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Rita Ma      It's night. The seagulls are solemnly quiet, as if they sense the importance of the occasion. Arrival is by the artificial warpgate on the Union Busan, where every twentieth person seems to have bags under their eyes, and the collective mood is even more listless than you'd expect after dark.

     Bota is waiting down at Floating City New York's docks, wearing elegant flowing white robes that he looks distinctly unused to. Tamamo would recognize them. More importantly, he looks wretchedly unslept too. "Hey! I'm glad you all could make it. Kana said she'd leave 'this sort of thing' to me, but..." His melancholy shrug communicates a lot of things.

     "Postponing the negotiations to after dark is a power play," he complains, en route to New York's central skyscraper. The walk is eerie- the metal streets are mostly empty, there's no noise but clanking footfalls and the low omnidirectional roar of the ocean- but only takes about twenty minutes. 'Humanity's last bastion' is chillingly small.

     "Last night I had a nightmare," he says. "Everyone with the Fish Disease did. About the Leviathans' nest, and the end of the world, and Rita, or... maybe our mom? They look kind of alike. And the Fish Disease is mostly a disease of the lower classes, so that's a lot more of us than them. They're trying to capitalize on the fact that we barely slept."

     Important-looking people from all over what's left of the world are gradually filtering into the central skyscraper. The elevator is big enough to fit the whole party, and though it's agonizingly slow and groans in a nervewracking way, it does work. Bota leans against the back wall, crossing his arms and staring at the doors in uncomfortable thought.

     As the long moments stretch on, impatience turns his poutiness into frustration. "This thing feels so loose," he finally says, waving his arm aggrievedly to make the sleeve flap. "How do you get used to that?! I'm gonna get made fun of, I just know it."
Ishirou Ishirou is here, despite everything.  He doesn't say anything, instead looking off at the water, or at the buildings, or...really just about anywhere that wasn't another person.  One thing people will notice is that his right eye had been damaged recently.  It was repaired, but the gold was gone, and the flesh around it was still slightly off-color than the rest of it.  The eye itself was restored.

Bota describes the nightmare, and that does indicate something for Ishirou.  That the disease was more than it appeared to be, and that the queen could use it to 'speak' to and perhaps through others.  He isn't sure what could be done about it, he wasn't a biologist.  

Leaning against one of the walls of the elevator he just kept his head down.  Bota's discomfort at the robes doesn't really cause him to do much but slightly look up.  Giving him a supportive, though forced, smile.  He lowers his head again.
Kale Hearthward > "They're trying to capitalize on the fact that we barely slept."

"Hold a spot open on the elevator," says Kale, breaking off from the group without a word. He taps his heels together, activating his jet boots, and he takes off, yelling something into his radio as he does so.

Just before the group gets onto the elevator, he arrives back, at maximum speed, air-breaking and basically stumbling into the elevator at the last moment. He's wearing a backpack he wasn't wearing when he left. "Made it. Whew. Remind me to give my crew a raise."

He pulls the backpack off and starts pulling out the contents - starting with a battery powered electric kettle, a dozen travel mugs, and a selection of instant coffee and tea packets. "Here, Bota. You'll want one of the ones that say 'half-caff' on there, if you haven't had coffee before, but this'll help," Kale says as he clicks on the electric kettle.
Tamamo     After dark shouldn't be a good time for a Sun-powered miko to operate, and it isn't really, but how much that matters depends on just how far away your Sun is. With Tamamo on the scene, in a sense, there's the Sun, right here.

    More to the point, endless renewal of fighting energy is one of the stronger points in her array of blessings. Unlike chugging energy drinks, it won't even destroy your gut in the process! This truly deserves the title of 'divine miracle.' And that's just what she passes along with a strip of bookmark-like paper, a red string tied through a hole at one end, characters scrawled across it, to Bota. "Oh, it has been difficult, has it not? Please accept this, and tuck it away." She has plenty more of those, having had the expectation that she would need to help out something somewhat closer to army-sized, though under more ideal circumstances, she'd be putting most of her effort into teaching how to make similar items, powered through a shrine.

    "Here, have you tightened...?" Tamamo inspects what folds of cloth are tucked or tightened or strapped where on Bota's outfit, heedless of how embarrassing this could be. At least she isn't reaching out to fix anything with her own hands. "One certainly does become used to such things, though it is also the case that one may, where needs arise, hold up one sleeve. It is as an extension of one's body, when cloth is well-understood. Though this may be easiest with that which is more tightly designed, it is no less true of others, just as it is the case that I need not think of the positions of my tails. Ah, my apologies -- that is, perhaps, a less than useful example."
Redshift Operators     "Sorry, what'd you say? What? You had a fucking... Apocalyptic epidemic-wide psychic vision-quest, and they're trying to use that to schedule for *classist crowd management*?" One of the Redshift Operators here mutters, the leaderly gunman. As he clarifies that situation, he's actively loading a sidearm he'd left unloaded before.

    "Don't." Says his cyborg medic, gently releasing the magazine and racking the slide while it's still in his hands. "It will be *bad*, but it can't be *that* bad." Not that she can run predictions on a social exchange involving so many unfamiliar people. However her precognitive abilities work, that's just not fitting for her. She also turns to Bota: "Well, I believe it looks quite stylish, but I'm told my tastes are unique."

    The giant towers over Bota. "They won't make fun of you." Is all he says. His weight makes the whole elevator creak as his good optics burn bright. He's just being as supportive as he can be!

    The astronaut absentmindedly stares at a wall, as if looking past it. Zero dialogue. They're not facing forward in the elevator, as tradition, but off to the left. It doesn't even violate an unspoken social rule, per se, it's just not something anyone does. If there's a window to the outside, though, they'll be staring at the horizon.
Angela There are many teams in Lobotomy Corp that have a variety of roles in Lobotomy Corp even if most of them ultimately end up doing the same thing in the end due to where the focus of the work is. Nevertheless, though they often are doing the same thing that doesn't mean they are ALWAYS doing the same thing. Sometimes a team is handling EGO extractions, sometimes another team is going out and investigating a new world--but there's one team in particular that specializes specifically in handling the typical situation for a Lobotomy Corp day. Specifically, they specializes in the suppression of Abnormalities (and employees that lost it).

The Captain of the Disciplinary Team is a five foot seven man in thin framed glasses that carries a large bloodied axe in his hands and wears a green and grey suit. His face is rather plain but he is pretty much constantly frowning. His name is Shajo and he has a datapad with a red headed woman with a scarred face who is presently (and always) smoking while observing through the monitor. His is joined with a huge six foot woman with a large muscular build, a bright smile, and long dark blue hair. She is wearing a black and yellow suit and massive golden gloves around her fists. They are amiably chatting to one another as they arrives.

"Oi Senior," Nonon says, grinning widely. "How will we know which one's Rita?"

"We have a vocal sample, no information on what she looks like," Shajo says. "But we have appearance information on a few Outsiders so we'll follow one of them around until we run into her or the Dame Commander. Then we're supposed to ... Ehhn what was it again, Gebura?"

"We were asked by Angela to treat them with a the proper respect of a Fixer. 'Pparently Justin clued 'er in on what that means. If you make us look bad I'll make sure you regret it when you get back--and not in the way you like, Shajo." The woman on the screen, Gebura, says.

"HEH HEH..." Nonon hefts her superior up in one arm. Shajo doesn't stop scowling but a faint blush crosses his features. "Don't you worry, we're the Disciplinary Team! That means we'll be properly disciplined, boss!"

Gebura's expression radiates skepticism.

''About the Leviathans' nest, and the end of the world, and Rita...''

Shajo says, "Nonon, stop. Heard something."

He squints, looking around until he sees Ishirou's bowed head.

"Not sure if that's it," Shajo says. "But let's follow that guy. Eventually we'll run into who we need to and we can report in."

"Want me to set you down?" Nonon asks.

"Nah, better to start off on the right foot. Once we're there."

The two of them approach Bota and Ishirou (and anyone else who might be there). Once there, Nonon does set him down and beams happily. Shajo adjusts his glasses, clears his throat, and says, "Ah, well, Hello there. We are Shajo and Nonon of the Disciplinary Team, presently being overseen by Gebura of the Sephirah. We're here to support, ah... Well not you two but maybe you can direct us to them?"

Nonon's eyes widen faintly as she sees the Giant.

"Oh wow! That guy's pretty tall!

"Please don't pick a fight just because you like him already." Shajo says.

"Maybe later!" Nonon is all friendly smiles. "Nice to meetcha!" She offers the giant a hand.
Candy <X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Candy says, "You know."
<X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Candy says, "What the fuck were we supposed to do. Ah? Spy on her? Break into her house? Because I thought we came away last time agreeing that's a really shitty thing to do to somebody."
<X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Candy says, "What, were we gonna keep calendars for them like they're a couple of old ladies forgetting to take their pills? Make sure they don't cross paths this Tuesday! That fucking asshole. I hate her. I hate her for making it wrong to give a shit, and for making my friend worse."
<X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Charlotte Newman slowly exhales.
<X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Charlotte Newman says, "This, after you worked so hard to convince me about her back then? That's all it takes to give up?"
<X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Candy says, "I haven't given up. I've just given up on arguing about it with her. Besides, she'd fucking like that."
<X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Candy says, "I'm not giving up on her, because that's what's going to piss her off more."
<X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Charlotte Newman says, "Spite isn't going to solve anything, Mr Candelario."
<X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Candy says, "It's worked for me for damn near a decade, ah, Charlotte?"
<X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Charlotte Newman says, "Mmm..."
<X-Watch-Chatter> [4] Redshift Operators | White Dwarf says, "A broken limb, properly given initial care and sustained support, will heal itself through regrowth, because the body understands how it is meant to heal and will do so, if it is allowed to. A person's emotional heart is similar. Protect it, support it, and with enough months of that, it seeks its own health."
<X-Watch-Chatter> [3] Hibiki Tachibana tiredly, "...I'm seriously almost jealous that you can work like that, Candy."

    Candy follows behind Bota, hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants, eyes down.

*Why the fuck did I do that.*

*Why am I always a hair away from flying off the fucking handle?*

Kept you fighting.

*There's gotta be some other way.

    "I'd fix that, if I could." The words come from him as if he'd forgotten how to speak--or at least, that's what it feels like to him. There are other things that he wants to fix, besides Bota and everyone else not being able to sleep. But that's beyond even Candy scale of 'fixing.' What would he do? Stretch a moment out for all those people at once?

    "You're not gonna get laughed at," Candy says with a weak smile. "You look handsome, ah? You'll do good." He sighs, frowning. "Better than I do, with this kind of shit." His thoughts drift every time he isn't directly focused on conversation. Right now, even 'mid-conversation.' He can't stop thinking about how I really thought throwing my weight around instead of getting in that shithead's face was doing her a favor. Then I ended up shouting anyway. 'Cause I was mad she pointed it out.
Kukuru Kukuru is here, too! After the disaster that was her first appearance in New York, though, she looks like a completely different person from last time. Her hair is actually straightened out from top to bottom (aside from one clump in the back she can't reach), and her usually frilly getup has been replaced with a far more professional-looking pencil skirt in dark green with a matching jacket and white blouse. Even her normally oval-shaped glasses have been replaced with smarter-looking rectangular framed glasses, although the lenses are just as flat as they usually are.

It's easy enough to tell at a glance that Kukuru's trying to put forth a better first impression than she might have the first time around.

"He-llo, Bota... Is it really? I thought they'd be just as sleepy if they started something this late, too..." She replies with a low, thoughtful hum. She shrugs after a moment, turning her head slightly to stifle a yawn into the back of her hand, but she doesn't sound any more or less tired than she usually does.

"You should sleep earlier tonight if you're having nightmares, though. Or maybe... Did you eat anything funny before bed? Er. All of you?" The fact that everyone with the disease had the same nightmare certainly seems off to Kukuru, although the significance of it doesn't really hit her just yet.

She also helps fix and nudge Bota's sleeves a bit after he complains, joining Tamamo in that process while absolutely using her hands to do things. "Aw, don't worry. It looks really good on you. Like a... Dashing prince sort of way." She reassures him with a light pat on the elbow, then giving Candy and Red Giant an affirming nod and smile. "Hey, heey. Don't worry, that'll just make it easier for them to see Bota when he's doing his talking part."
Hibiki Tachibana 'I hope you can be brave, too.'

    Those words went unspoken and unsaid. But they were heard all the same, and they've been sitting in a corner of Hibiki's heart for the last few days. She really did say a lot of things without really thinking about it - and now that it's all had time to settle and things have quieted down again, it's not exactly easy to draw on the same feelings she had right at that moment.

    But that just might be why she can still show up here in Floating City New York again, after how last time went. It'd feel pretty impossible otherwise, facing both that and the prospect of having to deal with...negotiations. And the fear that she's going to lose her cool over something again and make everything worse. Do you want to pretend you don't feel strongly about something?

