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Lilian Rook	It's been some nebulous amount of time that's hard to recall. It feels longer than it really is. Marked by Rita's presence and Meika's absence, more than anything else, the scope is purely in the hands of Lilian's sister, Katrina, and there are certainly no convenient means to reach her that you know of. It somehow feels like 'when it's ready', even put out of mind.     The sight of the California border Urban Center; or rather, mostly the sight from outside it, in the ghettos, doesn't have to be repeated. The border wall in its perpetual state of gouged and battle-scarred from the same endlessly repeated security operations is nowhere in sight; thankfully, given the endless profusion of sensor towers and missile strike batteries churned out on whoever's cheap resources. There's no endless drive across coarse blue sand, passing by endless red ivy and bleached formations like failed skeletons and obsidian dry coral. No attacks, either. And no tinted window bulletproof hummer fake ID bullshit either.     The 'G.D.F codes' you were promised were tied to the private artificial warpgate don't seem to actually equate to being owned and run by the G.D.F. There's very little sign of the famous white-grey-red, constrained largely to a single familiar (massive) space-age APC rover, and a few dozen crates, a broadcast tower, a console or two, and some sort of portable command tent-slash-bunker that has an out of date series of markings; no one is wearing the uniform.     Instead, you're put under the harsh desert sun, without the eerie terraformed sand to suck the warmth out of you, but protected instead in the deep shade of a sizable basin. Beyond its outsides, you can see miles of golden red sand, interspersed with bare rocks and hardy shrubs, but within the sloping walls, everything you can see is green, grown on an immaculately maintained aquifer.     Native acacias and junipers provide further shade by a crystal clear lake, winding its tendrils through carpets of grass and sage and laurel. Footpaths are limited to set stones, wooden bridges, or odd desire paths. The drive out isn't even paved, and curves somewhat around the rim. Your wifi and cell reception sucks. It's still too humid, and for an extreme rarity in this world, you can hear (and see) bugs. Dragonflies and ladybugs, crickets and caterpillars, and unfortunately flies and mosquitos and the odd glittering spider web. Birds, which you can hear by their distinct calls. A jackrabbit that leaves as soon as you show up.     It's all slightly less impossible than the clusters of wooden cabins across the park. Peak-roofed with iron chimneys and dusty glass windows, they could be from the 1800s for all you know. The sights of exterior wiring, hydrogen stills, and a radio mast, aren't too different from some of the setup in the Dragon's Garden, but laundry is hung out to dry by line, the only tracks come from a couple of old bicycles, you see and smell smoke from outdoor fire pits, and hear the unhurried chattering of people in not-English. Someone is out on the lake in a fishing boat with a line. It's utterly, completely ridiculous.
Lilian Rook	Katrina meets you at the gate, with two of the armed men from last time; what few of them there are, without uniforms. Dressed down in a breezy linen blouse and athletic shorts for the heat, her fingers are as bandaged as usual, but her smile is a little less easy. It has nothing to do with the sweat.     Lilian is slightly ahead of you, arriving only just prior once she knew you were coming through, not far from the cluster of consoles and the portable generator and taped-over battery bank powering the gate. Wearing a conservative-leaning yellow halter and white skirt with sandals, she's engrossed in crouching by the lake edge and examining the water. A handful of people, at a distance, near a fire and a parked boat, are gathering around to look at you. Nothing is remarkable about them but their sun hats and lack of smart devices.     "Hey. I'm sorry about being rude before. And making you wait. There was a lot to go over, and . . ." Katrina glances back over her shoulder, smiling grimly. "What we're doing here is very important. And it's just as important that this kind of thing not just get out like that, okay?"
Xion	It's unusual to mix the feelings of the innocent itch of Spring, genuine and vibrant and buzzing with the tinnitus of life rather than the whisper of desolation, with 'helping out Lilian'. Despite Lilian herself having a vibrancy, her world always seemed to be washed out, alien, looking-down and distant. An expanse that lingered with foreboding pressure, which this place... ...did not? Instead, it was eerie. Thankfully, Xion didn't have to think about that, or weird coordinates, or anything else. She knew exactly how to deal with any odd bumps and brambles in being in a place at a time as promised. With a black and red plaid flannel shirt tied around her waist and a black tank top on over black jean shorts and sneakers to enjoy the weather - bugs and all - Xion loiters around taking in the view and peering with a sun-silling hand on her brow to shield her eyes and consider the cabins and the lack of jackrabbits, searching-to-find a hovering bug, or whatever else she can find. Listening to the natural sounds of nature's respiry, she adds a respiry of her own -- the tell-tale 'pschok!' of a pop tab soda can releasing sealed carbonation. In one ungloved hand, Xion tips back the weeping-cold can and enjoys the refreshing flavors of delicious orange soda. "Waiting's fine!" Xion offers after a moment. "Honestly, I can already immediately tell why this is downright precious in importance. So... ... What can we do to help?" Xion asks, the classic offer tumbling out of her thoughtlessly.
Trudy Grimm	There is a solid chance Trudy forgot how miserable she was in Nevada last time due to the heat; because when the witch emerges from the warpgate, it is in her usual attire, furs and all. She stops instantly, squinting at the sky while raising a hand to shield her eyes. The broad smile on her face vanishes, replaced with a grimace.     "Oh. Right." The annoyance is palpable in her tone.     Closing her eyes, Trudy peels herself out of the heavy winterized fur coat she typically wears, casting it into her shadow beads and all. The sleeveless white vest worn underneath at least suits the weather more-- and has its own stringers of beads and charms and other knicknacks dangling from a breast pocket and the opposite hip.     She pauses in the process of putting the Grimoire's strap back over her shoulders, staring at it. After a moment of contemplation, Trudy drops the book into her shadow as well. When she steps forward, skeletal hands cling to her furry boots, pulling them off and presenting strappy sandals for her to step into which give her footprints a cloven-hoofed shape when her shadow returns to normal.     "This'll have to do, I suppose..." A boney arm reaches up, presenting a wide-brimmed sunhat which Trudy takes without looking, "Good afternoon, miss Katrina Rook!" The sour tone in her voice is immediately gone, "I do appreciate the invitation. You can count on this witch not to chatter about what's seen here, but I am oh-so-very curious about what sort of work you are up to in this Gods-forsaken heat."     "Oh, pish-posh," Grimnir's ragged traveller's cloak and wide hat and bushy-bearded one-eyed face are completely unchanged. The heat doesn't seem to bother him at all, in sharp contrast to his witchy companion, "All things in Midgard are as they should be." Despite his one eye, there's an implication of a wink, "You've just forgotten how to adapt to warm weather."     There's some suggestion that Trudy is tuning him out, though, as she lifts a hand to wiggle fingers in greeting for Lilian in the distance by the lakeside.
Arthur Lowell	>Arthur: Accept apologies, greet properly     "Shit, yo, I BARELY REMEMBER the RUDENESS. You be as RUDE as you wanna, my ass is MAXIMUM RUDE ON THE REGULAR." Arthur yammers as he batters her hand with his usual secret handshake: A complex barrage of daps, pounds, bumps, grips, grabs, slips, slides, low-fives, high-fives, mid-fives, low-fours, and a funny little wiggle at one stage, all done in the span of about three seconds at incredible speed. "I don't know a lot about SECRET-KEEPING but I bet it takes some WORK AND TIME, for fuckin' sure."     Reception? Weather? Arthur's baggy outfit somehow seems plenty cool, though he's got a little more volume, and swapped the white and black stuff to deal with heat. "But I for sure need to get some deets about what THIS KIND OF THING is, to begin with. You keeping all this SECRECY, makes me think we're maybe worried about the same SESAME-STREET FUCKHEADS."
Ishirou	Ishirou is here today in civilian clothing, and for him, it's simple because it's very hot out.  A red T-shirt with GAMEBRICK written on white letters on it, with a pair of jean shorts that go down past his knees.  He's got a pair of trail boots on, in case there was a lot of walking to do today, and socks that escape the top of the boots but are scrunched back down so they're not up his legs.  He's got a tan hat on, to help keep the sun out of his eyes during all of this! With the others, but behind Lilian, he walks up to meet Katrina and her allies to talk about what has been taking so long, and the big secret behind out here so they can offer their assistance.  Ishirou is a lot brighter now than he was a few months ago, and is happy to be here despite the heat.   "It's quite alright!  It's nice to be out here now and be able to help so..." he asks, but Xion makes the offer first.  "Yeah... what can we do to help?  What is going on out here that's so important?"
