"I can contact him immediately if you'd like. But yes, that'd someone you could count on and who'd be ready to lead. He was the first to contact me, Sol excluded, after my exaltation. Without his guidance I wouldn't be here," she nods burying her chin to her scarf and closing her eyes, mainly because she didn't know what to respond to that arched brow of his.

"I was without any rest from the early age of four to being over twenty. I learned of its importance the hard way and by force after my career was destroyed," she does her best to not sound bitter about it, like it wouldnt bother her anymore. "But then again sixteen years doesn't sound like much in the ears of someone who is practically immortal."

She smiles a tad, brushing her hair back, while letting her fingers lightly caress the back of his hand.

"Does anyone else know of your decision? Have you consulted, lets say, Battles? Or was this case so urgent and I just happened to be conveniently around?"

"Sixteen years is an instant.  I was born in an abyss of time.  But don't let that fool you.  A day can be an abyss, a night can be an instant." He tells her, his other hand falling atop her own once she starts caressing his hand.  He continues to type with two others.  "I brought you here for two reasons.  The first is because I trust your judgment.  If I talked to Battles, he'd have tried to organize a meeting between myself and Lucifer and Brahe, attempted to convince me to hold my position, any sort of thing- when I know what can and must be done, and know there isn't the time for it."

He continues to stare straight ahead, "The second reason, of course, is because I enjoy your company and this is a trying time."

"A meeting between you, Battles, Daniel and Brahe would've been a cherry on top of this all," she chuckles sarcastically. "When people make up their mind, I see it as unnecessary to try to force them to do otherwise. Ending up doing otherwise is more than often just pleasing the other people while giving up on things you'd like for yourself."

No matter how she tries to hide her face into her scarf the redness flushes all over to her ears. Suddenly she feels an odd mix of being both hot and cold at the same time.

"The feeling's mutual...It's effortless..talking with you. It's much better to share these times."

She takes a peek at him, a small warm smile decorating her lips.

"To be fair, it's not like I particularly want to do this."  He gestures at the computer as he types and grabs hold of her hand, "But it's necessary after what happened today."

He finally turns to look at her, staring at her.  His eyes are sad steel.  "It's good to enjoy each other's company.  But I'm not sure that now is the best time.  And I'm not sure that any of it is fair to you.  I can't leave the Enterprise.  And an association with me may reflect poorly on you, though I know you couldn't give a damn about what most of the politicians think."

Lyla waves a dismissive hand.

"Work is work. I'm lucky cause I already did my share of work. No need to apologize."

When he takes a hold of her hand, she is forced to focus her attention to him, raising her brows.

"whatever you wish to call this, it is far better than the other option, which is that I'd be in my broom closet moping over the deaths of those in battle and how incompetent I was, lacking in speed," she faces him with a determined look, laying her own other hand on his two. "Politicians should know about something's existence before making their mind about it. And you are right, I don't give a damn. In all fairness, if anything goes wrong, you are the one stuck thinking about it for an eternity, and that is somethin I don't want to happen.."

"..BUT.." She emphasizes. "I never say no before at least trying, especially when the cost is something I'm ready to pay for."

She turns her general direction more to him, tilting her head to the side.

"Broom closet?  I'd rather hope your quarters aren't that small."  He answers, "A pre-Exodite should be given one of the larger, better suites.  I apologize. on behalf of my crew.

Yes.  I'd be in the same condition, I think.  It's not easy to send people out, knowing most won't make it back alive.  It's a reason why I think you shouldn't try to become an admiral.  If you think this badly about them when you were just following orders- how bad would you feel if you made the orders in the first place?"

He looks sad, dark.  Like the light has left him.  But he finally nods, eyes catching hers.

"I'm sorry for this.  I really am.  But I'm much better at this game than you are.  I have an unfair advantage."

He puts a third hand atop her second.  VICTORY!

"It's not your crews fault. I gave up the suite, I don't need that much space alone. Yes, I never said I'd be the best candidate to be an admiral, I value my freedom of choice too much."

A mix of being first concerned then baffled covers her face with the sudden jesting thrown at her. It's like she'd suddenly ran out on witty responses, so she stretches her foot on top of the pile of hands.

"It's not cheating if it's not forbidden."

"Still beating you,"  He says as he brings his other hand atop her foot, "Well, you shouldn't have done that.  We need you in tip-top shape.  Your well-being is of primary concern for the fleet:  mental, physical, spiritual."

He gives her the smallest smile- just a bit of his lips curving upwards, the only one she's ever seen from him.  It looks alien on him.

"Honestly, I should've known where your room was in the first place.  I should shoulder that blame.   Serenity is always harping about Exalted Morale and I usually tend to nod off when she goes into a rant."

She chuckles, softly and lightly. There is a moment where she seems to actually consider stretching her other foot to the same pile. She seems deeply concerned when the idea still feels very bad and she does not follow it through...immediately.

"I was counting on you busying your extra hands with work. Though I'm delighted to be wrong."

Lyla smirks and stretches her second leg on top of the ridiculous pile, struggling to remain balance.

