Scene #7347: The Gracious Ones

Owner	Pose
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	<X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Bercilak chuckles. "Doth there lie a bordel, which, 'pon crossing, one is man-kin no longer?" <X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Selene says, "Oh! Maybe... We're talking human like... A 'person' and not just a physical human, right?" <X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Bercilak says, "Verily." <X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Bercilak says, "The lofty cogitacioun of man-kindli-nes, in the sense immaterial." <X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Liza Grier says, "If you're born human, there's only three ways out." <X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Liza Grier says, "You become a machine, you become a corpse, or you become an animal." The desert planet of Rubi-ka is not all sand and rocks. Thanks to extensive terraforming within a truly massive selectively permeable dome, the habitable areas range, in terms of climate and vegetation, from desert to forest to lush jungle. Your destination today is the west bank of the river Stret, at the northernmost tip, just as its tributaries branch off towards the clan city of Athen. That is, it's your destination, assuming you came to rendezvous with the Vanguard's Ramon Bauer, regarding the recent 'permanent' deaths of two Vanguard officers. If that isn't why you're here, Rubi-ka's habitable regions take up an enormous swath of land; the planet has centuries of history and a culture all its own. With many of its cities boasting not one but two distinct teleportation networks, visitors here for other reasons will not want for sights to see or ways to get there. If you /are/ here for the Gracious Ones, your destination isn't far from the warpgate in Athen--perhaps a mile or so south. It's a cool December day on the banks of the wide, wide river Stret. The water is a dark, navy blue, flowing south all the way to the horizon. The air bears the cries of insects, though not nearly to the extent that it would in warmer months. Alien reeds of some sort cling to fertile silt, and the surface of the river occasionally ripples from the movement of aquatic life below. Scavenger species, like colorful birds of paradise and two different species of noisome rodent (one standing upright, the other so rotund and ball-shaped as to move primarily by rolling) compete for food as would animals on any other planet. Looking north and a little west, the towering grey walls of Old Athen loom, across one of those branching tributaries, situated in a field of sand amidst the husks of crashed warships. West Athen, naturally a little further west, sits on the opposite side of that same tributary, but is difficult to see through the thick patch of forest which surrounds it. To the south, the shore continues, but look southwest and you'll spot another dense forest. Your contact is waiting for you when you arrive. RAMON BAUER carries a futuristic, high-powered yet weather-beaten rifle. The stock is a utilitarian metal frame which likely once bore some kind of synthetic shock-absorbing material. Given that the rifle's finish has been worn down by sand in many a spot, it's likely that either the weather, Ramon himself or a mixture of the two stripped the stock to its current state. Lights dance from the electronic scope of the weapon. A faded maker's mark bears 'OT' as well as 'Athen 22,' both engraved into the weapon's now skeletal stock.
Samhain	Samhain, the giant horrific maintenance worker in a welding mask, is deposited out of a giant photo-frame next to Ramon, having asked in detail about the meetup location. He doesn't care about the man, he just wants info. "Tell me who hunts me and where they are. Any information. Spare no detail." It's tense, not remotely friendly. If Ramon is hesitant about a single detail or seems to be hiding something, Samhain extracts the rest of the knowledge straight from his mind. No games. This is a hunt.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Ramon himself is a man of average height and athletic build. He wears the signature brown duster of the Vanguard, the back bearing a stylized black V over a dull orange sun. Beneath it, there is a mixture of lightweight alloyed armor and treated leathers, offering a balance of mobility and protection. He is absent the usual helmet his fellows wear--his hair is blonde, a buzz cut, his eyes gray--but he's not a soldier. His demeanor, as he waits, is that of a 'problem handler,' someone paid to remove obstructions with precision and tact. Mingled in with that problem-solver air is a sense of unrest. He gives Samhain a nod of acknowledgment. "Hey," says Bauer coolly. A cigarette perched between his lips bounces up and down. Samhain will find that on this subject, Bauer is more than willing to divulge. Perhaps it's personal? "They're called Eumenides. Our friend from the subway says 'they' used to be three separate people until Vergil..." He takes a pull, his brow furrowing. "...combined 'em, somehow. They're his muscle. As for where... they were asking about the Gate. Where to find 'the outsiders.'" He pauses. "That's you." Removing the cigarette from his lips, he gestures with the smoldering thing to the west. "Borealis, neutral city, has a gate. It's about three or four miles west of here, and it's the closest place with a gate. If I were them, and I'd just shot my chance of getting through the one in Athen, that's where I'd go." Samhain is handed a photo constructed in real time from seemingly thin air, of the neutral city of Borealis. "Here's a picture, if you wanna do that camera thing again." For a city named after the north wind, it's not very arctic-looking. In fact it's surrounded by trees, with a huge satellite dish piercing the top of the canopy. In contrast to West Athen's sandstone, Borealis is a city of greys and blues, nestled in a clearing within a huge forest. The lights of neon advertisements in pale blues and oranges would likely give the city a certain glow, were the sun not out. "ICC's been notified, so you shouldn't have problems with the law there--just don't wreck the place looking for them. One more thing: killing them might not stick. They're not on any official reclaim buffers that we could find, but their boss might have a station rigged up at his place." That's been the only disconnect between what he's said and what he's feeling--though he warned about killing not necessarily being the play, Samhain can tell that he, personally, sure wouldn't mind being given the chance.