Petra Soroka	Petra's experience with this world has been largely constrained to the Rook manor, the Dragon's Garden, and various Phantom Circle locales, rather than dealing with the Antegent, so her shock at seeing an isolated settlement beyond an Urban Center is fairly muted. Any interaction with Katrina is worth paying some attention for, so Petra comes wearing a blouse and airy cardigan that Tamamo bought for her before, as well as jeans and boots, splitting the difference between looking presentable and wearing her scruffy tomboy gear that she's most comfortable going on missions in.     The context of the meeting-- and the intensity of it-- aren't exactly clear to her, which puts her on edge. Some shit's always going on, and she rarely has a good grasp on it. It's not like she expects any kind of hostility from Katrina, but the way people in the Phantom Circle operate is stressful enough to Petra's poor little brain even when it's not critically important to her that she also make a good personal impression on them.     So despite the pleasant weather, despite the opportunity to help Lilian close to home, Petra is nervous when stepping out of the warpgate. Seeing Katrina's expression just reinforces that she should be.     "Important? You mean the Doctors Without Borders stuff? Or do you mean keeping this place maintained and everything?" Petra eyes Lilian's back, trying to take cues from her. Lilian being enthralled by the clear water and thriving spot of nature is actually a really good sign, no matter what comes later, so Petra relaxes some. Relaxing means her mind wanders, distractedly continuing to stare at Lilian's back.     After a bit, she shakes her head and then nods in agreement with Xion. "Yeah, though, what can we help with?"
Angela	Yuri and Cinder Time! With Angela on the pad! Why Angela? Well, she's presently barred from Banter but at least on an actual mission she is allowed to spend time with her loved ones. This doesn't mean she's in a good mood. Whomever planted that bug in her office could've easily just snagged a picture of her and destroyed the entire facility that easily and then she would have never gotten to leave. Destroying the facility and killing everyone and herself WAS her Plan C but now she doesn't consider that plan as viable. She wants to LIVE now and she can't lose the opportunity to. Getting deactivated during these Meltdowns is so frustrating--it's not even HER fault, it's her fucking CREATOR who plannd things out this way. If he LISTENED this situation wouldn't have even happened! But Angela also doesn't really want to spend time with her friends being grouchy at everyone either. Yuri seems anxious today. Maybe it's the unexpected presence of Katrina when even her sister seemed surprised to see her. Cinder doesn't mind the heat and is strangely comfortable in the surroundings. They both have their EGO Gear. "It's kind of pretty here..." Cinder says. "Mm." Yuri agrees, fiddling with the Angela pad in her hands, occassionally sweeping it around so ANgela can get a look at their surroundings. "Miss Katrina. Good to see you again." Angela says. "...Were you rude?" There is a moment as Katrina explains how she was 'rude'. And explains how important their work is. "I understand. I will have my Agents express discretion. ... I am in no hurry." ''Shit, yo,'' Angela frowns immediately. ''I BARELY REMEMBER the RUDENESS. You be as RUDE as you wanna, my ass is MAXIMUM RUDE ON THE REGULAR.'' Angela's frown fades to neutral--some people just talk like this, she thinks, he doesn't seem particularly insolent outside of the linguistic idiosyncacies. "Pardon me, Sesame-Street Fuckheads?" Angela asks Arthur, unable to stop herself in time. She nods to Petra and Xion. "We are authorized to assist though our professional medical team is not present today we can summon them for later."
Arthur Lowell	>Arthur: Pardon me, Sesame-Street Fuckheads?     "The WORD BLASTERS." He emphasizes with gestures. "HOOKED ON ACRONYMS. THE BABY-BLOCKS JUMBLE." Is this unclear? Difficult to interpret? "COUPS BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE LETTER C. Is any of this ringin' those bells? Damn, girl." Surely, this communicated what needed knowing. Or maybe someone else can translate for Angela, Arthur might be more useless.
Petra Soroka	"Pardon me, Sesame-Street Fuckheads?"     Petra passively gravitates towards Cinder and Yuri once they arrive, eventually ending up beside them. Preferably in a way that keeps her nearish to Xion. And Lilian. And Rita. Petra's gravitational relationship to complex arrangements of girls is difficult to calculate.     She nudges the Angela-tablet though, lowering her voice a bit like she tapped her on the shoulder. "Alphabet fuckers. Like, uh, secret organization. I think he might be being vague on purpose, but it's hard to tell. Arthur's cool though, he's just like that." "HOOKED ON ACRONYMS. THE BABY-BLOCKS JUMBLE."     Petra snickers at Arthur, waving her hand. "She's not, like, from an Earth. She might not have experience with the-- the--" She blinks, hesitant. "Wait, I don't know if I'm supposed to say it."
Rita Ma	"And . . . Rita . . . We'll . . ." She looks away again. She can't hold eye contact.      Katrina is one of the only people honest enough not to look Rita in the eye. The idea of meeting her again is a little happy and a little queasy.      Rita deviates from her usual fashion today, and it's not hard to guess the vague shape of why. The loose one-shoulder shirt with hand pockets looks cute on her, maturely childish and childishly mature, but it isn't her, like something a professional would suggest without knowing her tastes. The knee-length pleated skirt feels that way too. In the distance as a blob of color, she might look more like Xion or Petra than herself.      There's no remaining sign of LobCorp-induced drippiness, at least. And she does have it in her to marvel at the dew on a spiderweb en route, and the smile still hasn't quite faded when she catches up with the sisters.      "It's nice to see you again, Ms. Katrina," she says, just as sweetly as before, but from a few inches higher up. Her hands are clasped anxiously in front of her. "I don't think that you were rude at all. You're doing really important things here, aren't you? And you mentioned having a good reason, and Ms. Rook- um, the other Ms. Rook- agreed, and so I'm sure it was, whatever it is."      She waves at Lilian warmly from the hip, and then gets up on tiptoes to wave at the people near the fire-and-boat, and says "Oh, Ms. Katrina? Who are those people over there?"      After a few moments, she telepathically nudges Lilian too.      "Was she mad at me?"
James Bond	Hey. I'm sorry about being rude before. And making you wait. There was a lot to go over, and . .     "Don't be," says Bond. "Even if you weren't catching up with family, it's just how things are done with precise, important business. And you wouldn't have asked that of us if that wasn't the sort of work being done." He'd come in an unmarked jeep again, with equipment that could be described as 'deniably American--' just like last time, the kind of stuff that'd mark him as a member of some agency that's always getting pillaged by better-funded letter agencies; an outfit that could feasibly be counted on to work with the GDF, if somewhat low on the totem pole.     It's parked a ways off, cooling down. Bond's fatigues are breathable enough to be comfortable in the heat, though he does take a drink from a canteen before continuing. Pardon me, Sesame-Street Fuckheads?     "A very oblique reference to 'letter agencies,'" says Bond, careful not to say 'the,' or specify which. "Government agencies with acronyms for names and very little public accountability."
Angela	''Coups brought to you by the letter C'' "The Wings?" Angela asks. "Ah, yes, if anything like them are active here we probably should at the very least proceed cautiously and ensure they cannot cause trouble to our friends." She immediatley thought of C Corp or, rather, a C Corp like organization. She leans in to Petra (on her comms) and says, "Secret organization..." She murmurs. Wings are definitely not secret, but she can imagine them acting secretly. "Word Blasters..." Yuri murmurs and then laughs a little before looking away a moment-- ''Petra passively gravitates towards Cinder and Yuri once they arrive'' Yuri smiles at Petra. "Hey. You doing good, Petra? How're you feeling?" Cinder glances at Yuri for a moment but adds, "Yeah--you holding up okay? That was your first time working um---as Captain right?" ''Government agencies with acronyms for names and very little public accountability.'' "Oh..." Angela says. "So Wings, but sneakier."
Tamamo	Tamamo's sole acknowledgment of warm weather is that she's dressed in something closer to the lighter of the two usual versions of her miko-like clothing. Technically, it's an outfit more closely related to and helpful in the practice of what's normally called 'witchcraft' and 'cursing,' but she just doesn't tend to mention that, and people familiar with the construction style don't show up too often. There's just a bit more gold(?) jewelry included than was the case when she'd first shown her face wearing the same (action-ready) outfit.     It doesn't really look like enough, with those layers. Nevertheless, she shows no sign of suffering for the heat. It's very much the opposite of how she had bundled up on those excursions in the mountains.     'And it's just as important that this kind of thing not just get out like that, okay?'     "That is perfectly understandable, of course," Tamamo answers, meaning it without having to first be told just what secrets are being protected here. "Was there anything you specifically wished us to first see, to understand the, ah, context?"