    "Everyone with the Fish Disease did? ...Maybe that means she really is gearing up for the end of things..." It bothers her, that that happened the very night before these talks. Hibiki inhales deeply. She's feeling about as out of her element here as Bota looks, wearing what he is, for more reasons than one.

    The elevator ride is longer than she'd like it to be too, for sure. In response to Bota's frustration, she rubs at the back of her neck. "I don't think I'd be able to get used to it either," she offers by her own way of support, after a certain giant's own. "You only gotta wear it for so long. Don't worry." It feels better to say something now, when she might not even get the chance - or even want to - once they're up there. Or maybe she won't be able to keep her mouth shut.

    ...There's not really anywhere to look where she's not also looking at someone else. At least the team that Angela sent this time seems real friendly.
Meika Kirenai     Night-time outings are a double-edged sword. On one hand, darkness and sleeping family members make trivial the act sneaking out of a household that doesn't truly expect any behavior to the contrary, but those quiet hours are valuable, and the next morning and all its commitments just creeps closer all the while. Meika's fingers tap against an empty energy drink can she's forgotten she's been holding on to, and the faint scent of smoke clings to her. It's just routine.

    When she steps through the warpgate, to make her way down to the docks (the normal way, no wasting the effort of a transformation), it's almost a bit of comfort to be far from the only one with bags under her eyes, and as a yawn creeps out of her, she hunches her shoulders to lose just a bit more of herself in the collar of her letterman jacket. It'll be better this time.

    Bota's comment on the intentionality gets a small sigh, and nothing more from Meika. It figures that gaming the dynamics are the trend and not an exception. She hums a nonsense tune, keeping herself quiet and distracted on the walk to the central tower.

'Everyone with the Fish Disease did.'

    "Fish disease?" Meika can't bring herself to not ask, a hint of worry in her voice. "Are you sick, Mister? It's-" No, don't pry. If it's bad, why would he want to think of it? "...Sorry. If that's personal, or doesn't really matter..."

    She doesn't want to snicker at his outfit. It'd be rude. But she does so anyways, barely covering her mouth with a sleeve-covered palm to mask it.
Redshift Operators     The giant's power armor creaks and wails, straining as he turns to Nonon, one of those agents Angela sent. Tilting his head, the good side of his optics shines as he stares at her for a long while. Imagine a man in a bloodied hockey mask, holding a machete, were staring at you, motionlessly. He walks forward, leans down just slightly, and uses his massive power armor gauntlets to pinch the hand between the lengths of his thumb and two fingers, and shake. His voice is like gravel. "You should find who you're here to help." He says. "Before things go badly for them."

    He's just!! Trying to be so helpful!! He heard they were looking for someone, and he also heard that there's some kind of scheduling problem right now! He'd love to make sure things go well for them.
Lilian Rook     Humanity's last bastion is chillingly small; as it always is. What's left of the world is always a little trickle, and never a grand gathering. Lilian, consciously, knows that there is an entire Multiverse beyond here. Beyond this endless horizon of ocean, there are a thousand other oceans, and even should those be lost and turned muddy crimson with blood, there are ten shousand more beyond those. She knows that if it isn't her, it could, maybe, be someone else. A lot of people, some of whom might die, but not her. She knows that it'd take lifetimes and lifetimes to arrive at her door even if they failed too. But deeper than consciously knowing is intuitively feeling, and no amount of globetrotting sight-seeing has budged her heart even a little from where it rests:

    Home is small. People are too few to run away from. The outside will eat you alive. What little we have is all we get, and if even this falls apart, there'll be nothing. Not one inch more.

    It's been a while, since she'd deeply felt those thoughts. Lilian puts it at a little under a year or so since last they'd cast that shadow in her. She thinks about it as she walks the decks; marching in silence that only seems like tactical rehearsal from the outside. And she thinks about something else besides that, too. Even if today is about the end of the world, whether she scores a win for all of humanity or a crushing loss of everything, tomorrow she still has to wake up and save someone else too.

    'They're trying to capitalize on the fact that we barely slept.'

    "Don't you worry about that." Lilian suddenly interjects from nowhere, sharp as ever despite the way she appears hazy and distracted. "I hardly ever sleep enough anyways. It'll be business as usual for me." The smile is teasing, but she unfortunately looks like it. A degree of subtle fatigue has seeped into everything from her shoulder under her bag strap to the sluggish blinking of her eyelids that registers as a wonder that she can still look so perfectly dressed and made up. "Besides. If worst comes to worst, I'll simply fall back on the emergency Paladins Mind Control Ray." she says. It sounds a little too forced. Cranking the dial on the overton window and carefully watching the audience for reactions.

    "But if they really sidetrack this meeting just to make fun of you, I really might have to make an example, you know. Before I was something like a Harpoonist, I was in training to take over one of these political roles, you know. Weaving back and forth over the line works better than you'd think."

    'It will be *bad*, but it can't be *that* bad.'

    "There's a chance it will be that bad." Lilian says, dully. "It could be even worse. Humans are capable of all sorts of things. Worse than you know." She suddenly remembers the way Clark Miller had looked at her. The implicit sign of recognizing one of his own. Lilian resists a shudder. "It might be bad enough that I'll be forced to not accept it. For Rita's sake, I can't allow the worst possible case. Tonight is just another chance for them to not force me. Us."

    There's one particular thing that Lilian has done unusually with her presentation. Despite the faint chill of the night, she has on a summer halter top that exposes both her arms, and the dull gold tattoo on her back, between her shoulders. She can't afford to be taken unseriously for long, without Kana here to carry the weight of Busan's credibility as a military power, and not keen on fucking around.

    'Fish disease?'

    "Autoimmune disorder. Allegedly caught from the leviathans themselves." Lilian monotones. "A dirty poor's disease. Grounds for throwing overboard. Non-infectious, but who needs to know that?"
Meika Kirenai 'A dirty poor's disease. Grounds for throwing overboard. Non-infectious, but who needs to know that?'

    Meika shudders, looking between Lilian, Bota, and Ishirou. "...Is it really scary enough, that... they'd end up doing that to people?" A small disbelieving sharpness comes into her voice- it's not quite anger, but it's close.
Lilian Rook     "When you only have room for ten thousand, you'll find any excuse to shave two hundred off the eleven thousand you have." Lilian blandly replies to Meika. Like it's a self-evident, universal fact. "It only needs to be scary enough that nobody objects."

    She shakes her head to dispel memories of Mt. Fuji from her mind.
Ishirou Ishirou just nods his head to Lilian's assertion 'Is it bad enough'. "Even though it is the fault of the rich and powerful that they are subject to it in the first place."

Ishirou's eyes don't leave his downcast glance, even when members of Lobocorp introduce themselves. He just gives a weak wave.
Kukuru '...Is it really scary enough, that... they'd end up doing that to people?'
'When you only have room for ten thousand, you'll find any excuse to shave two hundred off the eleven thousand you have.'

"But who's making those decisions? It's... Not any of us, that's for sure." Kukuru purses her lips, looking downwards for a moment before glancing at the rest of the group. "It'd be different if it was someone we could trust, but... I don't even know if I can trust their numbers, from what I've seen. It's... Awful, isn't it?"
Lilian Rook     "The people making the decisions are the people who ultimately have to face the reality that they can't make food and water and electricity appear out of thin air, no matter how kind they are." Lilian snaps. "I understand attacking them for when they consume far more than their own share, without deserving it, but this is what the end of the world means."
Angela "Ah, that's her," Shajo says. He doesn't salute but he does give Lilian a nod. "Dame Commander. We've been given the job of assisting you fine folk today."

"Howdy!" Nonon gives Ishirou a strong wave in response to his weak one. Shajo adjusts his posture some to avoid getting clobbered.

"Hmm... Wonder if the Head thinks in that way," Nonon asides to Lilian. "I just figured jerks being jerks--"

She grins over to the red giant. "Seems like we found 'em. Thanks a bunch!" She offers the guy a fist bump. The guy might look like a huge slasher flick antagonist but Nonon seems to like that kind of aesthetic--and he seems friendly! Nonon likes the friendly serial killers.

None of the three seem to be surprised by the idea of humans not being nice people.

"We can handle any muscle needs you want of us." Gebura adds. "But we'll leave the politics to the experts, ma'am."
Rita Ma      The Disciplinary Team makes it onto the elevator at the last moment. Bota offers his hand to shake. "Er, good to meet you? Geburah of the Sephirah... I don't know her, but if you're here to help the Union Busan, then I'm sure just having you here will look good." A pause. "You should probably leave the axe behind. This is a meeting. You know that, right?"

     "Oh, um- thanks, Tamamo," Bota says sheepishly. The charm livens him up, and so does her inspecting his clothes, if not in the way he wants. He leans away and puts up his hands in an embarrassed defense, but Candy and Kukuru's compliments only make things worse. "H-hey! I tightened all the things I'm supposed to, I promise!! Kana even helped! I'll just get used to it on my own!"

     "'Like a prince'..." he repeats dubiously afterwards, looking away red-cheeked and rubbing the back of his neck. Meika's laughter gets a big aggrieved sigh out of him.

     "Oh! Yeah. I've had instant coffee once or twice. It's crazy what you can find down there in cans. You're the best, Kale," he says, with a sunny smile deeply reminiscent of someone else's. When it's done, he holds it and takes slow sips, looking positively rejuvenated.

     "Fish disease?"
     Bota flashes a little grimace, but then shakes his head. "No, it's not personal. Lilian's right. The mutation that turns fish into monsters just makes humans sick, instead. Me and Rita are mostly okay because our mom's the one who had it. We're... asymptomatic? Is that the word?"

     "I'm still worried about that 'psychic vision-quest' though. It felt like a warning, but from who? I don't think Rita did it. Maybe the Queen? But why would she warn us? And if the Queen has some sway over everybody with the Fish Disease, then..." He winces again, deeper, and shakes his head. That's not a possibility even worth contemplating.

     "If you have a mind control ray, now's the time," he adds to Lilian, not joking in the slightest. "It's the fate of the world, right?" Then, after a pause, he leans back and lifts his eyebrows, staring at her tattoo. "Wow. What rank is that?"
Rita Ma      After what feels like an eternity, the elevator doors open to a luxuriously parliamentary hallway. The atmosphere is austere. The gruff, bulky, callused old man waiting doesn't fit in at all. "New faces. Good. Did you get them up to speed?" "Boss Huorong! Sorry, I- well, no, not exactly, but..." "Hmph."

     He turns on his heel and gestures for the party to follow him down the hall. "The Leviathans' nest is a supervolcano. They're making it erupt in five months. We gotta go over there and bomb them first. If it goes off, it scatters their 'eggs' all over this world and a bunch of others. Maybe even yours."

     "Everybody's here. We gotta convince them to give us as much military aid as we can, especially New York. And without them gouging us too bad on the terms. Got it?" "Come on, Boss. It's the end of the world. I'm sure they're not gonna-" "Don't be naive."

     Huorong braces his hands against a pair of big wooden double doors. "Okay. Everybody ready?"
Tamamo     'I tightened all the things I'm supposed to, I promise!!'

    "I see that you did. Very good." With perfect sincerity, Tamamo praises Bota's ability to dress himself.

    'Maybe the Queen? But why would she warn us?'

    "Are they the only two that might have this ability?" Tamamo's probably not the best person for being up to date on this mystery's clues.

    'Wow. What rank is that?'

    Tamamo merely smiles, glancing Lilian's way with a flash of warmth, despite the air of 'I should really be asleep at this hour' that hovers over her, even with her own blessings. Perhaps it's more so for that languid air, in fact.

    'Okay. Everybody ready?'

    "Of course," she says, with misplaced confidence.
Redshift Operators     The giant nods firmly at Nonon. He's careful, of course, to nudge her hand with his. Slowly. Another slow nod. "Good." He thinks Lilian deserves plenty of support too! He falls in with the rest of the Operators after that.

    It's a little gratuitous when the leader uses those tactical squad hand-signs to direct his team. Do you really have to behave like that? Well, it's required enough that he sticks to them, nodding at what Gebura said. "Yeah. Here for *presence*. Not sure I have anything to say to the people who live topside on this city that they haven't already ignored my manifesto about. From what I hear, nobody at the top decks of Union Busan learned from *Samsung*, so I'm betting nobody at the top floors of New York learned much from *Amazon*." He practically spits the historical words. "Eh. They'll say some outrageous shit, and we'll need to look rambunctious and indignant, so I'll be right there for it. Otherwise, I'm looking imposing and adding some weight to whatever Rook's saying. Or adding some weight to her rejecting it."

