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Petra Soroka	Petra's reimagining of the city of Quicknest, capital of the former Kingdom of Quicknest and current minor territory of the Eggman Empire, has taken a considerable skew into the latter aesthetic since the last time most others were here. The process of rebuilding the city into an unrecognizable technologically-advanced urban construct has accelerated noticeably, with swathes of buildings being knocked down and strange assemblies of scaffolding erected around large pits blasted into the ground. Wonder what that's about!     Whether for Aidan or otherwise, there's not really any time to sightsee and find out. The warpgate opens to the castle plaza, with the ambient killer robot density as high as it's ever been, and a shuttle to take you straight to the arena. It's not exactly guarded, and doesn't come across as Petra wanting to 'escort' the heroes out of mistrust; rather, the route that the shuttle has to take them through the city is indirect and weaving around small substreets and even through buildings occasionally, as many of the major streets of the city seem to be arbitrarily blocked off for reasons such as construction, or power outages, or a bunch of Lobotomy Coporation agents loitering around shoulder to shoulder to talk to each other while somehow blocking access to the entire street. Still, it's hard to imagine safely sneaking off to gather intel unless you really wanted to put a lot of effort into it, and the comfortable leather seating of the shuttle discourages you from wanting to.     That tenor of welcome-- comfortable, considered, and both emotionally and materially invested-- seems to be consistent with what Petra's arranged at the arena itself for the adoring and broadly ideologically opposed audience. While most of the arena consists of typical stadium seating suited for a modestly small gathering of thousands at most, the location that the Elites are guided to *today* is the private VIP viewing booth. Couches and ottomans, cushioned bar seating with a perfect central view over the entire pit below, enclosed overhead and even somewhat temperature controlled; it's not the pinnacle of luxury, but it beats plastic stadium chairs.     Ratbots with little bowties float around with platters of hot and cold snacks. Heyalexa (a mindless robot with an Amazon Alexa attached to her face) mixes drinks in the room behind the seating, serving Alcoholic Beverage Cocktail 12 Ounce Fruity Flavored Mixed Drink Stirred Glass Promotional Free For Valued Customers Bonus Deal. Heyalexa is also wearing a bow tie, to complete the atmosphere.     Aidan, meanwhile, is granted the opposite treatment. *He* isn't trusted to not pull anything, so robots armed with lasers and various pointed objects split him off from the group to lead him to his own designated room before entry into the arena. Concrete, ground level if not somewhat underground, it seems more like a holding cell than a prepatory room for an arena fighter, and Aidan has to wonder for a moment if he just waltzed his way into an actual cell in the middle of Petra's territory while surrounded by death bots. It isn't too long, though, before his worries-- at least *those* worries-- are dispelled when he's directed towards the heavy metal gate that opens up into the arena pit proper, through which he can hear Petra announcing.
Petra Soroka	"Alright, everyone, I'm kind of as confused how we got here as anyone! But Proudpick's been running his mouth too much to not get some of his teeth kicked in, so here we are, watching him fight *in* Quicknest for the very first time, while still somehow not fighting *for* Quicknest!"     Petra actually seems to have... dressed up for this? She's sitting in the arena itself, on top of the roof of one of the metal fake buildings scattered in the pit, which looks more like a map for a first person shooter than anything else. She's wearing a fairly loose approximation of a martial artist's outfit, with a sports bra under a tank top and sweatpants, but over top of that is an armor-like lattice of morphmetal to form a semifluid cuirass, matched by a morphic shortshort and round shield in her hands. She's also, shockingly, got eyeliner on.     "So since this is probably the literal, only time he's ever going to do something in Quicknest, and he made all that noise about 'challenging Xion to be the champion of the arena', I thought I'd add a little bit myself." Gesturing to Aidan with her sword, with the gate slowly ratcheting upwards to let him into the pit, "Proudpick, I don't know where you got the idea from, but sure. If you triumph over the fucking arena or whatever, then you know what? I'll free every single citizen of Quicknest I have, all at once. But to do that, you're not just fighting Xion and the ratmech; you're fighting me, too."     "So prepare to lose your one chance, Proudpick."
Angela	Becuase Gebura doesn't officially wreck the facility until next week, Angela can actually spare the time and resources to watch Petra and Xion throttle Aidan. Who knows, Angela thinks, maybe Aidan will win! Maybe his shield was just holding him back all along. Maybe the true power was within him all the time. Angela would kind of dig that, really, but she feels it's a longshot. Naturally, she can't ACTUALLY visit Quicknest but what she can do is (get Petra to) set her backpack up in her seat. One of the accentuator arms of the Eggpack is holding a glass of champagne and Angela has added a filter to her viewscreen to make it a little bubby and kind of put a drunk haze over it. They say you can get drunk off ambience and Angela is testing this theory. Sitting next to her is Cinder who is holding a Binah viewscreen. CInder is here because she always enjoys when Petra brutalizes someone. She thinks it's very hot. Is that normal, she wonders, to think that's hot? Probably. If a girlfriend that has a propensity to demolishing heroes is wrong she doesn't need to be right, honestly. Despite her dislike of pomp and displays of wealth, she is weirdly comfortable in the VIP Seats. She worries, again, that her adoption ruined her life by making her accustomed to wealth--she never wanted to be that kind of person... But well, the ratbots with the little bowties are cute. She looks to Angela for permission to eat snacks and Angela sighs and bobs her head. Binah, like Cinder, is hoping to see AIdan get crushed and demolished but she probably would also like it if Petra somehow lost too--Aidan is such the underdog that Binah can't help to want an upset. Hersngela ... isn't sure if she's going to enjoy this. She didn't even enjoy her own revenge, can she enjoy revenge vicariously through Petra? It's hard to say, but Aidan being the underdog in this match makes Angela feel like she's just going to be watching a beating. Which she doesn't really mind, since she's still rather sore with Aidan, but it's hard for her to get much pleasure at seeing someone already essentially beaten get beaten more. Hopefully Aidan says something noxious, she thinks, to reignite her anger. ''Watching him fight *in* Quicknest for the very first time, while somehow not fighting *for* Quicknest'' Binah sniggers a little but her real reason for visiting is to, hopefully, get to know Xion a bit more by watching her assault, in her words, 'a woodland creature'. She leans forward on her viewscreen and since her Meltdown hasn't happened yet--her big sadistic grin is easy to see by anyone who cares to look.
Kale Hearthward	"This... looks different than how I remember it," says Kale to anyone who's arriving around the same time he is. He's still got his rock-concert-sound-technician-level bright red headphones on, though they aren't turned up all the way anymore. He's *not* here to go sneaking off to grab intel. That'd be useful right now, but it'd be going against his word, which was given implicitly by accepting the invite. Still... it'd be nice to maybe just take a meandering route through the city, no harm in just happening to map more of a potential attack route while passing through, you know? The presence of roadblocks handily prevents Kale from being flexible with his reasons for attending, fortunately. ... Those thoughts are cast aside easily enough, though, as Kale takes in the welcome. She really is putting in the effort here, isn't she? And then he realizes he's underdressed. "Excuse me." He retraces his steps, running all the way back out through the warpgate, calling in an emergency wardrobe airdrop from his ship when he's back out in uncontested airspace, and then returning in black tie. Drinks first. "Hey. Give me something light," he says to Heyalexa, when he makes it up to the bar. "I have a feeling I want to start small, tonight."
Sarracenia	Instead of a certain loudmouthed princess coming along to support Aidan...the only Sundew Kingdom representative here is a fairly short piranha plant in a fancy butler jacket. He is pretty quiet, but introduces himself as 'Gregory, Sarracenia's personal butler' when first arriving. He seems to be here more out of duty than any actual interest.      He takes one of the Alcoholic Beverage Cocktail 12 Ounce Fruity Flavored Mixed Drink Stirred Glass Promotional Free For Valued Customers Bonus Deal. He listens quietly to those around him, but is really only here to be Sarra's eyes and ears. He even pulls out a phone to start recording despite it being almost guaranteed that the fight will be recorded anyway.      He does however have a flag that looks like it was handmade by Sarracenia. A red flag with her personal seal on it that she has hand painted (to the best of her third grader level ability) a picture of Aidan onto next to the seal. The plant creature sets out a flag stand for it and makes sure it is easily visible both from the stands and the field, then takes a seat close to it and sips his drink.
Shinmyoumaru Sukuna	Shinmyoumaru Sukuna has had surprisingly non-mixed feelings about Quicknest. Given she considers herself a protector of the weak, one might think that she'd be quite solidly on the side of the locals. And, against the Gale Empire, she probably would be... but here she isn't. Part of it is simple lack of knowledge. She's never been to Quicknest before it got taken over, after all, so she's never met a Quicknestian other than Aidan. It's just how things were. She thinks it was more of an invasion (and invasions happen) rather than an oppression. But more than that, when Petra said that she just didn't want them to *ignore* what she was doing, Shinmyoumaru immediately understood. How horrible it was to be considered irrelevant! How horrible to be ignored and have all your works glossed over! Plus, Petra is a friend, or at least a friend of a friend, while Aidan is a guy she's met a couple times and never been close to. So Shinmyoumaru is inclined to be positive toward Petra to begin with. Shinmyoumaru is content to be guided. "It looks so different than the last duel!" She kept looking around on the trip down, but didn't try to break away - and in the actual VIP booth, she's attentive, having not expected Petra to increase the stakes and applauding when she does. Shinmyoumaru is also a snack thief and has been helping herself to anything offered by the ratbots, and the drink, despite being about four feet tall and having a kind of childishly round face. SHE says she's an adult. She doubts Heyalexa will object. She doesn't need to worry about meeting black tie. All her outfits look fancy; this one is no exception, being something like a kimono worn with a frilled underdress. It's primarily red, edged with black and gold that matches both the obi and the lacquered bowl she's riding in, with a leaf-and-reed pattern in yellow and pink. It's similar to but not identical to the ones she's worn to Elibe, which are more combat-ready and utilitarian.
Xion	Xion had gone through her day the same as any other day's morning. She got up, washed her face, brushed her teeth, checked her phone in front of the vanity mirror in her all-white room in the Land That Never Was, and leaned over a piece of notebook paper. Paperwhite was like an ashen grey on the fully-saturated pristine white of her vanity. She had gotten a whole bunch of paper from Namine, who always was going through notebooks and sketchbooks and albums, and laid it out with a comfortable pen in her hands. The clear blue plastic ends with a tapering, a grey tip, an inked rolling ball. Biting channel to paper, she composes pensively. Roxas,     I write one of these every time, but I never hope to deliver them.     I hope they're never delivered. News of a defeat-but-worse. And this time, I wouldn't expect you to understand why. It would be stupid, but, Her pen leaves an impression, a scraping crease to the page, heavy from hand-force and imparting no greater ink to the page from the ball-point except an oily smudge at the top of a barred line.     Hearts, I think, are stupid often. Something that never has to be smart. Something that always wants, screams for it, and cries when it isn't fed. Xion releases the tension in her hands, stress and strain squeezed and released out of white knuckles and strained-red fingers. The pen had become slightly bent in her grip, so Xion set that one aside and pulled another out of the package in her vanity drawer.     I hope you don't have to read this one. I love you.     -Xion Setting aside pen and folding her paper up into letter folds, Xion places the loose trifold of lined paperwhite onto the vanity-desk, and sets a checkered black and white medallion atop of the reaching-open folded arms of the paper. "There. Okay." Xion sighs, and pushes her too-white chair out, standing to turn to her closet of identical coats and her dressers of everything else. "Now to get ready for the rest of it." --- "So you don't need me to just, abduct him?" Xion asks Petra on the phone, ear to phone to shoulder carefully so she can floss her teeth and coordinate the last minutes of the booking. A bounce from black-socked foot to opposite heel, a nervous kind of wiggle that gave her enough energy for multiple tasks as time dwindled out, the rush of hourglass grains giving her a nervous buzz. "I can definitely just abduct him." A beat passes, moving past eyeteeth toward molars. "No?" Slight surprise with paused thread. "Well, that's probably better. Sure, just send him to a gate, you can make a gate into your arena directly right?" Another beat, as Xion switches sides. "Sure! Thanks." That settled, Xion can work through the bottom teeth (much harder to talk around!) and finish pulling on her coat.
Xion	--- Xion doesn't enter with the escorted group, doesn't show up in the car, doesn't appear until the viewers are sent to the VIP booth, and Aidan is prodded out the arena gate and into the bloodsport ring proper. There, she is, seated on what to Aidan appears to be air. Dressed in black from head to toe and accented in pale silver draws, the normal look of her blue eyes and noirette bangs is hidden by the cowl of her hood. Arms clasped behind her, she truly leans on a deeply buried weapon-length, sitting on a broad blue hilt and grip. Before her, her legs are lightly crossed, right over left, the shine of her black boots more welcoming than the empty and only loosely directed shaded-glaring. "I was going to find you, myself, and make you pay for what you said... but you took it back. I was going to pull you aside and demand you answer for your hurtful use of people's dreams, and lack of honor, but... You've given it up already. The only thing I'm here for, all that's left for me to do: is make Lilian smile." Xion pushes off her buried blue-and-black hilted keyblade that she sits against, taking a step forward, than a second. Her arms shift from crossed, to closed-fist and at her side. The flat of her tone matches the flat and mirthless line across her cheeks. "And I've got just the tool." It is then that Lilian takes her attention - such as it is - off of Aidan's arrival to glance back at the box -- Petra, Lilian, all the others. The 'glance' isn't real - her cowl makes the motion a still-hidden shift - but she looks over her shoulder all the same, seeing through something as simple as shaded cloth the presences beyond. Nodding slowly, her attention cants back, though her shoulders stay square on. She's not turning her back on her opponent, not *right* at the start. Reaching into her coat with a stiff hand that breaks into seeking fingers before sliding through the pocket, Xion pulls out a very tangible black iron clock-key, archaically toothed and capped with a thick ring for a rope-twine band. There's not a use in comparing it to the size of her hand when she throws it skyward casually, catching-collecting golden light and spinning it into a swarming purple. There's no need to cut in an arena meant for blood -- Petra's prepared ratbots are plucked from about the cordon, extra Assorted Weapons For Robots Easy Attach Weapons Plug And Play Claws Spinners Clamps Saws Torches Very Easy Effective being peeled, selected, collected, swept into the 'Champion's Door' behind Xion with the travel of her strange black key. Stomp-scuttling into the arena, bristling with every kind of forward spinny, stabby, clampy, or zappy, the RATADOR (working title) menace-drives into the arena, and then another segment, and then another, each segment a meshed-together ratbot body with component legs. Chained tail-to-snout together, it keeps coiling out of the gate until dozens of the carapace//iron black segments studded with every kind of mail-order weapon have completely surrounded the arena ring, cutting off both exits and completing the encirclement. Reaching behind her, Xion draws her buried keyblade with a flourish, pointing it out at Aidan. "Go ahead. Say something. Make this make sense to me. Maybe you can still find your way to honor at the end of a blade." Or several hundred wicked cutter-saws on the massive What If I Kept Stacking Rats mechanical menace!
