2738/Wo-alking Around The City

Wo-alking Around The City
Date of Scene:	05 August 2015
Location:	Boston-666
Synopsis:	Psyber calls Wo to hang out, not wanting to bother the Union with his problems.
Cast of Characters:	253, Wo

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Psyber (253) has posed:
    In a somewhat unheard of turn of events, it had been Psyber who called Wo this time, instead of the other way around. Usually it was her calling ahead for a visit and them receiving her, so this was unusual just for that much. His message had been pretty basic, too:

    'Hey Wo, do you want to take a walk around Boston? I could use the distraction.'

    And that's what led us to where we are, with Psyber keeping his hands in his pockets and waiting in one of the parks located around Boston on the shoreline. He sighs a bit, smoking a cigarette and tapping his foot as he looks out over the waterline.

Wo has posed:
    It really was unusual. Enough so that the carrier hadn't really been certain what to make of it, when the request had been first received. Adding to the wariness some of her Abyssal counterparts had of the surface, and her continued contact with it, this Psyber had now taken the unusual step of inviting the increasingly distant Wo-class into town. The tone seemed different than the diplomatic, or even shore leave, reasonings that had been common. However, as an Abyssal emissary - and more importantly, someone that respects Psyber - she was willing to slice a bit of her time out from her own, sometimes tedious schedules. Middle management can be quite the demand.

    No special arrangements or surprises this time around. The local Coast Guard only receive a singular sonar contact, which soon emerges from the water as Psyber's expected guest for the day, dressed in her usual attire, and hands clutching her staff, as she glides the rest of the way across the water. Not even a trace of a Destroyer or Light Cruiser escort, today. Now that's trust.

    Finally making landfall, her boots comfortably on the ground, she uses this one weird old trick to get some of the sea water out of her cape - glancing back with those luminous, turquoise eyes and grasping it into a gloved hand, before wringing some excess out. She will still drip everywhere around the city, but maybe a bit less with some extra prep work. "You - called, Psy-ber," she wonders, as a torrent spills out, as well as an errant jellyfish plopping out? "...it was, un-expected. But... Had time." After fussing with her cape, something she would have never done just a couple of months ago, she turns to face him and stands even more upright.

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "Mn..." Psyber, who looks distinctly more troubled than he usually does, looks over to the Wo-Class. It wouldn't be hard, even for her, to tell that he's been growing more and more tired. Despite how well he tries to hide it, certain things slip and he shows the actual stress levels he's under. After his fight with Nathan the other day, he can only half-heartedly hide his stress.

    "Thanks for coming out. You're one of the few friends..." And he did just call her a friend without much hesitation, labeling her as something a bit more than just the emissary of her people. He heaves a bit of a sigh and then looks over to her, "It's nothing for business. I just thought you might want to walk around and talk a bit," He notes as he starts to take off at a calm pace.

    "I decided to keep that submarine. I'm gonna find a really good use for your gift," He says seriously, smiling a bit at the Wo-class as he goes, "It was unexpected, but a very good gift."

Wo has posed:
    Surface dwellers are a mystery to most of her kind. A mystery they don't particularly want to solve, though, given the in-built distrust and anger they feel towards them, as tortured souls from the deep that are regularly stirred up by Samar and company. This particular Wo-class, however, at least for some exceptions, has come to set that aside and become familiar with them. Now that she's had a good look at him, without the distraction of her extracting water from her cape, she actually tilts her head to the side, the entire mass of her hat swaying with it, as she repeats her designator, "Wo?" A truly naive puzzlement, and a habit she can't quite break, despite her trying.

    Certainly, she had seen holes in his armor before, but never had she seen Kongou's invincible admiral look quite this visibly worn. This takes her a few moments to process, her eyebrows contorting into what can only be called a trace of worry. Surface people get sick and tired, but she had limited experience. "Psy-ber," she wonders? "Do you need - fuel?" She could have some transports bring it right away! Before she can properly muse on his calling her a friend, though, or fuss over him further, he begins simply walking just as the invitation had said he wanted, and she lets it drop in favor of following closely. "O-kay," she allows, her monotone not really allowing any further worry out. "Walking, I can...do."

    Thankfully, in this part of town, most everyone is likely too busy with their own interests to bother the two of them, and they're no doubt used to the idea of a ghostly pale woman with a metal squid hat. Somehow. Her eyes swivel between a laser focus on Psyber, and alternate distraction with the sights and sounds of this island of relaxation, in the middle of the bustling city. "I am glad...the sub-marine, also," she says with some unusual confidence, given that she had said the U-Boat had no voice yet. "Every boat and, ship - wants to have, that pur-pose." She breaks her eyes away from his smile for a moment, glancing again towards the shoreline, "It is the same...for sur-face dwellers?"