C	Rubi-Ka, Crow mused to himself, was somewhat similar to how Eastern Zemuria was starting to become. The Spirit Veins in those lands had dried up and died out and as a result, life in those areas become unsustainable. Nothing could grow, nothing could flourish. This place held a similar, deathly intensity to it. Of course, that didn't stop the people who actually lived here from finding a way to make ends meet. It was impressive, certainly, the general architecture being similar to the high-tech metropolis of Crossbell. "You say that, but you've got a real eager glint in your eyes." Making himself known from whence he'd been skulking, Crow saunters out. Unlike Gilbert, who'd only been wearing a facemile that resembled the outfit he donned under the persona of the ILF's leader, this C wore a darkly colored muscle suit with armored plates over the legs, arms and shoulders -- it bore an uncanny resemblance to the kinds of sneaking suits used by Big Boss, but was assuredly Zemurian made. A cloak obscured most of his frame, with his visored helmet settled nearly on his head. "You'll have to forgive the intrusion, but I've found myself in a certain position with these 'Gracious Ones' myself. Why not let me accompany you? As thanks for helping me out for a little bit, a while back." More specifically, if he could add them to his forces, they'd make a mighty fine chip in his pockets in the event he and certain parties back home came to blows. And, if not, it was likely he'd need to deal with them regardless. In a way that kept them out of his business, if that's how things played out.
Samhain	Ramon gives information and photos. Samhain squints suspiciously at the helpfulness, and then takes the photo. When Crow asks to join him, with the tension he feels towards him... "Don't slow me down." Samhain creates a photo frame to Borealis, for anyone to walk through. The 'revenge' is that it deposits a few feet off the ground, possibly causing an awkward fall, as Samhain lands with a hand out in a crouch. His goal is to search for Important Things immediately.
Liza Grier	As far as alien planets go, this one is one of the more decent Liza has set foot upon. Speaking strictly to the terraformed zone anyone is living in, of course, though more than simply being preferable to trudging around on an airless wasteland or plains of magmatic rain. Somehow it resembles one of those rare, beautifully untouched pioneer worlds, despite the number of ancient, rusted, crashed hulks. The kind of place where, usually, perhaps a few thousand human souls might live in a few different spots, at most. That lets her leave the helmet off and the nanoskin depowered for now. Her own armour is bright, fresh blood red, and considerably 'newer'-looking than most, though some scrapes and dings belie the presence of previous damage that hasn't quite been fully repaired by some seamless process. Despite the no doubt intentionally stark and eyecatching look of what would be heavy military gear if it actually came from a military, she spends most of the journey, and initial meeting, lingering around the river banks, recording the wild life, breathing in the air, and crouching to take little snippings of various flowers and reads, which disappear into some kind of wrist-mounted inventory, before she bothers to make contact with the 'Vanguard' rep here. "Let's cut to it." she says without even introducing herself, suddenly somehow less interested and careful about this than picking out the right branching shoots. "Vanguard. Who? Why do we care? Eumenides. What'd you do? Where does the bad blood come from? Vergil. Profile? Goal in uniting them? Warpgate. What's the problem? Why not let them leave and make themselves not your problem? ICC. Why do I give a shit? Buffer. Necessity in tracking it down?"