Lilian Rook	Honestly, Lilian kind of looks like hardly knows what to do with herself, Xion. Even if she's been around green things and water with living fish, before, this is at home. Too much of it is similar not to feel it. She stands up and looks towards the group with a complicated look mingling 'surprised' 'happy' and 'utterly lost'.     She waves back at Trudy with the slightly stunned expression of being worried she'll suddenly see a video crew. Spotting Petra, she solidifies her resolve a little, and starts approaching with the determined stride of someone hoping it isn't too late to prevent Petra from being deranged around her sister. She bounces up on her toes to get Rita's attention, and jerks her head towards Petra and Arthur. Silent wavelength. Waving Tamamo over.     "Help?" Katrina blinks at the question. It isn't often she's given genuine pause, rather than a moment of startlement or a comedic underline. "Um . . . I thought you just wanted to know what was goig on?" she says. "Wait, scratch that. You were already doing something here, weren't you? To help!" Arthur's handshake QTE is such a matter of course now she has the prompts down like DDR on the side. Though injured, her fingers are up to the task of daps and slides. "You can tell, too? Oh that's good! That saves me a lot of explaining, hahaha~"     Patiently contemplating the nature of 'Sesame Street fuckheads, Katrina says "Oh. I think I remember that. From what I was really little? Just before Year One." Confident in her understanding, she continues, "Sure sure, them of course. They suck so bad you wouldn't believe it! But, like . . . all of them? All over the world. You know."     "People like us, but not." Lilian says, catching up. "Haha? But not?" "We've both seen Matthew's documents by now. Don't pretend like you don't know how the three of us turned out different from the two of them; and everyone else they know." "Oh! Good! You know I meant-- Gosh, I was worried for a second you thought I meant something else! H-Haha! No no, you're right! This place has to stay secret from the Phantom Circle that doesn't like helping. This one and all the others, obviously." "The . . . others?"     Lilian trails off into a silent, slow-dawning stare.     "Well I mean, obviously the doctors are important." Katrina says to Petra. She looks to the two combat medics near her. For once, guys holding guns in this world actually look pretty relaxed; if confused. One does a little no-motion wave. A hands up. "But um, I may have fibbed a teensy bit about it. Haha." Katrina falls to anxiously playing with her ponytail. "It's true, that I work with a group that goes all over the world, and helps with humanitarian issues, and Antegent incidents, buuuut . . ."     "We're helping the people outside the Urban Centers. Who don't have hospitals. You know? People who come into danger much more frequently. Our, um, administrative staff, have an arrangement. With . . . they get to access . . . do you still call it the Dark Web?"     Katrina flashes a nervous smile at Rita. She takes a moment with Angela, first, to say "Sorry, are you one of Lilian's work friends? She doesn't accept video from social media, so--" "Do you really have to phrase it like that? It's like you're revealing some kind of personal secret." "--ahahaha, sorry, sorry!" Looking around where Rita points, Katrina says, very simply, "The people who live here."
Lilian Rook	"Like, they moved out of the Urban Centers. A long time ago. Or just didn't even go. Like they lived on this land already." Katrina hurriedly explains. The gestures with her hands are probably supposed to be helpful, but all they do is convey energy and complexity, like 'it's a lot to explain'. The language of tension and breath is Lilian's alone; she's full of hurried pep to get to the next sentence. "It's generally understood that all of those attemtps are nobly doomed efforts, right? Testing the waters for when we can really expand again. But a quarter of them or so actually succeed; there's just no way to contact society, and honestly they usually don't want to."     "How?" Lilian says. Flat. Bland. Unbelieving. Katrina looks at her awkwardly. "How do you think? It's not like it's just because of us. Caelton is cute, but its sort of . . . overdone." Replying to Tamamo, Katrina says "The aquifer is managed by the people who live on the land. Some of it is from experts who left the Urban Center, because it sucks, but a lot of it is ancestral knowledge. Environment cultivation. And . . . even America has its Traditions, you know? Those basically obliterated first nations; they're actually having kind of a rennaissance now! Because those old half-forgotten magics are totally fine, actually, for settling in less hostile territory."     "Plus, there's community and trust, and people will actually just hear 'hey, a ward's broken, close the windows and don't look at the moon', and they just listen. There are some guys who know how to fight, too. And the land wards work fine here. You don't see any sentry guns and sensor bafflers, right? Its scary, and people get sick and injured, but it's not like we need expert medical magic to treat them. What mostly matters is . . ."     Katrina takes a deep breath, then powers quickly through a sentence. "Bryce is here too, and he's in the same group as me, and his logistics job is 'investigating G.D.F misused, laundering, embezzlement, et cetera' because it lets him skim and confiscate stuff we bring to these communities. There's actually a few of us. But . . . Haha, it's awkward to say, but the two of us . . . kind of try to keep tabs on Lil' Lil, as little as we can, and go ahead to help where she's showing interest in being."     §I don't think so. Not mad at you. But she was very young when the Onslaught started. She grew up while it was happening. She was a medic, out there, before I was even born. So it was . . . I'm sure it was a lot to see you. We've been talking about it for weeks. I'm certain I've brought her around. She's never been the type of hide how she feels.§
Angela	Cinder looks up with wide eyes at Katrina. "You...help people in the Outskirts?" Her mouth forms an o-shape for a moment with wide eyes, she's looking at KAtrina the way most Agents look at Lilian. "...You're...you're wonderful," Cinder says. "I don't know what the Dark Web is but--where I'm from, people outside the City don't get any help at all. That's incredible! I definitely want to help any way I can...!" Angela looks towards Cinder. "We are going to help as they ask for it, but calm yourself, Cinder." Cinder bites at her lip, vibrating lightly as she attempts to contain her enthusiasm. Angela doesn't miss te nervous smile at Rita. She'd say something but she sort of expects Rita'd rather her not. Instead she says, "There's nothing to worry about." vaguely, with plausible deniability. "Yeah, that's pretty cool, though." Yuri says. "It sounds like it's tough work." ''Honestly they usually don't want to.'' "Or they know reaching out would be dangerous and no guarantee it'd work out." Cinder murmurs. And then louder adds, "But there's probably never any guarantee. Any day's dangerous, right?"
Xion	When Xion doesn't know what's going on, or what she's supposed to be doing, or lost the thread, and doesn't have a bulletpoint list or a quest tracker or a guide or a helpful indicator to know what to do or where to go -- when there's not something blisteringly obvious or self evident in front of her, the Nobody's first instinct is to... ...Ask if she should be doing something. There's pleasant ways to wrap it - certainly, it's a first impulse of several folk! - but in the quiet moment where a breath can be taken with a simple halo of life just working more or less and all the accoutrements of a biosphere still bio-ing in that sphere... Xion closes her eyes and dips her chin, smiling at the faint sidechannel conversation about cute things and familiar titles, affecting 'cool and assured' while taking a long sip of sugar syrup and fake sweet orange. "Well, sometimes it's why I go anywhere, to make sure things are doing as well as they could be? Maybe it's just a nervous question - it seems great here! Um - mm - mm..." The tone of the noirette tumbles down as her eyes pass over the group, the surrounds, Lilian not really knowing what's going on, them just all lingering in the natural beauty. "Think we could get some tables? Cold tea might be perfect for a day like this. Maybe we can catch up!" She offers. Not that Xion, herself, has things to catch up about, but cold tea sounded good after sipping room temperature sweet sugar water for her mood.
Trudy Grimm	Trudy's mood improves considerably with Lilian's proximity. The less sweltering outfit change probably helps, but at least she feels like she's in good company again. A look it shot towards Grimnir, but the old man has already wandered past Lilian to the lakeside himself. Leaning on his staff, he looks out across the water at the people fishing in their little boat, stroking his beard in thought.     Returning her attention to Katrina, Trudy hums thoughtfully, "I can see the necessity, certainly. People who live outside of town still have their needs, after all." Closing her eyes, she shrugs, "Living out in the wilderness doesn't stop one from getting sick or prevent injury, and babies are surely still being born. All kinds of work for a doctor in a place like this."     The example of a broken ward and occupants taking appropriate precautions, however, has the witch turning where she stands to skim the rim of the depression this cute little oasis is nestled within, a thoughtful sound escaping her lips. Nodding twice in succession, she confirms the lack of technical defenses. No sensors, no sentry guns. The guards are relaxed and look like they'd have a conversation if she struck one up, even.     "Thank you for looking out for your sister. Ah, perhaps it seems natural that you would..." Wistfully, the witch lets out a little sigh with her eyes on the surrounding ridge, "But it is very touching as far as I am concerned, and therefore a trait worthy of praise." She had related before to Lilian about the particularly hostile state of her own entire family towards herself, though Trudy seems reluctant to bring it up out loud. It doesn't feel appropriate right now.     "How *are* the wards for this location, by the by?" Turning just slightly, Trudy glances at Katrina from the corner of her eye, "Cantrips and sorcery are a matter of my own specialty, shall I take a look? Give the local leylines a once-over, perhaps? Most certainly you or those you're helping have done an excellent job already, perhaps it's presumptuous of me to even offer."