    Another of those gratuitous hand-signs to get his team gathered near the door. He nods to Huorong. That guy, he can decently respect. He'll stride in a little after others like Lilian.
Kukuru Kukuru visibly deflates as the reality of the situation hits her just that much deeper after Lilian spells things out. "Y... Yeah. They must have it hard, too, then. They can't all..." She glances at her pockets, recalling just how easy it is for her to do exactly what it is Lilian says that the locals can't. "And even leaving isn't an option, if places like this are all that's left. So the people asking for us here... They're really counting on us, huh?"

Not everyone here is like Clark. They can't be. She doesn't want them to be. She just needs to keep reminding herself of that, even if the memory from last time is still too fresh in Kukuru's mind to forget. "We'll have to make sure they trust us, then."

She finds her spirits lifted again, at least, at Bota's bashful reaction to the fussing and the compliments. Enough so, even, that Kukuru has a moment to think about that thing with the mind control ray, peering at Lilian curiously around when Bota comments on it. "Right? Wow, I didn't know you even had something like that... Ah, you're so prepared~"

She believes in its existence completely, too.

An old man appears, and Kukuru stares at him blankly for a moment before smiling and greeting him with a light wave. He's got some more information for her to filter through, and Kukuru's mind is already working for once even before they reach the doors. "I wonder. If we could open up the volcano before it can blow up... Then it might not blow so hard, right?"

She has no idea how volcanos work. Regardless, Kukuru takes a moment to check everyone's clothes to make sure everything's where it needs to be, then her own outfit before closing her eyes for a good ten seconds.

"Mhm. I'm ready. And... Lili?" She turns to Lilian with an uncharacteristically focused expression and firmness in both her mind and body. "We'll be okay. I'll do better this time for you, and for Rita. And then..."

Kukuru trails off, but she reminds herself to not forget to ask Lilian about hanging out later.
Kale Hearthward Oh, there's the cyborg medic. She's on the list.

"Hey. You doing alright? Want some coffee or tea?" The packet selection is offered to White Dwarf. "Your, uh... hair game is on point today?" This whole 'being nice' thing is new to Kale.

> a sunny smile deeply reminiscent of someone else's.

Complicated thoughts. Think through that later.



> "Maybe even yours."

"I don't know about the rest of your worlds - but the Windswept Continent's close enough that it might be in the scatter range, and even if it isn't we'll be dealing with the offspring later on as they spread out."

"The sea trade routes being menaced by more monsters would kill GDP, and we'd be set back on the industrialization plan for at least five years," he says, and then pauses. "Also it'd kill a lot of people, obviously. Just... listing everything that's at stake."
Candy      "Heya, Boss," says Candy distractedly. He hasn't even spoken up in response to Lilian's remarks about the burdens of being in charge. He follows down the hall as if on autopilot.

     Outwardly, Candy is silent. Inwardly, there is discussion between him and his 'friends.'

Gimme a hand, Coyotl.

How may I help?

*I gotta be better for her, for Rita, and for the rest of these people here. -My- 'indignant and rambunctious is too much. So if I get pissed off, just... give me a minute. Let me walk it off, before I run my mouth and make everything worse again.*

     "Yeah," he says to Huorong, a half-second late, when the seasoned maintenance engineer braces his hands against the double doors. "I'm ready."

     He isn't sure that he is. But he's dressed nice, by the standards of a farmer--and his head is held high.
Lilian Rook     'Dame Commander. We've been given the job of assisting you fine folk today.'

    Lilian turns to look, and her eyes skip right over Shajo and Nonon for a second, scanning the space around and behind them, before coming back to the present.

    §He's not here. Thank god. I can't deal with that right now.§

    "Pleased to see you." Lilian says, casually enough. "I'm surprised that it'd be here and now, but I suppose some of that time I spent with Angela had some positive results." she adds, thinking nothing of the implication.

    '"Hmm... Wonder if the Head thinks in that way'

    "I--" Lilian begins, then blunts her tone. "Think that's different. Nobody there is caught making tough decisions to save the most lives possible. They're making the kind that keep that insane constellation of spinning plates on their poles. Everything about that City is trying its very hardest to fly apart at the seams, and someone has a vested interest in keeping it in that shape no matter what."

    'We can handle any muscle needs you want of us.'

    The way Lilian looks at that databad is as if she expects to be able to size someone up from a flat image. She keeps that look for unnervingly long, too. Long enough to make one wonder if she really can get a sense for someone's bearing, posture, readiness, atmosphere, just from a screen, as ridiculous as that is. "If it's you today, I suppose I can be pleased." Lilian says, vaguely. "For several reasons. I'm glad to have your people along."

    'It's crazy what you can find down there in cans. You're the best, Kale'

    Lilian can't help but smile, a tiny bit. Then she looks away. She really does see the resemblance. "Yes. Asymptomatic is correct." she says, still faintly grinning. It's the most refreshed she's looked for two weeks.

    "If you want my theory, Bota, as the group's expert on this sort of phenomena, I have to say 'no'. It's implausible the Queen could exercise psychic control over species that don't fall under her purview. Infected or not, they're of 'another colony', and her drones don't recognize them by smell, if you'll pardon my analogy. The mutagen within them, and the affected cells, are probably still receptive to her psychic signal, however, and if it's sufficiently powerful, they might resonate with it, like a properly tuned radio wire. It's safe to assume all leviathan organisms have better developed psychic sensory organs along these lines."

    "That that means is probably that the Queen is sending a signal so strong that even humans can sense it. The fact that she desires the end of the world, and Rita, is unsurprising. It simply tells us how seriously she's finally taking us." Lilian says. "Don't forget that. We're all afraid. But so is she. All of us, even the fish devils, know how close this is going to be. Don't allow anyone to lose their nerve."
Lilian Rook     'If you have a mind control ray, now's the time. It's the fate of the world, right?'

    "I--" Lilian suddenly flinches. "Hahah. Worse, it's the fate of Rita's home." A sincere and genuine non-answer. There's no way I could tell him.

    'Wow. What rank is that?'

    Lilian laughs gently, then falls awkwardly silent. The indecision churning inside of her is palpable, as is a faint sense of guilt, though not what about. Her shoulders sink by centimeters, then square up again with a deep breath.

    "It's the identification of a Bloom of Humanity." Lilian says, truthfully enough. "There's only four of us in the world right now, to the best of my knowledge." Also the truth. "I apologize for not saying something earlier, Bota. I just couldn't imagine what good comparing tattoos could possibly do." She glances at his shoulder, barren of stars. "After all, you've never felt the need to show your own power either."

    'Everybody's here. We gotta convince them to give us as much military aid as we can, especially New York. And without them gouging us too bad on the terms. Got it?'

    "Huorong." Lilian nods as she exits. "I've invested quite a lot in the Busan, so I'll be properly cross if they think they can take me for an easy mark." she says. "Begging your pardon, however; if one of our resident imbeciles makes a mess of things, I'll be dumping them out here for your people to handle."
Ishirou That...is something. Why is there a warning? If Rita was found by the queen the situation would be hopeless, so it can't be her..? Why would the queen warn them? Is there something else going on? He doesn't like not being sure, or not being confident.

Ishirou's eyes don't come up, and instead, he just nods. "Hi," he responds back to Nonon. He doesn't really follow this up with anything, just simply a greeting and nothing else. Awkwardly hanging out near the wall instead.

At the top he walks with people, listening to the old man give a recount. "My home already has enough to deal with, even if the scatter range is far enough away, the supervolcano would likely make things terrible for a lot of people, them included."

"If it were all hard choices and desperate situations it wouldn't be as awful...but it's not if this place is any indication," he says with some reservation. Unlike others, he's not confident, he's not sure. He's just tired, confused, and afraid. He doesn't know what to do, or how he can be useful here.

But he just has to remain Just Fine, so they can focus on what's important. Then he can hollow move around what they don't cover if anything.

`I can at least trust me! You don't even have that!`

He's /Just Fine/.
Hibiki Tachibana     Being in the same elevator with Lilian really does feel more stifling than it should. In the few times that Hibiki looks her way, she can see the way her shoulders are sagging, and the tiredness in her eyes. 'Are you okay?' The words die in her throat as soon a long time before they form. Of course she's not. Very few of them are.

    What can she say, though? Is this even the time? Does she even actually /want/ to say anything to her? All those complicated emotions in her heart are still taking up a lot of space, compared to that mote of bravery.

    As the elevator finally reaches its destination, she's pursing her lips and closing her eyes. 'I'm sorry' almost comes to her mouth too, but that wouldn't get anywhere either. It sounds hollow even just in her head, just words. This sucks.

    So maybe the best thing she can do, right now, is just not put things at risk for Rita's world. Right now, that's more important than anything. The fate of Rita's home. So she has to do her best. Whether her best is speaking up, or anything else. This isn't just...for her. Is it?

    She recognizes Huorong from the Busan for sure, and gives him a slow wave of greeting. "...Yeah. All set. Let's see how hard it's gonna be to convince them." Hibiki wishes Bota could be right, so badly. But she'll deal with it as it comes, somehow.
Meika Kirenai 'It only needs to be scary enough that nobody objects.'

    Meika crumples up the held can, and shoves it and both her fists into her pockets. Meika catches Bota's grimace, and rolls her shoulders back and upwards, a feeble attempt to be small enough to vanish. 'Scary enough' is never a kind threshold.

    'I'm still worried about that 'psychic vision-quest' though. It felt like a warning, but from who?'

    Meika fidgets, in her pockets. "...God bestows His children aid. If it's a message, a warning, you're- you're people who He trusts to heed it." It's almost automatic, coming out of her mouth.

    The mind control joke not being taken as such causes a flicker of bitter worry to cross Meika's face- before she hides it. It's bad to interfere like that. Even if you can get away with it, and... if it can help make things easy. Easy doesn't mean right, right? But lives are at stake- and at Huorong's explanation of the bombs, maybe even the people and world she knows and loves are. If someone has to...

    "I'm- Chevalier Vermillion, Meika Kirenai. It's- it's nice to meet you, Mister Huorong." A hurried introduction, even if it wasn't asked for. It feels important to justify her place, here, as out of place as she knows she must look. But an apolagetic smile follows quickly.

    "..Ready." Teeth clamp around cheek flesh, hidden. Being one of the resident imbeciles doesn't sound appealing. She hopes it won't come to that. But if anyone has to- -again, the thought goes unfinished.
Redshift Operators     The cyborg medic is a little surprised at Kale. An out-of-place act of kindness from the haughty sky general? Well, she won't turn down an opportunity. "Tea, of course." She says, with a smile. "And my <hair game> is always on-point." She flicks it out with too much pride. "It has grown like this ever since... *the transformation*."

    "Begging you not to talk about this, or *like this*, in front of apocalypse congress, where they'll write everything down in *history* for *books*." The leader's voice strains with a brittle insecurity.
Angela "Yeah we'll stick with you and look tough." Gebura says. "Did plenty of work like that when I was a Fixer. So long as they aren't too disrespectful it should be fine." Her read of her own team is a bit more accurate than their read of themselves.

"Oh uh." Shajo says, off guard for the moment. He didn't think bringing a weapon to a meeting would be a problem (he lives in a world where bringing weapons to a meeting is normal). "I'll just prop it outside the door, that good?"

"I was hoping you'd bust the door down with it. That would've given 'em a startle for sure!" Nonon beams.

"Oh sure it'd be fun, but not very professional." Shajo sets the axe down, leaning it against the wall and takes a moment to polish his glasses. "Shame we can't just point out we've got a Color on our side here."

"Cut it with that talk," Gebura says. "It's not like I'm gonna be able to swing a sword around."

Shajo sighs regretfully all the same. He does glance at the tattoo upon being told it's some kind of ranking insignia but he doesn't ask about it. He's already expected to listen to her.

The problem is brought up and the Disciplinary Team nod to themselves in understanding.

"That explains it. We're getting the details for a job in five months. Nonon used to work on a ship too." Shajo adds, giving Kukuru a nod this time--one of agreement.

''Some of that time I spent with Angela had some positive results.''

Disciplinary goes quiet and Gebura is the one who recovers first.

"So that was you huh." Gebura says. "These two can run a bit wild, but they're the best Agents I've got right now. I'm here to point 'em. 'Fraid I gotta stay here and watch the Abnormalities."

Lilian looks at her. Gebura looks back. Lilian says that she is part of something that there is only four of in the world--Gebura evokes a similar sort of vibe without seeing it. And Gebura sees that vibe in Lilian too.

"...Yeah, they'll be in good hands huh." Gebura says eventually. "I'm not gonna be disrespectful of your operation but until they get a good idea of you it'll be better if I stick around. They get excited."

''Begging your pardon, however; if one of our resident imbeciles makes a mess of things.''

Nonon's big smile seems troubling.
Lilian Rook     'It has grown like this ever since... *the transformation*.'