Ivy Carrow	"It's just not a good look."     "The Dame Commander will be there, I'm pretty sure." She was dressed down...As much as she was EVER dressed down, anyway. Her left arm was still a wicked claw, with her cloak draped over her back, a tanktop over a fishnet undershirt and distressed jeans. "How bad could it be?"     "They NEED the Dame Commander." Alex sighed, "And they don't like her besides. You're new on the scene--WE'RE new on the scene. Untested, untried, unknown. When Rothchild makes his move, we NEED the benefit of the doubt."     "And we won't get it standing back, refusing to take a side." Ivy said, pointedly. "Besides. It's my day off."     "...Maybe you're right. Maybe it's better. But...You're our Gate-Captain, Ivy." He rubbed at his eyes. "People will always think you always represent us. Even when you're off the clock..."     "What, do you want the job?"     "You know I can't, even if I wanted." He rubbed his eyes. "And I don't."     "Oh well!" She shrugged. "I'm still going."     "...Take care, Ivy."      |                                           |     Ivy quietly appraised the warpgates, wondering whether they could have outcompetted the bid for gate management, if they'd come earlier.     She doesn't seem intimidated by the prestige of the entourage. "She's really pulled out all the stops," Ivy rubbed her hands together. "Shame it's being wasted on him. A grand battle. An immaculate stage. For a petty little man who'll mindlessly do the last thing he's told to do."     Ivy raids the snacks, claims a drink and sits down in the stage. "That's some nice presentation..." She admired, as Petra made her introduction in the ring. Xion's mention of Lilian made the corner of her mouth quirk approvingly upward. It's no mystery which side she's rooting for.
Lilian Rook	Being shuttled to the arena in-- well, as much luxury as Petra is competent enough to coordinate, is Lilian's baseline expectation. And dressed like she's out for a spring vacation, she doesn't necessarily not fit a cute little touristy shuttle ride around town.     Comfy leather seats are an ideal environment for a halter top and skirt a little shorter than her usual, green and chartreuse arboreal pattern and unusually frisky white in order. A (new) designer bag and white strappy heels make for probably about the least Lilian has ever worn in public (a very low bar to clear), which means an innocent city conquered by a supervillain with all of its people turned into mindless robots is the most comfortable 'public' has ever felt.     Her bracelet is visible next to a glittering bangle that matches her hairpin. The fact that her black thigh-strap holster is partially visible doesn't seem to matter to her. Her fixation was colour coordinating lipstick and eyeliner colours until she got coral and moss.     The ride is a perfect place to fondly read a book that has nothing at all to do with magic, look out the window, take in the sights, and wave like the queen of England at LobCorp agents. The VIP booth is worthy of a pleasantly surprised sound of satisfaction, wherein she makes herself at home straight away, cozy in the corner seat right up near the window with both the live and televised view. Such is her effusively good mood that she orders a prosecco mint julep and just swipes a credit card.     'Gregory, Sarracenia's personal butler'     "My deepest condolences."     'Excuse me.'     "Excused."     'It looks so different than the last duel!'     "Oh? Who was that against? It looks like she's been having quite a bit of fun here, despite her moaning."     Lilian, comfortably seated, book resting in her lap, ice cold drink to her lips, scans the arena below, then glances to Cinder and the Eggpack as if neither were actually there. "It's unusual to see her try this much at anything. It's even sort of refreshing." she says to Angela. "Still, doesn't that arena look sort of like . . . is that a video game?" The spaced between words are somehow audible. She dimisses it after a moment's consideration. "Well, no matter. Xion is . . ."     The nod towards her causes Lilian's relaxed little smile to vanish. Her lips twitch in a moment of tension. Then she laughs through her nose, presses her fingertips to her forehead, and flips her hair back with a sigh. "Xion is perfect. I know what that robe means. I should be watching more seriously." Lilian eases the book off her lap, crosses her legs, and leans forward in her seat, chin on palm on knee and staring intently.     Lilian blinks in the next thirty seconds.     "What in god's name is that?"     'Shame it's being wasted on him. A grand battle. An immaculate stage. For a petty little man who'll mindlessly do the last thing he's told to do.'     Lilian smiles in an odd little way that's only visible by her reflection in the window. "It isn't wasted." she says. "It's for me, not for him."
Aidan Proudpick	You gave up your drive. Stop trying to impress people who hate you. I could kill you and no one would come to help you. A glance at the scaffolding. A frown. Only to be yanked away. At this point, he's okay with being surrounded by deathbots. He has run his mouth enough to just be what he's earned. Being in the cell alone with those words is the hardest part of anything. He simply sits. And waits. Patient, quiet. Aidan's stride into the Arena is purposeful. Like a fencer moving up to a battle. Or someone moving to their execution with their head held high. No excited smile and eager swagger. But no grim determination either. No fire burns in his chest. On his arm is a small shield, a bit bigger than a buckler, hard wood reinforced with steel. In his other hand is a gun, a long quasi-steampunk device with glowing blue chambers. Mussed, wounded, back to his cloth layered armor, and back to pre-multiverse level of hair care. Desaturated somehow. The only thing I'm here for, all that's left for me to do: is make Lilian smile. He stands there, trying to think of what to say back. Something deep, something profound, something that matters. But all the words he could say mean nothing coming from his lips. Instead, he just sets his shield higher and nods towards her. Determined to accept that punishment. He earned it. I'll free every single citizen of Quicknest I have. There. A spark. A glimmer in his orange eyes. A tiny bit of flame in his heart. A reason to grab his gun tighter. A reason to stand up straight. A reason to burn everything he's got. Aidan drops the gun into the holster on his back, holding both hands in front of him. Two balls of wind, compress them together. Eaten almost like a pill. Wind escapes from his lips, his fingers, his arms, drifting white lines of overabundant life breath. A glance around the arena. He's earned all their scorn. No one he needs to impress. But when his eyes fall on Gregory, a little smile finally forms. It's enough. It's enough for today. Xion demands an answer. Aidan turns back to her, watching the ratbot unfold. Xion's impressive keyblade, which makes Aidan watch in wonder. Even Petra's metal armor. "I said everything. The people I wanna save demanded something of me. I wanted to do anything for them. I knew I'd lose." His gaze doesn't waver. "I did it because they called me a coward. I even swung a couple punches. I did it because I hate being bullied. And I gave up my dream to right one wrong." He thinks about saying something else. 'I won't lose here.' 'I'll give it everything I got.' Meaningless drivel. No more extravagant gestures. Aidan holds his fingers out, fingers crooked. Arrows of wind fill the air in front of him, lancing out towards Petra and the Ratador. Aidan takes off running to the right, trying to keep ahead of the Ratador X.
Kale Hearthward	> "She's really pulled out all the stops," "You think maybe she had to pull out all the stops?" comments Kale to Ivy. "Like, if the main draw turns out to be disappointing, you *have* to provide some sort of side entertainment and extra ambiance." > "It's for me, not for him." "I agree it's not for him, but I doubt it's for you, Ivy," says Kale to Ivy, even though it was Lilian who said that. "I didn't think Petra even knows you that well?" Then he pauses. He frowns. "No, wait, I didn't hear that from..." he says, mostly to himself. After a few moments, the headphones come off. "Apologies. What I meant to say was, see, I was right," he says to Ivy. "Also, hello, Dame Commander." Kale's headphones come off just in time for Aidan to start talking, which he visibly regrets. "That's - mmmh. Really." "So this is the New Proudpick. Or maybe the death of the Old Proudpick. 'I won't lose here'. 'I'll give it everything I've got'. That's what he's thinking but not saying." Kale clasps his hands together. "Fucking finally. He's not getting any points for things he *doesn't* say, nobody does, but at least he's started keeping them to himself."
Shinmyoumaru Sukuna	Shinmyoumaru sees people she recognizes, which is nice. Angela, Lilian, Cinder... even Binah, a bit, though she's less familiar with her. She's pleased enough to stick even more firmly with the group, drifting here and there but never going far. "It was the duel between Ceri and Sarracenia," Shinmyoumaru replies to Lilian. "They had it here, because it was somewhere Ceri could get to... I guess she's not allowed to travel most places. I was the arbiter for that one, and I was trying to find a good location for it." "It wasn't... bad or anything, but it definitely wasn't so..." Built-up? Under construction? "...it was simpler," Shinmyoumaru settles on, and takes a long drink from the twelve-ounce cup she has acquired. She asks Kale, suddenly, "Are you from where Aidan is from?" She can count how many actual animal-people (as opposed to people with, say, ears or tails) she's met on one hand, and have fingers left over, and it's clear they know each other. Or at least Kale knows Aidan. Shinmyoumaru leans forward suddenly when the ratbots swarm in. Rats, rats, infinite rats... Shinmyoumaru doesn't really like rats but the ratbots, at least, are cute in their own way, though the fact that they're connected and all the weapons do kind of interfere with it. She liked them better when they were just shuttling snacks around. "I thought he was going to fight her," Shinmyoumaru says, meaning Xion. "Or her and Petra... but not all of those!" She sounds impressed.
Hamada Haru	"The mixed display of sincerity and half-baked interest is nauseating," says a masked figure in armor colored in shades of brown, with the markings of a locust. Dynamic Era has appeared out of a gust of steam that ascends literally from the ground adjacent to Gregory, to whom he seems to be speaking in that moment. Dynamic Era, being a transforming superhero, is not dressed to code, has not been escorted, and although it's quite possible he has been spotted -- as a passing cloud of steam, he's utterly uninteractable but doesn't bother with being subtle, and the LobCorp Agents scattered about certainly know that a suspiciously-behaving cloud of steam is worth calling in -- and reported, he really hasn't done anything. He has no interest in intel-gathering, or otherwise engaging Quicknest as a thing that is his to solve. He meanders over in the general direction of Lilian, but it seems he's not going to be seating himself-- and he doesn't say anything for the moment. That he is particularly watching Xion, however obscured by the wide locust-esque (or grasshopper-esque, if one wants to look at it that way) eye lenses, is probably obvious. //Xion is perfect.// Dynamic Era makes an acknowledging -- probably more like agreeing -- noise. //I thought he was going to fight her// "He was," he answers.
Sarracenia	'My deepest condolences.' % Gregory regards Lilian as he says, "None are needed, Dame Commander. I serve her quite willingly. She does not mistreat me or any other of her subjects beyond perhaps her tendency toward readily expressing her opinion and expecting her subjects to serve her when called."      "I do not really know what all has happened between you two other than the what could generously be called 'discussions' on the radio. But, from what I can gather two very proud, very stubborn people clashed and despite little to no actual conflict you and she chose each other to hate. Have you and she ever actually fought against each other? Or have the only physical incidents been the overly angry slap and the rather unsporting gunshot?" The way he says unsporting makes it clear he thought it was bad form, but he is enough of a diplomatic sort to not push the issue. "You both seem far too preoccupied with the other considering what little has actually happened."      The plant sips his drink, then looks at Lilian again. "But, I am merely a butler and rarely leave the castle grounds. I may not have all the information to make a proper judgement."      'The mixed display of sincerity and half-baked interest is nauseating,'      Gregory seems on edge for just a moment as that steam appears beside him, but as it is revealed to be Dynamic Era he relaxes again. "I am not quite sure what you mean. My interest here is very little. I came to display my princess's support because she requested it. She felt the personal touch on the flag would mean more than professional embroidery or printing. I am not sure I agree, but her highness has her own ideas about things and dissuading her is next to impossible."
Hamada Haru	"It's because your interest here is very little that you provide the 'insincerity' ingredient of the mix you represent. Your employer is correct about the feeling exhibited by the banner. But you shouldn't be here at all. You're an ambulatory mixed message," Dynamic Era answers, simply.
Sarracenia	Gregory ahs. "Perhaps you are right. But, I will do my duty as requested by my princess, and she requested that I watch and record." Speaking of which, Gregory pans his phone camera over the crowd gathered before turning it toward the battlefield once again.
Lilian Rook	'No, wait, I didn't hear that from...'     "Getting used to it, are we?" says Lilian, without actually looking at Kale. "It sucks. Good luck."     'It wasn't... bad or anything'     "Of course it wasn't. Ceri won." Lilian says. "And I believe the travel restrictions are owing to company secrets about the corporation's current major project. The City is a place that can constantly enforce those sorts of ludicrous unilateral work agreements." she says, half-truthfully.     'Fucking finally. He's not getting any points for things he *doesn't* say, nobody does, but at least he's started keeping them to himself.'     Now Lilian looks at Kale. Slowly, silently, meaningfully. She slides her eyes back to the match. "He looks terribly resolute, for a man who posted his way into this situation." she says, with a hint of dry sufferance. "I have to wonder if he's aware that he stands no chance at all. Two versus one, in enemy territory, with no primary weapon, battered and strained and psychologically off, and both opponents are more competent fighters than he is. Does he have some sort of quarter-cocked scheme? Does he think he'll somehow muddle through it and be fine tomorrow? If I were in his place, I'd be shaking and wired."     'The mixed display of sincerity and half-baked interest is nauseating'     "Haru!?"     Lilian jerks upright in her seat. The confused little gasp she makes is four parts surprised to one part worried to two parts secretly pleased. "You came all the way over here for this?" she says, as a non-rhetorical question. "Beg pardon; I'm never quite certain what your schedule is. It's difficult for me to even tell where your priorities are; you're so deliberate and serious that it mixes up my sense for other people's impulses."     Letting her gaze turn away, Lilian shuffles herself a little deeper into her seat, drawing her knees together and loosely crossing her arms. Stopping time won't help her cool off the subtle awkwardness about her. The warmly anxious energy of suddenly feeling far too casually underdressed in front of someone she shouldn't be. She lifts her hand to begin fidgeting with a sidelock, even.     Have you and she ever actually fought against each other? Or have the only physical incidents been the overly angry slap and the rather unsporting gunshot?'     "Gregory . . ." Lilian softly breathes through her teeth. "You have an extraordinarily demanding job, supporting an extraordinarily demanding employer. I appreciate, honestly and sincerely, the lines you have to draw and the blind allegiances you must wholeheartedly believe in to be able to do what you do." Lilian says. Her tones are mixed up. She treats a butler like a prince and a princess like a butler. "Out of that abundance of understanding, you may pass along to Princess Sundew that I was nastily uncooperative, refused to answer any of your questions, and threatened to harm you if you asked any more of them. She'll certainly believe it."
Angela	''Xion is perfect'' "Mm... She is, isn't she? I wonder what side of her I'll get to see." Binah makes a show of leaning forward. Angela glances to Lilian as she speaks of Petra's effort and she looks up as if considering the phrasing. "She has put a great deal of effort here but she also puts a great deal of effort at Lobotomy Corp. I can speak little before she changed her outlook but I have never seen her be anything but giving her sincerest upmost effort. I am grateful you sent her my way, Dame Commander. Xion too fights hard for you. She is just a little more quiet, speaking softly and carrying a large keyblade." When Lilian waves at the agents, it should be noted there is a transmission beaming back to Lobcorp. While Cinder smiles and the other Agents in other areas of the arena are enthused... Mikey gasps back at Lobcorp. "She waved at us!" And he promptly faints on top of Baba (who is already asleep).
