go back to the primary filtration system, which grow more plants to begin with.  This is a closed cycle!  I'll be happy to help."  He's toned down the flames since he showed up, though his skin is hot to the touch, like someone with a body-threatening fever.

"Yeah, sure, the hell not."  Marc says as he washes himself down with some of the water, but not too much as well.  Like her, he must be reticent to waste water.  "

She unwraps her almost signaturemark scraf around her neck and examines its condition, rinsing a blood drop here and there.

"Give me a moment and I'll tone down my worrying of all things. Besides you never know what blood could do if it ends up in a wrong place," she shrugs and turns her back to the two, non-chalantly pulling her shirt off, having a sports bra underneath to those watching, and rinses the shirt in the water.

Instead of wearing it, she squeezes some water out and rests the soggy cloth on her shoulder when turning back to the two. Her hair is still clingy as she runs her fingers through it. Once the fresh air hits the back of her neck it sets her skin on goosebumps. She then goes through her pockets and fishes out a metallic case.

"Hope you don't mind," to Sayeed as she opens the case and offers a smoke to MA; it naturally being one of those rarities in pristine condition. Lyla was by now convinced that the whole of Last refuge stored these things only for her and Smoker, which was a miracle in itself given the quantities he smokes.

After the blazing fire the hydroponics feel almost cold, so she settles to stand under one of those faint natural lights, wrapping an arm around herself holding the cigarette in another. After another moment of going through her pockets, she gives a pleading look to Sayeed as once again having lost her lighter. Should start carrying numerous with me..or matches, she ponders.

"Whenever you're ready. The sooner you spill the beans, the sooner you stop being a target," she notes to MA, her voice already betraying her that she partially expects him to object.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:57, Tue 18 Sept 2018.

She can practically FEEL their eyes on her back.

"Some of those are new,"  Sayeed says as he looks at a scar going down her back, no doubt the longest one; "And here I thought you didn't get hit."

Marc doesn't stare as long as Sayeed  He waits until she turns and offers him the smoke; he takes it gratefully with a muttered "fuck yeah" but then notices he doesn't have a light.  This makes the teenaged thaumaturgist giggle a bit at the irony.

Sayeed sighs and dutifully lights both.

"Alright, so, okay, I'm Marc Antony, right, from Crossroads, picked up thaumaturgy because my mom knew chem and got a bit into alchemy and my dad was all about heroic literature like Campbell and shit." Antony takes a long inhale and starts coughing, "Shiit, okay.  Anyway, fuck.  This sort of thing comes easy to me.  It's like, uh, computer hacking but for magic.  You know the basics and get some stuff thrown your way and you can figure it out.  Some rites are harder than others, but I got a name for myself by stealing a bit of it from the Ifrit."

Sayeed folds his arms and nods grudgingly.

"You see those elemental and god types don't like giving away their secrets to us mortals because they think we won't need them any more if we do.  We'll make them obsolete, right? I don't like that stuff, I think instead of jockeying for strength we should be sharing what we can together, so I pulled a goddamn Prometheus on those cocksuckers.  I'd say no offense, but..."

"I don't think you can mutter a word without offending someone."

"Look, fire's a PROBLEM, okay?  In the Underforge especially.  So I got a name for myself, that and some select fertility rites, and- it's important shit to the poor in the Underdecks.  Problem is that some people like the Ifrit and the others didn't take very kindly to my theft.  So I've been basically hiding for a long ass time.  Doing small jobs here and there, enough to get by or at least to pay informers if someone came looking for me."

"Two years."

"Right.  Well, imagine my fucking surprise when a weird someone shows up at my safe house with my real name and says he has a job for me.  I'd paid real well to make sure nobody knew where I was at the moment, and also made sure that I'd get a warning before anyone even so much as knocked on my door."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:24, Tue 18 Sept 2018.

”I didn’t get hit... this time,” she emphasizes to Sayeed while flicking a glance at him over her shoulder, her other hand absentmindedly reaching to touch the tip of the scar near her shoulder.

Otherwise she remains cool as a cucumber but with his notion a familiar embarrased blush lurks to her ears. She wasnt thirsty herself, but for a moment it felt that some others were for certain.

"Thanks. You've spoiled me to ruin," she lets a small grin escape her lips to Sayeed when he lits her cigarette.

She pulls a long breather while listening to MA. Her gaze wanders to follow the smoke lingering in the air, a shudder running through her. The soft dripping of water is awfully soothing, after the roaring fire and ratling of ctumbling structures.

”I see your point. Both of yours. Its a familiar every day problem almost,” she nods and continues to listen.

”Two years? And then someone finds you just like that? That is a feat. How much they paid you, 2000 credits? How did they look, what name did they carry. Specifics, please,” she taps some ash on the floor, glancing at Sayeed. ”.. as an incentive I could always give a better word out for you in this case that you've managed to cause if you actually manage to help me in return...But I will not meddle if its not wanted. The latter is meant for Sayeed.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:21, Wed 19 Sept 2018.

Sayeed looks at her with an 'Oh, really?' look at the bit about being spoiled, but doesn't interrupt the current conversation.

"Yeah, fucking exactly.  And no, not 2000.  1000.  Standard rule, if you're gonna rat someone out, at least double what they're paying you.  Or give them the option to match, you know?  As far as the person... look.  I don't know if this guy was actually a guy or a girl.  Coulda been either.  A really really cute boy or a really tomboyish girl.   No chest to speak of, nice butt, but nothing like... look, I dunno.  Young, maybe 16?  Bunch of piercings on left ear, t-shirt, jeans.  Called him-herself Hales."  He tells them, "Seemed to know an awful lot about wards to get past my alarms.  Money was legit, though."

”What was the plan. How long were you supposed huddle with the pumps. Did you get paid in advance. Did you see them today. Did they have an accent. Were they always alone? Come on, you can do better. I already know that you are rather keen eyed,” she continues and puffs out some smoke rings.

She adjusts her position and crosses her feet from ankles, tapping some more ash away from her cigarette. There is a slight frown on her brow as she looks at MA with thoughtful gaze. Eventually when he finishes answering, her attention is directed to Sayeed.

”Any report or intel on the current situation and to what exactly happened in the hangar? I got a vague report when coming here but it wasnt much to work with,” a small sigh escapes her parted lips.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:53, Thu 20 Sept 2018.

"Money was legit, so up front.  I was supposed to handle the pumps until the fire went out,"  He explains, "They hired me for this two days ago, gave me a time to come on over here.  They didn't say shit about a corpse.  And yeah, they were fucking alone." He takes another inhalation of the cigarette and has a racking cough, "Definitely was an essence user, though, but unlike you, Cleo, Hales wasn't burning essence when he came through my wards.  Meaning he either knew my wards inside and out or he had some kinda way to bypass them without spending any energy.  Both of that's pretty fucking weird.  And fuck, accent?  On this tub?  Look, spend half a day in the Underdecks by Crossroads and you'll hear 50.  I don't even think about that shit anymore.  Hales spoke bog standard American English, and I don't know the old accents well enough to place however he spoke."

"Casualties are rising, about 100 total.  Most of them have been from secondary effects of the explosion- fires, smoke inhalation, things like that."

"Fucking explosion, what?"

"Yeah, an experimental torpedo went off in one of the bays.  They weren't sure if they should jettison it or try to contain it in the hangar, both were bad options- apparently if they just jettisoned it, it could've exploded and buckled a huge portion of the outer hull that isn't meant to be buckled, whereas the hangar deck is built to contain this sort of thing.  Eventually they decided it was time to let it go.  As far as I can tell the damage is contained to the hangar lab where it went off, but the secondary fires have been a nuisance."

”Fucking hell,” Lyla grinds her teeth at the news, her other hand clenching to a fist.”Well that damage is already, the question is whats to come next.”

She might say such things outloud, but the rub that she gives to her forehead and the tinge in her voice tell a different story. She was far from being okay with this sort of bullshit. The incident was nothing she could really do anything about and the lives lost were already done for, and thats why it was annoying. She wanted to have an effect and she would have that once she’d find the culprits.

”They’ll feel it in their skin when I catch them,” she mumbles, burning her cigarette from start to finish all too quickly. ”I need to make a call. Gimme a moment,”

Sonia might have more intel, but she also had more eyes. Then she would need to inform her own agents as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:49, Mon 01 Oct 2018.

"They?"  Sayeed asks, puzzled as he overhears her.  "You're thinking the explosion was intentional?"

The two leave Lyla to step aside and do her stuff.  Marc Antony eyes Sayeed as she steps away, looking at him like he's about to whip out a burning sword and cut him to pieces on the spot.

The phone rings twice before Sonia picks it up. "Hello, this one is speaking,"  Sonia says to her, "How can this one be of service?"

"It's more in the terms of everything being convenient and intentional and "them" until something is proven otherwise,""she returns to Sayeed, before walking further for her phone call.

Lyla is glad to notice that it doesn't take long for Sonia to answer.

"Its me. How are you? Busy with shopping or spending some well earned me-time in silence? I'm taking a break myself, just chilling with a couple of friends,"she tries the ice with their hastily put together code, just in case.

"This one is happy to hear from you.  This one is still out shopping, but she has found some interesting things in the outlets of the Lower Decks.  This one has been haggling with a shopkeeper over the cost of his merchandise.  He does not take the local currency.  Which is a shame!  This one thinks you would look quite good with a pair of his leather gloves.  Opera-style, perhaps."

Lyla hears a pained, almost feral whimper in the background.

"Right now there are all sorts of interesting stores open!"