    "Mood." Lilian says, in bland, awkward imitation of someone else. She sighs. "That didn't make any sense. Forget it."

    'So long as they aren't too disrespectful it should be fine.'

    "Isn't that always the problem?" Lilian says to Gebura. "Everyone's always thinking of how far they can push it; how they won't back down and won't be cowed. But everyone is also always thinking of how they'll 'stand up' and show the other side that they can only be pushed so far by throwing fists." She shakes her head slowly. "Everyone thinks that they get to push and also can't be pushed back. Unlike swords, people don't have any flex to their spine. Chances are it'll devolve into the same thing that goes on every day everywhere; two sides both posturing about how unreasonable the other is and how they don't have to stand for this; just smashing edge on edge until it's all chipped and mangled."

    'Shame we can't just point out we've got a Color on our side here.'

    Lilian's attention is drawn sidelong. "Colour?" She's expecting something.

    'So that was you huh.'

    "I apologize." Lilian says, unapologetically. "It will happen again."

    "She needs something you can't give her. That's all there is to it."

    'I'm not gonna be disrespectful of your operation but until they get a good idea of you it'll be better if I stick around. They get excited.'

    "None taken. Please keep your understudies on whatever length of leash you find appropriate. It'd be a refreshing change around here." says Lilian.
Rita Ma      "Not to worry," Huorong says to Lilian with a grunt. "It's all imbeciles in there too. You'll see." He raises his bushy eyebrows at Meika and offers a huge rough hand for her to shake: "Meika, huh. It'll get rough in there. If it's too much, feel free to step out, alright?"

     "A Bloom," Bota repeats, his eyebrows climbing his forehead. It takes him a moment to consider the implications. Then he smiles, with a little half-laugh. "It's never a badge of 'power', you know. It's a badge of hard work. I just don't feel like I've worked hard enough, yet. But I get the feeling you have."
Rita Ma      Huorong pushes the double doors open with a grunt of effort. Shouting leaks through the second they're cracked. "You can't seriously believe-" "How are we supposed to trust-" "-think we'll just-" "Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" "-unbelievable contempt!" "You *people*-"

     On the other side is a grand parliamentary hall: like everything about Floating City New York, it's jarringly not-all-that-big, but still austerely grand. There are rows of seats to the right and left, two sides facing one another. The right side consists of the mixed rabble of the other surviving settlements all crammed together: the haggard survivors of the former Union Notre Dame, the sharp and grim-jawed military representatives of Union Benin, the well-dressed-but-slightly-threadbare overseers of the Trade City.

     And the entire left side is the crisp and sparkling politicians of Floating City New York. Another power play, as usual. Only one person stands out from the left side's sea of gray hair and pressed suits: Clark Miller, still in his armored wetsuit, and sitting relaxed in the front row despite all the shouting around him. He smiles an immensely punchable smile at the new arrivals.

     No, maybe not at them. At the absence of Kana?

     Huorong leads everyone around to the only empty chairs on the right side's front row. There's just enough room for everyone to sit wedged in right between Benin and Notre Dame, and hardly any spare. A couple of maybe-familiar faces from the Union Busan are already present, but they're being metaphorically ripped to shreds.

     "Now listen," an older, cane-holding man on the New York side says. He must be a figure of some respect, because the left half of the room swiftly falls to quiet, and the right half follows out of social inertia. His low, drawling voice goes on: "Even supposing there is such a 'nest', such an eruption. What does that really mean for us? More sea monsters, no sunlight- New York has held before. And so what if it wears us down in thirty years?"

     There are soft gasps from around the room, and Clark rolls his eyes, but the old man continues. "Our ships are- excuse me! Excuse me. We're falling apart as it is! Why worry about something that isn't even as urgent as rust?"
Ishirou Ishirou doesn't understand what motivates these people.  However, a voice fills his head, probably not a good voice to be hearing given what has happened recently.  

'The next time you step up to the negotiation table, focus on appealing solely to their desire.'

He closes his eyes as he sits down.  The back and forth, the straight-up shortsightedness of the person talking...but the weight he held was unmistakable.  

So he calmly lowers his gaze and attempts to use his abilities to look into the heads of others, specifically those across the table from them.  A mixture of scans and a slightly more forceful push with his magical abilities to look at what they really were wanting to say.

What motivated them?  What did they really want?  What did they get from waiting for the end of the world?  What is /their actual desire/?
Angela "Yeah, but these guys have only been at it a few years before signing up so I have to be realistic about my expectations." Gebura says. "I'm here to be their leash but if that's not enough you've got my permission to do what you want with 'em. That'll be my way of apologizing."

Nonon's troubling smile fades just a little as the message finally lodges into her brain.

Gebura doesn't seem to quite understand what Lilian is getting at in specifics but gets enough of a general idea at least. "Alright. Maybe it'll be motivating. Manager's decided to work with you guys anyway so there's no need to get in each other's way."

"Oh!" Nonon brightens. "A Color is one of the top Fixers--"

"Nonon..." Gebura says. "That's not mission relevant chatter."

Nonon seems disappointed but quiets down. Shajo pats her on the arm but doesn't argue.

The team doesn't seem to be too impressed with the old guy suggesting that due to rust they should just embrace extinction in thirty years but they don't immediately start talking shit. Gebura is watching.

What they do instead is flank Lilian. Nonon crosses her arms, her large golden gloves on display. Shajo remains mild in stance (he even left the axe behind) but his expression is stern. Their postures suggest they are comfortable with picking fights, surviving fights, and winning fights but they say nothing threatening at all, they just let their existence near Lilian augment her air of authority--sometimes you hire the big tough guys to look tough so people consider why the tough guys are listening to young lady between 'em.

Gebura's gaze settles on Clark Miller, frowning (she was always frowning, but it seems slightly deeper as she keeps an eye on him.)
Rita Ma      Ishirou finds the obvious: the politicians of Floating City New York are rich, complacent, and don't really want to believe anything bad will happen to them personally.

     They're subconsciously aware of a crucial fact: not everyone is in the same boat. When the apocalypse comes, it always comes for poor people first. Their grandparents were able to use wealth and privilege to survive one 'end of the world' effectively unscathed already. Why shouldn't they be able to ride this one out, too?

     Some of them are beginning to have the nagging fear that they're wrong. But it's easy to suppress that fear with cognitive dissonance if it means they don't have to give up anything, themselves.
Redshift Operators     The gruff leader of the Redshifts is falling into place near Bota. There's some hands clenching. One can tell: he has a lot he wants to say. He has a *lot* he wants to say. He's grinding his teeth. He's keeping it under his hardsuit helmet, though. "Missing *so much* history, these fucking idiots..." He mutters tensely.

    He's going to wait, though. Just for now. He's watching the party to get a good feel for when it'll be okay for him to do... what he *should* do, probably. Not what he wants to do. What he wants to do is write a manifesto, do a lot of shootings, and plant a bomb, then end up at the top of various lists. But what he actually *should* do is try to engage with this problem with an eye for getting needed resources at a dire time.

    Ishirou reporting this gives him the start of it. He decides he'll charge it up, and follow the lead of the first to charge into things. But he signals intent to say plenty, if one looks at him clicking the voice feed on his helmet on and off.
Hibiki Tachibana     Hibiki has heard that term before. 'Color'. She didn't think to ask too deeply into it, when it was brought up with a whole bunch of other Capitalized Words, but her head perks up a little bit towards the team when Nonon begins explaining. But...right.

    That's something to leave for later. Maybe she'll ask Angela later, if Lilian doesn't do it first.

...

    The point of the debate they walk in on is...frustrating. Even for someone who doesn't understand politics in the least, it's frustrating. The older man speaking clearly has plenty of sway, but--...just like they guessed, to the surprise of not even her, they're only concerned about themselves.

    Their own safety. Their future. Their lives. Only care about y--

    Hibiki shakes her head, although it's really just to herself. This isn't the time for her problems. This isn't the time to lose her cool either--although she probably won't. Yet, at the very least. It's not the same as last time, even if Clark Miller really is right there with that horrendous smile.

    Still. Her exhale comes heavier than it otherwise would, settling in close to Bota right alongside Red Dwarf. There's a lot on her mind - but right now, it's not the time to speak up, and she couldn't influence anything just by presence alone the same way the Disciplinary Team can even if she wanted to. So she'll wait, and listen. For now.
Kukuru "It's a ways off, but it's important to know this kinda stuff ahead of time." Kukuru replies to Shajo with a nod of her own, closing her eyes for another moment. "For something this big... You don't wanna have anyone going in unprepared. But after..."

She looks over at Hibiki and Meika, looking briefly concerned before shifting into a calming-ish smile and stepping over briefly to give them gentle pats on the shoulders. "It'll be okay. We know what we're doing."

She has to say that to reassure herself, too. If nothing else, Kukuru is dressed for the part, and she even straightens up her stance a bit more by the time the doors open up. All that shouting is a little worrying, but it doesn't jar Kukuru nearly as much as seeing the sheer divide between the representatives from New York and those from what Kukuru can only surmise is... Well.

Literally the rest of the world. So few people, in charge of the lives of so many. The scale of just how few people are left hasn't gotten any easier to swallow, and it's much harder to ignore with her usual vapid thought processes after Huorong leads everyone to that side of the table. It's only made worse when she sees that punchable faced Clark among those standing in for New York, and there's that constant nagging feeling in the back of her mind of how satisfying it would be to just head right over there and-

Stop it. They're counting on me not to make this worse. Easing that white knuckled grip on nothing, Kukuru takes another deep breath to steady herself while her nanites patch up that little hole in her palm from digging in too deep. It gives her some time to listen to the older authority figure, at least, but an answer to his question actually comes fairly quickly to her.

She just needs to make sure it sounds good. Nonon and Shajo flanking Lilian means she doesn't have to worry about her looking and sounding more authoritative than she already would, but what if I make it worse? Rita's family is here, and even if she and Lilian aren't my kids-

That's what she needs to ask. What she wants to ask. Uncertainty still plagues her, but it's the strongest thing she can think of asking about right now. She looks over at her companions again, then bites down on the insides of her lips lightly to keep herself from just blurting something out before they're given the floor.
Meika Kirenai     Meika blinks, faint surprise at the offered hand, but takes it. Her return shake is surprisingly strong- not supernaturally so, however, but mismatching her discomfort. The offer of the out elicits a small glare. But she raises her head ever so slightly higher. Rough's fine. I can handle rough. Don't count me out of it.

    The cacophany behind the now-opening doors hits Meika like a brick. Angry voices and faces of powerful people, bickering and yelling. She grits her teeth and doesn't bother to mask the scowl that comes across her face. Every word is loud, echoing around as they are.

    They don't care at all, do they? That's worse than the ones who simply can't. Meika sits herself down in a chair, and leans back. Her posture might fool someone into thinking she's relaxed, but nothing about her expression is nothing of the sort.

    Playing nice means playing passive, and speaking up would hardly matter. She's just a kid in a room full of authority. Her efforts are doomed simply for the fact of whose mouth they'd stem from. No matter how much she wants to try and help, the good and proper way, a bitter taste fills her mouth.

    So, instead, Meika just listens, deep, trying to hear out flickers of worry that rise to the front of crowd member's thoughts. She tries to follow the louder ones, of fears and worries and vulnerabilities, or gut reactions to new topics, that have been narrowly pushed down from being spoken into existance. If she can pass off that information, maybe someone else can use it as leverage. They're making it so loud, anyways...

    A faint whisper, audible only to her offworld teammates, slips past her barely-moving lips. "...I'll try to fish for some information. Sore spots, maybe. Can let you know if something's hitting them better, maybe." She's never done much explaining of her capacities to her allies, much less the other factions, but she very much hopes nobody questions her on it.
Lilian Rook     'It's never a badge of 'power', you know. It's a badge of hard work.'

    A ghost of a smile flickers on Lilian's lips. "Blooming is the final stage of growth. The end result is beautiful, but nobody ever gives enough mind to the branches and the trunk that came before it." Her attention wanders away. "I feel like I've worked hard enough. But maybe that I still don't deserve it."

    The doors open. Lilian's eyes track left to the glittering aesthetic rizz on display, and the unwashed masses segregated to the right. She looks down the length of the polished table, straight down the obvious divide of who is allowed to speak, whose lives matter, and whose don't, and she thinks:

    §Oh thank god. It's exactly like what I'm used to.§

    Despite how much some hypothetical observer might want to scoff at wearing heels to a rusting ship-city like this, the extra inches serve Lilian precisely as she means them to when she enters the room, flanked by menacing flunkies on either side; they put her head and shoulders well above the heads of the seated representatives, as her steps steadily click, click, click, click across the room. A pervasive sense of hushed gravity follows in each footstep, as if the space between her and the backs of chairs, barely a foot away, is the entire length of a vast and liminal hall.