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber lets out a laugh a bit as she asks if he needs fuel, "Naw. I'm fine, fuel-wise. Just tired. Don't tell anyone, but I had an argument with one of my friends the other day over some disagreements," He rubs the back of his head, "Kinda needed to just... talk and hang out with someone uninvolved," He notes, looking over to her. He extends a hand and pats her shoulder a couple times, "So thanks for coming out."

    When they get to walking, he seems to relax a bit more by her presence and the movement through 'his' city, looking around a bit, "People want a purpose, yes. But sometimes that purpose causes them to be in strife with those around them. I think this is similar for ships as well, is it not?"

    "What about you? You have seemed to have a great deal on your mind most times I see you, though you hide it well since your incident with the plane," He notes, hands falling into his pockets as his cigarette is discarded, "If you ever need advice, you can talk to me."

Wo has posed:
    "You can...be friends, even after - fight-ing?" Somehow this thought, which she half-articulates, had never truly sunken in with her. Certainly, with folks like Psyber and even the ship formerly known as Ko-class, she had come to an understanding, but she had never thought that deeply about it. Nonetheless, she gives a soft sound from her throat, in understanding. Certainly, she had had some disagreements, herself, in the not so distant past. Usually with other flagships, since the rank and file basically follow them around. "...I under-stand," she agrees, "It is...be-tween us, then." It seems as though she is keeping a lot of secrets, lately, both for other people and to herself.

    A fact that Psyber has apparently picked up on. While it doesn't quite carry through to the rest of her frame, or the even expression on her face, it does somewhat startle her a bit. "--hmm? Ah..." She recalls the scene she had caused when that happened, and while she had recovered fully, and had even kept the plane afterward, it is still a bit embarassing to remember. "Act-ually, I suppose...there is, some-thing. May-be, in a moment..." Right now, she's more focused on helping Psyber relax than airing her own problems, though her shoulder would have been a bit stiff to the touch, one she didn't seem to mind. Someone else obviously needed the outside air, as well.

    On his other point, she allows her eyes to lapse closed. Owing to all the sensory information a ship has available to them, they scarcely need to 'see' to navigate, really, and her steps continue carrying her forward despite it. It's more to concentrate on putting her thoughts into words, while these surface dweller-like legs do their thing. "Kon-gou and I, want, the same thing. But...how we, achieve it - is diff-erent. And so...we fight." Her eyes open again, pivoting over to the half angel as her eyebrows raise inquisitively, "Like - that? But...I think. Even Kongou, and I, could work to-gether. ...in the right, circum-stances." So all it will take is removing those other factors, and they can be one big happy family again!

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "Yes, that's part of being close friends. Even when you disagree with them, sometimes violently, you can still trust them and remain close to them," Psyber notes, his gaze shifting skyward as he walks along, "I think that's the strength of humanity, or surface dwellers, as a whole. The ability to disagree on so much, but not be at war at all times," He muses, lowering his gaze again.

    "I think you and Kongou would... be an interesting pair, if you ever teamed up," Psyber says aloud, thinking it over, "You're very different, but similar in certain ways too. Like me and Nathan," He ponders aloud, thinking about the very friend he had been fighting with earlier. He eventually lowers his gaze again and looks to Wo, "You seem happy under Samar, but if you ever go shopping for a new Admiral, stop by here first," He notes, tossing her a wink to show he's joking.

    Seems, if nothing else, that his playful nature is slowly returning. He doesn't seem to have much else to say beyond that, though. So he finishes with a simple, "And take y our time if you need to ask me something. Only when you're comfortable."

Wo has posed:
    While Psyber's Boston, and Psyber's America, didn't seem to be war-mongering right this moment, that hasn't seemed to be the case for many Earths in the multiverse. It has been painful to see, in a way. Samar and (most of) the other princesses and demons might delight in conflict, but for the Wo-class and others in her position, it creates a complicated atmosphere. "That is...act-ually it," she allows, her steps somewhat slowing for a moment, before she catches up. "I owe Samar, ev-erything. I would ne-ver, disobey her order. ...but." She can scarcely believe she is saying it, as much like her self-conscious cape wringing earlier, it would have never been an issue only a few months ago.