Petra Soroka	Lilian's arrival is obviously what Petra is most interested in; it's visible on her face to everyone when her eyes track towards the VIP booth and catch sight of her. Xion's declaration that she's here for Lilian's smile is echoed in Petra's body language, lighting up and becoming rejuvenated when the true audience for every bit of performance here-- from the bartending to the squirrelstomping-- glances her way. She sits up straighter when villain monologuing, and then pops up to her feet once Aidan shows himself, bouncing on the balls of her boots.     She's got a lot of energy and a lot of excitement; there's a lot of care put into the presentation of this fight here. Aidan as a person is nearly irrelevant to it all. She's just *really* glad to actually have someone to stomp on for Lilian's sake and for villainy's sake, and the fact that today they've lined up is a rare treat. "Go ahead. Say something. Make this make sense to me."     "See, look at that," Petra says aside to Xion, hopping down from the rooftop where she made her announcement to stand beside her. Aidan puffs himself up, swells like a prodded zit, inhales. "Look at how much more *proud* he got when I put that reward in front of him. Look at how little he cared to try to fight for it before that."     Her shortsword scrapes a shallow gouge in the dirt to her side, the metal staying slickly pristine despite the dust. "Whatever he says, it's just a response to the last thing you said to him, and nothing else. There's nothing persisting between moments for him; there's no goal he cares enough to fight for besides his own shitty boy pride. You'll just go insane if you try to find any sense in the things he says." "The people I wanna save demanded something of me. I wanted to do anything for them. I knew I'd lose."     "I'm going to slip the next protestor you talk to a twenty to get them to tell you to kill yourself, you stupid bitch." The thin halo of excess morphmetal orbiting Petra's waist pierces into the wall of the building construct in front of her, planting spikes as temporary footholds for her to run up, letting the bolts of wind crash through the wall behind her. Each morphmetal stair dissolves back into loose fluid after her boot leaves it, returning to join her up on the roof, where she cuts across to intercept Aidan on the ground. "I did it because I hate being bullied."     "Then you're going to fucking *hate* this." Petra suddenly appears in front of Aidan, dropping from the roof and immediately falling into a crouch with her leg stuck out, making Aidan stumble in his run. She follows it up with a hard slam of her shield against his back, toppling him the rest of the way to the ground, and follows through by twisting her whole torso into a brutish kind of shoulder-to-hip swing with her sword. Even if it doesn't connect, droplets peel off the blade from inertia, flattening into razor flechettes to stab into Aidan's back.     "You *came* here all on your own, you know? Right to the middle of my fucking territory! To fight Xion, even though your *own* reason for doing it didn't make sense anymore! You're *here* to be bullied, Proudpick! You gave up your fucking weapon, you gave up your whole kayfabe about oaths and vows and duels and everything, so what are you looking so *fucking* determined for?"
Petra Soroka	Petra puts space between herself and Aidan again once he recovers, even though she's-- at least somewhat-- restricted to close combat with her chosen morphmetal armory, and he isn't. That might be a tactical error, but it comes across more as toying with him, giving him a chance to scramble back up to his feet while Xion fills in the gap before jumping in to plant him into the dirt again. She's learned, after all; only strike and fade when facing a decisively inferior opponent.     "I can't even imagine what your next steps look like, you know? And I've got a lot of experience in embarrassing myself so bad that I fuck up everything. When you lose here, do you even have a plan to not just get fucking executed?"
Ivy Carrow	"It isn't wasted. It's for me, not for him."     Ivy visibly brightens, giddy at being spoken to. "Then, I'm sure it's worth it." She grinned, turning her eyes back to the fight. "I don't know much of Xion, except that she's fighting for the right reasons tonight. There's all kinds of Elites that don't really get the normal kind of press. But I like what I see so far."     "I agree it's not for him, but I doubt it's for you..."     The Gate-Captain gave Kale an odd look, on the edging of correcting him before he figures it out himself. "I suppose you were right, about some of it." She conceded, before moving straight into; "Just what was that about? The Dame Commander and I aren't hard to tell apart."     "She sees it too. I'm not surprised." Ivy murmured to herself, as Petra gloated. "Just doing the last thing he's told. I'm glad that other hero is working on this. This squirrel boy barely has the right to try, nevermind win."
Hamada Haru	//Perhaps you are right.// "I am. Not that it's your fault," Dynamic Era says, shrugging faintly. Already aware of her presence, and having moved towards it in fact, Dynamic Era doesn't register much surprise at the exclamation-- but there's a little. His head twitches in her direction a little too jerkily, matching the intensity of Lilian's apparent surprise. Her follow-up elicits a faintly thoughtful hum, his head turning away again to inspect the ongoing fight. "The stronger fighter doesn't always win. That's unacceptable here, but the stakes have been changed, so it doesn't matter... at any rate, I wasn't going to allow Xion to die to somebody looking to elevate themselves from 'nothing' to 'something' in a single instant. That's all." Rolling a shoulder, he adds, "Not knowing when to expect me... that's my bad." Another twitch of Dynamic Era's helmet tells Lilian that he noticed she's fidgeting. He inhales-- and then doesn't ask. The helmet masks a lot of the other bodily cues that would've been a tell, but the inhalation was enough. He looks away-- and snorts faintly in response to the ensuing exchange with Gregory. But a familiar voice calls his attention. Dynamic Era turns and follows the voice to the device that Angela is transmitting from. "Ah... you wanted to meet in person. I'm not going to detransform until this is over, but I suppose I should say hello. Hamada Haru, Kamen Rider without a mask." There's no more empty space where 'Tokyo Metro Rider Services' once was-- though only a few here would have heard this introduction. He raises a fist to knock illustratively on his helmet, "This isn't Kamen Rider gear... before somebody asks."
Xion	Aidan might have earned a punishment, but, he also brought his shield. Wasn't the whole point of teaching, learning? Perhaps not. In an arena with no escape, Xion glares down Aidan Proudpick as a vision of a duelist. He approaches, she points with starry-capped Starlight blade. Shouldering up his shield, Xion matches the unspoken resolve by gliding her right foot back and drawing her grip in and ready with her leading left. She wears her surprise in the pause of her shoulders, an extra bounce in the test of her balance, a curious linger in the almost-playful waggle sway of her keyblade in eager-ready anticipation. "Yeah, when Petra said she had a stake for the fight, it got me interested again, too." The tiniest little smirk curls the corner of her cheek, almost (but not quite) invisible to Aidan on the right side of her face with her left leading. Petra lands nearby Xion as she keeps Aidan at a range, and the shoulder-drooping of the coated Nobody is much more a tell of her mood. She gets it, but the duel is a serious performance for her - a recital of a particularly devoted sort. "You gave him a reason to bet everything again, Petra. Of course he's puffed up. He can't beat me to beat me. He loses either way. But," The noirette's tone dips. "I appreciate you making this real. It means I can do what I need to." "You let yourself get swayed, Aidan." Xion states rather than asks, knowing and telling, clear and judgemental. "Codes come before feelings. A code is you, and your feelings about it are the challenges placed in the road. But have you ever been tested on if you'll win when it counts? Probably." Knowing, knowing, knowing. Xion bets she has Aidan's number, while the Ratador X shifts and advances in centipede-path around the arena and down. Surging into an area-crossing path that scuttlingly scurry-tracks across to run into Aidan -- or over him! -- with dangerous stabbing-steppy clawed feet and close-proximity saw attacks, the Ratador menaces right into the blasts of wind and several segments take damage, ripping apart as wind magic rippingly gusts the bolted-on plates and blades, creating weak segments and gaps in the blades. Xion, of course, is not targeted at all by the Ratador, backstepping a few paces and chasing parallel to Aidan across the arena. "You forgot - you challenged *me*, on Lilian's behalf. Petra's helping provide the stakes, but you're still fighting me!" "And you were right -- I *am* 'gusting powerful', and I'm *always* at Mach speed." When wind shots get close to her, the chasing swordswoman skids to a halt in a swish of her long black coat to draw out two more items from her pocket - a red and purple metal medallions each bearing a kind of Helmeted Guy like Era, one more like a racer in white and red, very similar to Era in silver and black respectively. Both crackle in her grip, combustion-engine vroomVROOM! reporting when the Nobody twirls out the rest of her dashing-stop's energy into a crescent-slash of her keyblade. Fountaining forth like paintbrush through oilpaint, the penumbra of Heaviness (the timespace anomaly caused by the unlimited power of the internal combustion engine) crackles out and freezes the wind arrows in the air in static-clinging somehow-too-slow-to-move.
Xion	As soon as her feet are both planted again, Xion leaps perpendicular from paralell, and disappears in a thunderbolt leap-of-light, skipping all the way to the end of dangerously-close-in-melee. Close to her, the powers she's used are more clear, each motion having some mix of 'bionically enhanced' and 'vroom vroom motorcycle revving for no reason' as an accent. Both hands on her keyblade, she plunges it deep in the skipped-to-landing-frames, and Aidan has *almost* no time at all to react to Xion's powerful geysering launch-strike! Again, an effect of her summoned powers cloaks the earthen launch-blast in somehow less-than-lethal (but still very Bludgeoning and Space Transitioning) effects despite their near-pyrotechic effect on the arena beneath. Petra's opening is just Xion's player ~~two~~ one jump in point. "Now that you're fighting for something, your heart and your mouth both, what will you do?!" The cowled duelist doesn't follow Aidan into the air if she gets a connection with more than her words. Instead -- the Ratador X begins to target Aidan with a barrage of anti-air pellet fire and slower guided missiles! While Petra goomba-stomps down again in her diving attack, she's flanked by more-pyro-than-missile explosions and guided charges. Bosses don't hurtbox each other! That'd be silly.
Shinmyoumaru Sukuna	"Oh, I meant Quicknest, not the duel! The duel was great!" Shinmyoumaru still has lingering excitement over it; it was fun to watch, and Ceri did win. Maybe she wasn't quite as neutral an arbiter by the end, but she was still as scrupulous as she could be to make sure nobody interfered and it went off as planned. In her mind, that's a successful duel. She nods. "I know they're not allowed to travel. I think it's a stupid rule; they should be able to travel anyway, even if they have to keep some secrets." Shinmyoumaru has, of course, been to Lobotomy Corporation; she was there at the meeting, if nothing else. She knows they have secrets. 'He was.' "...Oh," Shinmyoumaru says. "Well I hope he's ready for all of them, because I want to see an interesting match." Which it turns out like it might be. She leans forward as action starts, Aidan firing at the group before Petra presses in, taking up space - Shinmyoumaru is very aware of how important space and posture is during a battle - and Xion does - "Kamen Rider!" Shinmyoumaru is delighted - she thinks she recognizes the sounds of boosts, even if she's not wearing the proper outfit - before Haru repeats those words, if not at her. Her head swivels over to look at him, as if magnetized. "You, too...?"
Sarracenia	Gregory bows his head lightly in thanks to Lilian's reply. "I appreciate your understanding in the matter. And, you are quite right in that she will readily believe that. My confusion lies in why you ensure she believes such things. She wanted - even up until the last few days - so badly to believe that you were a hero like the type in her storybooks because..." He pauses a moment, considering whether he should speak so openly about this to his princess's enemy.      After a few more moments, he shakes his head. "Well, the reason is not mine to tell. I am certain it would be one of the few times I have truly provoked her wrath if I did. What I will say is that I hold out hope that you two can find common ground and resolve all of this without further violence or malice. It seems to torture both of you, and two highborn ladies should support each other."      He bows his head again. "Of course, you already gave your response for her. I am merely curious on my own."      'I am. Not that it's your fault.'      Gregory nods lightly. "I suppose the benefit and burden of being a butler is that most do not necessarily see me when looking my way. I doubt Aidan will register my attitude. It is the princess and her support he will see thanks to the flag."      Gregory is watching the battle more closely now, ensuring he catches as much detail as he can in his recording. "It does seem unlikely that he can win against such odds, but if her highness has shown me anything it is that you cannot count out the underdog. Every now and then they surprise you."
Hamada Haru	//Kamen Rider!// Dynamic Era turns his head to consider Shinmyoumaru. He has no idea who this is-- it clicks when she follows up with a question. He shakes his head, "I'm not a Desire Grand Prix Rider, though I am a sponsor and supporter of that event. You must be a player. Good luck-- the potential of a wish at the end of it all is a better possibility than most Kamen Riders receive. I was Kamen Rider Tetra, of the Tokyo Metro Rider Services. However..." He raises his left hand to one side, an object materializing from shimmering red voxels within his grasp. The driver that he displays actually is QUITE similar to the Desire Driver, though it's 'off' enough that it's obvious it's a derivative or related design rather than quite the same thing. One major difference though is that it looks like something scorched open the ID core insert socket. "I had to do away with it. It hurt people independently of me," he says, shunting it back into storage. //It is the princess and her support...// He nods in reply, but has nothing else to say on the subject at the moment. With regards to Aidan's chances of victory, he says, "I already said the strongest fighter doesn't always win. And 'underdog' comebacks really don't surprise me. I wouldn't consider him one anyway."
Kale Hearthward	> "Are you from where Aidan is from?" The word 'unfortunately' almost passes Kale's beak. He holds it back. "We're from neighboring countries in the same world. It's like..." Kale tries to recall what he knows of Shinmyoumaru's world. "... Gensokyo and Higan? " He doesn't actually know much about those places besides the names and the geographical knowledge that they're adjacent. "Something like that." > "Getting used to it, are we?" "Yes. Fortunately nobody's gotten on my case about it, which has been... unexpected." Is Lilian included in that group? Kale's own surface thoughts don't reveal whether she is or not. > "Just what was that about? The Dame Commander and I aren't hard to tell apart." Oh, right. "I was suddenly granted mind-reading a few weeks back. I'm getting to grips with it. Blocking out my other senses helps it from being overwhelming, but it's not always accurate if I do that. Like telling who's saying what, sometimes." Especially if one of those people has gone through Immunes training. > "He looks terribly resolute, for a man who posted his way into this situation." > "Does he think he'll somehow muddle through it and be fine tomorrow?" "Actually literally just stab me in the leg the morning of, if I get in a hopeless honor duel thing like this, Lilian," says Kale. "If doing that would have the same net effect and save everyone the time and effort and awkwardness." "I don't think he *has* a plan. I think he's just... here. Like some sort of holistic momentum from before is still happening and that's what's pushing him, like a puppet instead of any conscious decisions on his part." > "I'm going to slip the next protestor you talk to a twenty to get them to tell you to kill yourself, you stupid bitch." Kale's pulling his phone out at this point. <Boots-1: Hey can we withdraw some twenties from the mission fund> <East-3: Are you bribing someone to try to get out of medic training> <Boots-1: it's not that, it's to try to get proudpick to kill himself> <Boots-1: or not literally kill himself but at least be a satisfying object lesson for him> <East-4: Maybe you shouldn't hang out with Petra so much, Captain> Kale puts his phone back away. He'll just have to follow up on that later.
Aidan Proudpick	The entire Multiverse is here. Everyone to watch him get pounded into the dirt. Aidan tries to clear that out of his head. Whatever position he's in, he's earned it. He can't think of himself against the Multiverse. It's himself against himself. Shaking. Wired. But there's a hope. Against Lilian, it wasn't never tell me the odds. Here? In this moment? Against these two, in this single moment, it burns through him. 'I have to do this. I want to do this. I CAN do this. For them. I'll do anything for them.' Tomorrow, that flame will be gone again. And he'll have to find another reason to get up and do his duty. And once the people of Quicknest aren't outside his base, looking at him expectantly, he'll have to find another reason. The top of the pit looks so far away. Climbing just to climb, to reach the top and feel himself worthy of the title Knight, that fire has been snuffed out. Falling into the abyss of despair isn't an option anymore. Aidan has no clue that in days, months, he could simply die clinging to the wall of that pit. A code is you. "Then I ain't nothing. My words never meant a thing." The shield isn't strong. Wood and steel. But Aidan has spent 4 years training and fighting with a shield. His arm flashes up as the first of the many Rat Centipede legs stabs down. It hits the shield with a resounding CRACK, but Aidan is already parrying the blow off to the side, carving a huge gash in the shield. It drags his arm down with it, shoulder hitting the ground, and the rest of the squirrel tumbling expertly with it. His tail comes up, body twisting with the blow to roll back out of reach of the Ratador X. You're still fighting me! "I didn't forget. It's an honor to fight you." He offers sincerely. No spark there. Just cold hard truth. The Kamen Rider shift. Eyes following the transformation. And promptly lands on his face as Petra trips him. His muzzle doesn't flatten like the human nose, making him hit his jaw hard as he collides with the ground. But he's not one to stay stationary, kicking one leg out to the side, pushing with his feet to roll away from the slash. The droplets slash through his cloth armor with ease, spraying blood out from his chest and stomach. You're *here* to be bullied, Proudpick! A grimace. True. He's been taking every punishment like he deserved it. To impress who? No. For himself. He cares about what Angela thinks, what Xion thinks. "I've never wanted anything so bad in my life." A roll to his feet, a pop up, then a turn to Xion. The earth beneath him suddenly cracks. One of Aidan's feet slips along the forming cracks, making it impossible for him to leap out of the way. The rest of the ground erupts, driving him upward, bending his body unnaturally. He only has seconds to launch a wind wall out next to him. A white wall of air forms, a flat plane. As each projectile flies through it towards Aidan, it slows, giving the squirrel enough time to twist and land on his feet. Three opponents. Everyone close to him. He lashes out the side of his arm towards Xion, refusing to step back. A wide arc, bringing the side of the buckler at her neck rather than her helmet, out of respect. The motion is smooth, but even without much upperbody strength, it's surprisingly quick. Wind rushes behind his arm, propelling the blow. He doesn't stop there. Using his tail as leverage, he keeps going, twisting himself until he brings his shield at Petra. Specifically at the eye he punched last time, trying to reblacken it properly. He keeps up the pressure, using his shield like a boxer might jab, thrusting it with harsh quick thrusts at both Xion and Petra, each empowered by his excess wind, trailing white wisps as he tries to give himself some space. What will you do? "Fight!"