Rita Ma	"Weeks... you're so good to me, Ms. Rook." The telepathy isn't inflected quite the same way as normal speech, but emotional undertones still seep through the fog. 'You didn't have to do all that for me.' "I'm glad. She seems like such a sweet person. I don't want to make her unhappy if I help out. So thank you."      Outwardly, it looks like she just pleasantly zones out for a second staring at the pretty lake. That might not be untrue.      Then she comes back to herself, and tucks her hair behind her ear while following Katrina's pointing finger. "Oh. Normal people, taking care of themselves, with monsters as a fact of life..." The warmth of it washes over her. "That's sort of like home for me. It's really nice. Um, I won't bother anyone if I go talk to them, will I?"      On her way out, she stops, cocks her hips away from Lilian, and leans towards her conspiratorially. "Ms. Rook. You don't get to feel like a younger sister often, do you? This is just what it's like." That effusive glow tracks back over to Katrina: "Thank you so much for looking out for her."      Then she excitedly beckons to Petra to follow- maybe mistakenly assuming that she'll share her enthusiasm for rustic, close-to-the-land people- and girly-jogs around the lake to where those distant fire-and-boat people are, waving. If it doesn't look like they're closing ranks against her, she puts on her usual delightful charm and approaches whoever looks the most receptive to it.      "Hi! I'm Rita. I live in a place a little like this, too, but a long way away. What sorts of food do you grow here?" "Is it hard to build houses out of wood like that?" "Do you have electricity? Where do you get it from?" "You had an important reason for leaving the Urban Centers, right?" All delivered at the spaced-to pace that only seems slightly breathless in meandering, small-town terms, encouraging someone to ramble. She's prepared to be impressed!
James Bond	I don't know what the Dark Web is but--where I'm from, people outside the City don't get any help at all.     "It's not -all- that different here," laments Bond. He reaches into the pocket of his shirt and procures a pack of Strikes, thumbing it open, but looking at Katrina first as if to ask whether it'd mess anything up. If given the go-ahead, he lights up and continues his explanation to Cinder. "People on the 'Outskirts' only tend to get help in fits and starts, if they get it at all, on worlds like this. The help these people are getting is probably being done with clever accounting." He nods towards the APC, and then the little comm tower. "Otherwise you'd see a lot more official equipment. Still--I agree with you that it's work to be proud of." He flashes Katrina a world-weary smile. Caelton is cute, but its sort of . . . overdone.     "The men who were sent there to sabotage it didn't seem to think it was so cute," notes Bond, wiping his mouth and clipping the canteen back on his fatigues. "But that's all the more reason this place ought to stay a secret, isn't it? It's right under their noses, in a sense."     He sighs, looking out over the lake. His blue eyes speak to memories not just of Caelton, but of something farther back; another lifetime. Bryce is here too, and he's in the same group as me, and his logistics job is 'investigating G.D.F misused, laundering, embezzlement, et cetera' because it lets him skim and confiscate stuff we bring to these communities.     "Is he? I'll be damned." His eyebrows raise in momentary surprise. "Well, then I guess I owe him some gratitude--right after I pay some to you." After a pause: "Good logistics on the backend is crucial to any success in the field. You did it for Lilian, but that 'going ahead' you've been doing has helped the rest of us out, too. Thank you. Sincerely." He gestures to the jeep with a backwards nod of his head. "I happened to bring along a bottle of scotch," he says, a little glint in his blue eyes. "In case of emergency. You're welcome to it--I think you've earned it."
Tamamo	...with the determined stride of someone hoping it isn't too late to prevent Petra from being deranged around her sister.     Her attention drawn by following Lilian's, Tamamo ponders what could possibly be said to Petra that would offer the greatest reliability in getting her to pretend to be normal for twenty minutes. 'Don't say anything?' Hm, no, not that. Though it's a constant temptation, it would be a counterproductive command.     Distracted as she is, Tamamo doesn't notice the implicitly threatening nature of the non-expression she's giving Petra.     As Katrina talks, Tamamo seems to quickly understand -- or maybe she already understood, and is just showing keen interest. It's a little hard to tell. "Lil' Lil..." That comes out with a somewhat different, fascinated tone, repeated while glancing toward Lilian.     "Was it, perhaps, unnecessary that I sought you to look over her, then? To think you were already doing so to such an extent, if quietly. My, my." She's beaming, but the air's already too warm for it to change too much by her presence.     Cinder mumbles, "Cigarettes are cute."     With the lightest possible tone that passes through 'correction' without reaching 'teasing,' Tamamo says, "No."     '...and people will actually just hear 'hey, a ward's broken, close the windows and don't look at the moon', and they just listen.'     "Oh, dear. Is that truly a frequent issue? I would have expected... no, I suppose it is rather different, here and now. I do wonder, is the reason Caelton, and places like it, required those sentries only that their warding was insufficient, or was it a matter of broader land knowledge, and understanding the progression of the invasive changes, such as that desert in which we found ourselves?"     Katrina knows they're here to help 'something,' but wasn't expecting help 'from them.' Tamamo needs to think a bit more around that one.     'From what I was really little? Just before Year One.'     "Has there not been anything to speak of, since then, regarding that clandestine soldiery? You might say that our troubles with such people have been rather recent." There doesn't seem to be any point in hiding that, after mentioning them this loudly, even if vaguely.
Arthur Lowell	>Arthur: Fondly regard migration     I don't think you entirely understand. Anyway, Arthur looks around, and mutters, "Wait, shit, this ain't TEMPORARY? You got motherfuckers out here just LIVING PERMANENT?" He scratches his head. "So CAELTON, that didn't get taken down for breaking the SECRET SURVIVABILITY. It got taken down for..." He squints, looking around. To Lilian, to Katrina, around the area. "...What, PUBLICITY? No--"     He stops, shaking one extended index finger. "Over there, they had that Noblesse Oblige shit going down, didn't they? The people going out and making these places work, they just get strong ass-kickers and trusty people. But I'm guessing Learning With Langley went and murked their asses for affecting mid-to-top-level cultural shit. Blurring the lines, kinda? Or, what was it? I don't know *shit* about politics, for real, yo. But that'd explain why you're keeping *your* work a secret. 'Cause they'd guess you're a cultural risk too. Or am I fuckin' dumb about this?"
Ishirou	Ishirou listens to the breakdown of what is going on out here, and it's a lot to take in.  They help people who live beyond the city walls, who live outside even in the awful slums of the major cities here...and granted live better lives but more dangerous with the monsters so close to their doorsteps.  They have their traditions, their paths... Ishirou hears something about drinks and points up a finger.  "I brought some!" he says towards Xion, and out of his subspace pocket a cooler appears.  He opens it up and it has ice cooling and a variety of canned drinks, including sweet tea.   "Help yourselves!" he calls over, while still paying attention to Katrina.
Xion	The idea of a secret, original/reclaimed space for those that didn't fit into the world that also didn't fit into the cracks is one that might challenge some people and is as air to a bird or water to a fish to Xion. She regards the lake with a cataloging eye, adjusting her stance to toe-tap the end of her shoe into the ground and drink from her soda. 'I brought some!' "Oh," Xion seems a little flat. "-nice." She had hoped to prompt Katrina but she wasn't specific. Releasing the can as if to drop it, her orange soda fizzles away into voxels and twists away into darkness and nothing. Since she asked, she leans down to get a can of sweet tea, and without opening it, flashes a smile towards Katrina before taking a few steps to gaze at the lake and tap her index fingertip to the top of the can, tink-tink-tink nail to metaltop.