    "Pur-pose, is what drives - us," she reiterates the point from moments earlier, "But, what is...Samar's pur-pose." There is no question in Wo's mind that Samar cares for her flock, and perhaps on some level believes the things she says, but the longer it has gone on, the more aware she has become, and the more she has had moments like this to think about it, the more cracks would appear. She quickly dismisses it, however, lifting her hat off to let it rest bulkily under one arm, which frees her head to give a light shaking gesture. "Sor-ry, I suppose...that is the kind, of question, I should save - for Samar. Just wor-ried, she will...take it, the wrong way." She gathers her breath afterward. Talking at length on things still can tire her out.

    After that spilling out, she is also eager to return the ball back to Psyber's court, seeming to agree with another tilting of her head, "You were...the first to tru-ly show, me. ...that we could, cooperate, with surface people. May-be, there is a future, for the Abyssal fleet...after our wars." That is a statement that would no doubt chill Samar to the bone, if she were in ear shot. She reaches over to return an earlier gesture, a gloved hand aiming to reach upward and rest on Psyber's shoulder for a moment, "Admiral, or not - you are some-one, to respect. You...have already, made a diff-erence. Psyber."

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "Samar? I don't know what her purpose is. I haven't spent enough time with her to be able to really grasp what she thinks," He comments as he walks along, hands in his pockets, "But I have theories. Judging by Lute, the Ri-Class, and you... by how she used the Ko-Class..." He scowls a bit, "I think her goal isn't to make you understood. I think her goal is to..." He pauses, picking his next words very, very carefully.

    "She wants to keep you from being understood," Psyber notes in a very careful voice tone, "It will prevent you from any substantial understanding if she creates situations in which you are viewed in the most adversarial viewpoint possible." He scowls a bit, "I don't think she counted on my particularly forgiving nature." He finalizes, looking very perplexed by the entire thing, "But... particularly with how she has Lute targetting the Fleet in the name of the Abyssal Navy, I think that's her goal."

    He gives Wo a gentle smile when she puts her hand on his shoulder, "I think you could do some very interesting things after the war," He admits, pondering it, "The oceans, even without the Abyssal Aggression, are dangerous. Sea monsters, pirates, storms. Someone like you could protect a lot of people if you operated just a little differently." He laughs slightly, "Could you imagine it? The Abyssal Navy being the protectors of the ocean?"

Wo has posed:
    It's enough to get Wo's eyebrows shifting again, drawn together worriedly. She had posted it up to Psyber for his response, and an outsider to Abyssal politics - yes, they have them - offers a fresher perspective than the echo chamber of 'the voices'. It might not have been what she wanted to hear, even if it it confirms at least some of the things that have been threading their way into her heart. Once Psyber finishes his appraisal, she is silent for a few moments, which creates just the faintest tinge of tension, before she states simply, "...I - see." After she's back to being full speed, she adds, "Thank you - for being hon-est." It is understandably difficult to have this kind of conversation with her own kind.

    Despite that, it doesn't really cut to the heart of why Samar might be speaking one thing and shuffling her deck for another. It is something the Wo-class will not confront her with, at least not yet, but that will have to remain on her mind when the next set of official orders comes in. One point of emphasis gains her attention, though, "I'm worried - for Lute. He is, loyal and eager, but...to the wrong, ends." That is another of the cracks that had formed, that Wo could plainly see. It was easy to dismiss at first, at having a loyal surface dweller to help, but with how Samar has basically employed him as a bludgeon against the fleet daughters... "He might be, too far gone, though... He is, con-vinced of his ways." She actually emits a subtly pained sigh. Emotion!

    She also doesn't think the prospect is that funny, though it's a question of whether she could return the laugh if she could. She does repeat her class designation, curiously. "Is it - that un-usual?" It is already what she was aiming for, after all. "To pro-tect the peace, of the sea. I can think - of nothing, more noble. If the surface peo-ple, could one day...come to see us, like they do, the fleet daughters. But - for now, we have to sur-vive. And do things, in our way." She glances out to the sea again, halting in her steps as she rests her free hand atop the weathered shank of metal that passes for her staff. "That sub-marine, now yours...was not, sto-len. She was freed, from that kind, of pur-pose. In your hands - she can pro-tect lives, not, take them."

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "I'm always happy to lend my opinion to people who ask for it," He says to her with a nod, keeping his hands into his pockets as he walks, "I can't say the same for her subordinates, however. I get the feeling Darwin just wants to protect you all," Psyber adds with a pointed note, "Savo, I dunno. And I haven't met any others, but you know."