Angela	Angela doesn't have a negative opinion of Gregory, honestly loyalty in spite of your employer is something she well understands so she has some sympathies for the plantbutler. Though it does hit a bit close to home, honestly. Angela had been focusing on the fight that she doesn't really think of Haru's presence until he speaks to her. She turns towards him and her eyes widen ever so slightly as she recognizes him as the guy on the radio. In truth, Angela also has a healthy amount of respect for Haru, even though she usually disagrees with what he has to say, because anyone who can get the Dame Commander to back down must have something to them. It's as simple as that. And sometimes, in spite of all that disagreement, the man has come across as...quite insightful. "Thank you." She says. "You don't need to ... 'dehenshin' if you do not wish to, but it is nice to put a ...face to the name. It was starting to feel a little strange having so many conversations with someone I hadn't properly even seen before, let alone ''met''." Binah is wholly interested in the fight and is being quiet. "Yuri," Cinder tells Haru. "Is a Kamen Rider now, I guess? She never really seemed the type but um--she has the belt and everything now. And she's in the Grand Prix too. I hope ... I hope she doesn't change too much." Lobotomy Corp is not oblivious to the idea that there's a stacked deck against new participants. ''I had to do away with it. It hurt people independently of me'' "...While I am not certain I share your philosophy, I do want to tell you that I sent the All Around Helper to Aidan specificall because it would not leave the house and as such would only hurt him. I admit at least in that particular case, I am grateful it only hurt him because I don't think it was as satisfying as I hoped it would be." Hench, she thinks, more revenge on those she needs the revenge on more. ''I'm going to slip the next protestor a twenty--'' ''Then you're going to fucking hate this'' "I always admire Petra's way with words." Angela says softly.
Lilian Rook	'I don't know much of Xion, except that she's fighting for the right reasons tonight. There's all kinds of Elites that don't really get the normal kind of press. But I like what I see so far.'     "She's beautiful, isn't she? Look at her." comes Lilian's reply. Distracted intensely, yet utterly sincere. She's somewhat surprised to even see Aidan show up with a replacement shield; she'd expected him to abandon the type entirely; and more than a little fixated on grappling with the concept breathing wind from his hands to then swallow into his lungs, but Xion takes her breath away.     It's like each declaration is a little shot of energy injected directly into her veins. 'Challenges placed in the road', 'on Lilian's behalf', 'always at mach speed', they drag her out of her seat back, bit by bit, until she is hanging sparkle-eyed on the seamless blending of greeble tactics.     'I'm going to slip the next protestor you talk to a twenty to get them to tell you to kill yourself, you stupid bitch'     Lilian snorts, then covers her mouth, doubles over, and coughs to the side. Her drink nearly sloshes onto the chair. "Oh god . . ." is muttered into the back of her hand, like she's about to wheeze. "Petra . . . P-Petra could perhaps use some work, but her heart is always in it, even when it's in the wrong place." Lilian says to Angela.     'The stronger fighter doesn't always win. That's unacceptable here, but the stakes have been changed.'     "That's certainly true. But even if your odds of miniscules odds of winning aren't zero, its' . . ." Lilian gesticulates with an open hand, struggling to drag forth a name for one of those murky, emotional ideas that she never speaks of. "I'd be scared. I'd try to get out of it. I'd use everything I could to tilt the odds in my favour. The whole fight, I'd be watching for a way out. The only things I'd say would be to lower their guard and misdirect them."     "It's unnatural, isn't it? I'm not crazy. Walking in with your head held high and filled with determined silence-- I'd be trying to keep my hands from trembling." Lilian exhales and slides deeper into her seat, letting the cooling leather sink away the heat generated by pulling that door open. "There's something wrong with him." she murmurs over her drink, breath fogging on the frosted glass. She kicks it back all at once, slaps it on the table, snaps her fingers for another, then straightens herself out again.     She's in a VIP spectator lounge watching a man calls her 'a broken person' getting thrashed by her girlbesties in dramatic arena combat, seated across from a close friend, between an adoring fan and a handsome guy she loves talking to, in brand new spring fit, sipping unlimited free refills between seeing people who mean a lot to her show off their best and shout moving, impassioned dialogue. Lilian is actually just thriving too hard to run low on energy for more than twenty seconds.
Lilian Rook	'at any rate, I wasn't going to allow Xion to die to somebody looking to elevate themselves from 'nothing' to 'something' in a single instant. That's all.'     "If I may share a secret, Haru." Lilian says, with a bit of a Tone. Low, soft, a little nervous. "Back then, even when I wanted to lock her in a washing machine, if it looked like Petra was about to lose to John, I had already resolved to cheat the duel on her behalf. That sort of thing is half the reason I follow along." Lilian taps her finger against her thigh. "'Mercy is the luxury of the strong'." she says, quoting herself. "That always meant making things softer on the people you care about, too."     'Not knowing when to expect me... that's my bad.'     Lilian smiles. It isn't even dry or funny or secretly-knowing. She just leans side to side for a second, closing her eyes and saying "As far as surprises go, I could hardly imagine a more pleasant one. Clearly this is a sign that I need to calibrate my dial for less arbitrary people."     She opens them again to watch Petra's attack routine. "By the way." she says, idle-toned. "What do you think of what Petra's done with the place?" A nonsense metaphorical question that clearly references the morphmetal anyways. "She wasn't nearly so enthused about any of the others."     'Yes. Fortunately nobody's gotten on my case about it, which has been... unexpected.'     "Nobody even remembers, most of the time." Lilian says to Kale. "That makes it worthwhile to separate what they think from what they say and what they intend to." she says, like it's professional advice, but also incidentally includes four years of Kale. "Ah, but I'll be taking that offer to stab you seriously~" She grins.     Lilian looks down into the arena again for Aidan's counterattack. It highlights and double underscores how much attention she pays to the fighting postures and motions and gravity of certain people, when she can be seen doing the opposite. She's tracking his face. Reading his lips through the glass, even though the speakers pick him up fine. "It's funny. In the first place, I'd assumed he'd decline me, and I'd be teaching him an object lesson about careless promises and escalatory words." Lilian hums thoughtfully. "Instead, he surprised me by doing something even more careless and escalating even beyond my wildest expectations."
Shinmyoumaru Sukuna	Shinmyoumaru looks at the partially destroyed Driver. "That's right! I'm Kamen Rider Ochiba, for it." It's apparently okay to tell the people here that kind of thing, given she's not the only one. "It's a kind of koi. ...I'm pretty sure nothing of mine does that," Shinmyoumaru says, with less accuracy than she'd hope for. But the Desire Driver doesn't, at least. "Are you going to fix it? I mean, so it doesn't." She can't think of any other reason he'd carry it around if he wasn't. 'It's like Gensokyo and Higan.' "How do you know about Higan?" she asks, successfully distracted. "I mean, I said Gensokyo, so that's not a secret, but I didn't think anyone else knew Higan was nearby. I tried fishing in the Sanzu once but you can't catch *anything* that's not a phantom, so I gave up." It's Buddhism, Shinmyoumaru. Buddhism is not a secret. "Anyway, we're in Gensokyo, but it's not really, um..." How does she put this? "We're not youkai, or demons, or anything, so it's not quite the same," is what she settles on. "We're kind of our own kingdom, even though we don't rule anything but the Castle right now." Shinmyoumaru takes a much longer drink and finishes the twelve ounce. She needs a refill. "I'd be planning tricks," she says, perhaps influenced by Lilian. "I don't know about not talking, but you'd have to do something if you weren't sure you could handle both of them at once! I've never fought a pair like that before..." They're working together, but they're not fighting the same way at all. "Something like, changing the arena. So they wouldn't have as much of an advantage. You can't just go in straight," she says, before floating over to get another drink.
Ivy Carrow	"This isn't Kamen Rider gear... before somebody asks."     Her eyes flickered away from the battle to Haru, for a moment. "Ivy Carrow, Gate-Captain of the Warprunners." She returned his greeting with one of her own, giving an incline of her head, while a clawed fist pressed against her chest. "I've never met a Kamen Rider in person, before! If I can ask, what just what makes yours not Kamen Rider Gear?"     "She's beautiful, isn't she? Look at her."     Ivy obediently leaned forward watching Xion carve across the arena. One leg bounced, mutely. Hands clasped. "Carving their names across worlds," Ivy murmured, her voice oddly soft. "Touching places no one else has ever touched. That they were never meant to touch. Being things they were never meant to be. I looked up to elites." Her mouth curved into a giddy, crooked line.     "Not all of them live up to it. Probably not even most." She made a quiet, happy sound. "But, I'm so happy some do."
Kale Hearthward	> "Ah, but I'll be taking that offer to stab you seriously~" "It was serious, but you don't have to grin about it," grumps Kale. > "How do you know about Higan?" "I'm a Paladin, of course I'm connected and informed," bluffs Kale. Conveniently the drink he ordered is ready, so he goes off to pick it up. <Boots-1: Hey I need the intel on Gensokyo> <East-4: Pulling it up. Please back away slowly from the shrine maiden and don't make eye contact. We'll get you through this.> <Boots-1: Sorry, what? There isn't a shrine maiden here.> <East-4: Oh that's a relief. Sending the files now.> A few minutes of speed-reading the file on his phone later, Kale returns to the VIP box with a fruity drink that contains an ice cube with a flashing LED, not looking particularly happy with what was delivered but not wanting to toss good alcohol either. "I mean," he says to Shinmyoumaru, picking the conversation back up. "Nevermind Higan, you're a princess from an upside-down flying castle, that's not something you run into every day, right? What's the inchling princess doing outside of Gensokyo, let alone Shining Needle Castle? You've got me curious." He also is scanning the crowd for shrine maidens now, just in case.
Hamada Haru	"... Hey. You're not a complete rookie at fighting or anything, right?" Dynamic Era asks Shinmyoumaru. "I've had to teach a couple of newbies how to breathe properly while fighting. They picked it up pretty fast, but they still needed the lesson." He didn't really like informing anybody of the condition of the competitors, but he was more comfortable doing that than leaving even one more person in need of Combat 101. His attention swings back to Angela, head tilting slightly to one side for just a moment. Dynamic Era raises his hands and lifts a latch on the helmet, removing it for a moment so that the young man with dark eyes and mid-length black hair is visible. Knowing that she has something akin to a photographic memory, he doesn't remain helmet off for long-- it lingers for a moment against his chest before he lifts it back up and replaces it with a hiss and a click. "There." "... As for your disposition towards my idea of power, it's fine. Your situation is so completely different. Kamen Rider is supposed to be a role model to children; conventional pragmatism simply doesn't fit the framework. It's not actually my true 'nature', exactly. But if I was going to dislike people for not matching my standards, I would hate everyone. //Is a Kamen Rider now, I guess? She never really seemed the type but um--she has the belt and everything now. And she's in the Grand Prix too. I hope ... I hope she doesn't change too much.// "I assume none of YOURS need basic combat tutorializing," he replies, towards both Cinder and Angela. Straightening up a little, his attention swivels back to Lilian. "There are a lot of people out there who don't imagine that they won't roll doubles for that point one percent chance that they win anyway. I suppose it could be called insanity. In this case... he gave away all of his stakes before the battle even began. It's like I said. He's trying to skip the ladder straight to the number two spot. There's a rationality to that." "And I wouldn't allow it, win or lose," he adds, coldly. For a moment he hesitates, then continues, "The first time I went on a mission with the Watch, I asked everyone else why they were there. What they were fighting for. What their stake was. None of them could answer. They acted like I was insane to be asking. There was an 'operation', and so they defaulted forward on the operation. So I left. An inordinate number of elites in the Multiverse are this sort of person. Their motive force is strictly liquid." //That always meant making things softer on the people you care about, too.// Dynamic Era taps the side of his helmet with an extended index finger, in what turns out to be a 'thinking' tic. "Operating within those parameters with you would be strange. I suppose I'd apply intangibility to the attackers instead of the rescue target like I normally would, since my extraction ability is worse than yours in this sort of context." //As far as surprises go, I could hardly imagine a more pleasant one.// He's notably quiet at that because he has no idea how to deal with it right now, dropping his raised hand to his side. Thankfully, the query Lilian shoots at him brings him back to the surface. He replies, "Not a fan of victimizing a bunch of people over an idiot, but I at least understood what she was trying to do, and that it would've been fine by now if he hadn't been trying to minimize his potential lost face. I kept thinking it might be a good idea for me to ruin it just to get people off of it, but I think Petra would just take it as a challenge. As things are, I'd say it's pretty alright. I can feel the back-and-forth motivation to do things with it." //Are you going to fix it? I mean, so it doesn't.// "No," he says, generating more questions than he answered.
Hamada Haru	//If I can ask, what just what makes yours not Kamen Rider Gear?// Dynamic Era makes a vaguely uncomfortable noise, but explains, "Easiest way to put it is that it's compatible with people who don't have the special factor that makes Kamen Rider gear work. I don't strictly need the power boost afforded by a true Kamen Rider transformation to function as an elite, so it's fine for me."
Angela	''P-Petra could perhaps use some work, but her heart is always in it, even when it's in the wrong place.'' "That's why I like her so much," Angela admits. "Well part of it. It's nice to have someone in your life who will be on your side even if you ... make erroneous judgements." What she wanted to say was 'even if you ... are evil' but she doesn't want to bother Lilian with that kind of talk right now. Holy Refulgence events have been happening and she fears Lilian might be getting enough of that kind of chatter. ''At any rate, I wasn't going to allow Xion to die--'' Angela supposes any fight has the possibility of death. Maybe she should be less confident of Xion's victory. Lilian speaking about mercy to those who favor i something she's going to try and keep in mind--normally she'd respect the honor of a duel feeling that to be proper but there's no real reason to be proper right? She'd rather Xion live dishonorably than die honorably. "She faired pretty well against me." Binah says as if that solidifies her own opinion of Xion's odds, but she has always had that kind of arrogance to her. ANgela would never duel two people at once if she could avoid it--and this seemed like an avoidable situation. Frankly, she's avoid duels at all. She's not fond of fighting in the first place. Ivy asks a good question. Angela pretends to not be listening but is curious about the answer She swishes around her champagne like she's nursing it. She hasn't drank a sip, obviously. "I am a newbie at fighting," Angela says. "EGO Gear can compensate for a great deal but I don't really consider myself a warrior or a Fixer or anything like that." Angela turns her head and looks towards Dynamic Era as he reveals his true face. He looks .... ...He looks normal. Not in a bad way, but in the way that is kind of relaxing to see. Angela nods once to him, "Thank you." She's starting to see why the Dame Commander listens to him even when he might be a bit harsh. ''Kamen Rider is supposed to be a role model to children'' "Really..." Angela raises an eyebrow. "You really are like Chevalier Love, albeit--she is becoming more a person than an idol. For good and ill. If it continues as it's going, she may need to find a way to lift herself back up and rediscover her truer self." ''If I was going to dislike people for not matching my standards, I would hate everyone.'' Angela laughs, and this time actually smiles. "...Well said. Something to keep in mind."