Petra Soroka	"But um, I may have fibbed a teensy bit about it. Haha."     Petra braces, ready for the worst, when Katrina hesitates and admits to her lie. Surely there's about to be some incredibly stressful reveal, some new complicated factor to consider, that's going to throw their plans with Ash into chaos.     And then her guard is completely bypassed and all her tension drains away the longer Katrina keeps talking. Similarly to Cinder, but skewed less towards awe and more towards joy, Petra lights up the more Katrina explains. "Oh! But that's really great! That's amazing, actually. It's kind of poetic that that's how it'd turn out, with the Native Americans and stuff, huh?" Briefly, the phrase 'we solemnly acknowledge that this land belongs to the Las Vegas people' floats across her mind. She doesn't know how to feel about that.     It takes her a few moments to recover from that thought. "Um, yeah, so that's, like, sick. So you only lied by making yourself seem *less* cool than you are." Petra's gaze drifts down to Katrina's fingers, then over to the G.D.F. rover. "And Bryce too... but it's, like, it doesn't even look like this place is barely struggling along. It looks like it's doing pretty well? Are there any... I mean, I'm sure it's hard to keep going, but is there anything that's just barely not falling apart?" "But . . . Haha, it's awkward to say, but the two of us . . . kind of try to keep tabs on Lil' Lil, as little as we can, and go ahead to help where she's showing interest in being."     "*Cute*?!" Petra exclaims with a little gasp, hands to her mouth, immediately turning her attention to Lilian and getting bullied in the radio for it. All is well. "I don't know what the Dark Web is but--where I'm from, people outside the City don't get any help at all."     Some of Petra's good mood is caused by Cinder's own happiness at the situation, since otherwise she'd find something to be annoyed with about a ridiculously selfless borderless doctor. "Mmm, you know, maybe there *are* programs like this in the City. Maybe they're just not big enough yet. I wonder." "Or they know reaching out would be dangerous and no guarantee it'd work out."     Petra, shockingly preciently, nods and looks over at the cluster of people across the lake, "And she said, right? The people here trust each other. Reporting back that 'it worked' would kind of ruin that." Then she excitedly beckons to Petra to follow-     Whatever Petra's thoughts are on the actual subject of the adventure, she's still being beckoned on one by a girl who called her cute a minute ago. She starts to follow, immediately revved into the first few steps of a jog at Rita's hand motion, but when she tugs on Cinder's arm to follow she stops to consider if she really wants to.     Looking back at Cinder over her shoulder, Petra tilts her head and asks, "Wanna run around with me and Rita? Or do you want to talk to Katrina more?" It's important, Petra knows, that lore elements like this be given their due attention. "Hi! I'm Rita."     Petra is less exuberant than Rita, and less familiar in the environment, but she's still visibly overjoyed to be tagging along. She's also got questions of her own, though along a slightly different axis. "Oh, like, if you don't mind-- how was it setting all this stuff up out here? I mean, with the journey and everything? How long did it take to get stable?"
Lilian Rook	'...You're...you're wonderful'     "Eh?"     Katrina takes in Cinder's instant admiration with too little naturality for someone who objectively does something self-sacrificing and kind on a daily basis. Perhaps an unfamiliarity with praise is familial. "Oh! Um. Thank you! I don't know if I'm that kind of a noble person, but it's . . ." Lilian looks down. "Just something you can't not do, right?" "Oh. Ahaha, yeah, kind of like that, actually."     Katrina shakes her head at Yuri, and says, "Yeah, well, there's a lot of sleeping in vans, and close calls with the scary stuff, and lots of overtime, and obviously bad sleep and bad schedule and tons of little bumps and scrapes, and especially keeping secrets, but it's also kind of balanced out, sort of, by feeling like you're actually doing something. That it matters, to someone. It's not just pointless work to be doing some sort of work. You know?"     'Or they know reaching out would be dangerous and no guarantee it'd work out.'     "Yeah. That too." Katrina grimaces softly. "It's not totally unjustified to consider that people from outside could be 'compromised', too. Which makes it worse."     'Think we could get some tables? Cold tea might be perfect for a day like this. Maybe we can catch up!'     "Oh!" Katrina snaps her fingers. "That's really smart! I'll--" "I'll take care of it. I came here because I wanted to hear from you. You won't get out of it that easily." "Gosh. You're really going to take that mean tone with your big sister?" "I've never been mean in my life." Katrina snrk-coughs, caught off-guard.     'Living out in the wilderness doesn't stop one from getting sick or prevent injury, and babies are surely still being born.'     "Oh yeah, that's huge." Katrina says. She crosses her wrists and swipes out her palms for emphasis. "It's really hard to have kids in the Urban Centers. They're basically all already over-capacity. There's a lot of hoops, and a lot of debt involved. Out here . . . I mean there's more space to grow than there has been since before the Industrial Revolution, hah. Some people value that enough that they're willing to gamble on a tiny chance each year that they might just die." She smiles radiantly at the thanks for 'looking out. "I'm totally telling you the same. I keep saying it, but I'm always surprised more and more every year how many friends she has." She can even say that to Rita's face, too.     §Sweet is a way to put it I guess. No one from her generation is normal. I'm abnormal for mine, so that's how we get along. She just doesn't see any value in pretending. She can't let things that bother her sit ignored. It's a good and bad quality. At least you always know where you stand with her.§     'Um, I won't bother anyone if I go talk to them, will I?'     "Mm . . . No, I really doubt it would?" Katrina says to Rita. She sounds slightly apologetic for openly analyzing it. "It's a shitty thing to say, but like, you understand why I'm saying 'as long as you act normal', right?" Lilian is too distracted to butt in by Rita focusing on her secret role as a little sister. She folds her arms and goes quiet, trying to look aloof about it and mostly just seeming kinda pouty.
Lilian Rook	'The men who were sent there to sabotage it didn't seem to think it was so cute'     "Yeah. Of course they didn't." says Katrina. Her mood audibly and visibly darkens. It's more severe than Lilian ever lets on. It makes her carefree tones more sincere. "They don't even really see it at all. Just the people behind it. The 'theory' and 'precedent' and 'future'. Throwing all your prestige behind a pet project like that; it's irresponsible. See to your PR stunts when you're done with your fucking two hundred year blood feuds-- ah-- Um. Sorry?" For what? Swearing? She was getting into the vehemence for answering Arthur, and he swears as he breathes.     She absolutely beams at Bond's praise her brother, too. "He was there too. He joined to try and keep us safe. I went after him. He's . . . Well, he puts on the businessman thing, to make life simple, and I respect that choice. What we both understand is . . ."     "You know how in those old zombie movies and nuclear apocalypse stories, it's always that humans are the scariest part? They hurt each other and kill each other, they loot and steal and strand one another and leave each other for dead when it's convenient? Or they take advantage of the chaos and do worse." Katrina breathes deep. "That didn't happen. The stories about it are popular, but that's not what it was like. People got scared. They went to get their families. They stuck to their friends, and ran to people they could trust. They helped each other. They shared things. They tried to save everyone they could, in their little ways. One in five of our 'Enlightened' did, too. That's a lot."     'Lil' Lil...'     "Come onnnnn!" Unable to take the heat any longer, Lilian pops off to grab the chairs and tea she promised.     '"Was it, perhaps, unnecessary that I sought you to look over her, then?'     "It was important." Katrina contradicts Tamamo with gentle vehemence. Her fists ball up. "It was important that you asked. I mean it. That told us what kind of person you are, and that's why we all decided to root for you. We're tired of seeing her get hurt like that; so we did a little more than usual."     'Oh, dear. Is that truly a frequent issue? I would have expected... no, I suppose it is rather different, here and now.'     "Not that often in any one place, but given the nature of where I get called, I see it a lot." Katrina says, with a shrug. "Places like Caelton, those usual colonies, the way they're always set up . . ." She looks off into the distance. To the east. "They understimate people. And because they do, people die."     'It's kind of poetic that that's how it'd turn out, with the Native Americans and stuff, huh?'     Katrina raises an eyebrow at Petra, blonde Texan, saying that, but it meshes nicely with her train of thought. "With the way things are now, open and centralized, with this huge power bloc, we've started forgetting how things were. Back when it was everyone for themselves, just little coalitions at most, we treated each other as capable and dangerous. It's just that now that we're sort of on the same side, 'independent' is getting synonymous with 'amateur'. Like if you're not with the Phantom Circle, you're some kid playing with herbs and sticks."
Lilian Rook	Lilian reappears shortly. Katrina takes one end of the plastic table off her hands, and getting away from the Warpgate a bit, closer to the scenic lakeside, she drops it with a little 'hup', then takes on another one. Chains come out one by one, back and forth from somewhere. Katrina stops to direct Lilian to a tea stash, and Lilian happily returns with local loose leaf, and bagged from the APC. Ishirou's cooler is a welcome addition, sat open in the middle.     'And Bryce too... but it's, like, it doesn't even look like this place is barely struggling along. It looks like it's doing pretty well? Are there any... I mean, I'm sure it's hard to keep going, but is there anything that's just barely not falling apart?'     "People are more resilient than we think. More resourceful too. People who were 'there' know that best." Katrina says, popping a chemical tab on a heating element base for a couple of kettles, then cracking open an iced tea. "We had knights and daimyo and shamans and monks and priestesses and witches and all that other stuff a long time before we had suits and telephones and flashy ID cards. A lot of these places really do fail. And when they do, everyone dies." It's a horrible place to take a break to drink, but her 'phaaaaah~!!!!' at getting a cold drink in this heat is an emotional buffer she might need.     "It's arrogant to think that only 'the heroes' and 'the experts' are good enough. There are more people than you can imagine; talented, strong, knowledgeable people, who don't want to go live on the Hidden Content and register with the central administration. They look after their communities, on their old homeland, because they want to. It's refusing to acknowledge that, and loading people up with tech that just delays the inevitable, that makes these things fail."     Rita running off is just fine, apparently. The basin is a big place, but the . . . village? Isn't. She comes up on deeply tanned people in hand-spun clothes, patched here and there, some new, coloured and patterned without stencils or logos. Leather belts and shoes, knitted sashes and bits of feather and pearl for accents, endlessly recycled steel and bronze where needed for tools and buckles. A few more are gathering over time. Children poke their heads from windows, letting out the smell of cooking. Fish from earlier today, gutted and drying, are arranged alongside rabbit and squirrel, far from the laundry. She can hear the distant hammering of someone putting something together by hand, from a house with a stone chimney, fuming and warm.