    Her path slowly takes her all the way to the end of the table, just so that, as she passes, everyone can see the bottleglass cold in her eyes, the thin scar on her face, and the tattoo design in the back window of her top, before she doubles back halfway to center, and folds her arms low across her chest, just subtly tight enough to make softly defined muscle stand out.

    She'd worn armour and carried her weapon to meet the Harpoonists. Now she's wearing her best summer 'business casual', in mulberry silk and vicuna, understated yet inevitably visible gold stitching at her throat matching the lily pin in her hair. Putting on a proper suit would put her on New York's level. Putting on a dress would lower her standing. The idea that she could casually outdress them, but still has places to be, is a narrow edge to ride.

    "Good evening, Gentlemen." punctures the back and forth clamour with supernatural ease. All at once, the exhausted wandering is gone from Lilian's voice, and the resonant edge that comes across in lecture halls and on battlefields comes out. "And thank you for meeting at this late hour. I'm certain all of us would prefer to settle this matter quickly, as we all need our rest." Backhanded reminder. She knows they know she knows. "We'll all be very busy shortly." Implication. Confidence. A subtle weight suggests that she's right.
Lilian Rook     "As I'm certain you can imagine, we wouldn't trouble a bastion of humanity so crucial as New York so casually. As the highest arbiters here, the matter wouldn't be brought to your attention at all, if it were so menial and irrelevant as rust." Superficial pandering. An acknowledgement of where they stand, and the implicit pressure to act like it. Flattering denial of their mediocre deflections. "The nest, I'm afraid, is fact. As is the impending eruption. Nobody would sail all this way simply to harass you with supposition and theory. Let is dispense with any doubt that your time is being used as respectfully as it deserves." Silent, high expectations to prove they deserve it. We've put a lot more into getting here than you have. "We've verified these facts with multiple top-level scientific inquiries, to be absolutely certain." A veiled dare. Do you even have scientists? Have they studied this at all? Men in suits like this don't like to argue against science, even if they don't believe in it.

    "I apologize if you've been given a partial or unclear idea from these haphazard negotiations thusfar," An opportunity to duck heat and save face, without throwing any allies under the bus in particular; let them interpret it as New York's fault for being 'haphazard'. "but what we're speaking of isn't just the imminent end of the human race;" They won't believe anything that scary. "It is the stark divide between a future in which every ship crumbles to pieces, and an unprecedented opportunity to reclaim things thought lost to mankind forever." Phrasing it as a choice; men in suits love it when you present two options for them to choose between. Mankind, not humankind. I know how men work.

    Lilian glances to Clark, then past him. She leans forward, pushing aside two chairs to put her hands on the table; she's still eye level with some. Forward posture. Aggressive taking up of neutral territory. Flirting with the line. "An eruption guarantees an indeterminate, yet assuredly, lengthy period, of hard times never before seen since this planet drowned in water. A tenfold proliferation in leviathans doesn't simply mean an increased rate of monster attacks and Harpoonist casualties; those leviathans will come directly from the oceanic species that already exist." Lead in. Answer what that means.

    "Missing sea life causes food supplies for workers dry up, which translates into supply shortage above, compounded by low sunlight collapsing the farming industry on the higher decks. Diving for fuel and salvage becomes next to impossible in most territories; we'll all be forced to tighten our respective belts as a result. Projected casualties indicate lengthy and expensive training programs will need to be undertaken to replace Harpoonist losses every time a ship-city must relocate for trade. New York's will have to be taken out of the policing force." 'Death' isn't a scary word. 'Tighten belts' is. Trade matters to them. No cops means riots. Revolution, possibly, and that's the scariest of all.

    "Though there is less immediate risk in preparing for this eventuality, my expert opinion is that this cannot possibly be financially sustainable, even for the next ten years." Stick to 'we'. Don't separate out New York. Money is the object. "It is my belief that now is the time for following in the footsteps of those previous generations of great men who made their fortunes from taking on bolder risks," God it's like a board meeting. "given the tremendous rewards we all stand to gain from eliminating the nest, and the Queen." Now, the point blank shot.
Lilian Rook     "Our strong projection indicates that adequate bombardment of the leviathan nest should greatly destabilize the previously balanced territorial borders and reproductive cycles of the leviathans that have hold for centuries thusfar, under the direction of their species' queen bee." You know. Bees. From gardens. Like the upper decks have. A special comparison, just for you. "I'm certain I need not explain to educated men why the absence of a colony's director results in the breakdown of order and hierarchy." They probably don't know a single thing about eusocial insects, but they can get away with pretending. Dogwhistle to authority and hierarchy. Inflate their importance while placing us on mutual level.

    "Given that this operation must be undertaken in a little over five months, we should begin seeing the decay of the leviathans' stranglehold over the ocean in earnest inside of the decade. That means that previously inaccessible salvage sites will become viable for speculation and exploitation. Marine resources will upswing in availability, driving down the cost of maintenance for both the ships and the workers. Longer trade routes become accessible, opening up the number of accessible lanes. Lowered casualties from attacks will result in more supply than demand for skilled labour. Lowered Harpoonist attrition will allow for a strengthened police force." All the things you oily American fucks love.

    Lilian stands up again, opening up her palms, reducing the threat in her profile. And yet the cold edge in her voice; the subtly devil may care twist to her lips; invites no contradiction. "Given the difference in capital we stand to lose and gain between these two eventualities, I'd think that the most viable use of illiquid assets at our disposal-- especially New York's otherwise non-fungible explosives-- and the human resources we stand to lose anyways-- primarily harpoonist and combat maintenance personnel-- is quite clear."

    "My apologies, again, if you were mislead about the situation prior to our arrival. It's important that we discuss these things. My associates and I, of course, simply won't be capable of bearing this expenditure with our combined resources. This venture requires New York's considerable capital, added to our own, to be viable. Otherwise, the choice will be made for us in twenty two weeks." It's hard to tell whether that smile is supposed to be knowing, conspiratorial, or chillingly one-sided.
Candy      Candy thumbs the lapels of his brown tweed blazer. Clark gets an inadvisable, but plausibly deniable two-fingered salute. The kind that could be construed as friendly or respectful, but really means 'come and get it.'

     The farmer's normally-unbuttoned shirt is not only all the way closed at the collar, but there adorned with an olive bow tie and matching vest. His dark hair is neatly tied behind him with a short, simple black ribbon.

     Already, by the time he has taken a seat beside Ishirou, there is something that tests the promise he made, moments ago, to 'be good.' Candy's fingers clutch at the fabric of his simple dress slacks, fabric bunching beneath them.

*What would Lilian say, to that shit? ... Probably not even bother pointing out this guy's a dumbass. And then do that thing she does, where she acts like whatever she's saying is so obvious you could look out the window and see it.*

Without hosssstility.

     A glance to his right, and a nod at Ishirou, who looks as though he's going through the same or similar sort of mental rundown. He smiles, weakly, and his fingers uncurl.

     Candy clears his throat. "My name's Candelario Maria Estevez de la Fuente. 'Mr. Estevez' is fine if you wanna be formal, 'Candelario' or 'Candy' if not. Don't matter much to me. You're already plenty busy, and like Dame Rook said--" They look like they appreciate lofty titles. "--You're about to be busier. So let me get to the point."

     "What this eruption means for you is *months,* not years. New York holds, but these things don't go after the city that holds the best first. See, you're treating them like rats."

     The farmer shakes his head. "Rats don't got queens. They don't got, ah, little rat generals. A rat don't know, can't know, the reputation of whatever larder it's sneaking into. You're not up against rust, or an infestation. You're up against an army, that knows more about you than you think. I met their queen, and she ain't going to *give* you no thirty years. She talks, and she thinks, and Mister, she's *smart.* When she talks about humans, she talks like everything is settled and we just ain't seen the pieces falling into place yet."

     Candy clasps his hands before him. "You'll be lucky if you get five years. She's gonna start with the smallest and work her way up, 'til there ain't nobody left *but* you, and you gotta put up with the ones from this world and the ones coming in from *other* places. 'Pricy' won't even begin to describe it." Maybe work in a little of what Lilian was getting at.

     Candy pauses, to let it sink in. Throughout this, his tone is neutral, calm and collected. Almost businesslike, because it's hard, but ssssshe wouldn't let it get to her. "The good news is, you got a chance if you stick together, which is why she's been trying to pick the cities off one by one. She knows that, too."

     "And the better news is, five months, that is a *lot* of time for people like us. Take me, for instance. You put me with your work crews, we will have it looking like it did when this thing was first built," he says, then pointing beneath him. "Not just repairs, either. Food. Brand new weapons and gear for the harpoonists. Whatever New York needs that's not 'more people,' I cover, out of my own pocket, as much as I can, no, ah..." What's a phrase Lilian would use? "Return of investment necessary." He again indicates himself, palm flat over his chest this time. "I even made some bombs that work without putting the ships at risk--you don't believe me, you ask one of these two handsome young men what I did for Union Busan," he says, nodding sideways at Bota and Huorong in turn.

     "Either way, this nest, like Dame Rook said, it costs you a lot more to ignore than it will to fix." He sits down, palms pressed flat on his pants to stop his hands from shaking.
Rita Ma      There's no way that Miller should be able to take notice of Gebura's stare. They're at least thirty feet apart, and she's a little figure on a tablet. But some instinct draws his cold blue eyes to her, and they linger until Lilian draws his attention away.

     Bota, like Candy, is angry enough to shake a little; like Candy, he knows better than to blow his top just yet. Unfortunately, he can't stop time to cool off. He leans forward, hands squeezing together until his knuckles turn white. "Are they really just going to give up on having a future? I can't believe-" "Bota." Huorong puts a hand on his knee. "I know, I know, but..."

     Fortunately, Lilian and Candy take the lead more gracefully than he was about to. Meika can sense that they don't really fear for their lives; they're too insulated for personal danger to feel real. But loss of profits, loss of luxury, loss of influence- those are things they can conceive of. Candy offers them a carrot, and Lilian threatens them with the stick.

     The New York side falls to quiet as they struggle to digest it. The old man who'd spoken before quietly smolders, but the momentum of his own side isn't behind him now.

     "Not that I think it's mere supposition," a Beninese woman from the row behind says- she's dressed brightly, but her demeanor is hardened- "but how do we know there is such a Queen?" "What? But we all-!" "Let me finish."

     She pushes herself up to standing, turning to address both sides of the assembly. "The proposed plan involves committing our full military force and extending it to the limit. We'd be pushing hundreds of miles into hostile territory. Any hope of survival afterwards hinges on the idea that the leviathans will collapse completely after we destroy the nest and kill the Queen. But will they? What if there is no lynchpin, and we're left completely defenseless?"

     That sets the room into commotion again. The old man seizes his chance. "She's right! The only evidence we have of that is the Union Busan's word. And where did they hear it from?" Bota stands too, despite Huorong putting a hand on his arm. "Rita, but- even if there weren't one, she could--" A younger politician from New York cuts in: "And how can we trust her? Isn't she the infected child? I bet she's just one of them!"

     Miller crosses his legs and props his cheek up on his fist, clearly entertained. When he raises his eyebrows knowingly, it's an offer. He'd said he wanted blood, last time.
Lilian Rook     'Let me finish.'

    Lilian's spine almost imperceptibly stiffens. Recognition and old habits.

    'But will they?'
    'What if there is no lynchpin, and we're left completely defenseless?'
    'The only evidence we have of that is the Union Busan's word.'
    'And where did they hear it from?'
    'And how can we trust her?'
    'I bet she's just one of them!'

    Partway into the rabble-rousing, Lilian blinks, and notices that her gaze has drifted away onto the old man's cane. Her jaw is clenched. Work it free. Look up. But inside, under the face worn over her face--

    §Yeah. Call me a liar. You always do, when you can't accept something. Find a way to blame it on me and make something up. I'm used to it.§

<J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "I can display the footage."
<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "Clarify. The last time you displayed footage it was gore to a teenager."
<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "Do it."
<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "But cut out the part where she'll trade for Rita's life."
<J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "Roger."
<J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "We're not telling a board room of these people that for the low low price of one child, Omelas remain a paradise."

    Lilian does her best to look past Clark without meeting his eyes. He already knows too much about me. "I must admit I'm deeply disappointed by this behaviour." she says instead. "I had thought the facts would stand for themselves. Indeed, for a moment, it'd seemed that your own better judgement had agreed. Please don't second guess yourselves in this matter; we can't have men and women of your standing lead astray by transparent ploys and lack of confidence."

    She snaps her fingers. A signal to show the video, without asking. Power play. "I'm afraid that the longer this drags on, the less charitably inclined I will be to discussing terms."
Candy      Time stops, shortly after 'just one of.' 'Them' is implied, on the younger politician's face. On the way Clark's insufferable smile is writ on his. Candy's 'friend' doesn't need to let the rest of the second pass--because he knows, before Candy consciously does. The farmer stands up from his seat, quickly but quietly.