Petra Soroka	"I appreciate you making this real. It means I can do what I need to."     Petra exists to provide a service, to girls. This is one of those services. Petra quietly exhales, setting her breathing pace and mentality for the fight. "I'd hate to see him treat this like it doesn't matter. He doesn't get to trample over you and Lilian like that." >"You're *here* to be bullied, Proudpick!" "I've never wanted anything so bad in my life."     This may be the most severe blow Aidan has ever landed on Petra. She cringes backwards, boot clanging against the bottom stair to a staircase scaling up the side of one of the hollow buildings in a momentary lapse of spacial awareness. Eyes wide in horror, her harsh, self-assured tone cracks for a moment.     "You-- you can't just *say* that! *No*! Not to *me*!" Petra has her shield and sword raised to protect herself from Aidan's words, but they serve to protect her from his blows too. The disparity in experience with shields between them is awkwardly imbalanced; Aidan has four years of training, whereas Petra has the intuitive warrior's guidance of the Silver, but no physical training of her own. Reflex snaps her shield to block Aidan's, even the steel edge of the buckler scraping helplessly against the morphmetal, but diverting his momentum off the shield still leaves plenty of force to connect with her forearm, which is still plenty vulnerable to bruising.     Petra hops up a stair, then a second one, only matching Aidan's height once she's on the latter. The next time his shield comes out at her, she meets it midway with her shortsword, swinging to the side in a flat plane that the railings would make impossible if her morphmetal couldn't become selectively semifluid to flow around the balusters. Smacked to the side, lunging into his own attack, Aidan's shield slides between the balusters of the stair handrails, caught and tangled so that he's forced to lean and try to extract it. When his reflexive pullback is stalled by his shield being tangled up, Petra takes the opportunity to simply stomp between his shoulder blades as hard as she can.     "Creep. You can't *just* fight and get hurt and expect anything to get better from that. My opinion of you is never getting better no matter how much you fucking grit your teeth and *train* and *fight*. Neither is Lilian's, neither is Xion's, and at this point, I don't think there's anything you can do to change that."     Aidan's jaw smashes into the stair, and Petra brings her boot down again on his shield arm, stomping his elbow against the metal with her heel. Lingering there, pinning him between the stairs, railing, and her boot, she sounds thoughtful for just a moment. "I'd hate if you did, anyways. I'd hate you even if you did get better. It's easier that you don't."     Petra leaps over the side of the railing to fall back to the ground once Aidan is in the process of getting back up, covering her escape with a bombardment of missiles from the Ratador X. Morphmetal coils wrap around her bruised arm, flowing from her cuirass to the shield she holds, osmotic equilibrium ready to shift towards one or the other depending on where Aidan attacks her next.
Hamada Haru	//She faired pretty well against me.// Dynamic Era turns fully around to regard Binah appraisingly. He only looks for a moment-- turning back around to watch the fight. But he comments, "Xion is stronger than you. Xion is also stronger than me, but I was able to beat her once. As I said-- the stronger fighter doesn't always win. I don't doubt her ability to win at all, though." He nods in answer to Angela's thanks. With regards to her 'newbie in fighting' comment, he says, "Not sure how I'd teach you... whatever you fight through probably doesn't work like my body does, does it? I was training a couple of civilians. Not even elites before getting their belts. I'm not so sure about one of them, honestly... feels like the sort who jumps on a grenade at the first opportunity." //You really are like Chevalier Love, albeit--she is becoming more a person than an idol.// ". . . Yeah. I've been listening to her a lot. I wanted to answer her the other day, but the wrong people were listening. About why 'getting used to Meika being normalized' won't happen," he says, a little uncomfortably. That was a conversation he hadn't finished with Lilian, fully. It still had room to be compromised.
Shinmyoumaru Sukuna	'You're not a complete rookie at fighting or anything, right?' Shinmyoumaru, who has just returned with a drink in one hand, stands up. Balancing in her bowl is no effort, though it does bob a little bit, like a little round boat floating in midair. Her other hand is empty - And then abruptly it isn't; as she's holding an enormous sewing needle, flicked out of her sleeve and returned to its enlarged size all in the same motion. Enormous for a sewing needle, anyhow, and the razor point is aimed directly at Haru, though too far away to touch him even if she really leans forward. There's a certain ridiculousness to menacing someone with sewing gear, even giant sewing gear, but the way she holds it - hand in the eye like it was a strangely shaped grip and knuckle guard, with the option to grip further up with her other hand to hold it more like a spear if she didn't have another drink in it - makes it look serious. "I know how to fight!" Shinmyoumaru puts some heat in her voice. "This isn't my first time at all!" A beat, then Shinmyoumaru adds, more graciously: "It's good of you to show people who don't, though. But I'll be fine." Shinmyoumaru lowers the needle point, then - because making it shrink is more awkward, she didn't prepare that quite as extensively - sits and rests it across the length of her bowl, as if it was in her lap. She doesn't have her scabbard for it handy, since it didn't go with this outfit. Kale asks her a direct question. Shinmyoumaru's eyebrows go up. "Well, tomorrow I'm going to be beating you for the title of Breakfast Boy, or I guess it's Breakfast Girl if I win," she says, absolutely confident. "But if you mean other than that..." "...I've said before! Everybody overlooks the inchlings, and thinks we're helpless. Well, *I'm* not. At least people here listen to me!" Shinmyoumaru can't weigh over fifty or sixty pounds; proportioned like a slim human but barely four feet tall. The alcohol has already gone to her head, a little, and she tends to get loud and put more emotion in her voice. "Plus, I've got friends here, and things I want to do. I hadn't ever been out of the Castle at *all* for most of my life."
Xion	Close enough to touch and leaking a wavering heat mirage off her coat, a visible distortion of warm air or gasoline fumes or both, the black-coated and hooded Xion still carries the charge of two Kamen Rider's heart-felt powers in her combustion engine combo. When Petra lands, she's still still blade-high, and Aidan's springing shield-blow is swung two-handed down on, all shoulders and bionic-enhanced engine boosting with a crackle of power-flaring red thunder clashing Starlight-to-shieldside. Sliding back, as the part that loses in the exchange being 'the ground around them' by the shield-forward swing, Xion presses her growingingly heavy vroom!ing keysword against the shield and is shoved back on the blast of wind. "It'd be mean-spirited for this to count for nothing." Xion admits, honesty bleeding from her tone like an unfelt wind as the blow-carried gale breaks on a wedge of heavy force projected from the edge of her revving-idle Starlight. Caught in the glowing red fumes of Heaviness, the color breaks into a wing-like red nebula of charged dust to either side and behind Xion. Each blow in the combo that follows is drawn into, one step forward, to the side, back, force to force with a fencer's grace and flaring displays of her poised steps from captured and dispersed wind as the fight goes up the stairs. "When will you defeat the part of you that hurts people?" Xion asks, directly, eye to eye, as she turns aside a blow with her nearly-infinitely Heavy blade, immovable against a shield's swing and bracing against prevailing wind. "Even if you save everyone, for everyone's sake, what's *Aidan* about?! The Knight of Hearts, everyone's hero - those aren't free!" Aidan claims to want to be bullied. That it's what he wants. "You don't get to do it for yourself, call it justice and everyone's benefit, take on everyone's wills and dreams and care so little. Care! If you care about this, you have to be *able* to." Petra dives in and Xion dives back, preparing to follow up, but the timing seems off... And after several banging minutes of Boss Theme, the Ratador X has advanced to its second phase regardless of the interaction with it, returning to the outside of the arena's walls after a complicated game of Saws-And-Centipedes to fully bring its bulk across the arena, dispenses with *all* of the armor plating on the outer shells of the carapace-black segment-rats -- to deploy Very Deadly High Power Death Lasers For Killing Maiming Point Defense Self Defense Base Defense Turret Defense Base Turret Death Turbo-Lasers High-Power Beam 12 Colors from each of the dozens of segments, targeting the arena for ground-cooking and crater-leaving saturation fire as well as targeted tracer-blasts that carve slow swaths along Aidan's path! It's time to platform!! Around the beams and violence, Xion bounces anew like a zipping bolt, only staying visible in fractional images of her landing and leaping again, a black blur and a crackle of purple-red, lunging in at kinetically high speeds to boot and spin-slash him into danger! One hopes Aidan has learned to dodge roll. It will be mandatory for this segment.
Hamada Haru	"Don't do that against another competitor. You'll get penalized, even if you're just playing around," Dynamic Era says to Shinmyoumaru. He gestures vaguely in her direction, "The sewing needle is interesting, though." //I've said before! Everybody overlooks the inchlings, and thinks we're helpless.// This causes his head to twitch back towards Shinmyoumaru. "Dumb. Mass shifting is a dangerous trick."
Lilian Rook	'but it is nice to put a ...face to the name'     Lilian winks across the lounge at Angela's viewscreen when she thinks Haru isn't looking.     'Not all of them live up to it. Probably not even most. But, I'm so happy some do.'     "I don't know entirely how I feel about 'standing for a dream', or motivating people by what you represent rather than what you are." says Lilian. "I feel as if I've never had the luxury. To separate my image from my conditions, I mean." She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "But I know that Elite PR isn't a shitfest of non-stop liveleaks of scandals and slurs because every single person involved knows that they're all better off not opening that door. All of us, even fucking Proudpick, want to represent something to people, even if we don't measure up perfectly." Tch. "Just some more seriously than others."     'I've had to teach a couple of newbies how to breathe properly while fighting.'     "GOD--!!" Lilian begins the shape of an explative, then huffs and settles back down again. "I know, right?! Even the people with breathing powers!" This was her little personal crusade for a few days, months back.     'There are a lot of people out there who don't imagine that they won't roll doubles for that point one percent chance that they win anyway. I suppose it could be called insanity.'     "I might loathe to do so. That'd give them something in common with me." Lilian says. It borders on smouldering sulk. A quick drink and Aidan getting hurled into the air buffs it out to conversational. "I'd call it delusional, and separate it from insane. It comes from a place of unreality. They've never lost when it mattered, had their pride cut out under them for trying, or suffered badly enough to learn a healthy fear of repeating it."     'He's trying to skip the ladder straight to the number two spot. There's a rationality to that.'     "Mmh. As long as you feel good and heroic about hospital visits, and don't mind treating your body like this, there's 'nowhere to go but up'. Who wouldn't want to guess the lucky seven numbers and catch a superstar on their worst day, right?"     'They acted like I was insane to be asking'     Lilian silent-giggles into the rim of her glass at hearing it. "No wonder it feels like I've known you for so long." she says. "I wish I'd gotten to know you more, earlier." Her eyes are fixed on the ice she gently swirls inside. Her voice is a little hushed, now. "But that's the same as wishing everything was different and I was another person. So. . ." She turns her face away from the window, so it can't reflect. "I'm glad that I get to know you now, I suppose."
Lilian Rook	'Operating within those parameters with you would be strange.'     That thought seems to strike Lilian as terribly amusing. He can tell by the particular glow in her eyes. "Of course. I suppose you'd have to lean into making a dramatic statement, by nature of what you have available. Decisively telling the problem 'no, actually', in your way. You've always been good at that in particular. Firm vetoes and making up your mind."     Siiip. "Ah, but I'm delicate against quick and brutal rejections like those, so just remember to be kind to me, okay?" Lilian says. The teasing bullshit quotient is only a quarter alcohol. She's back to fidgeting with her hair.     'Not a fan of victimizing a bunch of people over an idiot, but I at least understood what she was trying to do, and that it would've been fine by now if he hadn't been trying to minimize his potential lost face.'     "Yes. Admittedly, it's been on my mind. As much as I loathe Proudpick, it's only convenient in one direction to point to the victims and say it's all his fault. There are, still, victims there, and I doubt any of them were knowingly placing their lives in his hands." Lilian says. She directs her energy into tracing a fingertip thoughtly around the rim of her glass, until it hums.     "I don't really understand Petra's relationship with Doctor Eggman. If he only did it himself and stayed there, I'd have gotten up and liberated the place two weeks ago. As it stands . . . I still wonder if I shouldn't just fix this myself. It'd be quickest and cleanest, that way."     "But then it always is. And I'm always fixing these things. I don't know why, but when I think too hard about it, the thought of volunteering to spend myself on cleaning up the consequences of Proudpick's actions, unpaid and unthanked and with no one learning a thing, just makes me feel so sick I can barely think about victims. I'm sort of horrible, aren't I?" She smothers anything further with a chagrinned smile and the rest of her second drink.     'Well part of it. It's nice to have someone in your life who will be on your side even if you ... make erroneous judgements.'     "It is." Lilian says, meaning the most she's meant just two words in a while. "Sometimes I wish she'd feel the same way about herself."     'She faired pretty well against me.'     "I've heard all about it." Lilian says, dangerously. "She was quite enthused. And she was able to tell me all sorts of saucy details about you, too, Binah."
Aidan Proudpick	That EGO gear, that morph metal. The thought of EGO gear has rolled in Aidan's brain several times, mulled back and forth. It would be a fix for his difference in strength. But no, Petra earned it through work and blood. As skilled as Aidan is with his shield, thrusting with it like a punch dagger, parrying blows with the shield, the morph metal makes up for it in sheer. The shield snatches underneath the railing, causing just a little panic in Aidan. That sort of panic you get when you feel something is trapped and that any amount of force will keep it trapped and you'll be lost forever. A stumble down into the stairs. A hand grabbing the stairs. Then a flex. Aidan's lean. Not weak. He focuses on keeping his mobility. How many years has it been now. Seven years? Seven years of hauling a gun? He pulls his arm back, twisting it so that the boot falls on the shield planted in the concrete, facing up. "You can't just fight and get hurt and expect anything to get better from that. "Yer right. I have to visit the Multiverse. Make connections. Let people help me. I DO listen to the Dame Commander. Sincerity. Being genuine." Aidan rolls backwards, stomping his weird animal feet on the ground to roll back up to standing. Air rushes past his lips in white wisps. "I'd hate if you did." It's cheap. It's petty. But it pulls back Aidan's grin onto his face. But it's wiped immediately off as Xion jumps in. Wind circles around Aidan, white trails following his every move. Every shift, every shield blow, each one trails with just a brief after image, a line of wind. What's Aidan about? In pure force, Aidan struggles under the weight of Starlight. If he still had Aegis, the unstoppable force, it might be a sight for the ages. 'It would have been glorious.' Instead, his knee bends. Aidan has to put more of his weight under him to try and brace against the weapon. "I'll never be a Knight! If I went back on that promise, what's the point? And I'll never been everyone's hero! But I will CARE! I will come to Angela with my heart open, to ask what see needs. I'll bring my heart open to Roy's army! And if they reject me, fine. I ain't got no pride anymore." Fire burns harder in his veins. "But those are just WORDS!" The shield begins to buckle, wood cracking, steel bending under the mighty weapon. He twists the weapon down and away before the shield cracks in half. "I need to prove them. Make them mean something." "One heart open to all," he whispers to himself, the phrase on his joke of a flag. On his joke of a crest. A step to press the advantage, leaping forward. KACHUNK. He turns to the Ratador, letting out a squeak of surprise. Immediately, Aidan takes to one of the buildings, grabbing onto the side of it with his hands and feet. He jumps back, not quite able to Spiderman, but using three limbs to hold on and one limb to hold back. He has to parry, each blow forced to one side, and each blow jarring his arm painfully. Each blow cracks the shield with a thunderous sound, steel bending. He pushes again, leaping up onto the top of a building. A wide swing, an arc of his arm, and the shield explodes as Aidan throws another blow away. The building below him turns red, windows filling with a red glare before exploding out, bringing the rest of the building with it. Fire roils up Aidan on every direction as he hits the ground hard, but still without harm. It's mostly the FIRE that brings him bodily harm. A push with both feet, popping back up. "Every time I shout them at you, it just makes it worse." Aidan pulls out his GUN, holding it with both hands, "I hate when I'm wrong. When I fail what I should do. And it just makes me fail more! So no more words, titles or vows."