"My morale is easily boosted by other means than how fancy my room is. HA, got you!" She celebrates her very quickly fading victory, when losing balance and toppling to the side, forced to release her feet and hands.

"Hn."

He seems flummoxed at first, but she quickly starts to lose balance.  He catches her- one hand grabbing her waist, another grabbing her shoulder, and doesn't strain at all as he keeps her suspended in the air.

"I hope that was effective in boosting your morale." He states, raising her back to his desk and plopping her back down on it, closer to his computer this time.  "As cathartic as continuing this little game would be, I really do have to finish these reports.  I apologize for being a bit of a bore."

"I'm not here to be entertained or for you to babysit," she smiles equally surprised by his strength.

She crosses her legs when being plopped back down, turning to gaze into the distance.

"If you have time after that even for a minute, it's more than alright. No harm taken if you'd rather work without me bothering though," she unwraps her scarf, her fingers not so cold anymore. "also I'm sorry to be such a mess in your well organized room."

"You're fine where you are," Five Days Darkness tells her, "And you're not making a mess, nor is this room organized.  Having nothing doesn't make you an organized person."

He starts pecking away at the keyboard, brow furrowed. "My- let's call him brother- wasn't an organized person either.  I've some memories of him as he was.  Sol Invictus was at best scatterbrained, as can be expected from a being made up of all of humanity's subconscious.  What was he like when you met him?"

"Well my flat in Vegas was in a pretty similar shape with the difference that there are no clothes spread around," she shrugs dumping her scarf on the floor next to the table as if fixing the situation.

"hmh."

"What was he like? Tall, handsome.. and warm above everything else. I met him while I was going to go and beat up the rest of the Yakuza with my bare fists just to get my friend back. I had no idea I was going up against anything supernatural," Lyla begins to pull her piloting gloves off, one finger at a time by natural habit. "I really wasn't sure what to think at the time, so I just followed him when he grabbed me by the arm and wanted to talk. Somehow you forget to ask questions when time stops around you. Yeah, you could also kind of tell that he wasn't used to looking at things through a basic humans point of view. Because he took our discussion to a nearby strip joint and sat me on his lap, and didn't really seemed phased by it...I mean sure, I'm not much compared to the otherwordly beauties I've come across on Last Refuge, but it's not a generic thing to do to a person. I think he thought I'd feel at home," a partial amused grin decorates her face. "Not to mention that my exaltation was handed to me like it'd be my lifetime's biggest tip, which it ofcourse was."

She dumps her other glove to the same pile with her scarf, letting out a little chuckle.

"I've never spoken of this to anyone. It's better for people to think we exalted valiantly. People still think highly of Sol and I don't want to ruin it for them, even if I consider it comforting for him to having been so human."

Five Days Darkness winces at the thought.  "Remember he was built out of humanity's subconscious.  That did not necessarily make him a particularly polite or observant person." He looks over at her as she takes off her gloves, "Thank you, I do appreciate that.  Eventually I'm sure the histories will get things right, even if some of the more unsavory things will be glossed over."

He finishes the first section of the report, and from her perch Lyla can see it's actually fairly descriptive of the battle.  It includes a list of people- casualties.

"If he'd known that the connotations were negative, he'd have been mortified.  I don't think you should be embarrassed, though.  Taking on gangsters bare-handed?  That's as valiant as it gets."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, it was not negative or impolite. More or less only baffling when I've been thinking it through later. It's not like I was forced to take a seat. I think my exaltation suit that time of my life rather well...at the least it's not something to forget," Lyla bites the second gloves fingertips thoughtfully before tugging it off.

"Right you are, that part is valiant when taken out of context. Before that moment I had first danced to their boss, then beaten him to a pulp with a coatrack, set the strip club on fire and escaped to my apartment... Most of this time wearing nothing at all, and that is the part that makes my story sound more like a comedy than exaltation. Especially when you compare it Daniel's zombie bears."

She peers to the document, curiously reading the events from another point of view. It does give her a better insight to what really happened.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 23:35, Mon 31 Oct 2016.

"It could be worse,"  He remarks as a hand reaches over and grabs Lyla's scarf, draping it across his neck and shoulders.  "You could've Exalted after drafting a particularly good- or bad- poem.  Both have happened, if you'd believe the records."

The document is quite well-drafted and unflinchingly critical of the battle plan, the pilots, and himself.  It includes statistics, such as the number of shots the Enterprise took, the number of mortal deaths, an assessment of Kumiho.  Then there are other assessments.  She can see a few, including her own...

Lyla:  Indispensable asset.

But most importantly it talks about the role of mortals, which is the latest he's typed up-

"Necessary in short and long term.  Assessments must be made about their deployment.  This could be an attempt to break our will and morale and fail to send mortals into battle.  This could be part of a larger strategy to reduce our defense in depth."

He grunts and cracks a few knuckles, "One thing I won't miss being an admiral- the reports.  I feel like I spend more time on reports than I do anything else.  It's as if the real battle is being waged in the depths of our bureaucracy, Abyssal agents sneaking around and making my life more and more difficult with a new metric to submit for analysis."