*Fuck you, you greasy little pinhead. You shithead yankee, you're lucky I don't slap your goddamn face off. Yours and that needle-dick harpoonist. ...thanks, Coyotl.*

For good measure, Candy angrily lays his left arm across the inside of the right, extending his right middle finger vigorously at the frozen politician.

     The wahy doesn't respond--but the array of faces, frozen into explosive discourse, Ishirou halted mid-rise from his chair, is proof enough that he listened. Only Bota and Hibiki are unfrozen, because he estimates they're the two that would most need a moment, besides him. With his index held to his lips, indicating 'shh,' he gives them both that moment--after, of course, his crude gesture, and a silently mouthed tirade.

     Time resumes, and Candy is back in his seat, just in time for Ishirou to show the footage. His fists grip the lapels of his tweed blazer tightly.
Ishirou Ishirou hates what he's learned, but he... he knew this already, somehow.  It's some disgusting thing that's wormed its way into humanity.  People will say 'But that's just human nature' and that 'if things were on the other foot it'd be the same.'  Sitting next to Candy, his gaze doesn't come up, not one bit.

He does, carefully, squeeze his hand.  He's in pain, he doesn't want to be here, he hates this... but he knows the same is for Candy too.  

When the interruption happens, when the demands for proof happen...he stands up.  He takes but a moment to start editing the information, and he looks at POD.  "POD, display memory of the salvage operation where we met the Queen."

A holographic screen is projected by POD, which starts to play the scene.

--------------------

    
Ishirou "You humans..."

    The faintly glowing girl stands in the middle of the residential block, out in the open. Her voice is perfectly realistic, which makes the words all the more incongruous. If she's noticed that any of the group aren't human, she doesn't seem to care. Up close, it seems she's wearing a locket around her neck.

     "Why do you help each other, even across the boundaries of worlds? I wanted to ask you that. Is it because you, too, desire to have one kingdom and one queen?"

    Even though the question was spoken under her breath, long hallways away, the figure still answers Tamamo. "Is it we who trespass, or are you another interloper?"

     "You trespassed when you sank beneath the waves."

------------------------
Ishirou The video cuts ahead, removing the initial responses to her, as well as her first offer for 'peace'.  It wasn't peace, it was an eventual destruction of humanity, just over a far greater length of time.  These people would not care, so instead he continues.
Ishirou "I am the Queen of this world, though this is merely a fragment of my being. Humanity still exists because I have had mercy. My ingredient inclines me to. You have seen how tenuous is their existence. Do you not think I could destroy them with a single command?"

    "Even now, they think to make war against me as if we were equals."

    Candy's water jets unceremoniously punch holes through the Queen's torso and head. The illusion of the hive, and her regal appearance, fade. What's left behind is a writhing mass of gray-pink flesh, shrinking back down into goopy uncanny humanoid shape. "Extinction it is," the creature rasps.

    It extrudes an impossible volume of anemone-like spikes from its flesh, each one extending across the room, cutting through sheet-metal buildings, and embedding deeply in the steel superstructure.

    The first volley is bad enough. The second volley would be even harder to dodge, thanks to the first thicket of spikes inhibiting movement- but Ishirou disrupts the puppet's coordination. The creature is effectively "remote-controlled", making it all the more susceptible to bio-hacking.

    Cantio's sword-boomerang, too, slices deeply into its flesh, nearly bisecting the creature's torso and spilling ample blood. A messenger body like this falls well short of a proper 'boss encounter'.

    As a last-ditch measure, its body begins to roil and seethe with unwholesome energies from within. They bubble its flesh and shine up from the back of its throat, desperate for an exit. "I am done with you," it hisses. "Begone."
Ishirou He cuts the footage there but also displays other data.  "I detected a presence in the psycho-space of the leviathans each time they attacked directedly.  There was a presence there, holding back and watching, but definitely directing them."

"With the source of this presence gone, it would have lost an intelligent, directing force.  It would cause the remaining Leviathans to fall back to base instincts, allowing for their destruction and humanity's reclaiming of the world."

He also displays the information on when he disrupted the control over the puppet she used to communicate with them.  "It's possible, it's necessary, and it will work."
Angela Gebura eventually looks away. Kind of. She is on a tablet and there's only so much she can do that without taking her eyes off of the proceedings. Shajo shifts her gaze back towards Lilian as she takes the floor but he senses something in Bota and places a hand on his shoulder.

"They don't care 'bout how you suffered or your rage." He murmurs. "Don't let it work for them, make it work for you."

It's just some friendly advice from a Fixer. Bota can see the scars on his hands, his wrists. An understanding but worn look in his eyes. There's a similar rage brewing within him, he used to be the kind of guy who lashed out as easily as Nonon or anyone. But he has learned some lessons and only some of them are being pounded into him by Gebura. The rest of it was life. He's shown his rage before and it only blew back into him. So he's learned to be more careful about when to wield that particular axe. He put away that bloody axe of his a little too easily for a mere brute.

Nonon literally just continues to flex behind Lilian. Her shoulders tighten when a younger politician pipes in about not being able to trust Rita--but she remembers Gebura's words and eases back down. Any telepath can read that she'd love nothing more than to just punch these people into a fine red paste but the fact that she doesn't...

That's the power of Gebura's leash.

Gebura isn't too worried about these fools. If Lilian could break into Lobotomy Corp, she can tell these people what's up without needing them to act as backup choir.

That is until Lilian says the phrase, 'the less charitably inclined I will be to discussing terms'. There's a signal there.

Nonon steps forward (still behind Lilian, but closer to her) and radiates menace (low). She's still smiling. Her eyes are still wide and happy. But she stopped crossing her arms. Her fingers extend for a moment then curl inward. Those rich fucks are real close. But she says nothing, does nothing untoward. This is just a sign that they'll do whatever Lilian wants. Nonon doesn't even look at Ishirou's screen.

Shajo does, however, adjusting his glasses again. Ocular proof. He focuses real good on the footage.
Redshift Operators     "Plug your ears for this next part, I'm gonna do a lot of lying, man." A certain gruff bastard nudges Bota briefly. Then he stands up.

    "Hey!" He calls out, stomping a boot obnoxiously against the top of the row he's behind. "You know what? You're fucking right, what *does* guarantee this would work? You spend all your military force, and there's still some Devils and Leviathans left, what then? Fuckin', fine, I'll *tell* you."

    He jabs a thumb at himself. "Name's Red Dwarf, I run the Redshift Operators. We're experts on collapsing big-ass enemy forces like that. You want a guarantee? You're right, Rita's *one of them*. They're gonna listen to her. They're gonna follow her because if you kill the Queen they've got nobody left, and she'll be a trade up from the end of the world."

    He shoots an absolutely fucking vicious dagger of a look at Clark Miller. "I heard even the *hero of New York*, the guy who just killed Skutoom, he put a decent priority on killing her, exactly 'cause of something like that. Isn't that right? Come on, Miller." He says it like a swear word. "Let's hear how much a monster she is. Don't you think she's so much of one, there's a good chance she'll slot in for that goddamn Queen at the end? Well, this is a big room of people who know when to cut costs and settle for less-than-ideal. How's a guarantee of getting by, through firing the old boss and replacing her with someone who's not gonna be so much of a threat, if you can't manage to kill her?"

    He shoots the most viciously expectant look at Clark Miller. Yeah, yuck it up you piece of shit. I may be a little insecure, but I'll prostrate myself *again* to the lord of New York if it means saving the world. You want this war too, fucker. But Red Dwarf does immediately turn back to Bota and instantly say, "Fffffuck that felt filthy. I'm so sorry. Ugh. Ugh."
Kukuru Lilian and Candy put those points forward far better than Kukuru could even hope to, and there's a sense of relief that washes over her when she sees the reaction from the New York table. Sadly, that relief doesn't last long as someone from Union Benin throws a wrench into things that the rest of the congregation is all too willing to jump on, and the job to convince everyone becomes just that extra bit harder.

Thankfully, there's a plan in the works with some footage from Ishirou about the Queen, and that lets Kukuru instead consider what else is and isn't being said. Unfortunately, the notion that these people might very well sell out Rita to save their own skins...

<J-IC-Scene> Kukuru says, "They wouldn't really... Would they?"
<J-IC-Scene> Meika Kirenai says, "That's-"
<J-IC-Scene> Redshift Operators | Red Dwarf says, "They do it every day."
<J-IC-Scene> Redshift Operators | Red Dwarf says, "Noticed how the city below the line looks like shit, and the city above the line shines like a mirror? They've been practicing, they've made a machine out of it."
<J-IC-Scene> Meika Kirenai makes a noise between a sigh and a yawn. "I hope... this all works out..."
<J-IC-Scene> Kukuru says, audibly straining to sound normal "R... Right."
<J-IC-Scene> Gebura says, "If they're willing to give up their plan for one kid, that kid has gotta be more valuable than the end of the world."
<J-IC-Scene> Hibiki Tachibana says, "People are like...this with each other, a lot more than...they should be."

It's a good thing Kukuru's hands are under the table, because the mere thought of it is enough to have that white-knuckled grip going on again. What if they did find out? What if they really did end up calling for that? Could they really be so terrible?

Hopefully, she'll never have to actually find out the answer. Instead, Kukuru distracts herself by watching that footage, studying the creature's appearance and redirecting her ire towards the more direct threat towards these people. As long as she remembers that it's about their homes and not someone she's personally invested in, it might be easier to focus.

After the footage ends and Ishirou speaks, Kukuru too finally speaks up. "Do any of you have kids?" She looks over at the rep from Union Benin that had spoken up moments ago. There's a sudden clarity in her tone and her expression, and that uncertainty from before... Well, it's still there, but she's doing a pretty good job at hiding it from her face.

"Kids, grandkids? Or... Do you wanna have them some day?" Kukuru's gaze goes to the older figure at New York's table next, then the rest of the group gathered for the meeting (especially the younger-ish ones) (but not Clark) (she really doesn't like Clark or his face).  "Because if we don't stop this problem now when we still have the chance, they're gonna be in even more danger later when-" She gestures towards Lilian and Candy. "-everything they've already said starts happening five months from now. We're strong enough to handle anything that comes for our homes, but are you?"

She stands up finally, glancing downwards at the table in front of her and moving her hand about arm's length towards the center. She casually pushes her fingers right through the table with her freakish strength, then pries that whole part of the table off like she's picking two pieces of bread off each other. "We're strong enough to protect our own homes, but... I dunno how many people from here we'd be able to help anyone here if things get that bad."

Weirdly enough, Red Dwarf namedropping Rita actually draws out an inadvertent giggle from Kukuru. She quickly goes right back to her serious expression afterwards, but it doesn't take the amused noise back.
Candy      Candy lays a reassuring hand on Ishirou's thigh, when he sits back down. "Thanks for, ah... you know." For not including her 'bargain' *or* his response, save the water jets. It was justifiable, perhaps--but human emotion is not the kind of thing that these sorts of people respect.

    When Bota is asked to plug his ears, Candy can't. It'd be too conspicuous. So would an illusion, in this place where so many eyes are on him, scrutinizing, taking his measure, weighing how seriously they should take him. His face is a stone mask, and the fabric on his lapels creaks audibly beneath his fists. When Red Dwarf is finished, Candy smooths out the wrinkles his grip pressed into the blazer.

    "...'Interesting' approach," he says with an audible tremor in his voice. But it says something about these people that he can't exactly say he believes it won't be *effective* on them.

*I can't wait to be out of this fucking place.*
Meika Kirenai     Poked and prodded-at sensetivities won't do much more here than exactly the sort of persuasion Lilian and Candy are already working at, so Meika stays quiet, even to her team. Part of her hopes they'll forget she said anything in the first place. It's impressive to watch those with the experience cut through the masses, though, but not in the way that makes it easy to smile at.

    Meika's voice on its own may be worth less than dirt here, but only when it comes from her- and that's got leeway. The played-out clip is a wonderful opportunity for eyes to not be on her mouth and other voices to be hushed, so she gets to work trying to alter their chances. It's less passive than simply listening, but still just simple nudging. Whispered comments to whatever politician her gaze crosses carry faint affirmations and acknowledgements, and Meika is quick to try and remind them it's not her who spoke up, but probably one of their colluegues, or an acquaintence, just over their shoulders. Little thoughts and comments to trick the powerful figures that it might not just be them having any thoughts of heeding the Union Busan's case- or make them feel slightly more alone for not doing so. Greasing the wheels, she hopes.