Aidan Proudpick	Wind springs up behind AIdan, white wisps forming into barriers, chest high walls. With a hand, Aidan forms barriers above him, springing his own Laser Tag arena into place, leaping over the hurdles as he does. A careful aim with one eye shut, and Aidan starts to fire. He aims for Petra's morph metal rather than her flesh, trying to put her off guard without drawing blood. Each shot is measured and each trigger is pulled once, reaimed, and then pulled again. Then he slowly sweeps up, firing more quickly, trying to find a place on the Ratador that is glowing red, perhaps a large red orb.
Ivy Carrow	"I don't know entirely how I feel about 'standing for a dream', or motivating people by what you represent rather than what you are."     That earns a thoughtful frown from Ivy. She'd known, realistically, that elites weren't that kind of squeaky-clean, perfect ideal for a long time. No one was. But it was a rope she'd clung to, white-knuckled, against buffetting winds and the weariness of her own exhausted fingers. Do you not want me to look up to you? "Does it make you unhappy?."     "I always admired people who traveled in the multiverse. I think, you can never become more than your world, if your world is all you've ever seen." She looked to Proudpick again, derisively. "Even if some waste it trying to treat the whole universe like their backyard."     "I don't understand it. How they don't suffocate on it."     "I asked everyone else why they were there. What they were fighting for. What their stake was."     The Gate-Captain's gaze on Haru was considering. Weighing. "You know, that's funny." She said, her tone appreciative than amused. "That's actually the same question we ask all our warprunners, before their first expedition. You're putting your life on the line. Even if it's 'stupid,' as long as it isn't stupid to you? It's enough. But, a reason's important." She nodded to Cinder, pulling her into the conversation. "I think you might remember a similar talk, hm?"
Angela	''Xion is stronger than you.'' "We have very similar abilities, in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she defeated me properly. Maybe I'm even counting on it," Binah says. "In fact I'm hoping to get to know her a great deal." Haru admits that Angela might be tougher to teach than a human (that's more or less how she takes it, anyway). Angela nods and doesn't seem too troubled by it. She doesn't love fighting--she finds it a bit vulgar honestly--but she knows it matters a lot to people and she does want to respect it, particularly as it pertains to people like Petra, Lilian, and even Xion. "...Those seeking glory will find a path one way or another, even if only in their own head." But she pauses at the mention of Love and that particular question. "...Well, it may be a good time to finish that conversation. By the sound of it, there isn't much time left." Xion shouts at Aidan and Angela focuses on her again. It's Xion's duel as much as Petra's but she honestly can't tell who's winning, just that she expects Xion and Petra to win because she wants them to. Lilian winks at Angela. Angela gives Lilian a nod back, without worrying too much about if Haru is looking--but she does smile. Despite this being a fightcentric event with food she is enjoying herself. ''I can barely think about victims. I'm sort of horrible, aren't I?'' Angela thinks for a moment on this rather than answering immediately. She thinks similar things about herself and that's one of the reasons they've become close friends. Maybe she wants Lilian to be sort of horrible so it isn't so bad to be horrible, sort of. EGO Gear can certainly be seen as a quick fix for power gaps. If Angela knew what Aidan was thinking she'd point out that EGO Gear is best used by those who already know how to fight and that training to use them is still necessary because they are psychoments that can cause various troubles if you go into it unprepared. Petra is a bit of an exception--in a way that both helps and harms her use of the EGO Gear. She might never corrode, but the EGO Gear can't speak to her and tell her how to fight either. What makes up for it is simply that Petra isn't a bad fighter to begin with. She knows what she's doing, as far as Angela can tell. She startles a little when Aidan shouts to her. Heart open, he says. Why does he care? He should hate me. Angela thinks. with a bit of confusion. Maybe she should... "I sent a killer robot after him, why does he say that sort of thing..?" She asks of Lilian, bewildered. "I did not advertise my presnce here." ''She was able to tell me all sorts of saucy details about you too, Binah.'' Binah's eyes sloooowly slant back over to Lilian. Binah is fascinated by 'dangerously' and even 'saucy' and she asks, curious and smiling--"My my... I can't help but wonder what she had to say. How did she make me look, Dame Commander, there's no need to hold back on my account."
Shinmyoumaru Sukuna	'Don't do that against another competitor. You'll get penalized, even if you're just playing around. The sewing needle is interesting, though.' "I know, and I wouldn't! But most of them don't ask if I can fight." And, by extension, if Shinmyoumaru is weak, or can be pushed around; it may not be what Haru meant (almost certainly, it wasn't) but it's how she took it. "And the needle's traditional," she adds, without going into details. 'Dumb. Mass shifting is a dangerous trick.' Shinmyoumaru starts to say something, and decides better of it at the last moment. Changing her topic entirely: "Breathing? Really, they don't think about breathing? But if you don't breathe right, how do you do anything else?" Shinmyoumaru's powers are nonverbal and not based on her own breath, but any athlete knows that it's a vital part of what they do. And Shinmyoumaru doesn't look like an athlete, but if she fights with that needle, she must be. Shinmyoumaru is mostly keeping her eyes on the ... match? It's not a duel anymore, if it ever was. But she wasn't really watching the ratbots, since nobody was doing anything with them (she would have tried to push someone into them) and their sudden change from an obstacle around the edge to artillery fire is eyecatching; she looks away from Petra's shifting metal, Xion's extreme speed (which Shinmyoumaru now wants to try to duplicate) and Aidan's... well she's seen Aidan fight before, but only with his fancier shield, so this is new too. "Dodge better! Go through the gaps!" she calls, and it doesn't even sound like she's trying to mock Aidan; she's just enthusiastic today and doesn't think blocking is going to handle it. "It's not THAT narrow! I could do it with my whole bowl!"
Kale Hearthward	"Tomorrow? Huh? No, the competition is next week..." "... Right?" Kale's hand goes for his phone with the same energy of someone struggling to panic-draw their weapon, and brings up his calendar app. "..." "Ah! Yes. It's - it's tomorrow." Has a whole week passed without Kale realizing it? "I'm ready for it, obviously. You'd best be ready too. I'm not going to hold back."
Hamada Haru	Dynamic Era is, in fact, getting his attention pulled around enough that it's not hard to have that exchange with Angela without really trying. //I know, right?! Even the people with breathing powers!// "... Ah. Well, that's true too, but these are actual combat newbies and not just elites that got started wrong. One of them is this wishy-washy peace-to-all guy, and the other is an independent internet idol. I looked up her stuff after, it's pretty standard cutesy fare for an upper class Japanese woman trying to breach the walls of her family," he explains. //I might loathe to do so. That'd give them something in common with me.// The extra-broad, exaggerated shrug that Dynamic Era offers is practically theatrical. He puts his back to the viewing window and leans against it. "Learning when you need to swerve and when you need to play chicken is a skill that you have to pick up if you're going to be principled. Most elites aren't actually very principled, but they want to be like the oens who are. As a consequence, they're unyielding when it is meaningless and fail to give ground when it would actually help. An imitation of principled becomes the vice of extreme pride." "... The principled person would have picked a real fight with Petra a long time ago, and planned around the possibility of losing," he concludes, glancing over his shoulder. //Who wouldn't want to guess the lucky seven numbers and catch a superstar on their worst day, right?// Clicking his tongue, Era comments, "Would've been easier to catch Petra on a regular bad day, but that doesn't feel good even if it would accomplish the goals here." //I wish I'd gotten to know you more, earlier.// This time the shrug is faint, barely perceptible. "The situation with Xion at Twin Peaks made one of our earliest long-term intersections a really bad time for that. I was seething." //Ah, but I'm delicate against quick and brutal rejections like those, so just remember to be kind to me, okay?// Dynamic Era angles his head towards Lilian in what could be a nod, making another vaguely acknowledging noise. He's in the position of generally understanding what's going on without actually having the robustly-built tools that he normally does to react in a way that he's satisfied with. Accordingly, he reverts back to alert-and-responsive but plainly introspective. Which leads to... //I'm sort of horrible, aren't I?// "No," he says. //That's actually the same question we ask all our warprunners, before their first expedition. You're putting your life on the line. Even if it's 'stupid,' as long as it isn't stupid to you? It's enough. But, a reason's important.// "Yeah," he agrees, nodding faintly. //We have very similar abilities// Dynamic Era gives Binah another look, head shifting slightly. "I think there's about a twenty percent chance that I've mis-evaluated you. But Xion doesn't really need somebody defending her competence." //Well, it may be a good time to finish that conversation. By the sound of it, there isn't much time left.// Dynamic Era pushes away from the viewing area and nods, pacing past the seating and crossing his arms over his chest. This conversation space actually bothers him a little-- he's less certain about it. "I'll put the question to both of you, then, since I know that LobCorp also has interests in Meika's well-being. I am not, to be clear, suggesting that you have no interest in Kayoko. But would you agree--" He turns about, coming back towards the sitting area everyone is in and glancing at Lilian, "... That Kayoko has expressed intent to interfere in Meika becoming re-involved in 'greater Multiversal matters', and also that the Meika of the present has clearly expressed her desire not to lose that dimension of her life?"
Hamada Haru	//Shinmyoumaru starts to say something, and decides better of it at the last moment.// Dynamic Era halts, and nods towards Shinmyoumaru. "I'm not one of your opponents at all, but that was a good instinct you just had. Regarding your question, it's because breathing while battling has to be trained into you. It's not normal reflex."
Angela	''Xion doesn't really need somebody defending her competence.'' "Losing a fight to me is hardly a sign of incompetence and she didn't even lose." Binah says. "But you're right--after all, her strength speaks for itself." Someone like Binah refusing to confirm that she is stronger than Xion is a sign of itself. She doesn't seem inclined to admit that she's weaker--but she also doesn't think that a playfight is the ideal way to confirm someone's strength when she is far from her optimal strength--she imagines Xion was holding some of her own back as well. ... To say nothing of certain elements of Xion that matter more than any fight. Angela's smile brightens a little when Haru just says ''No'' like that. No wonder, she thinks, it explains a lot. Despite the seeming contradiction between what she just thought, Angela doesn't see it that way. People agreeing Lilian is horrible is completely divorced between any actual quality of it as far as she's concerned. It's gone in a moment as the topic returns to Meika. "The multiverse struggles to be kind to Meika." Angela says. "Frankly, as far as Lobotomy Corp goes, it is probably not wrong to keep her out of that situation. I cannot speak of The City itself, but Meltdowns require ... compromises and, more to the point, Carmen's goal is antithetical to Chevalier Vermilion's but--not exactly, in a way that I find dangerous." She leans back in her chair (her real chair) and adds, "Meika requires the multiverse even as it has brought harm to her but Kayoko is bound to see it as a thing that has ruined her sister's life. And in a way, she is not even entirel ywrong, is she? I, certainly, am in no position to tell either of them what to do. I tried and failed like many others, as loathe as I am to admit it." She realizes this isn't exactly the answer Haru asked for even if she answered it while saying everything else she was saying--but for the sake of clarity, Angela elects to say, "So yes, I agree." Nonon is very invested in th Breakfast Boy championship. Angela thinks this is the dumbest shit she's heard in her life and, as such, does not comment. Cinder, who also thinks it's incredibly dumb, nevertheless says, "Hell yeah, you best be ready to defend your title, Kale...!" because sometimes dumb is fun.
Shinmyoumaru Sukuna	"Oh, I'm prepared!" Shinmyoumaru puffs herself up slightly. "So you'd better be ready. If you forget what day it is and don't show up I'll... well I guess I won't win by default, because I'll still be up against Nonon, but I'd feel bad taking it away from you by default." Hopefully *Nonon* remembers. Shinmyoumaru glances at Angela - nope. Cinder, maybe, could pass a message. But eventually Shinmyoumaru decides that if she forgot it's her own problem and just decides not to. 'Regarding your question, it's because breathing while battling has to be trained into you. It's not normal reflex.' Shinmyoumaru huffs. "I know. It's just that they could at least think about it even if they don't really know how to do it right. I did a lot of self-training and I figured it out." Breathing is important! And it's not like she's *entirely* self-taught. Shinmyoumaru takes another long drink and goes back to watching the battle for a bit.
Lilian Rook	'Xion is stronger than you. Xion is also stronger than me, but I was able to beat her once. As I said-- the stronger fighter doesn't always win. I don't doubt her ability to win at all, though.'     "I largely decline to rank Elites by specific strength for a particular reason." Lilian says, now just tapping her fingertips to the side of the glass while visually rivted on Ratador X and Xion's combination. "Strength is the process. It's relatively easy to sort various amateurs, journeymen, self-taughts, and town champions. They naturally have a sharp upper limit just above whichever foundation they haven't mastered yet."     "But once you can reasonably claim the level of 'an expert', the further you go from there, the murkier it gets. Strength becomes unpredictable beyond the bell curve because complex factors start having greater pull. Things like 'information disparities', 'type matchups', 'adaptive tactics', and 'mental states' gain enormous traction. I could confidently estimate that Kale is stronger than Ishirou is stronger than Sundew is stronger than Newman, but I wouldn't freely opine on where Xion sits in relation to me."     Lilian tilts her head, blinks twice, and mades the auditory equivalent of a shrug. "Which is to say, you're right, Haru, but I think you have a lower estimation of yourself and a higher estimation of others than I necessarily would."     'I wanted to answer her the other day, but the wrong people were listening. About why 'getting used to Meika being normalized' won't happen'     Lilian squares her shoulders. Her grip tenses, but not the rest of her. The stress in her voice is 'managed', at least. "I'm going to meet her tomorrow." she says. "Let's talk. After."     'When will you defeat the part of you that hurts people?'     Lilian smiles ruefully at the monitor. Hurts just a little bit. But it fills her heart, too.     'Dumb. Mass shifting is a dangerous trick.'     "You'd be astonished how much people have dismissed obviously dangerous tricks where I've seen it." Lilian says, offhandedly. "Or utterly unsurprised, maybe?"     'Does it make you unhappy?'     Lilian takes a moment to think about that. Longer than being just for effect. Shorter than being caught too off-guard to erase it. "No. But it makes me much happier to inspire others with both."     A second passes, and Lilian laughs uneasily. "Even if a PR agent has to gloss over a very bad mood every once in a blue moon." She is definitely thinking about her breakdown after the Queen into Nihil where she told Sarracenia to kill herself.     'I think, you can never become more than your world, if your world is all you've ever seen.'     "Speaking in absolute terms, that isn't infallibly true, but . . ."     'I don't understand it. How they don't suffocate on it.'     "It's something I agree with you on anyways. People aren't built to conceive of a world that's nothing like the one that exists, and they aren't meant to resist being changed by encountering one."     'I sent a killer robot after him, why does he say that sort of thing..?'     "God help me if I ever find out. People in this sector bend over and kiss your boots if you fuck them up in a messy way and give themselves aneurysms if you fuck them up in a clean way." Lilian says, all but a gasp of exasperation.     'My my... I can't help but wonder what she had to say. How did she make me look, Dame Commander, there's no need to hold back on my account.'     Lilian surreptitiously licks her lips, and doesn't look over. "Interesting." she says. "I might be able to make something out of you." She does not elaborate.