Lyla doesn't really try to hide the fact that she was reading the document. It's interesting to see everything in numbers. Ofcourse they might go them through in the debfriefing, but she was not particularly keen on those meetings. Usually everybody where too tired and too exhausted and too opinionated in those.

"If you advertise me more, I'm sure that they'll soon deem me completely irreplacable, and place a chain and a ball around my ankle. But still..thanks."

There is a whiff of smoke and vanilla in the air, when he picks up her scarf.

"Yeah, sometimes it feels like the jobs that we do out on the field mean nothing when it comes to the terror that spreads in the official documents, of which most are likely exaggerated by people who weren't even around... I've done my share of tracking those claimed Abyssal Agents, but they never happen to roam around in the Underdecks..." she shrugs, the tone of her voice light. "So, what would you rather do with the time that you spend on writing reports?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:52, Tue 01 Nov 2016.

"Resources are tied down.  Assets are given autonomy.  Core will know what I mean." He answers confidently, "Michael and I used to talk in those last few days.  I respect him and he respects me, but not enough to ignore the facts."

Five Days Darkness saves and sends.  Then he turns to look at Lyla carefully, considering her.

"Rest.  Relax.  Play a game of chess.  Maybe play some sports," He answers her seriously after those pregnant moments, his voice deep.  "All of which I think would be the wrong answers for today.  What do you prefer to do in your spare time?"

There is a shadow of a joke on her face when the question is presented, but she doesn't let it out, discarding the joke. She leans forward, propping her elbow to her knee, and resting her jaw on her palm. Her head is slightly tilted to the right, when she in return lets a moment slide before answering.

"That was fast. The report I mean. And I don't know. I'm not good with keeping spare time. Usually that spare time goes to catching up with people I have neglected. If I have nothing, nothing else to pursue or have had my share of the Underdecks, I go see Jolie, drink and dance, act like nothing weird is going on. She tries to pursuade me to perform everytime I go there," a grin tugs her lips as she shakes her head. "But when I don't do that I read and listen to music. Though as you said none of these would be suitable for today. I couldn't possibly focus on reading...Thus I'm glad you accidentally saved me from the trouble of thinking something to do."

"I sped things up.  Some shorthand,"  He says in reply, "Enough of it, at any rate, that if they want more they can bother me about it in a few more hours."

He pushes back from his desk and leans back in his chair, "Why does Jolie keep asking you to perform?  And how many times has she managed to convince you?  With this fleet being the gossipy hothouse that it is, I'm expecting none.  The mortals are always watching."

He looks at her awkwardly and clears his throat, "Seems we have quite a bit in common.  Besides the performing, of course, I've never been one for crowds.  It's why I've kept the crowds small at briefings."

He holds the position and then stands up, pacing around the desk.

"I think she asks for it because she knows I like it, to a certain degree. Also think about the publicity that it'd bring to her club if I would agree to perform publicly. Behind the scenes and after hours, I've done so twice, but only her present. She also likes to hear ideas for coreographies. Now that I think of it, it sounds awfully seedy, especially as a thing to be told to an admiral, that I spend my freetime in a place such as that or Underdecks, but they just feel safer when it comes to crowds," she smirks, a familiar blush colouring her ears.

"The meetings are hectic as it is, add more people to it and it'd be uncontrollable. Why is that though, why don't you like crowds?" she releases her hands to lean back in order to at least try to look at him when talking.

"Don't worry about that.  I won't be an admiral for much longer, remember?"  He shakes his head, "The reason?  The Sun likes crowds.  The Sun when eclipsed doesn't.  It's part of my very makeup.  I'm not meant to be seen or even looked at.  Like most of the people on the Last Refuge, I'm forced into a role I should not have and would not normally want."

He pauses when he's right behind her.  He looks down at her upturned face.

"I like it when your ears turn red like that.  Though it is a little distracting."

Lyla probably had something to note about role's being shared and chosen, but her tongue is stuck between her teeth as her whole face is flushed with the same shade of red, upon the notion of a blush. She gives an embarrased smile to compromise.

"They are? Distracting from what? I partially wish I could notice it better myself... though It's not like I could stop it by pushing a button."

"Distracting me from everything.  I've yet to consider whether that's a good or bad thing,"  He gives her a small nod, "Since there's a limit to the amount of things that I can do today that would be considered productive, I'll go with the good."

He raises an eyebrow at her.

"So if it existed, I'd rather you didn't push that button.  As I said, I rather like it when you blush.  You didn't strike me as the sort to be easily embarrassed."

"Glad to hear its a good distraction, I can almost thank myself for accidentally forcing you to relax productively."

She momentarily flops down on her elbows.

"I'd leave that button pushing for you to be done, if my blush would bother you. Doubt I could reach it myself," she really doesn't help her own cause. "Ahem. Yeah, I'm definitely not the smoothest social butterfly. I'm left dumbfound when there are things I'd like to say, and they end up coming out the wrong way or most of the time not at all."

She straightens up, forcing to turn her gaze away from him, while resting her shoulders.

"In example right now I'd like to impress you, but it doesn't seem to be happening as far my part is concerned, so I'm embarrassed."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:06, Wed 02 Nov 2016.