    Her own fingernails grip into the fabric of her skirt, where she's found herself seated. When Red Dwarf speaks up, she stays listening, and the pit of her stomach falls out at the way he talks. What does that mean...? But Rita's... She squints her eyes closed, and promises herself this meeting will be over soon. It really does feel sickening to sit by.
Hibiki Tachibana     Lilian really does have a special power to always make herself sound like she's the most correct and right thing in the world. It's come to her mind more, ever since...everything with Petra, but even before then too. She's always felt impossible to argue with. Maybe that's why...

    ...no. Not right now. Candy is really impressive in his own right, too. The fact he /can/ go up there and talk about his points like this, after everything--she really is kind of jealous. Well, jealous again. That can't be easy at all. Red Dwarf is feeling the strain too, and she feels like she should do something given how he went up to bat for her before, too.

    But it's taking her a lot of effort to willingly keep herself quiet. There's a reason she's never been great at negotiations like this. It's impossible for her to think in terms of all these details and talking around - just people who need help. It's not something Hibiki Tachibana can do. Especially not when half the room is ready to give up on the future to feel 'safe' now.

    Which is why she finds herself that little bit more tense when the woman speaks up, even with Kukuru's reassuring pats. To her, it already feels like things are reverting to square one, or maybe worse, if they're going to call them out on something that seemed as obvious as the Queen's existence. Something that Rita told them.

    She's not the infected child, she's one of the kindest people she knows, who can't even come home because people exactly like them can't understand--

    Everything stops, and Hibiki goes from digging her tight grip into her jacket's bottom to blinking in surprise untiil she realizes why. With only Candy and Bota unmoving...

    She only narrowly stops herself from stomping a foot down on the floor, remembering how Candy's time shenanigans work when they cut out. This /sucks/! You shouldn't even have to /tell/ them, Bota! I know so many of these guys even have to have kids and families of their own! So why--how can they not want to do anything they can to protect the future!? This is the end of the world! It's not some kind of game!

    Which makes her feel that much more bad about how things went last time. Which is only part of what leads to her only barely starting to pace over - Clark Miller's seat? The politician's? - with her right fist clenched and lifted higher than it should - but she knows she can't actually do anything. I want to tell them all how wrong they are to their faces, but I can't! Rita deserves better than that! Her world and the people she cares about deserve better than this! And she deserved--deserves better than this crap being piled on her when--!

    By the time that given moment is over, Hibiki is back in her original position, eyes shut and shoulders sagging. A few muted footsteps and a fist wooshing through open air won't be noticed in a room this loud.

    Neither will the sound of her hissing through her teeth at Red Dwarf's play. But at least now she won't go off unduly on him, just for doing what he thinks he has to do. She knows that. ...This is the absolute worst.
Rita Ma      ----

     Bota is surprised, but not shocked, when Candy invites him into stopped time- it's his second time, after all. He turns towards his chair and slumps with his hands on the top of its back, hanging his head with an explosive sigh. "Ghhh. Thanks, Candy. And I'm sorry, Hibiki. I knew it'd be bad, but not this bad. Feels like I'm getting torn apart."

     He walks over, too, to where Hibiki is; he doesn't try to stop her from taking the swing, knowing full well she can stop herself. But it's worth just being there for her, to commiserate with her frustration.

     "How do either of you do it? I'm used to holding none of the cards, or most of them. Not... this. Whatever this is." He runs his fingers through his hair restlessly, then shakes his head. "I guess I don't have to be good at it. You guys are doing great. Both of you. I just have to not do anything stupid, with them talking about Rita like that."

     ----

     The footage casts a terrified hush over the assembly. Even the old man in New York's front row grips his cane hard enough that it quivers. Clark is the only one not to blanch, but even he's wide-eyed and enthralled- 'hungry' might be the word. Nobody thinks to question that it might be edited; the visceral fear exuded by the grotesque Queen is just too real.

     Bota is transfixed in horror. It's his first time hearing the Queen too. "That's what happened on the Notre Dame?!"

     "I- yes, I do," the brightly-dressed woman says to Kukuru. Even some people on the New York side nod- though a distressingly small number of them. The population can't possibly be demographically stable. A gasp passes around the room when Kukuru mangles the table; the Beninese representative dry-swallows.

     "... Benin withdraws its objection," she finally says. She sits down crisply, but there was a quaver in her voice. "We are in favor of the operation." None of her compatriots find the will to object.

     That hush gives ample room for Meika's whispers and Red Dwarf's speech. The former has the New York politicians sometimes nodding subconsciously, sometimes stealing little glances at their colleagues, always a little bit softened up.

     The latter has both Bota and Clark tensing up. Bota digs his fingers into his knees, dropping his gaze to the floor; he knows what Red Dwarf's driving at, and just needs to grit his teeth through the splash damage.

     Clark, on the other hand, uncrosses his arms and leans forward, his expression unwholesomely darkened. Finally, he stands up, the metal heels of his suit clacking hard against the floor. "He's right," he says, and though he barely raises his voice, all of New York strains to hear.
Rita Ma      "We've heard rumors about when the Union Busan was attacked by Wormtooka, two years ago. Rita showed the ability to control sea monsters then. I trust the Union Busan's delegation won't deny that?" He looks straight at Bota, who glowers, but stays silent. Clark smirks. "Given that there is such a thing as a 'Queen', it seems likely she is a nascent one herself. I favor killing both of them."

     "But." New York hangs on his every word.

     His cold gaze slides cleanly past Nonon to Lilian. "You forget something. We are not discussing terms with you. You are discussing terms with us. And the Union Busan has an ulterior motive that the rest of the assembled parties do not share."

     His gaze turns back to Bota. The coldness has spread from his eyes to the rest of his face, now, even pushing out the smirk. "It's not just about the end of the world for you. She's your sister, isn't she, Bota? You want to protect her, even if that means leaving humanity at the mercy of a second Queen. How can we rally behind that?"

     Then the coup de grace. "I propose to dedicate New York's full resources to the extermination task force, and I propose for New York's harpoonists to head the unified command unilaterally."

     The room erupts. But it erupts mostly in greed. "If we're reclaiming it, then-" "-New York bears the greatest cost, so-" "-the oil fields on the Gulf Coast, and you-" "-exclusive salvage rights to-" "-then you'll have to bargain for-"

     Bota sighs and droops in his chair. There's a bit of shaky relief on his face, but mostly frustration and disgust. Under his breath: "I can't believe them. Saying those things about Rita... and all that just to angle for a larger slice of the rewards. How can anybody live just thinking like that?"
Redshift Operators     "Approach that fucking sucks." Is what the gunman himself replies to Candy. Hibiki feeling that splash damage too, that gets him badly as well. And then he sits back down, props his hands up on his knees, and starts gently bouncing his leg on strange rhythm, one he breathes in time with. Somehow, while making no sound, it pounds like a drum.

    "They won't." Is what he says, tensely. "I work in places like this. I live in places like this. I *kill* in places like this. They *won't live* just thinking like that." He peers over clasped hands, still taking those rhythmic breaths. "When we finish killing the Queen, I'm coming back to kill them for this bullshit. I've seen their city. I've seen their faces. Once we've deposed the monster who owns the leviathans, kill the monsters who own city of New York too. Step one, then step two. Can't do everything at once."

    He narrows his eyes at Clark Miller, making a hiss of disgust. "And maybe someone finally kill that piece of shit, Clark Miller."
Angela Nonon isn't a complete fool but she doesn't quite have the same eye that Gebura does. She smiles right back at Clark, this time with teeth, but even the 'loose cannon' isn't going to piss off Gebura just because the man's taking her lightly. Gebura is pretty casual in a lot of ways but for those that don't know how to look for it, you can tell by how her subordinates act in her presence.

The real loose cannon is Shajo however, to Nonon this is just being playful. And he actually says, "Oi," once he starts talking shit to Bota--

--He can feel Gebura's presence and his fingers tighten against the datapad. The disgust pools behind his eyes and he turns around once they start fucking applauding. He turns around so they can't see it. If they see it, Gebura will know. If it becomes Gebura's problem she'll make sure it's his problem more.

"Dunno man," Shajo tells Bota. "Guess even a City on the ocean is still a City in the end."

He gives a small nod to the Red Dwarf.

The loosest cannon of all (because she can afford to be) is Gebura, though, and there isn't so much as a flicker in her eyes, just a quiet gaze taking in this horror that makes man-eating monsters seem like the lesser evil.

There's always more reminders.
Candy      "The truth is," Candy murmurs to Hibiki and Bota, leaning over his chair and cupping a hand over his mouth, "It's hard. It's real fucking hard. I just keep reminding myself that I'm doing it for the people out there." For him, and Kana, and Rita. And more than a little bit, trying to be better for Lilian. "These people," he says, nodding to the squabbling delegation, "They are doing exactly what I thought they would." He turns back around, interlaces his fingers, and squeezes his hands together, letting them rest between his knees as he leans forward. It's really hard.

    Red Dwarf gets a grunt of agreement from Candy. Maybe he shouldn't. Maybe this is just putting something that's consistently been bad for him on layaway. Some kind of fucked up way of treating himself later for 'good behavior' now. *But that motherfucker is begging for it. He wants it. For me, or Hibiki, or the spaceman to jump across this aisle and break his goddamn head.*

It isssn't what ssshe would do.

*Yeah. I know. Fucking her over and throwing it in her face one time was enough for me. And it wouldn't give Ishirou no good ideas, neither.*

    "It's less shitty than what coulda happened, Bota," says Candy, sitting straight up again. Once more, he looks over his shoulder, offering cupped-mouth input. "Nobody with a working brain believes any of the shit they're saying about her. And they will never, ever find her, if she don't want to be found. Let these fucks have their little war and drool over who gets the biggest slice of what's left. We did what we came here to do."

    A glance towards Lilian, palm lowered from his mouth. "Right?" It's less asking for her to back him up with a platitude for Bota, and more asking if, in her expert opinion, we're done yet. If we can get the fuck out of here.
Kukuru Not all of them have kids, but several do. That's good enough for Kukuru to seems satisfied enough by the delegates' answers, even smiling softly at the Beninese rep when she withdraws the objection. "Thank you. I might not be your kids' mom, but... I want what's best for all of ours kids, you know? Even if it's scary now, I can fix whoever's hurt right up, so your kids'll be safe with me out there."

She gives the representatives a polite curtsey, then finally sits back down with the piece of table still resting in her lap. She's done her good work for the day, so now it's just time to -

<J-IC-Scene> Ishirou hollowly to Kukuru, "We're not, we're allies at best."

Naturally, Kukuru's raised spirits can't last for long under these circumstances. Anyone with even the slightest bit of mind-reading prowess (or even just the ability to turn their heads more than 30 degrees) could see Kukuru's heart sinking moments later. Did she fail him as a mother along the way? Sure, they haven't always seen eye to eye on everything, and he's never really said he'd accept her as one, but... It's not like anything that's happened has ever come from a place of anger or apathy. Surely he'd understand that!

Or maybe not. It certainly wouldn't be the first time someone's rejected her attempts to pull them into the family, and it probably won't be the last. Maybe there's something to that mind control ray.

Clark's response barely even registers in her mind at first, only reaching her after she's snapped out of her brief stupor by all that noise. That infuriating noise. That incessant yammering, that self-serving bullshit, that shitfaced posturing. Are these people really worth so much that Rita and her family would risk their lives just to protect them? The Union Busan, yes, but the New York? Benin? Notre Dame? Maybe Red Dwarf's right. Maybe it really would be nice, cathartic, justified even, to finally kill that piece of-

Kukuru finally remembers where she is. She's been breathing heavily for the past half minute or so, that chunk of table she had peeled off since compressed into something slightly smaller than her fist. Realizing just how much her hand is bleeding underneath that table, too, she quickly patches her hand up before shoving the table chunk into her pocket, then pushing herself back and away from the table shakily to approach Geburah and Shajo.

"Can you... Um. Keep an eye on things for me? And make sure Lili doesn't get too swamped?" She asks them quietly while giving them shaky pats on the back, then looks over to the rest of the gathering. "Oh. Um. I need to... Bathroom." She lies rather terribly before bowing lightly to the gathering and making a hasty exit. "I'll be back!"

Kukuru won't be back tonight, at least. She's a little too horrified for that right now. She'll have to remember to ask Lilian that thing later.
Lilian Rook     'That's what happened on the Notre Dame?!'

    "A lot of things happened that nobody here is ready to accept." Lilian says.

    '... Benin withdraws its objection'

    Lilian smiles. This is how it should be. "Very well. I'm glad to hear it." Good.

    'Given that there is such a thing as a 'Queen', it seems likely she is a nascent one herself. I favor killing both of them.'

    Lilian's smile slowly slides off of her face. "I see you've correctly intuited why the Queen is so desperate, now of all times." Lilian says. The honey and poison leaches out of her voice when she talks to Clark. "I know for a fact that there are those with the Fish Disease aboard this vessel. You know as well as we do what's going on, if you're even the slightest bit informed of your own operation; and if you aren't, then you're in no position to be commanding anything."