“Sounds too good to be true. I’ll have to come and see it my self even through Hales and storm..or how was it they said? I dont even know how a Halestorm looks like, other than pretty. Aaanyway, things got rather steamy here, so It’ll take a while. My other friend needs some emotional support first. Catch you there?” She fiddles with a lock of her hair to push through a suitably carefree tone.

"Steamy, huh?  You'll have to dish.  But this one is a bit busy checking out the sales, so this one wouldn't want you to come out of your way until a particularly good one is found!  This one is still hunting.  You know.  Cutting coupons."

Another really, really loud whimper gets cut off by a dull *THUD*.

"This one has never seen a Hales storm but will try to dredge up some pictures for you later."

She chuckles, and after making sure the two don't kill each other, while she isn't watching, she turns her back to them to focus better.

"Well.. I found my other friend in the middle of the whole volatile situation, but being cool as a cucumber we managed to get together with another most certainly hot friend of mine. Then for a moment things escalated and it took us a while to find some respite. So far this threesome has left me drenched, so I'm happy I don't need to come there. I'm in no form to be presentable. Before you get concerned, I'm just exhausted!"

Yeah, her ears scream red hot. At least her tone would stay credible by how embarrassed she was.

"Ah, you are a darling. Though do note that they aren't supposed to be magical, even though it might seem so. Then again in these conditions almost any different weather is a marvel. If you've got time, send me a pic if you find something suitable for me.  I'll send you a ping should you want to catch up on me,"she lets out a sigh of relief."I'll let you continue with your shopping. Happy hunting and I'll talk to you later."

Unless Sonia has more to say after all that, she hangs up and turns to walk back to the two.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:03, Wed 26 Sept 2018.

"Happy hunting," Sonia says in a sing-song voice, "This one's about to start pulling apart coupon books!"

There's a muffled scream right before she hangs up.

When she turns back both Sayeed and Marc are looking at her with their cigarettes hanging from the corner of their mouths.

"Ah, you're a bit red," Sayeed says to her, "So, everything okay?"

Her brows are lifted way up after Sayeed's notion, her whole expression sarcastic as it is. She puffs out a smoke ring, before resting what is left of the cigarette between her lips, as stretching up to run her fingers through her hair and brush it all back.

"Ahem. At least try to keep your faces straight, before venturing too deep into your daydreams," not very convincing given her gaze that wanders away awkwardly."Yes yes. All's fine. Some bits of info for now, but in reality much more is needed for it to be useful. She'll look into Hales after having pulled out some...let's say favors."

She taps her comms once again to send info to the Ombra agents to keep on the look out for Hales, adding their location and possible appearance into it.

"About Hales: how did they get past your wards, did they seem to appear? When did you meet them the first time, date? Just to confirm my thoughts," she targets MA.

After he answers she turns to look at Sayeed:"What do you think will be needed from Mark Antony as a payback for his crime, Sayeed?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:38, Thu 27 Sept 2018.

"You got me how she got past."  Marc is quick to recover, or at least appear to recover.  Sayeed, on the other hand, is looking at her with that smoldering stare that she remembers all too well.  "Two days ago, let's say around 2 AM?  Ish?  And if I knew how Hales got past my ward I'd be telling you a LOT fucking more, lemme tell you.  I thought it was some Sidereal batshittery, I mean, getting past that means either a Solar or something, they definitely didn't brute force through."

Sayeed looks at the younger thaumaturgist, "Normally theft is punished by death, or the taking of a hand- sometimes stranger curses still.  But it depends."  He looks over at her, "It's clear Ifrit law is the less important one in this case.  You have the right to choose his punishment, Lawgiver.  Or to take it to someone else's jurisdiction."

((I dont have mal joss to spend. Chill :DD))

"Mmhmm. That sounds suitable. And they definately aren't a Solar. Dont you think in that case it'd have had a less criminal feel to it.." Lyla smirks.

She practically has to tear her gaze away from Sayeed eyes.

"Well we could always start with him working as a bait since they tried to kill him already quite many times. Putting his life on the line in this case could be the equivalent. But I still want to be sure its good with you. You know I don't trample over others with priviledges just because I could."

"Well, name someone that's... as..."

"Ah, now the other shoe drops."

"Fuck, I don't think they're Abyssal though!  They had normal skin!  Didn't look like they read goth poetry at midnight!  Didn't once threaten me or skin me!"

"I don't think that'd work, though.  Him as bait.  If that's all he knows, and he's told you, it'd be pointless to kill him.  They were trying to kill him before he could get out and inform you, right?"  The ifrit looks at Lyla, "I trust your judgment, however.  But the rest of the Flame Court will have to at least approve of the punishment, whatever it is, if you want to avoid... hmm.  The usual bureaucratic pettiness."

Sayeed walks over behind Marc and claps a hand on his shoulder.

"Of course, there's the hand, or the neck.  We could always find other uses for him.  I don't like to waste lives."

"Ah.Yes. True enough. Doubt they missed the part where I got him out. I tried my best for that, but I'm not sure if it was enough under those conditions," she finishes smoking her cigarette and twirls the lightly smoking bud between her fingers, while continuing sarcastically. "And you're right. I don't think they are Abyssal if they didn't read any of that. It would be shocking to be proven otherwise, given they'd be the first of their kind to not appear edgy."

She folds her arms on her chest, drumming her fingers on the other.

"Other uses such as? As a helping measure against bureaucratic pettiness I'd like to suggest someone to assist in his case if this goes to that. But I at least object heavily on wasting his life, or hands, since he clearly needs them to do his art and be useful.  I already tried to hire him as well, but he was reluctant. Understandably since some consider that punishment as it is. BUT it should weight heavily in his case that he assisted me, and kept me, if not alive, then at least unharmed. And young people make mistakes that they should be given leverage of. We can't really afford to kill each other here...Whats you opinion on this all, Mark Antony?

"Well, for starters..."  The ifrit looks down at Marc, "There's always putting him to work on a transport.  Doing more constructive things for the fleet.  We have a bunch of solar sail ships that would be willing to use him to help operate their power collection arrays.  Or we can put him to work as an indentured servant.  Give him a bit of training, discipline..."

"I say I was misled at worst and I should be let free, I ain't gonna be some Ifrit catamite."

"OR," Sayeed  interrupts him, "You sound like you could use a personal assistant."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:00, Sat 29 Sept 2018.

Capable of holding a straight face even infront of most dire situations, this case leaves the edges of Lylas lips twitch in amusement.

"IF..I didn't know you, Sayeed, I could take that as a quite rude way to inform me how I can't handle things myself. I hate it when you are right though. I'm busy and help is needed," she gives in with a chuckle.

"Unfortunately as we have noticed his talents lie in pissing people off and lying to them.  Obviously he can be eloquent and polite if he wants to. Not that I really care for that stuff, they are more of a Suits kinda thing. What I want is loyalty. Can you muster that towards people who aren't your family, friends or people who pay you hefty sums?"

"My beautiful jasmine flower, all of the great giants have had others laboring underneath them, doing the minor things that makes their great work function." He says, "Yes, he does have that wonderful, wonderful talent- but sometimes that can come in handy.  Or, perhaps, you can find someone to sand off those rough edges.  But loyalty... can we trust someone who just caved for us?"

Marc looks at them with his mouth hanging open, "Are you two fucking serious?!"

Lyla raises an open palm towards Mark Antony, to ignore him, mostly because she could and his face was totally worth it, before continuing to Sayeed.

"He obviously can also write, so I'd have less paperwork to do. Just imagine the dust and piles of papers I have laying about in my office. Not to mention my flat. And no, I kinda like the rough around the edges, thats what life makes us into. Nevetheless I do know a particular someone who'd talk, possibly also beat, rough edges out of anyone if need be. So there might be enough loyalty, but what about will? I can't have people giving into questions and people easily.

Just a little more and then the fun would have to end. The patience and nerves of a teenager were a fickle thing and toying with them too much wouldn't result in anything good.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:56, Sat 29 Sept 2018.

"Hmm.  Could always toughen him up.  A bit of light torture, perhaps.  Or put him to sparring with several of your friends.  Like Lucifer, perhaps."  He shoots a glance at the thaumaturgist, "Or we could do that.  But I'm certain many Ifrit will be overjoyed at the thought of testing his resolve."

Marc shuts up.  Maybe, for once, wisely.

"Or I could do all that myself, even though it doesn't suit a lady like myself. As much as I love your kind, I'm afraid that might leave him too signed. But if your court insists on it, who am I to disagree. I don't want to be suddenly known for harboring a criminal and pissing the ifrit off," she nods a few times.

Slowly but surely her smirk turns to a grin as she shakes her head with an accompanied chuckle.

"Ah, its been a while since I've had a chance or time for this sort of mischief. Thank you. That being said, yes, I am serious about taking him to work for me."

She pats Sayeed on the shoulder as a partial thanks in lack of any better for the moment before refocusing on Mark Antony.

"Before you let any maggots crawl out of your mouth, hear this: you are also most welcome to accept your fate with the ifrit. Or you can swear your undivided loyalty and trust to Blue Fox aka me. So whats it gonna be?
This message was last edited by the player at 23:12, Sat 29 Sept 2018.

Mark's mouth just hangs open.  The little blighter just figured out who the fuck he's dealing with.  Of course the Blue Fox isn't exactly the most famous of the Exalts, not like Lucifer or Jess or any of the other pre-exodites, but the general everyday person knows the name.

"Fuck the fire dudes, I'm with you,"  He finally blurts out.

"Well, was it so hard," Lyla smirks, partially that it took him only so little to give in, and extends a hand to him. "It seems you've heard something about me in the very least. I hope it's something good. I'll have you sign a contract, similar to Ombra but with some tweaks, maybe with more benefits and priviledges but with stricker rules, but for now a hand shake is enough. BUT I before that I need you to promise me not to mention -this-," she inclines to her face. "or your new employer to people. I know it spoils the fun but I like my privacy unlike some... so as far as I'm concerned Cleo is still a go in public places.