    "If you're worried for Lute, you're the one in the best position to have him stop," Psyber points out as he walks, looking sideways at her, "He doesn't listen to Unionites, and he won't listen to me, because we're all Unionites and he has his own particular narrative to live under. You're in the Confederates, though. He may well listen if you simply tell him to stop," Psyber suggests musingly.

    "And no, it is not amusing itself," Psyber says to her as he responds to her final statement, "But the situation... the idea of the Abyssals moving from the greatest threat on the ocean to the greatest savior is one which carries a sense of what surface dwellers call irony," He then looks over at her.

    "I think..." he pauses, "As you grow as an individual, you seem to be growing as a ship. You feel different to be around, lately." He comments in a tone that suggests it as a compliment, "Some days I wonder what kind of ship you used to be. I would have liked to see her."

Wo has posed:
    "Darwin," she trails off, before giving a slight nod of her head. "...she is - nice." Which is an interesting contrast to her monstrous claw hands. Probably some kind of metaphor there. "Perhaps, I will...speak with her - first. Subtle-ty, deferment - are also, things, I have learned." Useful tools when properly timed. To the notion of confronting Lute about it, even if Psyber is likely correct, her eyebrows once again furrow. "--I will, have a chance, soon. One of, Kon-gou's -- Zuihou. Has asked him, to meet. I will, also go." She takes another deep breath, with a closing of her eyes, and seems to gather herself on both those fronts, "There is - no avoiding, all conflict for now. ...but, his aggression, is a com-plication. I will - do what I can." She really has come a way from being that almost shy second fiddle.

    Nonetheless, Psyber's calling her out on that fact causes her to pause again, and her frame to visibly seize. It is something the voices had noticed, as well, but in the Abyssal fleet, undue attention can be a work hazard, in a sense. Everything is meant to flow together. Samar and her kind's words are absolute, with flagships like the Wo-class being middle managers. "It seems...nothing remains un-changed, Psyber," she says, her voice a bit lower and turning toward him with that otherwise usual, unreadable non-expression. "That is, reason for hope, too." A small bump rises up in her cape, and appears to move to the edge of it, where the fairy that accompanied the plane emerges, her chubby cheeked face popping out to blink at Psyber. In a now-practiced gesture, the carrier places a hand level for the fairy to climb onto.

    "It's still, sca-ry...not knowing, what will happen. If I re-member. But...I think, I am near-ly ready." She seems to be thinking deeply on something, while she gives the flight jacketed fairy a light rub on the head with a finger, before she comes to a decision. Giving a meaningful look up to Psyber, she begins pacing down the short distance to the sea. Leaving already? "...come. And...tell the Coast Guard - to not, be alarmed. I will...show you, some-thing."

Psyber (253) has posed:
    Psyber watches the fairy. Its existence does not overtly surprise him, other than the fact Wo has one. He's used to seeing them, or at least hearin about them, in relation to the other girls. He nods his head to her a few times and then takes out a walkie talkie from his jacket. He puts some generic chatter into it before putting it away.

    He's more interested in following Wo towards the coastline as she walks. He takes a slow breath and then says, "Alright, it should all be prepared. They're confused, but accept you by now as a regular comer and goer," He assures Wo while they go. The last time a ship girl said not to be alarmed and to come with her, she showed him the full-sized Kongou Battleship.

    "And... uncertainty... is part of being a person. It means you're becoming more normal, more... individual," He notes, "I feel it all the time. I don't know if what I am doing is right or wrong, sometimes. It's only when I have people like you who talk about my work positively that I know for certain."

Wo has posed:
    The notion that imperfect beings can exist, and come to regret their decisions, has been the most important discovery for the Wo-class in allowing her campaign against the surface people to settle into a simmer. People can change, and now, she can also change. It isn't easy to put those kinds of things into words for the sake of Psyber, as she strides along, but she is at least able to confide, "It has...not been easy, to trust. We might still, be enemies, some-times. How-ever...you are a pos-itive presence." For both her and the Abyssals that feel similarly to her, and that have taken the opportunity to visit Boston. That's right, even the cute little Abyssal Destroyers. If not for the shelter Psyber's arrangements have provided, it's entirely possibly Hayashimo would still be cruising the seas as an evil whale thing, and Akizuki wouldn't have met her friend.