Kale Hearthward	Kale gets another drink. > Most elites aren't actually very principled, but they want to be like the ones who are. "Yeah, you need to watch out for those," says Kale in passing as he heads back to his seat, without a hint of self-awareness. > "That Kayoko has expressed intent to interfere..." The question wasn't posed to him, but Kale nods in response anyway. "It's not something Meika wants to give up. Nor should she. And Kayoko's crossed the line where nobody can say she's acting in Meika's self interest anymore." > "Hell yeah, you best be ready to defend your title, Kale...!" Kale smirks at Cinder. "You'd best be ready to console Nonon, because I'm going to send her home crying!" Wait, no, he's not allowed to make girls cry anymore. The prospect of suddenly winning an all-expenses paid Moon Vacation ever hover overhead like a lunar sword of damocles. "Not literally crying, I mean, but she'll still lose!"
Lilian Rook	'Breathing? Really, they don't think about breathing? But if you don't breathe right, how do you do anything else?'     Lilian's wandering eyes catch on Shinmyoumaru more solidly than they have in the past. She watches her just slightly too long to be comfortable, then wanders back. "By throwing power at it." she says. "Take Proudpick, even. Petra, if you'd like to be more fair. The shield, the Ekanamsha, breath magic, Silvering, whatever. You can fake it for quite a while on serendipitous gifts alone."     'I looked up her stuff after, it's pretty standard cutesy fare for an upper class Japanese woman trying to breach the walls of her family'     "Please be kind to her too. As much as the seriousness of the work allows." Lilian says. "Ah, but not too brooding yet sensitive, or she might get the wrong idea." She wasn't working up to that as a punchline; it was a second, complete thought.     'An imitation of principled becomes the vice of extreme pride.'     She doesn't have to say anything to him at all to convey that those words stuck somewhere deep. The silence is probably more meaningful, actually. Knowing her glass is empty, she tips it just for an ice cube.     'The situation with Xion at Twin Peaks made one of our earliest long-term intersections a really bad time for that. I was seething.'     "So was I. Though not at you." Lilian says. A little motion of her jaw, and the ice cube shatters between her teeth. Not a proper crunch. An idle motion of breaking it with the softest force. "It's why wishing for it is stupid. It's tantamount to wishing I was a person who could have gotten to know you. There's nothing left to learn from."     'No'     Lilian stares into the window instead of the arena. Her eyelashes flutter, and she looks back to Haru by pure reflex. Holding her stare, her mouth opens, softly utters nothing, and then the words formed on her lips are discarded by a short, sharp, embarrased syllable of laughter.     "I'm sorry. That was a stupid question to ask you." she says, glancing away. "I sort of had a feeling you'd be the person who'd know best, and would be the most inclined to say no." Her face turns the slightest shade of red, as she hesitantly reacquires eye contact. "So I thought, if you said yes instead, I'd be able to believe it. That'd be enough to give me the strength to fix this."     Lilian puffs away a loose strand of hair with a long-suffered exhale. "Well, I've dug my bed. I suppose I'll just believe you."
Xion	In the stands above, Shinmyoumaru calls for Aidan to dodge creatively - made all the more complex by Xion's high speed flanking and harassing, getting the worst kind of aggressive automotive crash POV that herds him closer to danger, but doesn't quite make the connection into violence. Not quite! But direly close. The Ratador X has none of that gravity force-softening, instead relying on Great Value! 50 Count XXL Battery For Robot Industrial Robot Battery For Charging Rechargeable Robot Battery For Business Purposes power cores that are not magic or kind at all, and wrapped in a kind of lacquering-blackening magic that draws out a particularly directed grudge against Aidan Proudpick. The lasers are very directed, but, he narrowly avoids vaporization through quick manevuering and encouraged dodging! Swinging into Aidan only to be blocked, Xion looks stonily at the determination to be 'One heart open to all'. The Heaviness hums in Starlight, a forge-red hot metal bar sizzling like tyres to pavement, but they have a brief moment for this. Betweem heartbeats, Xion has a private mutter just for Aidan. Unasked for - but they're in a duel, a fight, and so blows come unasked for by course. "Find out what your one heart wants first." A flash of sparks, Starlight to simple shield, and a muscular turn about coatcloth as their lock breaks. The building crumbles and explodes around them while it's saturated with fire. Xion can't finish her words in the building, up close and personal, and tumbles through the air herself back to the hot arena ground, dancing among the drifting ashes of a chewed up ground still cracked and hot from laserfire. The Ratador X shudders and begins to purge spent laser emitters and cooked lenses, shedding slag into the building debris cast field and creating little islands of safety and less-than-volcanic terrain. Xion can be followed through the air in the VIP Box by the glow of her borrowed red, jumping from boot-sizzling heat back to safety, perched on shattered masonry and siding twisted upon itself. "I can talk, then. I started my life with a blade in my hand, and no Heart. So I could be that thing." Xion announces, perched feet-close, arms wide. "One being to save everyone. But I couldn't keep living the empty way I did, I kept picking things up, until I realized something *beat* in me. And I knew I could never be 'Everyone's Hero' again." Xion points her sword at the gusting-Aidan, hanging back, declarative. He buys time, and time comes with words. "But I could be my own hero. And I could be some certain other people's. And that's enough for me. I'm not Kamen Rider - but I've borrowed their powers often enough to know the lesson." "The road to travel keeps going." Xion declares, bringing sword in. "It's not a sprint, but a cross-country journey." A crackle of purple-red poufs off her feet as she jumps down, spinning to bringing her sword down axe-ing two handed down at the crown of the wind barrier, voice rising to shouting. "And to keep going the distance, you have to understand yourself! Why you do it, and who you're a Hero, or a Knight or a Kamen Rider about." Hanging, crackling, sparking, Xion doesn't complete the drop through the barrier, disappearing in a loud vrr--!--wazn't of anticlimactic static that falls like shadow-snow to be swept away by magic wind.
Xion	Her voice echoes, like her blow had pierced his defensive veil. "It's real to you, even if you can't say it out loud right now. It's real to me, that I'm fighting under the eye of the one I promised to defend, too." From underneath, the safe-debris and cracked-ground both give way to yawning void-black, and from a perpendicular angle Xion re-emerges in a stinger-thrusting lunge, hooking at Aidan with the heavy star on an immediate backswing with the key-tooth to drive him into her shoulder, forehead, or failing that, rising knee. "Petra *and* I arranged all of this to knock some sense into you! I already know what I want from you when I win." Xion insists. "I want you to *actually* cut the crap and stick to being a decent guy even when it's hard - to everyone! I don't want you to feel worse, I want you to get better!"
Shinmyoumaru Sukuna	'By throwing power at it.' Shinmyoumaru sits in a weird position. On one hand, she definitely throws the power of the Miracle Mallet at problems; that's what it's for, a magical wishing tool, and never mind the cost, so far paid out of sight and without thinking about it too hard. On the other hand, she trained hard, too. Her danmaku, her use of the needle - she doesn't need the Miracle Mallet for that (except, perhaps, to get big enough to easily fight a human being with the needle - that doesn't apply to danmaku). She momentarily feels a sense of awkwardness, intensified by Lilian looking at her just a little too long and hard. It's not shame or embarrassment, but... something less defined, which she doesn't like. Shinmyoumaru looks back, her own gaze - her eyes somewhere nebulously between red-brown and purple-red - meeting Lilian's for the last portion of her regard. "Uh huh," is all she says about that. "I guess that would do it!"
Petra Soroka	It doesn't even come to Petra's mind to be upset at all about the Ratador X (phase two) blowing holes in her arena. This is what it's for! She's not going to clutch pearls over having a silly little building get blown up while it's in the middle of being used for exactly what it's best for. At most, it'll be an inconvenience that she asks Heyalexa to handle anyways.     Petra leaps between buildings, running up a slanted rooftop while a laser from the Ratador X melts it behind her. It's enriching enough to just scramble around platforms dodging explosions that she doesn't even bother taking a shortcut across the superheated ground with her morphmetal to shield her, instead fully respecting the content despite her speed being inferior to both Aidan and Xion. A missile headed in her direction explodes midair when it threatens to get too close, intercepted by a bullet of morphmetal flicked off the tip of her sword. Overheated by the fires now raging in the arena, Petra wipes the back of her hand across her eye to clear away accumulating sweat, smearing her poor eyeliner in a moment of thoughtlessness. "Make connections. Let people help me."     Petra hisses air through her teeth. "People are *always* trying to, dumbass. You're a fucking black hole of people's efforts. Always 'I have to do better', and '*yer* right', and 'I'll prove myself', but never ever fucking actually doing anything. You have to commit to *something* that you actually do *yourself*!"     Then, echoing Xion while swinging her arms down and petulantly stomping to clang on the roof, "You have to *care*!!"     Aidan fires a series of shots at her, but his half-heartedness with attempting to hurt her makes trying to futile; Petra's never been susceptible to anyone who's failing to take her seriously. Aiming for the morphmetal means he hits the morphmetal, but as prepared as Petra is with being able to see him carefully aiming and rebalancing her Silver to protect herself, the bullets hardly even draw sparks when hitting it. Flowing metamaterial tenses and softens when Petra needs it to, letting the bullet sink into the soft surface of her shield and become slowed to a stop by the grip of the metal around it before piercing through to her. Spent bullets are expunged from the side of the shield, scorched lead looking positively grimy beside the Silver.     Petra's confidence in it is high enough that she doesn't hesitate in closing the distance even while he fires on her. Petra jumps, catching her boot on a slanted railing to kick off over a careening missile, shields herself from the explosion beneath her with a flaring bubble of morphmetal, then uses that makeshift platform to make a final jump to behind Aidan, where his chest-high wall leaves a critical gap in the area above his chest. Rather than shoving him this time, for once, she instead swings her sword at the gap, too far away to actually connect, but the morphmetal blade deforms into a tendril that wraps around Aidan's neck, yanking him backwards.     With his breath briefly cut off by the choking tendril connected to her hand, Petra meets Aidan in hand-to-hand range with her shield having melted into a heavy gauntlet coating her other hand, punching him in the lower back. She slips to the side as he keels backwards, two-stepping around him to swing a second heavy metal punch to his jaw.     "You have to fucking convince *other* people that you care. Like, you *know* what I care about. I care about *Lilian*!" Petra remember something that Lilian told to her once, standing over Aidan, and winds up to kick him in the jaw as hard as she can. "So when *I* shout words, they actually mean something, because they're the words I *chose* to mean something. You can't fucking *opt out* of words and commitments, idiot. Words *are* care!"
Petra Soroka	"I don't want you to feel worse, I want you to get better!"     "I'd, honestly, love it if you died and I never saw you again." Petra slides over to Xion's side now that they're copresent rather than alternating positions again. She can't help being honest, but she's faintly apologetic for undercutting Xion's rhetoric.     "I don't believe people like you can be better. I don't believe in second chances at all. If you were ever worth one, then you'd get better whether you were fucking given it or not. So if it wouldn't make Xion unhappy, then I'd just gut you right here and never think about you again."     Petra hangs back by Xion for a second longer, subconsciously retrieving her morphmetal into the paired sword and shield while sounding earnestly vulnerable when probing at Aidan. "... Does it hurt, actually? Knowing that I'd actually have kept my word, so losing here means losing the chance to save anyone? Do you actually love them enough for that to hurt, or are you just pretending to?"
Lilian Rook	'But would you agree-- ... That Kayoko has expressed intent to interfere in Meika becoming re-involved in 'greater Multiversal matters', and also that the Meika of the present has clearly expressed her desire not to lose that dimension of her life?     "Unconditionally." Lilian doesn't even wait. Her way of mincing words is always more of a roundabout stab than dodging the question, but she's so straightforward right now that it's disarming. "Shockingly, I've actually sat them down separately-- especially Meika, in an environment I could guarantee she was safe in-- about that particular issue."     Lilian finally puts aside her glass, sliding it across the endtable surface for a ratbot to come and pick up. "Kayoko intends fully to return to her studies and ordinary life. Meika would rather die. The former sees her career as a sort of 'divine duty' appointed to her by the big Adult in the sky, and is desperate only to please everyone with power and keep her sister out of trouble. She's already beginning to learn what it means to not have her by her side. Meanwhile, Meika had fully habituated to the lifestyle; no, the core identity of a magical girl, for years before Kayoko was ever involved."     Retrieving her smart device to check something, Lilian speaks over the busy tapping on her fingers. "Her desire to keep that magic is deviant in the eyes of both her sister and the Church. What it means to her is something she is pathologically opposed to sharing. Her communication skills are atrocious; she persistently takes all the blame and awards all the credit when it comes to her sister, she can't finish a sentence she isn't certain will be approved, she doesn't dare speak her mind in gatherings of more than three, she won't speak a word that matters to her parents or her counsellor, and spends all her time trying to be as invisible as possible."     "I'd struggle to understand, were it not for meeting Strawberry Princess years ago." Lilian says. "I'm constantly struggling to help her, but our compatibility just isn't good enough. She's the type who wilts away quietly, I'm the type who explosively retaliates. But Kayoko is close enough to her to be able to sense it anyways, and she has far, far more power over Meika than either of them will admit."     Lilian shrugs, as if it's nothing to say, "Why else would I sanitize myself so much around them? She and everyone around her believes that I'm some sort of righteous warrior of decency who can set a good example, exactly as I want them to."     "I'd rather Kayoko not act so frightened and disingenuous with me, but the fact that she hangs on my every word is what I need to keep her out of Meika's business. The fact that the elder authorities in her life both don't care about her and see me as the shining example amidst the degenerate wash of 'Elites' is what's allowing me to pull off this borderline corporate adoption."
Hamada Haru	Dynamic Era says nothing more to Binah, because they've more or less wound through this particular conversation tree entirely. He nods in acknowledgment of the conclusion however, so it's clear that he isn't just ignoring her. //The multiverse struggles to be kind to Meika.// "The multiverse is full of people warped by pride born of imitation of principle. An individual like Meika is too complicated for them to cope with. Also... her misery is projected outwards so regularly that even for those who are trying, it isn't easy, either. So it can hardly be expected of those who can't give ground when it would be beneficial," he explains, matter-of-factly. "They expect the abused teenager to adjust." //And in a way, she is not even entirely wrong, is she?// "Information inadequate for me to say confidently. Based on what I have in front of me, it's not the conclusion I would arrive at," he says. //I, certainly, am in no position to tell either of them what to do. I tried and failed like many others, as loathe as I am to admit it.// His gaze swings pointedly onto Angela, but he doesn't say anything. He disagrees-- even with a mask in the way, the weight of his disagreement is enormous. //Which is to say, you're right, Haru, but I think you have a lower estimation of yourself and a higher estimation of others than I necessarily would.// Dynamic Era unfolds his arms and spreads them out in an illustrative way. "That's not a mis-estimation exactly, but a difficulty adjustment. Since I run without an organization, my relative danger experienced is higher. I don't assume back-up will be there even when it probably will be, so it's easier to assume I'm a significant order less effective than I might be in practice. It's safer to do better than I think I will than to assume parity or superiority when it's not true. Not that I would necessarily shrink from a greater problem than I think I can realistically handle." //"I'm going to meet her tomorrow." she says. "Let's talk. After."// He answers with an acknowledging rumble. //You'd be astonished how much people have dismissed obviously dangerous tricks where I've seen it.// "... Probably not," he says. The grimace isn't visible, but it's palpable anyway. //Yeah, you need to watch out for those// "No. Predictable." //"Please be kind to her too. As much as the seriousness of the work allows." Lilian says. "Ah, but not too brooding yet sensitive, or she might get the wrong idea."// ". . . Honestly, her wish is so depressing that I'm probably going to be keeping an eye on her in general," Era admits. "World peace guy, too... but mostly because I think he'll die for a stupid reason otherwise." //It's why wishing for it is stupid. It's tantamount to wishing I was a person who could have gotten to know you. There's nothing left to learn from.// Making a soft noise, he replies, "It's important to want things. And..." //So I thought, if you said yes instead, I'd be able to believe it. That'd be enough to give me the strength to fix this.// "... the reason that I'm involved with the DGP is that they're promising a fair reward for saving the world. It's only for the highest performer, but still. My point is that asking everything from you for nothing is unreasonable. It's not cruel to save your energy," he concludes.