She waits for Mark Antony to shake on it before continuing with her line of thought.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:42, Tue 02 Oct 2018.

"Yeah, yeah.  I'm not gonna blab." He takes her hand and shakes it, "Just one fucking problem, I have no idea what Ombra's contract looks like, just that you've got a scumball on retainer.  I'm not kidding about that piece of shit either.  Hey, does this mean I can kick his ass?"

"Cleopatra?  Oh love,"  Sayeed shakes his head at her, "Don't give the boy ideas."

"Mostly its about your pay, your job description, professional confidentiality, your work benefits. Don't worry, you'll get into reading the lot, since you are in charge of paperwork," Lyla squeezes his hand back. "And no, it doesn't mean you get to kick his ass...at least yet. It means -I- get to kick his ass, scumbag or not he does his work. But I can't let such things happen."

She shrugs her shoulders innocently at Sayeed, a jesting tone in her voice.

"If you are jealous, feel free to use it as well.. pfeh, you know how much I hate giving out my own names. This is the result of me winging it. Besides aside from Cleo, boss is always good too, Blue Fox when there are people who know it around...and my real name maybe sometime if he survives from his first task."

There is a small sigh, as she takes her semi-wet shirt into her hands and squeezes some water off it, while turning back to Mark Antony.

"First task which is quite suitable for whats to come. Mark Antony, you'll go sort this mess you made with the ifrit, and explain to them how invaluable you are to me. I expect you to behave your best. Whether you do it now, or later is mostly up to Sayeed. If this case should need more political help, please contact Senator Raynes, and ignore if he says he is busy."

"Paperwork?  God damn it."  Marc mutters, "Paperwork!  I'm working for a fucking exodite and she's making me do paperwork..."

"He's a teenage boy, who I'll admit knows his fake history-"

"Hey fire guy.  Relax.  I'm not gonna hit on her."

Sayeed raises an eyebrow, "Well, then-"

"Not until you're gone anyway."

"... Cheeky."  Sayeed says dryly.  "Especially since we haven't left yet for you to make your formal apology to the Flame Court.  ... Cleo, since you're now his employer, you should know that the Flame Court will regard any insults he gives us as insults from you, personally."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:57, Sat 06 Oct 2018.

"Everybody has to start somewhere. Did you think I was going to send you off to deal with Abyssal spies... Hey even Lucifer has to do his paperwork."

When the two get into something similar to arguing, Lyla just sighs and rolls her eyes. She looks at her comms and locations system to see what other locations Core marked to have disturbances that might clash with where Hales was seen.

A brow is arched when Sayeed calls her Cleo.

Then she raises her voice ever so slightly, some shadows gathering on her features:"Enough. Mark Antony I hope that me saving your ass five times out there pays off with you behaving. Also its Sayeed, not fire guy, teenager... Also Sayeed, I understand but its enough now. I believe in redemption. Can I have a word with you in more private?"

She taps a pocket of hers, the cigarette case letting a metallic echo when she inclines her head towards a bit further away from where they are standing.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Sun 07 Oct 2018.

There's another location- hmm, a section adjacent to Pandora Bay.  Not far.  It looks like high-energy physics labs near the engines.  There's still no data on who Hales is, exactly, or where he/she was last seen... but that's another start.

"Absolutely you can."  He says with a nod, "Stay here.  I'll be back.  Give me a good reason to be lenient on you."

The ifrit walks away towards her, fire flaring just a moment for emphasis.

Lyla takes a step aside away from Mark Antonys direct line of sight. She leans onto a nearby wall and lets out a deep sigh when Sayeed is there and they are at least an ounce more private.

"Do spit it out if its foolish of me to believe that he could redeem himself. I can see how annoyed you are by this situation and for a reason. Just tell me to stop trying if you don't agree on it. Then I'll know the other ifrit won't sure as hell agree on it. Trust me, I would come personally, I'd love to, to sort this mess out. You've all been invaluable to me through these years, especially you. But I'm currently tracking down something that Michael put me up to, and usually people shouldn't ignore Cores troubles."

She pinches the bridge of her nose when talking about her task. After which a sly grin appears on her lips as she looks at him with a tilted head.

"Also are you jealous. like really. Or is it the way he talks to me. Give the kid some slack, he just treats me like a normal human being. I'm not a goddess to be worshipped by all, even if you disagree in that," Lyla lays a hand on his and chuckles a tad.

"No, I'm actually going to encourage it.  I don't like the little shit, but as I said, the punishment they want for him is... wasteful."  He listens, "... Core asked you to do something?"

He tactfully does not respond to her other question, though he squeezes her hand.

Her expression is something tipping towards pleasantly surprised. She tilts her head and squeezes his hand back, slowly the warmth from him spreading to her cold fingers.

"Eh. Yeah, I need to catch somebody who is currently leaping through time causing abnormalities. I'm currently trying to pinpoint their location. So next I might go towards Pandora Bay to question some people. Lucky me that I don't need to go anywhere presentable," she replies with a tired joke in her voice.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:09, Wed 10 Oct 2018.

"Through... through time."  Sayeed repeats slowly, "There are time travelers here?  And these abnormalities are bad?"  He sounds horrified, and for good reason.  He squeezes her hand again for emphasis.  "Are you certain you don't need my help?  I know I'm not the stealthiest of people, but I'd prefer being on hand to bail you out if you need it.  Can you at least take a nap?"

“Anything is possible these days. Dont take it to heart. Its probably an anomaly and wont happen after this.”

His concern is heart warming.

”No, Im not certain I dont need your help. I always appreciate it. But who else can I trust to look after MA and to know my thoughts on the matter other than you..? Though I could always bother Swan Dragon but I might nit know him well enough for this to do so. I wont stop you if you come along, but I do need more reasoning on the matter.”

She shakes her head. There is a passing thought how she should probably address his jealousness but there'd be time for such talks later. So the issue doesnt really stick to her.

”Do I look that tired...Its not even evening yet. You should know that I cant rest before accomplishing something. Leaving things unfinished bothers me like crazy. So maybe later, I could actually come by your place or you could come visit. Which ever suits. When Im actually free. How about?”
This message was last edited by the player at 17:49, Thu 11 Oct 2018.

"No, don't bother Swan Dragon right now.  He's still recovering."  The ifrit shakes his head, "And yes, you look exhausted and sweaty, like you need a shower and a 20 minute nap.  But I know you, and your drive to complete things has always been one of your most attractive qualities."  He holds up his phone and texts something, "There, my address and the pin to my apartment.  Come along whenever you need a break, or text me, alright?"

”Yeah he needs his rest. Hadn’t rested in forever apparently,” She nods in agreement.”I wont argue about the shower, or the nap, or clean clothes. But it is what is. At least I’ll blend in better at the Pandora bay.”

She regards him while he talks, a small smile on her lips:“Thanks. I promise to drop by after this. No matter what.... now we should probably get back to the little asshole and get this show on the road.”

A moment of hesitation and akward pondering, a tint of blush on her ears, she ends up lingering before deeming it suitable and reaches to plant a kiss at a corner of his lips. He’d earned it.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:27, Sat 13 Oct 2018.

"The only reason you'll blend in there will be because you choose it.  Otherwise you'd shine like a diamond in mud." He gives her a smile- a wolfish smile reminiscent of the old Sayeed in happier days.  He reaches out to take her hand, bringing it up and kissing it with a kiss that burns sweetly against her skin.  "Do stop by.  I'll have wine, a hot tub, and a massage table waiting for you."

Was she still in the middle of blazing inferno, because it sure felt like that..just maybe in a more pleasant way. Like in the  days of old He manages to make her feel extra awkward and unsuave. Guess some things never change. She pulls the still slightly damp shirt on her.

“What did I say about spoiling me to ruin...” She mumbles a bit contently before returning to Mark Antony.

“Alright then. Time to get back to work. I have somewhere to be, but as said you’ll be presenting me and you -will- pull this off.”
This message was last edited by the player at 17:00, Mon 15 Oct 2018.

"Yeah, okay, fuck."  Marc mutters as he shakes his head, "Hey, do a favor, yeah?  If this was indeed a piece of shit that was playing me and making me out to a baddie tear out a few of their teeth for me, fucking asshole."

"And call if you need me." Sayeed tells her again, "And call if you need me."

He then takes Marc by the shoulder and frog marches him out.

”I will,” Lyla replies to Mark Antony and gives a pat to his shoulder as an encouragement. ”Yes, I will,” She replies with a nod to Sayeed, smiling  when looking after the two.

She wraps the scarf back around her neck, letting its end rest at her front to cover the not-so-pristine shirt. A glimpse at the mapping system, and she is off towards the section adjecent to Pandora bay, on the way taking refuge in any shadow she finds to avoid any unnecessary stops.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:36, Mon 15 Oct 2018.

The trip to the next section should only take her half an hour.  Instead it takes her three.  The fire in the hangar and subsequent shutdown has made her take a different section of rail, a suboptimum route.

Eventually she finds herself at a large workshop bay, next to the hangars.  It's a fighter workshop, three ships filling the hangar.  Workers are hard at work cutting out a section of the hull, likely to serve as an emergency exit for the fighters while the hangar's under repair.

She spots a familiar face there.  Pak "Kumiho" Nari is working on her interceptor, the Janggunjeon, and has apparently just cut a fuel line while adjusting one of the speed regulators.  Lyla knows what this feels like, having done it the very first time she tried to do the same thing.  The difference between the two was that Lyla was able to dodge the oil spray in the process, but Kumiho hasn't.