    The Wo-class cannot forgive those years of neglect yet, and perhaps never will, but she can come to an understanding that it isn't the fault of every surface person. So it's progress, and another thing that Samar will have to reprogram and recondition out of her at some point, no doubt.

    Psyber's guess wouldn't be too far off the mark, it turns out, and his words about her being similar to Kongou earlier have even more weight now. "Under-stood," she says, just at the edge of a deeper drop into the sea than most in the area, "I just don't, want, any trouble." With this, she sets the fairy down on the ground, before she glides out on the surface two-hundred meters or so, which with how effortless it is for their kind does not take long. Gathering her thoughts, and what fractured memories she can draw upon, she sets her hat back atop her head, freeing both hands to clutch her staff.

    What usually seemed like a mere prop gathers a golden glow around it as she stands clutching it, a glow that soon spreads around her, and a similar hue as her eyes take when she's in an engagement. Lifting into the air, the bay's waters begin to ripple with an approaching disturbance, apparently coming from below despite how relatively shallow it must be. Twisted, blackened steel emerges from this turbulant cauldron, at first in pieces, but appearing to weld spontaneosly together at its shattered seams, before Psyber and any other on-looker's eyes. It eventually begins taking on a distinctive, flat-decked shape, even if it's clearly an incomplete and rough hewn rendition. The gigantic mouth that forms at the front, with a fiery furnace look behind it, does not help. Yet if one were to compare the profile, enough detail remains...hmm.

    Regardless, Wo settles down on what became the deck of the craft, in another key different to the Ocean Fit-Out as Psyber would know it. The fairy that had been watching this with a blank stare, that could either be wonder or simple cluelessness, seems to clap her hands - not that those ball-like things could make any appreciable sound. "This is, my memory," the Wo-class would say, over that same radio Psyber had just called in on, with a good deal of static despite the proximity. "...come a-board?"

Psyber (253) has posed:
    "Right. Er... Roger. Coming aboard," He says into the walkie talkie before putting it away again. To say he's surprised by this development is to bean understatement. He thought Wo would simply... get bigger like Ri-Class or Samar had in the past. Instead, Wo seems to wind up right on the mid-point between Kanmasu and Abyssal, generating a larger form based on a ship, but also retaining herself.

    He lifts off from the ground, two feathery black wings sprouting from his back as he flaps his way off towards her. About ten feet above the deck, the wings vanish in a faint swirl of feathers and he finds himself landing with a thud as his boots hit the deck. He looks around a bit and says, "Hm. Interesting. Wo, I think you might be becoming something different than either side."

    "And I think that's not a bad thing." He ponders, rubbing his chin, "It fills me with an interesting sense of hope."

Wo has posed:
    With Psyber securely on deck and with his feet settled, the distinctive sound of anchors being lifted can be heard. HAH, GOT YOU. ...ahem, just a short trip around the Boston area might be nice, and Psyber did need a distraction and some conversation. Nothing puts Wo in the mood for either of those things quite like the sea does, even if they won't move out of sight of Boston, itself, lest they have the Kongou intercept in worry. Given her own condition, she thinks little of his appearing and disappearing wings for the short trip. Maybe all surface people can do that, she wouldn't really know. "Diff-erent," she wonders, sounding somewhat subtly worried, though it's short-lived, as she gives a nod of her head. She steps to the edge of her summoned ship's deck, once again removing her hat to let her hair rustle in the breeze, now that they are under way.

    "I was...never able, to Levia-than. Like other, flag-ships. But... I think, it just didn't, a-gree with me. This...feels better." As opposed to the rampage of a Leviathan, which certainly has its advantages, in this state she can be more selective. She half-turns, and manages a trace of curiosity, mostly in a sound in her throat. "Hmm?" She isn't certain what Psyber could mean, or why this would really matter in the grand scheme of things. The concept of this at least partially breaking what had previously seemed an ironclad (heh) duality is lost on her conscious thought. "...that could be, trouble-some," she interprets. "--I have not, shown many others. Yet." The people of Boston, she figures, also wouldn't be in a hurry to blab about it. Nevermind that there are things like the news media. "But... Yes. ...hope. Maybe, I can, re-member."

    After that, she walks back up to Psyber, and struggles with her face for a moment. Was she trying to smile without using her fingers? It doesn't quite work, but at least the effort is there. She gives a slightly frustrated grunt after a few moments, then moves on, "...let's, en-joy the sea, for now. Can worry - about those, other things, la-ter." And that's really the whole point of the evening, after all.