C	The masked terrorist's retort was a cryptic chuckle as he joins Samhain in his particular method of travel. If he held the petty slight against him for being dropped from several feet up, he didn't seem to have any intention of vocalizing it; however, he did show off just how nimble he really was, landing with catlike grace. Standing back to his full height, Crow rolls both of his shoulder in a succinct motion. "Truthfully, I don't care for most of the nuances going on here. My interest is purely in the 'Gracious Ones' themselves. Or, themself, now."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Bauer is called out by Crow. He shifts in place, nodding once. "I'm not a fan of theirs, no." The news outlets bold enough to show the video of the shooting captured by the Vanguard officers' helmets don't paint a flattering picture. Eumenides was perfectly honest about their intentions, and when the clan soldiers attempted to detain them, they opened fire with some sort of energy weapon, enveloping both men in fiery violet plasma. Liza in turn gets answers as terse as her questions, Bauer slinging the rifle over his shoulder to list out the points with the hand not holding the cigarette. He does take another pull before he speaks, though. "Let's." Exhale. "Vanguard. Clan. The Clans are all different, but we all agree Omni-Tek corporation's gotta go. You care because we, that is, the Vanguard, in particular, are very resourceful, very discreet, and good friends to have on Rubi-ka." That's two fingers down. Next, finger number three. "Eumenides. All we 'did' was open up the condemned subway under Athen--" He pauses the enumeration to point over his shoulder with a thumb, towards the twin cities at the north end of this river, just faintly visible over the horizon on either side of the Stret. "And send a couple of you guys in to check the place out. Turns out there's a whole city under there, complete with social pariahs. Like Vergil, who, near as I can tell, is some kinda mad scientist cult leader they forced deeper into the tunnel, where he made his own little kingdom out of... his 'creations.'" Finger number four. "Eumenides is three of his more successful ones, put together. Dunno why. Maybe because he could. Maybe because it gives them some kinda edge in a fight." He shrugs. Where does the bad blood come from? Finger number five--out of fingers on that hand. He realizes it's stupid to keep doing it at that point somewhat awkwardly, and drops his hand. "Apparently Vergil thinks the people who kicked him out are also still his subjects, so I'm guessing it's the outside influence he's pissed off about. As for 'the problem,' I'm trying to set up a good working relationship with the outside, so that I can get people like yourself here to help out every now and then. Letting a crazed gunner loose is not good for business. I, and my boss, would prefer that Eumenides is out of the picture before we get any fingers pointed our way."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Samhain's portal leads right to the front gates of the forest city. Even as cargo ships, the odd personal vehicle and more official-looking troop transports come and go, Borealis is striking in its coexistence with its surroundings. The forest clings quite close to the city's walls, and leaves are a common sight in and around the city. The only other man-made structure in the forest is the massive satellite dish just outside of the city, wide enough in size that one may easily imagine it's used for communication across the yawning immensity of deep space. Even that only takes up what space is absolutely required, the trees growing quite close to it. For Important Things, there are quite a few places and people of note in a city of this size--for though it is nestled in a forest, it is a very busy, populated city. Just inside the front gate is a recruiter for the Clans, and not far from her is one for Omni-Tek, the corporation which legally owns the planet, yet shares it begrudgingly with the opposing clans and the neutral citizens of cities like Borealis. Both are dressed in plain clothes, though each also has an armed escort sourced from their respective factions. These soldiers aren't alone--cloaked and helmeted, clad in sleek black uniforms, ICC 'Peacekeepors' patrol the city in twos. They favor cartoonishly large assault rifles which house complex machinery within bulky frames--yet they bear the weight of these beasts easily. Towards the center of town is the barracks, which is likely where you'll find who's in charge here, if you care to coordinate that much. The warpgate is near the west end of the town, up against the wall and guarded by a towering four-legged assault robot in gleaming white, with its workings partially concealed by some maner of creased rubber casing where the joints appear to articulate. The lines of concealed weapons systems are present at several points on that robot--it might be a good place to lie in wait for them. Another place that seems a likely spot they might be is Borealis' own Subway network. Its exterior looks identical to the one in West Athen. Perhaps if they're feeling homesick, they might visit it.
C	Considering the options at hand, Crow's instinct was to head for the subway. Of course, networking with Omni-Tek or the Vanguard to get more info wasn't a bad idea, but his gut rarely pointed him wrong. That, and, none of them looked the reputable sort. The other option he considered was staking out that white machine. Essentially, to ambush, or to confront ... which would be the superior option? Of course, it was all a toss up as to whether his suppositions were even on the mark. However, if things did devolve into blows, he'd be able to cut loose a little more down there than he would up here. "Do as you like, but I'm heading underground."