The pilot curses in Korean as she drops a spanner and picks up a thing of seal tape, oblivious to Lyla's presence.

Was it like this to commute to work everyday? How tedious and mindnumbing. Luckily (or unluckily)Lyla had never been inclined to a such career that required such basic every day traveling. She does take the longer route as a chance to see what has changed in the ever changing Last Refuge, it'd probably always have something new to be noticed when looking from a different point of view.

Case in point the temporary hangar bay. Delighted to see something more familiar than odd inventions and gagdgets she'd never guess how to use, she walks closer to loon.

Spotting Kumiho is a pleasant surprise, and her accident lifts a passing smile on her lips. She walks to her, snagging a cleaning rag from someone else not paying any attention and leans to the fighter.

"That happens to everyone. Need a hand?" she offers her the said rag for wiping the possible oil spillage.

"Huh?  Yeah, thanks-"  Kumiho takes it and then does a doubletake, "OH, HEY, Blue Fox.  How're you doing?"  She wipes her face off, "I should be more embarrassed, someone warned me about this already and here I go, doing the exact same thing.  What're you doing around here?  Don't you have your own personal hangar on the Enterprise or something like that?"

Her expression is a tiny bit amazed at the Enterprise part, but for completely other reasons than her ship. Ah, well, it wasnt a secret that she had left Benisuzume there.

“Heh, hi Kumiho, sorry for the surprise. I’m good as always, wasting time while solving problems within the Last Refuge, before sent out to deal with issues there. And how are you? Busy training and honing your skills? Ah, hmh, yeah, I left Benisuzume there so it wouldnt be on the way. Its crowded as it is,. But that doesnt mean i shouldnt check whats going on around here. What are you dealing here with, just maintenance? “ She inclines towards the ship.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:50, Thu 18 Oct 2018.

She ends up hovering over Kumiho's shoulder as the Lunar turns around to point some things out.  Kumiho points out the speed governor, "Yeah, it's gotten crowded.  But I'm not really doing basic maintenance!  I mean, you know most of us overclock our interceptors, I'm seeing what happens when I start messing with moonsilver gauges.  I hope to make it a bit more efficient, adjust with the essence flow..."  She starts to talk rapidly, "I saw a lot of problems during the last mission we were both on, nothing huge, but we need everything we can get, right?" She abruptly turns around, their faces about 10 centimeters apart.  Kumiho's missed a spot of grease on her cheek.

"Its your ship, it should behave the way you want it and not restrain your flow of essence. I remember how in the early days I managed to bust a few valves here and there, when pushing myself to the limits without overclocking the ship," she chuckles.

"Yeah, as said we need everything..." her talking is brought to a halt when Kumiho is suddenly face to face to her. "Ah, you missed a spot," its less of a notion, and more of her saying what went through her mind.

Before Kumiho has time to react, Lyla had already brushed the oil spill away, busy wondering where to clean her hand now.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:39, Thu 18 Oct 2018.

"Yeah, uh-" There's a long moment of awkwardness before she reaches out and takes the rag to clean off Lyla's thumb.  Then she hastily draws her hand back, taking a half step back towards her fighter.  "Yeah, um, so, everything.  Anyway, yeah, uh, there isn't much literature on the moonsilver parts for some of the specialty connectors.  But, wanna know something weird?" She turns and beckons Lyla closer, opening up an access hatch near the central nose-engine.  "Take a look in there."
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 21:11, Thu 18 Oct 2018.

Awkwardness is something very familiar to Lyla, given she just freed herself from the awkwardness that Sayeeds presence left on her when he disarmed her of responses, so she gives the Lunar a moment to gather herself. Its also somewhat curious to witness the snappy and always ready Kumiho to be at a loss of words.

"Shame really. Here are all sorts of marvelous minds packed together, but somehow they also skip on experimenting enough to write it in books."

She takes a step closer to peer whatever she is showing.

"Whats it?"

Lyla has to practically stick her head into the engine compartment to take a look.  Kumiho lays a steadying hand on her back.

There, clear as day, she can see the pistons of the engine, the governors, and several jets for redirecting velocity in space.  It's all some pretty basic stuff the interceptor uses for steering.  She knows it like the back of her hand.  Which means she knows when something's been fucked with.  She's no mechanic, but if Kumiho took off in this thing, she'd be lucky if it'd fly in a straight line at a steady speed.  She'd more likely ram it into the side of the Last Refuge.

Kumiho says in a low whisper, "Look weird to you?"

"The fuck. Whats happened? It most certainly shouldnt look like that. Have you flied with this thing?" she looks closely, concern quite audible.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:20, Thu 18 Oct 2018.

"Nope.  I was hoping to, once they got the temporary hangar all set, to check out the damage and run interference for the construction battalions in case of any Abyssal ambushes."  She continues to say, leaning in close over her so they can hear each other better.  "I check every time.  It's an old habit we had in Gyrfalcon.  Always check your engines, you know?  The computer can't tell there's a problem either.  Nothing on the system diagnostics."

Kumiho might have to lean even further to manage to whisper to Lyla, because even when bent over, she has the advantage of being the taller of the two. If there is tension between them, it oddly enough doesnt show on Lyla, who takes Kumihos approach casually.

"When did you notice this? Anything unusual happen around your ship? Mhm, that is weird if it doesnt show on the computer. It should if its to cause problems."

Lyla leans out to take a look about the hangar.

"If itd seem that its taking too long a while with the hangar, I could perhaps get it checked with the help of Enterprise. Because It does make me wonder if your ship is the only one. Odd things do happen every now and then with trickster gods but usually even then there is a pattern."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:52, Fri 19 Oct 2018.

"Noticed it right after I got it moved here.  Funny thing is- it was fine all the way until I got it in the hangar.  I don't think I left it alone for longer than a minute or two after I came here."  She says, "And yeah, the big problem with the hangar's that the way in is blocked, the way out, they're still working on the essence field that keeps the atmo from leaking.  And that's a hell of a trick for a trickster, huh."

She stands up straight and looks out at the jury-rigged job they're doing.

"Transfer out's possible but it'll take a couple hours, I think."

The changes is Kumihos ship were hardly a coincidence with the coordinates that lead her to the hangar in the first place. Something in the place was amiss. Perhaps someones meddling had realized itself as a machine that was capable of such. A machine that'd stay immobile would be easier to find than a person. Lyla gets lost in thought for a moment.

"Well hey, if the problems occured when you arrived here, they should also go away once you leave. But before you take that as a fact, I think looking around a bit would do good. To find out if someone else has witnessed something amiss. Also Its an easy way to spend those idle couple of hours since getting a drink isn't an option."

"Wait, drinks aren't an option?  This is the Last Refuge, someone has to have booze somewhere.  This ship is practically swimming in it." She frowns, "But yeah, let's look around, huh?  Most of the ships in here are mortal ships, none of them would have a problem if we decided to take a look.  Hell, they might even think we've blessed them."

"Oh, ofcourse we could find booze just about anywhere. Actually I think that one guy just sipped from his pocket flask. But I try not to drink when I'm working. Not that it'd really effect anything," Lyla shrugs.

"Yeah. Let's look around. You're leading, I'll be tailing," she grins. "And watching you very closely. I don't do much blessing, it's more of a Daniels thing."

"Yeah, don't watch me too closely, that guy's cheeks are already burning."  Kumiho winks at her, "Don't want to give the tabloids too many new stories, huh?" She starts strutting down the hangar, looking at the other ships, "That one first, I know he's been in the sickbay for two weeks... I promised I'd take a look at it later, though I think I was kinda lying..."

"Will do. I've had my share of hot and burning things for today...or at least for a moment,"Lyla tags after Kumiho, letting her essence flow freely to mask some of her features. "Too many new stories? Of me? I hope them to have close to none. What are the latest hottest topics then? I haven't at least intended to give them any reason...But its not like they ask."

She sighs, the whole subject of news and tabloids and gossips always somehow managing to hit that small nerve, that made her feel uncomfortable and annoyed. Luckily she had also learned not to take those things to heart, and just let it go, like the song went.

"What, you haven't seen the tabloids recently?  Lots of juicy stuff, though not about you.  Mostly about Lucifer and some increasingly stupid rumors about who he's screwing..."  She waves a hand and rolls her eyes as she approaches the other interceptor.  She flips open a maintenance panel, "I keep an eye on the rags, though, I like to scrapbook a bit.  Ah, here we go."  Her caste mark starts glowing to illuminate a particularly dark section of the interior, "Well, Miss O'Rourke really, really needs to learn how to change her oil...  check the wing thrusters?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:52, Thu 25 Oct 2018.

"I..havent paid attention to them much. If I do pay attention, I start analyzing about what is the truthful part behind. Enlighten me, who is Lucifer screwing with then?"

A small chuckle escapes from her as she walks to check the thrusters. She prefers to use a traditional flashlight instead of hee caste mark though.

"Scrapbook. Oh now -that- is interesting. About what though?"

"A bloodthirsty demon and a random goddess, beats me who."

The thrusters aren't looking good either.  In particular Lyla notices a small screw-on panel that protects a microthruster doesn't look like it's completely shut and screwed down properly.

"Well, everything involving me.  See, there's this culture for us pilots, especially the fast ones... when we die, which was a lot, there'd be little left behind about us.  So think of it as a bit of my own personal history.  I was here, I did things, read this to find out about me, you know?"

Its really hard to hold back the sigh that escapes her lips as a bit louder than intended. She leans in closer to inspect the panel while mumbling something about a talk and Lucifer.

"Thats nice. To have like a biography of sorts. I'd heard little about that habit. Have always just found it too hard to apply it to myself. Though its not like you'd be forgotten with your current deeds and future deeds. But recognizition is not the same as people actually knowing you for who you are."