Lilian Rook	They find the questioning witheringly cute. Rather than get wary about someone who could be 'city folk', they talk to her as if they're warmly considering that she might want to move in.     They grow corn and beans and squash for their symbiotic, self-reinforcing cycle of growth and nitrogen exchange. There's rye for bread and apples, figs, pomegranates, cherries, and so on for fruit. Onions and potatoes; some others shipped in. The wooden houses are a group project where people help the family that builds one, after a marriage. The electricity comes from the wind, and from some solar panels, but mainly the hydrogen filters, scavenged from the desert, or brought it from outside, and well-maintained. There's seven hundred people here, and some go back many many generations. They quickly offer to show her anything she wants.     'Has there not been anything to speak of, since then, regarding that clandestine soldiery?'     "The Letter Agency doesn't know or doesn't care. This basin is older than they are. It's not that different from one of those hidden temples or sacred groves you've been to." Katrina says. "But we see them coming and going. There used to be a base not too far, but it might have gone under. There was a Titan-class Antegent there, after all. They've gotten busier lately, but I couldn't tell you more?"
Angela	''I don't know if I'm that kind of a noble person'' "I mean I don't know you, I just know you do this, and that's good enough for me." Cinder admits. "I'm sorry for uh--if I embarrassed you." Yuri nods. "Yeah..." She looks troubled, for once. "...But sometimes you let down your guard just for a moment..." Cinder seems confused by this comment from Yuri but doesn't dwell on it. "...But she's right, the work has a ''point'' to it." Cinder says. "That's how I can--yeah." Yuri smiles at Cinder. "Oh don't ever change, Cinder." Cinder looks over to Rita and says, "Mhm mhm!" despite, well, Rita being on the other side of that. But she doesn't really care because they are united... IN HAVING WARMTH for places like that. And for thinking Petra is cute. Cinder now thinks Rita Ma has GOOD TASTE (non-culinary) Cinder is distracted thanks to Bond chatting her up. She listens carefully and then laughs a little, "Y..yeah, I kind of got the vibe that it's similar like that. ... That's why what Katrina is doign is so important to me even if it's not ''my'' world, you know?" She (lightly) punches James Bond in the arm. "You're a good guy too, aren'tcha?" ''Tamamo says, 'No.' "W-well I think so, Ma'am. Part of my...personal taste I guess?" Yuri is being quiet as usual and Angela is still kind of marveling at Arthur's language. It's different from what she's used to and now that she knows it's just how he is instead of what she'd consider ''rude'' she's actually kind of interested in seeing where this goes. ''Am I fuckin' dumb about this?'' "I think your theory is sound enough that even if it wasn't accurate, you wouldn't be ''dumb'' about the theory." Angela says, simply. "Cinder kill any Alphabets you see." Cinder frowns. "I'll...try?" ''Maybe they're just not bg enough yet.'' "That's possible," Cinder admits awkwarldy. "The Outskirts are ''big''. But I do know they never came to my neck of the woods." Cinder loyally follows after Petra and Rita (unfortunately, she probably comes across as 'City' folk). Yuri watches after them, her expression inscrutable. "...Yeah, a single hand reached out can really change a lot. A group like this even more so." She says, lingering behind with Katrina instead. "You think about this more than most do," Yuri says. "Cinder and I aren't heroes, though, or experts. She's from the outskirts herself and I'm just a girl. We just--we both just got lucky, really. In the end, all most people needs is enough people to give a shit--you can't really make a technology for 'giving a shit' right?" My time is up. Yuri thinks, glancing after Petra and Cinder as they leave. But it's fine. At least you're better off.
Lilian Rook	'How *are* the wards for this location, by the by?'     "Actually some of the better ones I've seen." Katrina says, starting to pour hot tea. "They live here, so they're going to be diligent, right? And they're good about minimizing risks in the first place. I've seen contractors get sloppy and cut corners. It takes magic to keep the good ones powered; expanding leylines is expensive, and gets more so the bigger your city already is, and no one likes paying into it."     ' But I'm guessing Learning With Langley went and murked their asses for affecting mid-to-top-level cultural shit. Blurring the lines, kinda? Or, what was it? I don't know *shit* about politics, for real, yo.'     "Yeah . . . It's easier to keep the lie going after you realize it isn't true. That outside the walls is death." Katrina says. "It keeps people safe, and it keeps them in, and it keeps their value down if there's a few too many. It's easy to manage, and easy to allocate resources, and it's also easy to watch and police and show people the right things. It's not even as grand as some dark conspiracy; it just suits the people who get to vote just fine. Changing it is work, and risk, and no one wants to advocate for something so little."     "I'm keeping all this secret because the people want to be secret. And the people who'd know don't want to hear it."
Arthur Lowell	>Arthur: 'Kill any Alphabets you see.'     "See, not my style, but good energy for real." Arthur nods along with that. "I'm not about to get my murder on, but after the shit the Speak And Spell gang pulled, you should be shooting first and asking questions when you're out of bullets. Swords, whatever." He waves a hand awkwardly. >Arthur: Pursue the topic. Be extra-cynical.     "Fuuuuck." Arthur mutters. "No, I think I'm picking up what this is putting down." He paces a bit. "There's always been a kind of person whose whole job was 'keep the community together'. And they've always been, kinda, sink or swim about it. Either you do it or you can't. But... You get in that business on *merit*. And there's people, I guess, they want some clearer lines. The more that your Immunes types start spreading out into the pure-protection business, culturally, the worse the line's blurring gets. You get people, strong and powerful people, pulling off the path they're supposed to be on. Bunch of pretentious dudes put together a little settlement and pump out PR about noblesse oblige and the heroism of keeping something like that afloat, now you've got a lot of rank and file taking that to heart, getting into wilder shit. The culture spreads out."     He stops, and taps a foot as he crosses his arms. "It's trying to keep some big power monolith all stuck together. Why, though? If people get protected one way or another, what the hell's the point of all the bullshit control stuff?" He asks, a little too politically unaware to know the actual conclusion to draw from where he's gone with this. "It's..." He's tapping his fingers on the opposite arm now. "Why's it remind me of, goddamn, uh, that shit that happened in the Eastern Seaboard Urban Center? I keep getting that on hint popups." Whether that's figurative or literal isn't clear.
Rita Ma	"you understand why I'm saying 'as long as you act normal', right?"      That bittersweetly tickles Rita. She hesitates in parting, sort-of-laughs, and looks away. "I do. Thank you for looking out for them, instead of being polite. But please don't worry, Ms. Katrina. I've acted normal for most of my life."      - - - -      Petra following along puts a skip in Rita's step. She subtly takes point in the social interactions anyway, but thrives on keeping Petra (and Cinder!) in the loop: "Oh! Squash, corn, beans... isn't that called the Three Sisters? I read about it in National Geographic once! They've been doing that forever." "A lot of those fruits need pollinators, right? Do you keep bees, or are there wild ones?" "We use the fish bones for fertilizer! Do you do that too, or is the soil already good?"      "Cinder kill any Alphabets you see." "I'll... try?"      It's almost, but not quite, a little jarring when she beams at Cinder and Angela and says just as brightly: "Don't worry! I'll help, Ms. Cinder."      But there are no contradictions. Only nuances of care.      When the villagers offer to show her 'anything she wants', she takes only a second of tapping her cheek to figure out a way she could be useful. "Oh, do you fish with nets, or spears, or rods? Are you all done fishing for the day? I'd love to help! I'm good at it! And I can teach my friends, too."      She glances back at Petra and Cinder both, eagerly looking for any trace of enthusiasm. It's a gorgeous day on the lake!