Liza Grier	"So, officer in the structural sense. No 'officer of the law' or 'officer of country'. Good. We're level then." Liza replies to Bauer first. "Professional too. I like --well, no, I appreciate it. Good job answering all that. Especially in less than five minutes and without giving me a reason to check out." Contrasting jarringly with the getup she's wearing, Liza begins twirling a sidelock loosely around her armoured finger in thought. "So, putting bullets to a corporation. Good. In terms of connections, have to start somewhere, so might as well be here. Eumenides are mutants, or parahumans or something. Lab babies courtesy of a one man cult of personality. So I guess the only things left to ask are . . ." She suddenly fixes back on Bauer proper, rather than the distance behind him, intensely red like her suit. "Why do you need the tunnels? And, what are your terms about what happens to this Vergil? That's enough for me to get to work."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Crow's instincts lead him to the subway entrance. It's clearly fallen out of use and has been for a long time. Just getting the doors open is an excercise in leverage, against rusted-out gears... but someone else may have loosened it up for him. The motors do try and close the steel doors, but all they can manage, once Crow is through, is a groaning kind of shuffle, alongside the hiss of an ineffectual pneumatic. Lights turn on in response to his presence, from the moment he steps in. The hallway is a dim and dingy affair, with dirty green ceramic tiles underfoot, and dull grey walls covered in dust and grime. Advertisements for mostly forgotten products and locales flicker to life on monitors interspersed throughout the hall. That entrance hallway opens up into a mezzanine of sorts, the large open space of which seems slightly unsettling in the dim lighting, given its utter emptiness. Unused turnstiles bar the way at the other end, and on either side of the mezzanine, there are doors for long-unused restrooms. The silence in this gloom is almost oppressive--but the hiss and clank of a heavy metal door at the west end of the room. Standing in the dim light, there they are--a figure six feet tall. Slightly portly, but in a way that suggests a fair amount of muscle beneath the bulk. They are shaved bald, but for a single, shockingly pink length bound into a ponytail. They are clad in lime-green armor which, given the 'OT' on the abdomen, was likely stolen or repurposed Omni-Tek armor at some point. In their hands, there is a weapon that was undoubtedly made from scratch, yet is quite sophisticated despite the hodgepodge construction. Slowly rotating fuel rods glow brightly within a pink translucent chamber, slowly rotating around a central, metallic fixture. The weapon's business end is a pair of prongs between which a violet arc of electricity dances. It appears quite heavy--but one look at the gun show that is their unarmored arms shows that they've probably got it well in control. "Ah, Crow, yes? Of the 'Imperial Liberation Front." There are... two voices, when they speak. Not three. "You did not breach His halls, but you serve those who did."
C	'Huh .. so they sussed out my real name. Like I thought, this has to be taken care of, one way or another.' At least with the Imperial Intelligence Division and Class VII knowing, it limited the spread of that information as they kept it relatively close to their chest. But these people, or rather, this person ... That appearance didn't fool him. They were dangerous. And that weapon, some kind of lightning caster, meant business. Parting his cloak with his arm, he reveals his weapon in hand. A long, two sided lance -- a kind of swordspear from the dark ages, and while under the persona of C, his weapon of choice. "Well .. what can I say? Back scratches make the world go 'round. Sorry about the mess. I was hoping we could call it water under the bridge."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Bauer nods in agreement with Liza--if there is a 'law and order' clan, the Vanguard aren't it. If anything, Ramon probably comes across more like a made man; someone with his own organizational code, who applies it only to those of his organization, rather than a keeper of some wide-ranging law meant to apply even to civilians. He seems like he'd elaborate if she asked, but he picked up her vibe pretty quickly and is mostly sticking to it. "Yep. So, the tunnels. Since there's people living down there, what we need is the people, not the tunnels themselves. Peace is good for business, y'know?" He flicks the spent cigarette away after one final pull. Exhale. "There's a lot of talented hands down there who would make good neighbors and great allies, and since the tunnels don't connect to anything, we're fine leaving it at that." "For Vergil, at the very least, we need his reclaim network torched, if he's managed to set one up. Icing him would be preferable if you can manage. But... either way. We can't have some loopy general whipping up paint-by-the-numbers footsoldiers beneath our doorstep. Since he's under a Clan city--" He points north, to the half of Athen situated on the west bank of the Stret's narrow tributary. "--there's no red tape we gotta get through. All you'd need to worry about is just whatever defenses he's set up. If you wanna go down there, I'd just ask that you gimme a minute to get you some backup. I dunno what I'd be sending you into, and I know I don't wanna have you there alone."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	The Borealis warpgate is the kind of place you'd want to have a meet-up at, were you concerned about being attacked--aside from the aforementioned quadrupedal robot, the ICC maintains a presence in this part of town that's elevated, compared to the postings elsewhere in the city. Samhain doesn't have to wait long before he has a visitor. Were he able to see what Crow is seeing in the Subway, he'd swear that they were looking at the same person. "Ah, First among the Intruders. Samhain, yes?" The remaining third of Eumenides speaks with only one voice, a deep baritone that seems apropos of their portly, muscular stature. They are seemingly unarmed, showing at least some awareness of how outgunned they'd be if they dared to draw here. "We are Eumenides. Your influence on His subjects cannot be allowed to continue, and therefore, you must die. If you would accompany us outside of town, we would be happy to grant you a quick death." They speak in low tones, so as not to risk a guard overhearing them--but their candor is utterly sincere.