She reaches to screw the panel away to see better.

"Makes me kind of want to see it someday. Also I think something amiss here. What about there?"

"Sure, I can show it to you later.  And yeah, I don't imagine you'd do the same.  You weren't mortal when you boarded this tub.  There's not that much to differentiate between us there..."  She moves away from her spot, "What do you have there?"

The panel comes away.  Inside some of the tubing is loose- these carry coolant to the microthrusters.  End result would be that after too much use the tubes would pop off, the microthruster would overheat, and then the wings would explode.  Whoever was piloting this at that time would end up flying an uncontrollable meteor.

"Hey, you never know if I'm inspired by you and decide to do the same."

She sighs at the sigh. Sabotage. It does remind her how they ended up having the killsquad on board that Daniel had to take care of. Wonder if something managed to sneak in similar way.

"As much as I hate to say, I'm afraid nobody will be flying out anytime soon if all the ships have had this treatment."

"I'll show me mine if you show me yours," She muses as she looks at the tubing.  "Wow, so... what the fuck?  How did this happen?"  She folds her arms, "I mean, this isn't something you can just... do... without someone noticing..."

"If I knew how happened, I wouldn't be here. -I- could go this without anyone noticing, but that requires a lot. And if I was to be spotted, someone would remember me. So either they are super sneaky, and or can make people forget them."

She takes a picture of the tubing to document.

"Who runs this operation of moving the ships here?"

"Well, there was a whole team of specialists.  Their foreman's over there,"  She points up at an observation platform; Lyla can see an assortment of six men and women talking over some blueprints.  "It's been the same crew since they started."

"I guess it can't be helped," Lyla steps away from the ship, and adjusts her scarf. "Mortals? Doubt they've seen anything if you haven't, but you never know."

With that she begins to walk towards the mentioned platform.

The foreman and his team don't seem to notice her.  But when she heads up the stairs of the hastily-erected platform they're a little curious as to who's bothering them.  Confusion turns to quick obsequious smiles once they see Kumiho walking behind Lyla deferentially.  Ah, right- not everyone knows what she looks like, but if the Lunar's shadowing her and staying quiet, maybe they'd best listen.

"I'm Foreman Cuttle, how can I help you?"  He's an older guy, his paunch stretching his shirt, beard graying.  "We're moving as fast as we can but that essence field machinery still isn't in place."

Lyla doesnt really care that they dont know her. Most people dont. Thats why she lobs around her businesscards for Ombra Agency. People were suckers for official papers anyway and she was lucky to have asked for a "multipass"ages ago. But Kumihos presence makes it easier. A  lot easier.

"The work so far is excellent. I have to comments about that. Ombra Agent Alpha, here to investigate the side effects of the accident,"she extends a hand."I have a few short questions if you dont mind answering me."

She keeps a polite break before going:"When and by whom were you alarmed to do this? Alls been well? Nothing out of place?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:06, Wed 31 Oct 2018.

"The spook show?" One of the foreman's workers mutters to another.

"Yeah, sure.  I'll answer."  Foreman Cuttle answers, "Really this was already on our radar from a few days ago, probably because of the weapon testing they wanted to step up recently.  Pandora Bay and the hangar guys were getting upset, saying there was a 'lone point of failure' which honestly sounds about right considering the shitstorm that's happening right now.  We moved these fighters in through ship transport a few hours ago.  But as far as I can tell, except the massive explosion, we're still going.  In fact I think we're doing better than we thought all things considered."

"I see. What a lucky coincidence. Who was the one that commissioned and voiced the concern before shit hit the fan? Glad to hear that things a going smoothly. You have any sort of surveillance going on here? It'd be terrible if something were to happen due to the explosion and the side effects it has," she ponders outloud.

"Some bigshot scientist lady, that Xiao woman.  She said she was seeing a lot of math going wrong and wanted to make sure some stuff was clear."  Cuttle explains, "Sure, we got tons of surveillance. Cameras every step of the way.  Has someone been stealing again?  We got some sticky-fingered crap god a year or so back that was filching all the copper."

"Ah, her, I see," there is a cold dull tone in her voice. "Do you record it all? We'd like to see some of them. Just to check the transportation of Kumiho's ship here, to be specific."

"Absolutely.  Here," He hands her his PDA and starts dialing it back.  Kumiho steps over to her right to get a look.

Sure enough it's there, from the moment she steps out of the cockpit to the current moment, several hours of footage. Each ship has a similar file.  Fast-forwarded they land in the current hangar, get transferred to an elevator, dropped into a subsidiary maintenance bay, loaded into a conveyor, transported to another maintenance bay- this one more ad-hoc- then brought up via a final elevator, where they spend the next fer hours going through maintenance.

It culminates with a blurry blob that is Lyla walking up to the platform.

"See?  Cradle to grave."

But that's a LOT of people that move back and forth working on Kumiho's ship...

((Awareness roll 50 would be nice; alternatively you can Wu Wei it))

((Awareness: 10, 7, 6, 6, 6, 4, 4 & 2
float 4-4
36+20+10 = 66 vs. 50 ))

"Thanks," Lyla takes the PDA and turns more to Kumihos side so she can see it as well, when rolling the tapes.

Well, it takes one to know one. When it comes to hiding in plain sight, dodging into the shadows and appearing out of nowhere, there is no-one like Lyla who'd know it better. There is a lot of traffic going on, sure, but that traffic was only there to distract. It also helps that she has a generic idea on how their possible perpetrator does their job and how they might look.

She goes back and forth on the footage.

"Got to say, I appreciate your surveillance system. It's very good."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:47, Tue 06 Nov 2018.

"Thank you, Exalt. We try our best!"

She spools through it again, her enhanced Exalted senses helping her parse through the hours of footage.

It's a frame.

A single frame.

She's not sure how fast their surveillance tapes are filming, though she'd guess it's higher than the ship standard at 24 FPS.

There's a sudden, short boy- or girl- standing next to Kumiho's ship, hands deep in the guts of the engine.  A baggy orange techsuit, a baseball cap, and a face kept close to the ship help camouflage the person from the general milling-about.  The person appears literally as Kumiho has gotten off the ship and turned around, popping into existence behind her for that single frame and then disappearing.

"... The hell?"  Kumiho swears as Lyla slows it down to that single frame.

There is an inkling in her that wants to correct him, and give him her name, but she resists. She stops at the frame and takes a screenshot of it, relaying it to her own PDA.

"Gotcha,"she smirks.""Though I guess you haven't ever seen her..him..before. At least we weren't imagining it all."

She shows the frame to Cuttle:"Anyone familiar?"

Cuttle frowns darkly, "I have never seen that person before in my life.  I'm... let me dial up security right now.  I'm so-" He gestures one of his aides over, snatching her PDA away and starts to take the recording, "... I am so fucked.  I'm sending a report to security.  Fuck fuck fuck.  I can't believe we let a security breach happen on our watch!"

"I couldn't even see that,"  Kumiho says in awe, "And I never even noticed that in person...!"

((Inspire: plz to chill, the security is here: 10, 7, 7, 7, 5, 3, 1 & 1
37 = 37 ))

She holds on to the PDA, despite him pulling it.

"Calm down. The security is already here. Blue Fox, Chosen of Sol Invictus. No need to alert any extras, Lucifer is not available. Sorry for not identifying immediately," she lets her shadows take a bit of a different shape, so that she is there herself, while continuing calmly. "This is under control and being investigated as it is. You are not in trouble, and there is no way you could've spotted them."

She lets go of the PDA.

"Oh... oh gods..."  Cuttle looks a bit weak in the knees, "I just..."  One of the other workers puts a hand on his shoulder, steadying him.  "... Yes, yes, if you say so, Blue Fox, it must be true."  He rallies admirably, no doubt buoyed by Lyla's personal assurances.  "We've always been... so proud to be your crew.  Is there any other way we can help you?  Any way at all?"

Lyla reaches out to give a pat on his shoulder.

"Thank you. I truly appreciate your help. Its invaluable. And if you really wish to do something extra, because I can see that you are plenty busy as it is, it'd be good to check all the ships before sending anything out. I'm not sure if I could call this sabotage what they are up to but it sure can cause unnecessary trouble," she nods. "So Shun Xiao was behind this. I guess I'll need to talk to her."


She turns to Kumiho and waves a dismissive hand:"Now, now, I just knew what to look or had a hunch."

"We're going to take them apart,"  Cuttle tells her seriously, "Down to the smallest rivet and put them back together again.  Call in the emergency maintenance crews too, and that one God of Autismachinery."  He whistles,  "STRIP DOWN!  STRIP DOWN!  NO DRILL!"  He turns back to Lyla, "Yeah, she made the suggestion... you want us to put the word down to all the rest of the fleet too?"

Eh, its a bit of exaggeration but oh well. They knew better.

"No, don't say a word of this or of my presence to the outside. Keep it private. I'll put the word out when it doesn't mess the investigation and such," she advices.

"Shit.  I'll say it's a drill later then.  Or swear people to silence."  Cuttle seems to have fully regained his confidence.  "Please let me know if there's anything else we can do!"

"Want me to come with you?"  Kumiho says once Lyla steps down from the platform, "Or do you want me to keep watch over these guys?"

"Send these tapes to the Ombra Agency and wipe your data clean. Then thats all I can think of. Just keep up the good work," she gives a rare, though half, a smile.

Then she turns to Kumiho when stepping down:"I sure don't mind the company but I doubt its any interesting. Whatcha wanna do? I guess its your freetime so I wont oblidge you to anything."

She looks around the slight "Not a drill" panic mode gripping the area.