Tamamo	She folds her arms and goes quiet, trying to look aloof about it and mostly just seeming kinda pouty.     For no particularly apparent reason, after being waved over, Tamamo steps up diagonally behind Lilian and rubs both her shoulders. This comes with no acknowledgment more verbal than an 'mhm.' She only has to give up on that after Lilian makes good on going for the chairs. They would, of course, make it a lot more comfortable than standing around to drink iced tea.     'It was important that you asked. I mean it.     ...that's why we all decided to root for you.'     "Ah..." Understanding dawns immediately with surprise, and Tamamo says, finally, "Thank you."     Wait. 'All'? Not 'both'?     'We're tired of seeing her get hurt like that.'     "I would hear more of that, if they are stories you would be willing to share." Quietly said, "She mislikes to mention being hurt. Perhaps, you have noticed this."     She can't really continue being even politely deniably secretive about asking about Lilian with Lilian present while also moving to sit next to her as the table is set up, which is Tamamo's next step.     Through this, she's not quite so distracted that she can't notice Xion's... impatience, is it? It's not like they've talked about it, but she's known the noirette long enough to guess at a mood and its reason. It'd be easier if Katrina was less prepared, in that way. She'd held onto some faint hope that mention of the villains hunting Lilian would offer a clear line, but... "Titan-class? Oh, the base was seen before its appearance? Then..."     She tilts her head, trying to construct a timeline on far too little information, but it's no good. Tamamo shakes her head.
Ishirou	Ishirou doesn't get a chance to take his cooler to the table, it's done for him.  He looks surprised, but not too too surprised, and he smiles.  "Thanks, Lilian!" he says to her and moves to sit down while listening to Katrina continuing to explain what they do here and where she goes and why.   Honestly, there is so much, and Ishirou himself doesn't have much to say.  It doesn't seem like they need help, and they have a game plan for everything.  These places need to be defended from those who would defile them... but as long as there isn't a threat from that then they can take care of themselves short of the largest of the monsters still roaming.   Ishirou sits at the table takes out a can of sweet tea himself, and pops it open, taking a big drink out of it.  He doesn't have anything to add to this, instead remaining quiet and listening for a change of pace today!
James Bond	You know how in those old zombie movies and nuclear apocalypse stories, it's always that humans are the scariest part?     Bond's smile turns a shade sardonic as he nods his understanding. Maybe he knows where she's going with it, or maybe he's found a bit of gallows humor in something else about the line of questioning. That didn't happen. The stories about it are popular, but that's not what it was like.     "I wish I could say I always suspected it wouldn't be that way," he says, taking a pull on his cigarette. He turns to exhale away from her. "But those movies--or, at least, one in particular--scared me, almost as much as the American president at the time. And both of us took entirely the wrong lesson from it, besides." His blue eyes spark with a bit of grim amusement.     "I used to think about the world like that," he says, staring briefly at the blue-grey tendril climbing skywards from the end of his cigarette. "Like those men from the Agency." He feels more comfortable saying it now that she has. "Not as a thing ultimately made up of people, but as a thing moved primarly by ideas. 'Precedents,' 'theory'--" He pauses, flashing another dry smile at her, "'Our way of life.' It's very easy to convince yourself that the people in front of you can be harmed by those things."     "And so they become bigger than 'people.' 'People' become hazy. The less you see them, the less you understand. The easier it becomes to let that twist into thinking the paranoia of those movies is based on something real." The cigarette hovers near his frown, slowly smoldering. "I wonder, sometimes, when exactly it was I started to change from that way of thinking. Twice, now," he says, after taking another puff, "I've reached out to someone in that life, at considerable risk to myself. I'm only sure that one of them made a difference--but I think doing it was important. Necessary, for being able to see 'people' again. I hope those men have an easier time of it than I did."
Xion	The blanket of normal American - normal human - simplicity, homespun and lived in and treated with care like a quilt blanket, is as cozy as one. Xion continues to tap the top of her chilled sweet tea can, idly flicking the very top of the tense metal tab with the soft click of her bare fingernail. Tamamo had certain seen similar, as had most who had spent time around Xion outside of 'operations' - a nervous energy, a compellation to motion with nowhere to go. Composed in a kind of hanging motion, and idle-loop of unneded sword-hand clasped around unneeded can of tea, unneeded feet tapping against wantless ground. Her eyes reflect a tranquil lake, only half in the conversation now. Xion doesn't feel comfortable at parties, and just standing around mingling doesn't sit right with the Nobody. Celebrations aren't often comfortable spaces for her, and the wonderful mood with lack of anything to do slowly digs a crease into her brow. 'That's really smart!' Xion stifles a 'huh?', dissociated and mentally catching up as her idea is taken as more than Ishirou popping a crate out of subspace. Eyes focusing, she skims the context from her surroundings and flashes a smile to deflect concern. "Great," Lilian doesn't need help with tables. "I'll barely have to look forward to it, then." Shortly, there's tables and tea and a cooler set as a centerpiece, and Xion sways an ankle up to knee over the lip of the seating and sit down, murmuring a dull 'thanks!' as the tea is set out and served. She sets her can aside, pausing to 'soak in the atmosphere' once more while her tea steeps. Really, she needs a second to gather her thoughts. "I think it's the same, the cities and the... the humanity, the resilience towards wanting to protect something. Lots of people have it - the power to protect. And when the answer you've been taught, shown works, keeps things good for long enough for you to consider other problems goes one way -- like the Urban Center's answer -- then maybe it's good enough, and good enough, and good enough, and then it, itself, is 'something people have' and 'something to be protected', and they don't understand that there can be two things." Taking her teacup in both hands, Xion nods. "But people are resilient. That's true. When they find the ground that suits them, they can even thrive."
Trudy Grimm	> "Oh yeah, that's huge. It's really hard to have kids in the Urban Centers. They're basically all already over-capacity. There's a lot of hoops, and a lot of debt involved. Out here . . ."     Before the elder Rook has even finished, Trudy's got that big sincere sharp-toothed grin on her face, her eyes closed quite contentedly. It's almost like looking at a satisfied cat. Almost. She claps her hands once and keeps them pressed together like that.     "Ahh, that's good to hear. That people who wish to can start families on their schedule rather than someone else's," One eye opens, her hands sliding aside though staying together, "And with the whole community helping, and many other children to play with, it sounds far healthier too. Even with the obvious risks." > "I'm totally telling you the same. I keep saying it, but I'm always surprised more and more every year how many friends she has."     "Ahaha~" The witch's laugh is light and airy as she helps herself to a patch of lakeside scrub to seat herself on. Her legs fold together in a practiced way; she doesn't even put any thought into it, "I do my best to support Lilian in any way I can and I ask nothing in return. She's already given me more than I ever could have hoped."     Trudy's eyes, opened at some point, slide sidelong towards Grimnir. The old coot has at some point procured a collapsable fishing rod and has already cast it into the lake. Trudy leans forward until she can see his face-- his one eye is closed. The old man has dozed off, cozy in the desert heat.     "Useless," the witch chides in a fond tone. > "Actually some of the better ones I've seen."     She's pulled from Elderly Observations by a more relevant answer, returning her attention to Katrina, "Oh, lovely then! I had high hopes, but felt the offer was worth extending regardless." Her eyes close, contented and pleased once again, "It's only natural that a close-knit community like this would diligently maintain the very things keeping them safe. From what you mentioned before about the First Nations, perhaps my own methods wouldn't be particularly compatible anyway. So, for the best then if I don't meddle."     As Bond and Katrina briefly veer into movies as part of Katrina's metaphor for how the Onslaught truly played out; and James' acceptance of it, Trudy hums thoughtfully, "I should expect not. Skalds are ever known to spice things up for dramatic effect. To keep the audience, to draw new ears." She glances up thoughtfully towards the sunny sky, beneath the shadow of her sunhat, "'Melodrama', I think?"     "If skalds got to dictate reality, life would be a lot more exciting," Grimnir mutters without opening his eye.     "Unbearably so."
Angela	''See, not my style'' "I approve of your commitment to your style." Angela says. "Our circumstances are just a little different. ... Well I presume. I don't actually know you. Perhaps some day I will learn more of your circumstances and can judge properly." Angela says. "But I know what you're saying makes sense to me and since it doesn't--I am distressingly confident in your theory." ''Don't worry! I'll help, Ms. Cinder.'' "Oh that makes it a lot easier." Cinder admits. Lilian maybe got the publicity but Rita still punched a tentacle through one of Gebura's arms like it wasn't there and survived drinking Melting Love. And she likes to fish! So Cinder feels very safe around Rita. The tentacles are nearly nostalgic. "I'd love to try fising." Cinder says. "It's been a long time so I'm out of practice." She isn't being shouty about it, but she does seem to be feeling MORE at home with every passing moment. "Definitely haven't done it with spears before though so if it's spear fishing I'll probably need a lesson!"