Samhain	Samhain heads for the warpgate, where Eumenides is super polite and also creepy. He considers ending this now, but he has the tactical disadvantage. His saving grace is being a teleporter with connections to pull information. "Not now. Place and time. We'll fight there. Humans call it a duel." He waits for the answer. He teleports away whether or not he gets a yes.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Eumenides smiles pleasantly, as if Samhain had just offered a kind compliment. "The people of this out-tunnel call that--" They point to the huge satellite dish just outside of the city. "The 'subspace array.' We will meet there, in three days time, as the Night-Orb is at its apex."
Liza Grier	Liza's vibe ranges in a sort of 'controlled let-herself-go' range, bordering on 'technically retired but happy to keep working', like an old man who still repairs houses for the fun of it, except she looks maybe thirty at most and the nature of her work is coming across as increasingly, jarringly suspect for someone who has an inventory full of preserved nature bits and hair that barely fits in her helmet. This gels fairly well with a community-minded semi-professional like Bauer, it seems. "Good answer. Nine out of ten. Extra credit point for being on top of Ce qu'on voit et ce qu'on ne voit pas." She somehow gets the French incredibly smoothly. "I can take his head off or I can bring it in for questioning." The way she says questioning is infinitely more chilling than any agency spook could possibly manage, gladly directed somewhere else. "Your choice. The network --that's sort of my speciality, disappointed as I am that nuclear weapons won't be authorized here." She smiles. That's probably supposed to be a joke. "I like it. You can call backup if you want, but they stay behind me. Most of what I do, I've adapted to doing it alone. And I do it alone because most people don't have the spine, or are already overloaded on cognitive dissonance; pick your favourite. This kind of breach and clear on unfamiliar, enclosed territory, on a straight run op to point of destruction-of-materiel and capture of an executive officer, all forces between designated expendable; that's casual space Friday. Cozy. I don't want your boys trying to get-down-ms-president on me. I'm not a necromancer."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"Alright. I know just the guys. One sec." Bauer presses a finger to his ear, clearly developing a rapport with Liza. When he gets on the phone, it's likely an energy that she's seen before. With the same tone as a foreman going over hours on a difficult project, Ramon negotiates a transport and a hand picked crew to complement Liza's strengths. "'Kay, we got a specialist ready to handle the Subway thing. Nah, she's gonna take point. No Enforcers. Trust me, she knows what she's doing." ... "Yeah. Yeah. So, get a transport out to my position. Okay. Send the roster to my NCU?" There... isn't really any visual indication that anything has changed, besides a furrow on Bauer's blonde brow. He's reading something, even though there's nothing in front of him. "Okaaaaay... alright, that transport. I want Stitches, Eddie Two-Times, Phreak, and..." He turns to face Liza, tapping his chin thoughtfully, pondering who would best complement her abilities and those of the resources he's already committed. "Yates. Make sure they're armored up and on that transport." He pauses, as he's asked a question. "No, not yet. Turns out they can split up, we got eyes on two. One guy's gonna try and duel his, in three days. Got another asset in the Borealis subs who's gonna try and talk it out." The next question he's asked, she can probably guess, by his reaction. He pushes a breath out. "Maybe it will. If it does, and if Jacobi's happy, I can deal. But don't put all your eggs in one basket, yeah? Yeah, alright. Give Denny my best." He nods at Liza. "Got you a squad put together. Take a tight five--transport'll be here to fly you back up Athens way. They'll answer to you for this op, and I already told 'em you're taking point." One part of Eumenides leaves the city--perhaps to prepare for their duel in three days time, or perhaps to search out another of Vergil's enemies. The other two, united as one, will hear Crow's arguments, but whether they will listen is anyone's guess. That just leaves Vergil--who, very soon, will be getting a visit from a heavily armed squad led by Liza. Soon, the last shadows of the Condemned Subway will finally be burned away.