"I am a bit concerned on how these guys will fare. The foreman seemed to get a grip so I think things will settle in a while."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:38, Fri 09 Nov 2018.

"Not interesting, she says- finding a split-second saboteur that I couldn't even sense."  Kumiho remarks, folding her arms, "But I'm not really a spy, just a pilot, so... I guess I'd get in the way.  On the bright side, these guys do know their stuff when it comes to the ships.  They're one of the better crews."

She drops her voice low, quiet.

"What the fuck was that anyway.  I mean... that didn't look like a god."

"Just a pilot, she says after fighting against a horde sent by the Neverborn," Lyla mimics in retaliation, a heavily sarcastic tone in her voice. "Okay, then its settled. Tag along. You'll learn how to be a spy really quick...especially since its an open visit."

She tilts her head to the side and steps closer to answer.

"I can't really say what or who it is yet before I catch them with my own hands and can witness it all with my own eyes. Probably not an Abyssal based on the info I've been given. Most likely a vigilante or someone with their very own idea of justice and how to fix things."

"Yeah, in a ship,"  She says with a dopey grin as she lightly punches Lyla's shoulder.  "Fine, fine, I'll tag along."

She listens and gives a little grunt of understanding.  "Fix things?  By splattering me across the side of the Last Refuge?  That's a pretty fucked up idea about justice or fixing things.  So.  How are we gonna catch them to find out?"

"Ship is just a tool. You are what makes it do miracles," Lyla rubs the shoulder that she punched as if it'd felt bad. "Well if it makes this easier to understand, we can always say he or she is an Abyssal spy on the loose and tried to get rid of you. That being said, so far their plan of action has been too erratic for my tastes to make this effective Abyssal terrorism....Though that being said out loud, it actually sounds more plausible given the rate of casualties they are aiming for."

Kumiho in tow, Lyla heads towards to where she could find Shun Xiao.

"Sorry for rambling. Its been a busy day, and I haven't had anyone to whom I could actually talk about these things to toss ideas. Do say if its too much."

She pauses after a sigh.

"Oh. Is Kumiho fine or do you prefer your own name?"

"Nah, it's fine.  I like talking to you, you know?  We don't know much about you, but hell, us interceptor pilots... we fucking worship you, girl."  Kumiho grins at her, "And Kumiho works but between you and I Kimmy works too."

Lyla has a pretty good idea where they're going- the School of Infinite Space is found out by the engines, not too far from the hangars.  From their current location it's not too far away.

"Hey, we're headed for the research labs, right?"  Kimmy says as they get into one of the long lift tubes, "I've not been there before."

"Really? I had a hunch and a feeling that I got some support from over there but somehow didn't think I was such a big deal. I appreciate it," a loght blush covers her ears. "Though that also explains all the ridiculous stunts you people do at your own expense. I admire that sort of bravery and hope to pay it back with my own actions. To spare more people."

She slides her hands to her jeans pockets while walking.

"Kimmy. Got it. Between us two its Lyla," she returns the favor. "Ayep. Well its about time then. Lets see if we granted entry the easy or the hard way.

"How does that explain the ridiculous stunts?  We're just insane."  She laughs and pats Lyla's back, "Speed demons, the lot of us, and you're our patron saint!"

The School of Infinite Space is a modest office space near the engines, boasting an intricate design that looks like a curved spear.  Inside is a clean and well-ordered lobby with potted plants and a bored young man with glasses manning the reception desk.

"Can I help you?"  He says, looking at the two exalts with hope in his eyes- maybe, just maybe, they've come to rescue him a few minutes from boredom.

"What I meant with is is that I set a bad example and give you ideas. But hey at least they've been tested first," Lyla grins back at her.

When they enter the lobby a certain sense of dullness and annoy flushes through Lyla. Boy was this going to be fun. Utterly out of a zone she is familiar with she walks up to the reception desk.

"Yes. Im here to see Shun Xiao. Yes, she is probably oh so terribly busy and no, we don't have a listed scheduled meeting," she shoots, waiting for his reaction to see if he actually wakes up.

"Oh, good," He perks up a bit and desperately clutches for coffee, "She's actually on office hours.  May I ask what this is about?"  He says, picking up a pen and notepad with his other hand, "You don't have to go into specifics, just generalities... nobody likes being blindsided!  Least of all my boss..."

Kumiho looks at the potted plants and sighs.  "All plastic, huh..."

"Ah good. Eh. You can tell her that Ombra Agency has some questions concerning the building of the temporary hangar," she replays. "She will have to do with that. I'll get into details myself."

"That's more than enough, thanks."  He says as he starts typing away at his computer, "Alright, would you like any water?"  He gestures at a water tank- a fancy-looking cooler with cucumber slices in it.  Kumiho certainly makes no move towards the stuff.

And, almost immediately, he perks up. "Oh.  Hey.  She says to come on." He stands up, "Please follow me."

They're led through an attractive, clean office environment.  There are cubicles, yes, but the place is well-furnished, there's an actual fishpond near one section of the floor, and they can smell a cafeteria down one of the side halls.  It smells like actual food and not reconstituted protein and Lyla can practically hear Kumiho's stomach groan but they move on.

Shun Xiao's office- such as it is- is the size of a small apartment.  The only furnishings are a stool, a hanging holographic user interface, a huge whiteboard, some ancient-looking Chinese landscapes, and a fountain / rock pond that burbles pleasantly.  The whiteboard is covered with mathematical formulae and cute little doodles.  The office is also cooler than most of the rest of the Last Refuge.

The woman herself is dressed in form-fitting black clothing and wearing a furred overcoat.  She's a couple of centimeters taller than Lyla, but that might just be because of her high heels.  Her brown eyes spark green as she looks between the two.

"Reggie, back to the desk," She orders her receptionist.  Once he closes the door she walks forward and extends her hand, "Ms. Blue Fox.  Ms. Pak.  It's a pleasure to meet both of you."

"No thanks," she declines the water, and is glad when they almost immediately proceed.

The differently decorated cubicle area is somehow soothing and catches Lyla by surprise. Its not as unnerving as she imagined. How nice. She almost asks Kumiho if she is hungry, but they are sped onward so quickly that she really has no time. Later then.

Its no surprise that the office follows the same style, reminding Lyla about Shun Xiao's obviously Chinese-heritage. Eh, there is still something in the atmosphere that grinds Lyla's gears.

"Nice to meet you too, Shun Xiao. I'm glad you could meet us with such a short notice," she extends a hand and gives her a handshake, maybe measuring up the infernal a bit.

"Please call me Shun.  I've reversed the natural order to make things a bit easier on my Western comrades."  She smiles at the two, "You came during office hours, and things have been awfully busy today.  Plus I've been in a chat with Command and the Ilmorijo for what must have been hours.  Honestly, your presence is somewhat of a relief.  Now.  How can I help you?  And what should I call you, Ms. Blue Fox?"

"Shun it is. Blue Fox will do, I'm not much for titles," she lets out a short chuckle."To that I can relate. Discussed about the current situation or something else? I actually came here to ask about the temporary hangar comission you gave before shit actually hit the fan. Or so I heard. Do elaborate."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:48, Wed 21 Nov 2018.

"Oh.  Everything today has been about my exploding torpedo.  Well, not really MY exploding torpedo.  I warned the idiots about how to properly test it and I assume they failed.  My experiments may not always work- explosively so- but they shouldn't have caused THAT much trouble, otherwise I'd have requested a test outside of the Last Refuge."  She sniffs, obviously offended by their fuckups.  "I can answer the temporary hangar commission.  It's a point of weakness.  Our hangars are- hmm-"

She moves to the whiteboard and starts wiping it down.  She rapidly draws a sketch of the Last Refuge, a rather good one given the time she's taking to do so.

"The Hangar level's actually a series of hangars but they're meant to be able to be detached from the Last Refuge in case of any problems like my torpedo, or an Abyssal incursion, or what have you.  I understand Core's logic and appreciate it, but it also means that they could cripple some of our capabilities with a powerful enough stroke.  Or, in this case, an accident.  Before the torpedo began testing I put forth a request to Core and the Infrastructure Committee to build two ancillary hangars, just outside of the normal Hangar deck."

She draws each of the spots.

"They'd be large enough for just one squadron each, loaded with minimal armaments, and would be closed 85-90% of the time.  If you imagine the ship as a castle, the Hangar would be the gate, but these would be the posterns.  If the Hangar goes- which it did!- these would still provide sallying capabilities for at least a skeleton force of fighters, hopefully Exalted ones."

She patiently listens her explanation, not interrupting, even giving an approving nod at the end.

"I see. That all makes sense. Its good to distribute our forces," she nods, folding her arms on her chest."After all the rant and toil you've been through, I hate to say it, but I am also curious about the torpedo. Since unfortunate incidents seem to surround it. I guess you haven't had a chance to exam it to see exactly what went wrong?"

She regards the white board. Shun Xiao, being one of the sharpest women on board, Lyla knew she'd catch up pretty quickly on what was going on.

"Who knew about the testing? Who knew about the hangar? Who could know that the explosion caused by the torpedo combined with the venting pumps disabled would lead to massacre?"

"It was using a wide variety of experimental parts.  You're well aware of our Shieldpiercer torpedoes?"

"Yeah, they're alright..."  Kumiho says, "We don't put them on our interceptors, though.  Too heavy.  We've got the RBCs for light anti-shield work."  Radon Beam Cannons, good at penetrating enemy Essence shields.