Lilian Rook	'Why, though? If people get protected one way or another, what the hell's the point of all the bullshit control stuff?'     Katrina sighs, explosively, and sinks into her chair. That's more Lilioid. "The end of the world is over. Humanity is saved. It's all uphill from here. There's always a brighter tomorrow." she says, gesturing with the can still in her hand. "Protected is a given, even though it's not. It's more of a given when you're already far away from all of this. So it's the usual things again. Competition, feuds, old enemies, wealth, power, control, prestige, whatever. People turn back to it fast. More and more over time. Especially the 'new money'."     "And if you mean the riots, it's because we all stopped hiding and then stopped pretending we were scared of the people."     The locals are delighted that Rita knows literally anything, even from NatGeo. The soil has been cultivated for generations. The bees are a point of pride to show her, along with frogs, for some reason, as if they'd both be especially rare; both are wild. Rods and nets are the way of things; the lake actually gets pretty deep. Fishing goes on until dusk. If Rita wants to help, three people are already offering to cook her something up. A boat for her cute little friends is something a greying man with a falcon feather earring offers her freely.     'You think about this more than most do'     "I want to say I have to, like Lilian does, but I honestly don't." Katrina sighs. "Bryce is better at separating it than I am. I just think about it because I haven't been able to stop. Not since Mors Caelorum." Lilian looks at Katrina with a mild shock equivalent to hearing her use a low-grade slur. "Haha . . . yeah. Technology for giving a shit. Wouldn't that be nice? But we were able to do that, way back when, too."     'I would hear more of that, if they are stories you would be willing to share." Quietly said, "She mislikes to mention being hurt. Perhaps, you have noticed this.'     Lilian is still slightly red-faced at Tamamo spotting her pouting and capitalizing, but is still quick to pull out Tamamo's seat for her, then her own nearby, shuffling slightly on the less-than-soft surface. Katrina looks to her, and Lilian looks down, then looks to Katrina after reluctantly acknowledging that Katrina's waiting is important.     "It's not pride." she says to Tamamo. "Or as if I'm frightened of it. I just don't see any point. What would that do except make you worry about anything similar? I'm not going to guilt trip you; especially not preemptively." Katrina sighs, but it's the patient kind, where she knows more is coming.     "You're the first that worked, Tamamo. Not the first ever. I screwed up everything before that, by being weird and needy and controlling and trying too hard to please people and worrying too much about getting anything less than perfect. I was a teenager. Everyone was an idiot at some point. That's all." Katrina purses her lips like it definitely isn't 'all', but already considers this more than she'd usually expect.
Lilian Rook	"You grew up a lot faster than both of us." is what she settles on saying. "I know you did some things you aren't proud of, but I helped out because I knew, even back then, you wouldn't unless you felt like you had to." "Not now. Please." "That wasn't a normal kind or amount of stress to be under. You weren't a normal amount of unsafe, and the way they were about you wasn't normal either. That's all I'm going to say."     ". . ." "I'm not gonna let you go back and fester just because your friends are here, you know." "God it was better when they were cooing over your nickname." "Haha . ."     'I wish I could say I always suspected it wouldn't be that way'     "Maybe it is somewhere. I don't know. It could be." says Katrina. "The end of the world isn't normal. Maybe if it's a bit less strange and overwhelming, people really do turn into beasts." she says, rocking back on her chair. "But most humans I've known who acted like monsters were people who either couldn't get anything or already had so much that they felt like they could; and none of them were people who were just scared and having everything taken away."     "I'm not a philosopher, or a politician, Mister Bond. Can I call you James? I just didn't read any of the books that Matthew got me. I wasn't interested." Katrina says, leaning onto the table and looking him in the eyes.     "Some of it is stuff that people actually saw. Some of it was made up to justify what was already there. I know that much. I've just seen a lot, and I think a lot, so I trust myself to know better about the places I go and the people I meet than I do any old dead guy or anyone who lives in an office paid for with taxes." She breathes deeply. "But, yeah. The less you meet 'people', the less you understand what a person is. That's true."     Though certainly full of her own thoughts, by comparison to Xion, Lilian's earlier uneasiness is now familiar. She's staring into her steaming tea and thinking something similar to wondering what she should be doing, too. She looks up for the last part. "I recall you drifting in the breeze until you found yours." she says to Xion. "I've been thinking about that. Protecting being the reason for people, and not people being the reason for protecting."     Katrina giggles without hiding it at Grimnir falling asleep. Lilian breathes in, and says "By the way. You said the ambulatory aviators were busy lately." "Oh. Yeah, we actually landed in Arizona, came north, then went west. Skirting no man's land, you know? Just far away from all the nuclear craters. I remember us seeing a lot of VTOLs around . . . I suppose over there would be Wheeler Peak? National parks aren't an uncommon place for old Otherside places to be left over. We live on one." "Ah. Interesting. I'm glad it's all the way to the east."     Katrina leans extra far forward, narrowing her eyes. "You're getting into trouble again." "And?" "Huh." "What? Didn't think I would admit it so easily?" "I guess! You had that tone." "What would be the point? I have enough dirt to take you down with me." "Hahaha! That's more like it!"
Trudy Grimm	Trudy hums, glancing over her shoulder at the Rook sisters as they tease and exchange and catch up and share news about the region. She's fallen silent for now, only listening, rolling her thoughts back and forth across her mind.     This is nice. This is what family should feel like.     The rolling thought gets mired in that inner darkness, sticking to it and sucking it down like bog muck. The witch's eyes drift away and down, a pensive and thoughtful look on her face.     She startles when a hand shoves itself into her view, clutching a wooden rod. Following the arm, she finds Grimnir's face, offering her his fishing pole.     "Take it, girl," the old man invites, "Dark thoughts scare the fish. Chase 'em away and show me what you can catch."     Hesitantly and without objection, Trudy takes the pole from his hand and focuses on that instead of her own problems. Grimnir settles back, producing his pipe. Once he's certain he's downwind of the others, he lights up some fragrant herb of indeterminant type and puffs away silently. A calming way to spend an evening, even if Trudy ultimately winds up with nothing on her hook by sundown.
Rita Ma	"Oh that makes it a lot easier."      Rita's shoulders scrunch in with her eyes-shut sunny smile. "Mmmm! Friends always do." But that's a bit of a deflection. It makes her happy to be relied on.      Before she gets on the boat, Rita absolutely gushes over the frogs- has she seen one before? She doesn't act like it, by the way she foists one towards Cinder like she's showing off a treasure- and insists on talking to the bees. "Thank you for helping these people so much," she says while bent down with one hand on the hive-box, exactly like how you'd speak to a child. "Do you know how much they're looking out for you, too? That they think you're sweet, even if maybe you hurt them by mistake?"      It's probably just a flight of fancy for her. Probably. At first she winds up to refuse the villagers offer of food, but then she glances back over the lake at Lilian, and hesitates.      "Ms. Rook? Can I ask you to do the food-trick for me again, in an hour or two? You're the best."      Being out on the lake is a wonderful end to the day. The haze of happy normalcy lays so heavily over the water that ideas like 'jumping in' or 'chomping a fish raw' don't even flit across Rita's mind. Her line pays out with a soft 'tchhhh' of the reel on the cast, and a contented sigh mirrors it.      "We haven't gotten to talk much, Ms. Cinder. But you're an important person to Ms. Petra, and I like you, so..." She trails off for a moment. The water ripples with a bite. She doesn't take it. "What are you going to do when the corporation's project is finished? You and her both. Can you just retire?"
Tamamo	'I just don't see any point.'     "Mm," says Tamamo, holding her glass of cooled sweetness to her lips with both hands.     'What would that do except make you worry about anything similar?     That's all I'm going to say.'     "I might go and punish someone in your stead," she says, far, far too lightly, "but I suppose this unnecessary." Sip. "This time."     'You're getting into trouble again.'     'And?'     "Yes, it is a rather significant spot of quite personal trouble, unfortunate as that is." Another sip. "But of that, we need not speak overly long, at the moment." They've spoken enough of it. She's certain, now, that just telling Katrina where the problem is will end up with her trying to get there first.
Arthur Lowell	>Arthur: 'I approve of your commitment to your style'     "Hell yeah, that's 'cause I'm the STYLIN'EST." Arthur declares, dramatically, flashing broad grins, flashing a pair of finger-guns and a wink at the Angela-tablet. "But I don't judge anyone for taking another approach." >Arthur: It's the usual things again     "Shit, what, so," He shakes his head a little, squeezing his eyes shut for a bit. "They want all that shit together in one mashed-up chunk so that they might get the chance to be the one with the hands on the wheel? Man, this *sucks*. There's gotta be a fuckload of people who'd want to push the Letter Agency to do what they did. Man, I hate this crap where there's no one person to go break his legs and fix the whole thing. How are we supposed to protect the next Caelton from the next Man in the Moon problem?" >Arthur: Don't have that quest yet, wait until later!     Big ol' heavy sigh. Well, hanging out never hurt anyone. Arthur will spend the rest of the day here, at least, until Lilian comes up with another stage of the plan to keep taking on the Letter Agency. Katrina clearly knows what's up, so he can depend on her and on Lilian to find a real way forward, as opposed to his vague grasping in the direction.