    'It's not just about the end of the world for you. She's your sister, isn't she, Bota?'

    It'd take careful attention to Lilian's heart rate to notice anything different.

    'You want to protect her, even if that means leaving humanity at the mercy of a second Queen.'

    He isn't wrong. Protecting Rita is the point. Lilian has grown fond of the people of the Busan, and especially Kana and Bota, but she could care only a little less if every other ship sank. All of this is for Rita. She wouldn't be in this operation if it weren't.

    But Lilian's idea of protecting Rita is very different from what Clark thinks it is. She's said over and over again, 'Rita's home', because . . .

    §--My rockets come the closest to having an effect. Like that, reacting in time is a struggle even for Rita. But she doesn't have to- they splash against an invisible obstacle not far into the grotto, leaving behind scorched tentacles. Of course she'd blocked that off in anticipation of someone slipping past her.

    --Similarly, four hundred bullets fail to pierce her tentacles where they're struck. Rita can't dodge bullets from a standstill like that, can only barely flinch into a crouch- but flinching serves her well enough. Her skin is tough enough that the contours of her body work like shaped armor. From a weapon of that caliber, anything less than a direct hit simply rolls off rather than pierce through.

    --"It's just a monster, Ms. Rook," Rita says queasily as she rights herself. "It doesn't 'deserve' anything, any more than a rock does. I'm really sorry about this. I'll take care of you later, okay? But... if 'a monster that kills people' is your standard, then..." She grimaces slightly, shaking away the thought- and then grimaces again, seeing my leg.§

    'I propose to dedicate New York's full resources to the extermination task force, and I propose for New York's harpoonists to head the unified command unilaterally.'

    Lilian pauses, ostensibly in mental calculus, for all of exactly ten seconds, and no longer. In reality, the math is already a done deal in her head; she's only counting to ten to see if her feelings change.
Lilian Rook     She lifts her hand for silence, and the gesture suggests that she get it.

    Lilian looks to Gebura on the datapad. She makes an assumption. She glances left and right, to Shajo and Nonon, and tilts her head back. The bob of her chin says 'stand down'. Her eyes say 'you'll get what you want soon enough; trust me'. Slowly, her gaze sweeps back across the assembly opposite of her. And then she makes another, bolder assumption. Or maybe a calculation. Or perhaps she already knows.

    "I am prepared to offer New York unilateral command over the Busan-New York-Independent Alliance's Harpoonists for the duration of this operation." says Lilian. "For certain, considerable compensation. We'd be placing a great deal of trust, to leave the lives of our Harpoonists in your hands, so I expect that to carry commensurate weight at the table. To ensure that offer is given due consideration, I will remain here until negotiations are concluded."

    Lilian gestures to the others. I looks like 'I'll handle this, you may go'. With her head turned to Bota, nobody gets to see the look she shares with him. But they all see when she turns right back to Clark Miller. The moment where she locks eyes with him, and subtly licks her lips. A quiet tremor of anticipation runs down her arms, then stills. "Is this agreeable to you, Harpoonist Miller?"
Meika Kirenai     It seems like maybe, just maybe, some leeway is being made. Objections falling off, the video's threat hitting home. Meika smiles, the ambient pressure easing ever so slightly off- for just a brief moment. But every problem thrown aside has more underneath. Miller's there, and he has things to say. That never goes south.

    I'm trying. Patience is effort, and demurity more so, to not make it worse. She listens as long as she can.

'If it's too much, feel free to step out, alright?'

    She didn't want to take Huorong's words. Doesn't. But as Clark Miller's speech goes on- and as he hits the word sister, Meika can't stomach being in the room anymore. 'Nascent Queen' or not, whatever that even means, and regardless of how confused she is on who Rita is, after only even meeting her once, Meika does understand what a sister means to someone. Anger makes her chest feel tight and the back of her throat burn. Obsceneties flash through her mind, bitten back. The idea of what she'd do, if it were one of hers on the line. No matter how monstrous. He wouldn't be wrong to. She tastes the rising presence vomit, at the very thought that to this room, caring like that is a mortal flaw. That it has to be explained away like a marred discipline record.

    She stands up, and doesn't even bother to push her chair back in. The motion is silent, as are her footsteps, as she turns and walks right out the door. It's that, or make a disturbance, and she already promised to do better. A quiet, out of place schoolgirl shouldn't be missed in a busy room like this. That's all Meika hopes they'll remember her as, if they even bother to.
Redshift Operators     Red Dwarf bounces his legs more and more. Eyes flit around over his clasped hands, as he promps his elbows up on those knees. When Lilian gestures, he grinds his teeth. "Alright. I'm out, then." He rises to his feet in a motion that pounds the nearest table with his palm just a little too much, before striding out the door. A quick motion is made to gather the rest of the Redshifts with him. He *hated* having to do that. It was horrible, and this situation being rubbed in his face by Clark Miller has him on-edge.

    But hey, this is what punching up means. Unsatisfying moments, stressful efforts to beg for help from your greaters, compromising in agonizing ways, and consoling yourself with the promise that some day, you'll kill most of the people in this room. He still went with his gut, which said that the Queen has to be prioritized and killed ASAP.

    On the way down the tower, he cases it for an explosive operation.
Candy      Candy reaches for Ishirou's hand and squeezes it gently. It means a few things. 'Thank you for being here.' 'You did good.' And it also means 'I'm taking Lilian up on that.'

     "Well, it sounds like you guys can handle the wrap-up without little old me, ah?" Candy smiles a convincing facsimile of a human smile. "Glad to get the brass tacks taken care of." Fuck yourselves. "I'm gonna take in the sights. Maybe try to get some shut-eye--tomorrow's probably gonna be busy." Thank you. And I'm sorry. His eyes flick over Lilian briefly as he excuses himself.

     Down the hallway, back up, passing Meika on the way out. Out of earshot of the meeting chamber. He does, in fact, take in the sights--from one of the railed walkways offering a view of the statue which overlooks the city. A beer has found itself into his hand. Half of it is gone in the first swig. Narrowing his eyes at it, Candy lifts his free hand and extends his middle finger.

     "Keeping your stupid ass around didn't help a fucking thing, did it?" The rest of the beer is knocked back, and Candy hurls the empty bottle at the railing of an adjacent balcony. It shatters, sending broken shards of brown glass and foamy dregs falling to the ground, faintly glimmering in the night air. "Fuck you. Whoever you are."

     Red Dwarf is offered a beer, as he passes.
Hibiki Tachibana     Even though she didn't express it as much as she maybe should've in the moment, Bota's support helped a lot. To hear he's going through it too, even if she already knew that more than well. It helped her keep it together, and keeps her focused on not doing anything stupid herself.

    She would've felt awful if she lost it with Red Dwarf. She knows how bad doing that must've been for him. Saying all of that, when it took everything she had to not actually throw a punch at Clark Miller. He's been going through it ever since they were first coming up here. Him, Kukuru, Candy, Meika, Lilian...

    ...Still, she has to swallow down her words. That much more when Clark gives his speech, and just the mention of killing both of them gets her fists clenching white-knuckled under the table. It's only because Bota himself is able to weather getting that directed at him than she can stop herself from pushing up to her feet herself.

    Just to only barely relax as the room devolves into bickering, putting her elbows on the table and burying the upper half of her face in her hands, letting all her broiling emotions leak out in an extended, heavy sigh. Giving them that tiny outlet is the only reason they're not going to hit a breaking point inside of her.

    "If I am, it's only barely," she murmurs a little miserably towards Bota, answering his earlier question after Candy gives his own input. Not like anyone will hear them in the middle of all this ruckus. "...And a lot of the time I can't. But I...want to see Rita be able to come home, more than anything. And I want you guys to be able to see her come back with smiles on your faces, too." Even if I can never convince Rita she's not a monster, I want to at least give her that much. "...So I have to try."

    She dry swallows and lets a moment pass before shaking her head. "...It's so hard for people to come together, even when they need to do it more than ever. I seriously hate it." Maybe she doesn't have room to talk, since the most 'together' she wants right now is her fist and Clark Miller's face. Or with a lot of things, recently. "...That people can be like this. But...we've got things we have to protect. Right?" So they just have to bear with it, for right this second.

    Even if spotting Kukuru, then Meika, and then Red Dwarf taking the incentive to slip out one after another reaffirms how very hard that is.
Angela Nonon and Shajo relax when they catch Lilian's look. Well, Shajo relaxes. A Promise from a Color (and Lilian essentially is one in their eyes) is worth more than a Contract. This isn't because they are necessarily more trustworthy than other folk it's just that generally speaking they have no need to lie. If Lilian didn't want to give them what they wanted, she would have just told them to fuck off and that would have been that. And despite everything, she still is the one in charge and they are here to solidify that fact and to get a read on the situation--nothing else. It's not their job to teach Clark Miller the lesson his face is asking for.

Still, even the leash of Gebura can only extend so far with so much that hammers nails in the human spirit. That's how they always getcha, like Lilian had said. How far can they push. Even the most disciplined will grab the neck if pecked by a punishing bird enough. But the discipline doesn't break today. Clark Miller is one big asshole, but he's hardly the first one.

Gebura noticed it too. Clark Miller's gonna be a problem later, she had said, but is he going to be a problem she has to deal with? They said it themselves, Rita is practically a second Queen. How well were these people able to beat back the first one?

Nonon finally steps back, taking position near Shajo. Kukuru makes a strange request--or maybe not all too strange really. Shajo hesitates and then says, "Ah, sure. Least for a bit. It's why we are here."

"Man all this talking has really worked up my appetite," Nonon says, returning just as Kukuru leaves.

"I dunno, I lost mine." Shajo mutters softly to his companion.

"Aww...!" Nonon wraps both arms around Shoja and lifts him up. "Don't be a grumpy gus!"

She gives him a brilliant smile.

Shoja smiles back. "Yeah, alright, let's snag some grub after this wraps up. Got one last task from Kukuru to handle." He kisses Nonon's bicep. It's tough for him to reach her cheek without her bending over.

Gebura closes her eyes once Lilian makes her offer. In truth, does it really matter if he sees the snare? He can't exactly deny it after the way he was talking before. If he did, that'd be a message in of itself.
Rita Ma      Bota lays his hand on Red Dwarf's shoulder. It feels like he's about to try to talk him down from revolutionary bloodshed. Bota's assuming the posture of the Weary Reasonable Friend, and that's what weary reasonable friends do.

     "Thanks," he says instead, and the tension in his hand says even more than his tone. "Step one."

     As Meika and Kukuru both slip out one after the other, Bota reaches after them. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice gentle despite his own distress. "Are you..." But he doesn't finish the question. Even he can tell they're not okay. Instead, just as they leave earshot, he switches gears to a sincere "Thank you, too."

     Clark's gaze falls to Lilian's lips. His smile widens until it's almost a leer, and his eyes are unwholesomely knowing. How much does he really glean from her words? Just the loophole she's set for herself and the other Elites? Or the yawning trap behind it?

     Whatever he sees, however unwisely, it doesn't scare him. "Your proposal is acceptable, Lilian Rook," he says, and nobody on the New York side seems to notice that he's slipped from merely suggesting things to speaking on their behalf.

     Bota tenses further and averts his face at the idea of having to take orders from Clark, but he'd been braced against the possibility from the start. That's probably the only way he can stand it. Huorong, with the air of a distant but old friend, silently taps his arm, and Bota nods. 'You good?' 'I'm good.'

     "You gotta try the roasted fish skewers around here," Bota says to the Disciplinary Team. He still sounds depleted, but the smile in his voice says that dinner recommendations are a welcome distraction. Then Shoja kisses Nonon's arm, and he stares in an innocently shellshocked daze. Any further recommendations die in his throat.

     "Uh, um- have fun."
Angela "Ehh? You're not coming with?" Nonon asks. "Come on, you gotta eat up if you're going to save the world in a few months!"

"And you'll need to show us where to go at least." Shoja adds.

This is part of their duo combo technique to try and get Bota's mind off of this all this shit (and to take him somewhere he can flip his shit without causing shit).
Rita Ma      "Well..." Bota hesitates, looking back to Boss Huorong and Lilian. Huorong nods: he can hold back the fort by himself. Even though Bota looks reluctant to shed his responsibility, he eventually succumbs to the temptation.

     The tension leaves his body in a rush of relief, and he slumps for a moment before standing up with a smile to follow them out. "Alright. I found this place down by the docks last time. How much spice can you guys stand? And hey, Lilian, I'll save you some too. If you can take it, there's this really good kind of..."

     He looks happy. He sounds happy. He's happier. But his eyes are still sharp with the exertion of smiling.