"Yes, well.  Investigation into the Void Avatar Prana Shield of the Buchenwald has shown that our Shieldpiercers and RBCs don't even INTERACT with the field.  I'd say it's an entropic field but that's like saying a mite is a hornet nest.  The fact is, Ms. Blue Fox, I helped build this torpedo from so many different parts there's quite a few things that could have gone wrong.  It's a true camel, an animal by committee, eight different schools involved in the hopes of making a flagship-busting torpedo so intricate it can only be fired by a cruiser.  There were hundreds of people involved.  Hundreds of failure points.  I even forced them to build in a series of deadman switches to keep it from doing what it did.  But something tells me they were disabled."

She stares Lyla down,  "Sabotaging the vent pumps would keep the fire burning, kill a lot of people.  It's ingenious but horrific.  But I fail to see the connection with the ancillary hangars."

Lyla is not one to back down from any glaring, instead she stares her down.

"Just Blue Fox, no need for the miss part," she begins. "So first of all, we have this castle and its gates blown to bits by your torpedo, crippling the said hangars and killing people because someone turned off the venting. Luckily you managed to prepare for this and build an exit for us to get out from, just incase something would go wrong with a project of which hundreds of people knew about. Great plan all along. Well, imagine my face if also someone was aiming to cripple the said secondary hangar by sabotaging the planes set there. Which happens to be the case. Now imagine that place also exploding up. You have got a backup for that?"

She brushes her hair back and aside from her face.

"So yes. I'm very interested in knowing more details as to how public these projects of yours are, because depending on that you are either going to help me or hinder me. To make it the first option, I'd be glad to see if you have any notes, tapes etc. concerning the testing of the torpedo just before it exploded."

"The ships have been sabotaged."  She repeats slowly, to make sure she gets it, "And you suspect me in helping set it up."

She folds her arms in front of her.  Her face has turned from neutral intensity to growing, obvious anger.

"The back up is that the secondary hangars don't have much present in terms of volatile substances.  If it blows up, the most it'll do is just destroy that secondary hangar and wouldn't be able to spread from there.  You want notes on the testing?  Then you're going to have to ask someone else because if I was there running the test I'd have personally kept it from exploding, one way or another."

"Pfeh. You read too much into it. I don't suspect you doing it or ochestrating it. If I'd think so, I wouldn't have bothered to ask with words, and I probably wouldn't be here in the first place asking about it because you'd probably have done better job at hiding your part in it. But you still might know this certain individual by chance," she blatantly ignores her anger with a calm tone. "Or have the technology at hand to make it plausible for them to practically appear out of thin air."

"So I guess that means you won't be much help in that case," she sighs.

The scientist immediately calms down.

"Appear out of thin air?  No, no technology for that, but there are charms.  Some Gods and Demons know them.  Also Eclipses can learn the charm,"  She explains, "And Eclipse-like Infernals and Abyssals.  Do you have a picture of the individual.  Have you tried running the picture through Core's database."

She ticks off her fingers, "I can give you the names of the top five testers, and their emails, but at least one of them is now dead.  I can also give you the schematic and the top 5 ways that torpedo would've exploded the way it did."

There is a slight smirk on Lylas face, when Shuns anger fades away and the scientist in her steps forward. She pulls out her pad and shows her the said picture.

"Haven't ran it through a database, since I haven't had access to a bit faster interface, than this. But I guess you have computers for that, so lets do that. Though they are awfully generic in their appearance."

She nods.

"I do hope its not an Abyssal charm. Then again given what they are doing, it'd be bad if it turned out to be an Eclipse. As far as I know of this skill level of theirs, they can also pass wards like they weren't there," she sighs. "But yes. I'd like their names and emails. And schematics and your top 5. There's never too much information...hmh.."

Hales had already visited two of the places Lyla had coordinates of from Core. So most likely that would apply to the rest of places as well. Questions began to rise in her mind as to where she/he would appear next.

"Just saying this but..if you first sabotaged the hangars and then the extra hangars, what place would you target next?"
This message was last edited by the player at 10:26, Thu 29 Nov 2018.

"I don't recognize the individual," She says as she takes the pad.  With a flick of the hand she makes a copy of it, sending it to her holographic display.  Then she hands back the PDA.  "Wards aren't difficult to bypass if you're an Exalt.  There are wards for humans, demons, gods, and elementals but none for Exalts.  Hmm.  Forwarding you their names now."

The names pop up on Lyla's PDA:
Hiilii Johnson [PRESUMED DECEASED]
Moronaka Iito, the Marquis of Boundaries
Kevin Brown
Cinder Moss, Northern Flame Court
Gort

"Five ways it could've gone wrong.  The first:  Cage Failure.  When we tested it was supposed to be surrounded by nested essence cages.  Any sort of failure should've been adequately contained- they're designed to be strong, but with a specific weakness on different sides of the cage, effectively making a sort of spiral that should redirect and disperse the blast.  If a cage failed in the wrong place, it would've focused the blast instead of dispersed it.

Second:  The warhead primer.  There's a few different recipes we wanted to try and the current one was especially- excessively- incendiary.  I warned that it was wasting too much energy on fire, but there's a school of thought that high amounts of fire essence can be used to occupy the VAP shield's 'time'.

Third: Engine failure.  Torpedoes aren't just launched dumbfire, they have an engine.  The engine we used was based on an Icarus-class fighter, but a lot of adjustments had to be added, including ancillary engines and sidethrusters for course correction.  If the engine overloaded it could've set off the warhead early.

Fourth:  The essence cycler.  The torpedo's warhead is positively charged with mostly Infernal energy, thanks to me, but we also threw in some alternative sources from elementals.  We've not had any Lunars or Solars contribute... yet.  The problem with that is if it got stuck in the wrong kind of loop the essence motonics could become unbalanced, thus supercharging the warhead.

Last:  There were a ton of moving parts on that torpedo.  Any one of them could've broken and caused a chain reaction.  Overcomplication is sometimes necessary to get the results you want, but it also causes a lot of results you don't need."


She takes a deep breath.

"If I were to sabotage anything else?  If I could get away with all of that?  I'd kill the Neomah.  Cut their habitats from the ceiling of the Upperdecks."

"I guess it would've been concerning if you'd recognize them. Good. Just run her through the Core data, and we'll see if something pops up. Out of the five, which requires the most knowledge about engineering and which the least?"

She moves to regard the enlarged photo of assumed "Hales".

"Hiilii Johnson, Presumed deceased in the explosion? Hm. Our suspect already tried to kill one of his or her hired help, so perhaps this one had the same fate. Any reason to suspect their loyalty?"

Then she turns to her PDA to compare the coordinates given to her, and the location of the Neomah to crossreference these. Just in case she immediately also sends Sonya a message warning her to keep an eye out on their habitat.

"I'm assuming she's dead because she would've been located just outside the cages.  It would've been her job to make sure they worked properly, since she designed them.  It's possible she's alive, absolutely, but the chances are minute."

The Neomah habitats are nowhere near the coordinates listed.  In fact they're some distance away, possibly the farthest away they could be from Hales' potential activity.

"Gort's the best engineer of us.  He's a rare earth elemental, he helped design iPhones before the fall.  Moronaka Iito was the most theoretical, he was a god that specialized in extremely high concept physics.  As far as loyalty goes?  I'm unsure.  I don't like loyalty crusades.  But they were all very driven and, in their own way, loyal to their craft."

Kumiho looks increasingly lost, but stands next to Lyla looking at the Solar's PDA.

"The fact of the matter is that if they wanted to damage the Last Refuge, any one of them could've engineered it at the last moment to do far more damage than it did.  We're talking an AP blast that could've hit the Reactor or Core."

Lyla nods in return to Shuns commentary.

"Thought as much. It'd all be awfully sloppy for someone who is that smart to do it the way it has happened. Blah. Well lets see about that search if there would be something more concrete," she glances at Kumiho to give a small passing smile as a reassurance, its not like she had any better idea of the situation either.

Then she runs Hales image through the database.

The scientist has already begun work putting them through her database, but Lyla has her own with Ombra.

Both of them wait for a few minutes as the computer churns.  Eventually one pops out.  It's an old file, from the original census taken while the Last Refuge was taking off from Earth.

M. HALES
AGE:  8
NUMBER:  6,045,039
PICKUP LOCATION:  VATICAN CITY
NOTES:
-NO FIRST NAME GIVEN
-CONFIRMED EXPOSURE TO F!GOD:BLOODYHAND
-SEVERE PSYCHIATRIC TRAUMA (PTSD) RECOMMEND MONITOR PROGRAM TO SERENITY
-FIRST LODGING:  DECK 5921.56A5.490

"F!God?  I don't know what that is.  But I do know Bloody Hands are gods of murder."  Shun says with confusion.

It's the only record that pops up on either account.  The Initial Census Files are more or less inviolable, only editable by Core himself.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:43, Tue 04 Dec 2018.

Lyla looks at the record, staying silent for a moment. She tilts her head to the side and then to the other side. Then she records the info on her PDA and does a search on Bloody hands.

"How delightful," she notes her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Bloody hands? Oh the things we took along on this tincan...Well now we have a location of sorts. And it'd seem I need to catch up on Serenity. Have either of you been in contact with the Bloody Hands, any personal exerience?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:19, Wed 05 Dec 2018.

"Can't murder without someone being alive, I guess... nope, I haven't."

"I haven't either.  I only know what they are from reputation.  I thought there were only a few on the Last Refuge.  The census file, though, implies this happened before she escaped Earth..."

"Which raises questions as to why she was brought onboard," Lyla takes out her comms.

Then she takes a moment to ponder whether to bother Serenity or Core. Soon enough she opts to call Serenity to see if they pick up.

Serenity picks up on the third call.

"Hey Lyla."  Serenity isn't exactly on a first-name basis with her, but then again, Serenity believes she's on a first-name basis with everyone.  "I'm a bit busy right now but I'm assuming this isn't a social call."

"Hi Serenity. Nope. Hales, picked up from Vatican, the name say anything to you?" she gets directly to the point.

"Not a thing." She responds, "Let me check the census." There's a pause, "... Let me check the Loom." Another pause, "OK, I've got the information up on her.  What little there is.  It's all out of whack.  What's going on?"

"Just a serie of murder and terrorism. Fire it away what little there is," Lyla notes with an exasperated sigh on Serenitys..well...serenity.

"Since you're calling me I'm betting you've accessed the base census file.  I wish I could help you out more on this."  Serenity answers with infuriating calm, "I didn't personally interview every person, I just helped with the census organization while keeping the other Exalts alive.  We had thousands of census takers.  Hundreds of thousands of godly bureaucrats processing the files.  There was a lot of talk during the first few weeks of developing a mass psychiatric program but logistics just ended up insanely difficult.  We just plain didn't have the time.

As far as the loom goes, Hales probably should've died a long time ago.  Then again, who hasn't?  Taking a look at her file, she encountered a Fallen God and that's NEVER a good thing.  Especially when one of those is a Bloody Hand.  What I'm telling you here is basically a state secret, something you've not had to deal with, because it was Endings' job for a long time.  The Fallen Gods switched sides during the last couple months of Ragnarok.  A lot of them were gods of death and murder.  We're always paranoid that one or two are on the Last Refuge but we think most were left behind on Earth."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:29, Sat 08 Dec 2018.

"Thanks for picking up the phone by the way. This is just what I needed to know to make sense of this all," Lyla notes while idly walking away from Shun and Kumiho to get more privacy while talking...though she half expects that the whole place is bugged and rigged, since you never know what an infernal might be up to.

"So. This is out of my turf and perhaps a bit rude to say, but I feel its very much related to this. The E I met is gone now, hm? Or at least assumed so, since that is the next case I have to look into, if it doesn't mix with this one. You have a new candidate yet..Because I feel like I might've just stumbled into one. Doesn't exaltation ruin the Loom on their part? Would explain why you don't know more than that, and why nobody knows anything about them. Also the psychiatric trauma combined to the abilities would explain why Hales is wrecking havoc, and well ending things in their own way."

She ponders a moment about the things that she just announced. It might be a ridiculous theory but at least it was something.

"I'm currently tracking her, if you didn't guess already. She does though have a slight head start. But only a slight."

"Yes, he's gone." She says somberly, "We have a candidate, yes, but it's not Hales.  And she's not Exalted yet.  Hold on, let me check the Loom."

She takes a look.

"UHhhhhhhhhhhhh.  This is... this is really, really interesting.  So, maybe, just maybe, you're right here.  If you think about the Loom as more than a metaphor, Hales ended in a giant snarl quite a few years ago.  But there's one little thread that wrapped around... she must've Exalted soon after the last Endings died..."

Lyla lets out a long sigh. She would've rather been wrong than to connect the dots right.

"Might be a coincidence or his death and Hales new title might be the result of someone engineering it. The possibility reads on the Loom so it can be used if you know what to look for. Grreat. So, anything else you can see of Hales over there? I have some locations to look through but pinpointing her would make it easier. I'll relay to you her previous locations."

She sends the coordinates of the temporary hangar, vents and the missile to Serenity.

She mutters, "If she DID do this, she's getting help.  Someone's cheating,"  She says to Lyla, "She shouldn't be able to manipulate the Loom.  Someone is giving her information on fatelines, teaching her some advanced travel charms, and knowing how to misdirect us.  We can't assume this isn't enemy action."

After a bit of hemming and hawing,

"That tells me a bit, but not a lot.  If she's learning how to sidestep a lot of problems and set up things in advance like this, her previous locations are not going to help figure out her future ones."

"I wish they'd play fair. But if they did, then they'd be caught."

Lyla sighs yet again, trying not to grind her teeth too much.

"It'd help me find her if I had an idea what her agenda was. Other than seemingly cause havoc and kill people and cripple as many functions that we have. Currently my only way is forward to some possible locations."

"We can't assume an enemy will play fair, ever.  But no, she's a cipher.  If I dig anything up I'll tell you.  The big problem is that typically Endings is supposed to do this work.  But she's Endings, I think, so we don't have the toolset.

If I may make a suggestion... do you have any way to communicate with her?  I don't know the whole story over here, how you're aware of any of this, or anything that you've been doing."

Lyl ignores Serenitys patronizing, even though it slightly irks her.

"Im all open for suggestions currently. As far as I know I dont have a way to communicate with her, the only person who remembers meeting her was the one who was contacted, not the other way around," she falls silent for a moment."Michael gave me this mission to investigate certain anomalies. I stumbled to her through footage and a witness statement."

"Weird that Core didn't tell us... but he always has good reasons."  She says, "I think we'd better stop talking about it.  The more I know about it the worse it'll probably be.  If she can access the Loom, then anything I do might tip her off.  Can't help any more, Lyla.  Good luck."  She hangs up.

Shun Xiao and Kumiho have been staring at each other for a while, sizing each other up.  Not exactly hostilely but with a guarded wariness.  Kumiho seems intent on getting in between the Infernal and Lyla, making sure her conversation is harder to track.

"This is enough as it is. Thanks for all. Talk to you later."

She hangs up and turns back to Shun Xiao and Kumiho. Positively surprised by Kumihos assistance, she is happy that she took her along. It was so much nicer than doing this all alone.

"Not a word of this all gets out or anywhere," she points at Shun Xiao. "None. And you won't search this on your own either. Wipe it all out from your system and forget it. Believe me, its better so, and I'll be the least of your worries should you do otherwise than instructed."

Then she slightly relaxes.

"That being said. I appreciate the help I got from you."

Shun Xiao flicks her hand and rotates the holodisplay to face Lyla.  Then she points at a few buttons, 'CLEAR HISTORY', and presses 'OKAY'.

"Please do not forget that I also have a stake in this now,"  Shun Xiao tells her, "And I am VERY VERY upset about all of this, but I will not investigate without your consent out of personal professional respect.  In return I'd greatly appreciate anything you can tell me about it later.  I lost a lot of time on this project, and we lost a lot of people and materials.  I want to know what went wrong and how to stop this in the future."

She snaps her fingers once, more a gesture of unrestrained frustration than a sort of emphasis directed at Lyla.

"Do tell everyone else later that Shun Xiao does what's best for the Last Refuge."

"Thank you. Yes, I'll fill you in later, its only reasonable. I'd have done it even without you using elaborate language to ask for it. Its called being human, and working for the common good. I'm glad you haven't forgotten it yet."

She offers a hand to her, partially not expecting her to shake it. But if she does, she gives a firm grip back. If she doesn't, she just offers a nod before excusing herself.

"Talk to you later. Coming along, Kumiho?"

Shun's face clouds over, but she simply bows to Lyla instead.

Kumiho hurries out, a cringe finally coming out as soon as they step outside the office.  "Ouch, Lyla.  Ouch.  That was a serious culture clash there... I'd be careful interacting with her in the future.  I'm not Chinese but I've got a good idea what was going through her head just now."

Lyla digs her pockets, while a tad too hurriedly and briskly aims out of the building.

"Yeah...Guessed as much. It didn't go smoothly. Could've gone worse, could've gone better," she breathes a sigh og relief when finding the metallic cigarette case."Something in it all ticked me off. Sorry you had to see that. It wasn't anything personal to her but I guess it is now.

She lights a cigarette, taking a deep breather before exhaling. She keeps the break in an effort to push away the topic on how things went with Shun. It mightve been Shuns arrogance, her office or the overall feeling that had caused Lyla to snap. The uncomfortable feeling was still lingering there.

"I got some more intel. But. If you want to continue your day like nothing would've happened, this is the spot. It might get even more troublesome later on when I tell you more."

"Hey.  My ship's getting taken apart.  Who knows where Battles and Lucifer are.  All of my old squadmates are dead.  I'm yours for the night." She gives Lyla a big smile, "Unless you don't want me around, then I'll go fuck off somewhere else, huh?  Your call.  I'm along for the ride otherwise."

Lyla gives her a half-smile back, accompanied by an escaped chuckle, probably due to her "all night"-comment no doubt. She found Kumihos company a very refreshing change.

"Daniel is probably somewhere moping, or training, or working as always. Why, would you want to hang out with him?" Her tone of voice if rather curious. "Other than that, your company is most welcome. Maybe I might be useful and you'd end up learning something. Though I have to say this case is proving to be a tough one to chew and swallow, and I'm not really sure what to do next."


She flips her cigarette case back into her pocket, and wraps her scarf around her neck a bit tighter, while the smoke dances around her.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:38, Fri 21 Dec 2018.

"Probably because I can learn something from anyone," Kumiho explains to her, "I'll hang around anyone I think is awesome.  All the better to help the Living, right?  Plus it helps if they're cute." She gives Lyla a saucy wink.

"Well, I mean... I'm not a tracker.  But it looks like they have all the initiative.  So that means we have to lay bait?"

"I was going to say its just professional interest then but..cute and awesome people? Technically there isn't anyone you wouldn't hang out with," She teases and gives an amused shake of her head to her wink.

She stops in her tracks with her suggestion, then gives the bridge of her nose a pinch.

"I prefer tracking. So no wonder I didn't think of that. Or then its the hectic feeling of today that was getting to me. Good thinking. Now to invent what she'd want. Other than death. So specifically who'd they want dead. She had one target in mind, but I already saved his ass, so he is not of use."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:08, Sat 22 Dec 2018.

"Hey now, SOME of you Exalts are plain.  But you know who I'd like to spend more time with?  Battles.  Mm mm."  She winks at Lyla, but then listens.

"So... wouldn't that be you, then?  Since you know who they are?"