Hamada Haru	As it turns out, Lilian has a lot to say about Meika and Kayoko. Dynamic Era inclines his head a little, crosses his arms, and listens-- the posture he's adopted is more usual for him in less tense situations. His eyes are probably closed. "Unconditionally, huh... well, I was hoping that I was at least a little off-based from a lack of experience with those two, but it helps me path my suggestion forward. I'm not going to speak aloud what my observations and suggestions are here. I don't trust everyone present enough not to expect that a recording of this conversation might not get out. I'll radio you two--" He unfolds his arms and gestures between Angela and Lilian with a loose back-and-forth sweep of his hand, "About one of the dangers I'm perceiving, and potentially about my suggested solution. Lilian, if you want operational security for the suggested solution limited to yourself, I would understand. That isn't an expression of distrust about Angela at all, this issue is just a mine field."
Aidan Proudpick	"Find out what your One heart wants first." It is a blow. A staggering one. There's fire in his veins. Something there. But it won't last. It won't last beyond the next thing. And the next thing. His world built up around bullies, around proving yourself, around tearing other people down, stands on shaky ground. The one thing he has always wanted, to inspire others, he's never DONE. Except, maybe, for one person. But even then, Sarracenia has brought him up just as many times. Aidan watches Xion, firing only at the Centipede, so he can listen. And feel that emptiness again. But... no, it's not quite an emptiness. It's a wound. When a wound goes sour, they have to cut everything that's rotten away, peel back the flesh and give it a chance to grow again. Kale, Xion, helping to drive a scalpel in and cut away rotten flesh, even if for their different reasons. "You have to understand yourself!" Both hands rise up. He's forcing more and more of his diminishing wind into the barrier, using it as a shield. Even the infinitely heavy blade is slowed down the wind, moving as if through mud. White wisps flare around it, blasting in all directions as it struggles to keep up with the mighty Key blade. "I don't know," he says, without the determination of before. "I don't know who I am anymore." His fingers push up, spread, until suddenly Xion disappears. One ear flicks as he picks up the sound of crackling ground. Instinct alone pushes him back in a kicking jump, putting some distance between him and the explosion. The key drives forward, catching him on the cloth, shifting him around until the rising knee comes up against his stomach. He's not in good shape. Blood and air come out of his mouth in a gasp. "I want to you to get better!" Tears, honest tears flow from his face. He doesn't stop fighting, using the butt of his gun to knock the key blade away, ripping through his cloth armor. "Thank you, Xion." That turns him around to Petra. It's hard words to hear. And even harder to accept she's trying to get through to him. That thought alone drives a cold shard into his heart. Having seen Petra care more than anyone about things, knowing she does have a heart under there. And she might be using it on him. Even a single percent of it. A wind wall comes out, lashing through the sword, slowing it down. Until the tip, beyond the windwall, suddenly explodes outward and grabs Aidan by the neck. Fingers grope up quickly, trying to find purchase on the whip. But enough awareness to twist. To catch the blow on his side instead of his back. It pushes him down. He makes a visible effort to not put his knee on the ground, trying to keep it. He turns up to Petra. "Yer a good person, Petra. When you want to be. Better than me when I want to be." As the whip comes off, he pushes his knee to the ground, kneeling. But he doesn't take his gaze away from Petra, but there are still tears in his eyes. He didn't even come close. He didn't really put that much of a mark on either of them. And tomorrow, he won't even be able to move. "Yea. I do." He brings his head down, then announces loudly, "I yield to you, Xion and Petra."
Angela	Angela isn't sure she believes it from AIdan either, that he actually wants to 'get better' or whatever. Frankly it's the sort of scenario she would suggest a time reset for but you never really know what's in someone's head. ... ... Well, Angela at least cannot read minds. ''Kale smirks at Cinder'' "Well I doubt she'd come to ''me'' for that, she'd probably just rail Shajo until she feels better about it. DIsciplinary really needs to get them their own room." Cinder says frankly but only because she's too distracted to really think about what she' saying. Binah doubts her nodding along to Lilian's words would be appreciated--she hasn't forgotten that Lilian loathes her--but it was also a failure of her part to consider how readily the tides of battle might shift even when you have every advantage that lead to her current predicament. Say what you will, but thousands upon thousands of loops in a dark basement tends to solidify a particular lesson. ''Lilian surreptitiously licks her lips, and doesn't look over.'' "Gosh," Binah says, with faux sensibilities. Still, there's a thousand ways to take that and Lilian doesn't seem inclined to say which one she mans, so she leaves it for now. Twin Peaks again. Angela has been to Twin Peaks once (sort of) as far as she can go anywhere. It seemed quaint but full of problems if a Kamen Rider from the future is willing to pay it a visit instead of any number of other locations. Lilian's response to Haru giving a blunt 'No' is interesting of itself. It feels strange at this point to get into her thoughts on the matter, unfortunately, and it's...sweet. She doesn't want to ruin it. "I've only met STrawberry Princess briefly. But I think in that moment we undestood one thing about each other at least, however small." She grimaces at the idea of corporate adoption because, of course, she knows better than anyone except maybe Tiphereth just how badly that can go but this is borderline, she tells herself. Clearly completely different. ''her misery is projected outwards'' "Your analysis seems trong but-- ... Mm," She cuts herself off because she sees that look from him. Even with a mask in the way, it's pretty clear that he disagrees. And he doesn't speak, which means Angela is forced to broach the subject personally. "You disagree. It is thanks to me that Meika is no longer in school--is that an improvement?" She quirks her head. "...If I have faulty reasoning in this I would like to hear it." She frowns. "Her wish?" But then Haru has a little more to say about ... suggested solutions. "...If you need me to shut off or step away, there is no time for patience. I will cut my connection and tell Cinder and Binah to leave if you wish for privacy. There is no time for you to wait for a convenient time."
Hamada Haru	//You disagree. It is thanks to me that Meika is no longer in school--is that an improvement?// "My data set is incomplete, but if you made me answer right now, my answer would still be: Probably," Dynamic Era says.
Xion	Xion has a deep comfort in paired ballet, having spent her whole self's life as the second player in a hundred hundred's hundred lives. Her hands would be calloused if soft touches and fitting together were so frictive, her heart would be worn raw-nerved if arching and reaching and pivoting about in matched set caused her any discomfort. Instead, she is perfect, down to the artful swaying of her coat which goes unsinged and untouched. Yin-and-Yang together, Xion and Petra both wish on Aidan, and they both wish the same-but-different, for the same goal. They want the problem to go away, for Lilian Rook. Stakes, meanings, matchings, missions, all come to simplicity: Something had sucked bad enough to fully unify purpose to those that would not simply ask. Would Aidan show honor at the tip of a blade? It was the question Xion had asked. He thanks her, while she swings her weapon. He tries to appreciate Petra's actions, as well as her words. Without getting her shoulder, elbow, or knee involved, Aidan is knelt. Though in her right hand is a medal of iron//carapace-black, of mach racer red, of bionic salvator purple, held between each knuckle, ready to slot or slide or summon forth, Aidan Proudpick is knelt. He yields as Xion promised would occur and all the Heaviness, combustion crackle, and even the violently directed attention of Ratador X lift - creak - ease off. Xion drags in a breath. "Okay." And out, ragged, the held-taut weights in her slowly dialing down and levering away with the workings of her respiry. "Do it. Be the better person, today. Be Quicknest's greatest advocate. Be the savior of who you can reach." She falls to muttering, the heat of the battle's winning finally letting her step back and look away - finally - to turn her shoulders and see the VIP box, where she raises her starry-capped blade, and her right hand lifts Petra's arm in hers, and they share a moment of tinnitus-ringing arenal devastation as the smoke and dust shifts and falls and hovers on channels of dimming heat. "Great job, Petra." Xion consolingly urges, still breathy, still coming down from the flood of feelings she had been holding away from herself, and without completely releasing Petra's hand-- --implodes into scattering of pale 'light' and motes of darkness, like a portal opened and shut around her in camera-shutter frames. When she reappears, it is within the VIP booth, blade still static-crackling to directly approach Lilian, already tugging off her pristine and untouched black coat. Underneath she wears a short-sleeved black t-shirt, arms bare until black gloves, and black shorts with black leggings for mobility, belted and buckled with a matching silver-clasped black belt. A bit of complex juggling later, Xion presents the coat folded over her arm to Lilian on her right arm, while holding Starlight in a reverse grip at her side, to bow and present out the spoil of the fight: Her absolutely untouched coat. "May this cloth show my own honor, worn to armor yours: pristine and without a hole. I have achieved flawless victory, with Petra's help. I trust-" Xion's bright blue eyes wink, and she once more wears a little smile across her cheek. "-that will be sufficent in the matter of this exhibition?"
Petra Soroka	"Yer a good person, Petra."     Petra frowns at Aidan on the ground, intensifying into a pout the longer it takes for him to get up. She clenches her fist around the pure metal grip of her sword, squeezing through it and breaking surface tension to cause the entire weapon to dissolve and splash onto the roof.     "I'm not. I'm a *useful* person. Because I'm not so fucking wishy-washy that it matters when I 'want to be', and it doesn't matter whatever the fuck I've got inside my heart. I can just be good *for* people even though I'm not good at all." Petra idly wonders if Meika's in the audience; she didn't check for anyone but Lilian and the two most important girls from L-Corp. "So I'm probably just going to hell no matter what, but who really cares."     Petra gives Aidan a weird look. "And don't call me a good person. I am literally gloating about how you failed to save any of your people from being my robot slaves-- from being robots. What the fuck. I'm a supervillain. I hate you. You're not in a position where it should be possible to see me as good at all." "Great job, Petra."     Petra's shield drains away along the rivulet streams of metal flowing over her arm, automatically freeing her hand when Xion reaches for it. As huffily angry as she is at Aidan, and still simmering with adrenaline from the fight, this completely distracts her, and she takes Xion's hand with a confusedly cheerful smile. She doesn't immediately catch on to why this is happening, but she's happy enough to just squeeze Xion's hand a bit.     "Yeah! It's really a ton of fun to fight with you, Xion, I've kind of always wanted-- oh--!" Petra's hand is dragged up into the air and she suddenly understands, blushing faintly when she turns to the audience beside Xion. Then Xion disappears, and Petra's hand hangs in the air for a second longer before awkwardly lowering down to her side. "Eheh."
Petra Soroka	Her eyes turn back to Aidan, still kneeling, and the shift in her demeanor without Xion is palpable. She shakes out her leg, working out the post-fight aches, while slowly making her way over to him.     "You know, Proudpick. Yielding is only something you can do if it's a duel. You turned that down. Kind of insulted the entire concept of them, really. There wasn't much of an agreement on stakes, here; this was just an ass-beating that you deserved by being an intolerable piece of shit. If you'd said 'no', it would've happened anyways."     If Aidan tries to stand up, Petra plants a hand on his shoulder and shoves him back down, still chattering with a lightly threatening air. "If you'd walked in here and been like, suddenly saying about how much you don't want to fight, how you'd already learned your lesson, whatever, we'd have beat the shit out of you even worse. The *point* is that you *hurt* for it. And I'm not *really* a fan of you deciding how much that is."     What happens next is predictable. Unalloyed with her morphmetal, Petra's kick to his chest isn't going to cave his ribs in, but in his weakened state it's enough to put him flat on the ground. She grinds her heel into his hand, putting all her weight on it to feel his bones creaking while leaning over him. She lowers her voice, hair hanging down to shield her bowed head from the audience as she glares at him with utter, murderous contempt.     "I don't think you should get out of this alive. I've been fucking *itching* to turn you into a fucking roadkill-ass redneck sausage for *months*, Proudpick. You're the scum of the multiverse and if you never walked out of here again everyone's lives would be better off for it." She leans in further, crushing his hand, and flicks out her morphmetal into a crude knife already in her hand.     "But if you can manage one fucking thing, then make it be that you stop fucking tormenting the girls I love. I don't believe you're capable of getting better, but be shitty at other people. I could kill you right now. Make it so I don't have to make up for it later."     Petra straightens up, releases her tension with a sigh, and for good measure, kicks Aidan in the side of the head hard enough that he sees stars. Then she looks up at the VIP box, sees Xion already inside with Lilian, and makes a quiet whine in her throat. "Shit, fuck, I'll be right there too,"     She has to take the long way, though, clambering over the scorched arena walls and then up rows of bleachers.
Aidan Proudpick	All of the air is whisping out of Aidan. White flows out of his nostrils. The hand is enough to push him down in the weakened state. But he just looks at Petra, not wavering. He'll take his punishment with dignity. And no tears. He doesn't like his chin, he just nods. The kick puts him to the ground, knocking the last of the wind out of him, causing it fully to wash away and leave him flat. He sucks in a hard breath as the foot comes down on his hand, biting down hard to keep himself from howling out in pain. He turns to look at her. Not in contempt. Maybe some pain. But to acknowledge that he is looking her in the eye and listening to what she says. Any response would be worthless. The look is over when Aidan takes the boot directly to the head, that one makes him let out a yelp of pain before he's fully out. He will never forget what side of the formula he's on in that statement. He doesn't really take back what he said. She doesn't want to be nice to him. But the message comes across clear. Gregory is likely the one to help him, as much as a pirahna plant can get an unconscious squirrel back. It's definitely through a warpgate, Aidan's not going to drag his bloody ass down to a base.
Lilian Rook	'That's not a mis-estimation exactly, but a difficulty adjustment. Since I run without an organization, my relative danger experienced is higher. I don't assume back-up will be there even when it probably will be, so it's easier to assume I'm a significant order less effective than I might be in practice.'     Lilian pauses for a moment's thought. The answer is straightforward and understandable. The fact it was Haru who said it isn't shocking, but strikes her as important somehow. "I see. So it has to do with who can depend on others to finish the job for them." she says; not quite what she means. "I wonder if my backup has given too many people the wrong impression about their efficacy, then." she say.     "Truthfully, if I examined all of my past behaviour, I doubt I'd have standing to argue with you. Rating myself back up again is a constant choice. It's an exercise in subtracting the negative space where the world was supposed to give me something, to evaluate things in fair terms." She looks back up from her device just in time to see the combination attack begin. She shifts towards the forward edge of her seat. "So now, here I am, feeling silly when the backup actually arrives. Like 'what do I even do with this'?"     'It's not cruel to save your energy'     "Thank you. Sincerely. I'll remember that, next time."     'Lilian, if you want operational security for the suggested solution limited to yourself, I would understand. That isn't an expression of distrust about Angela at all, this issue is just a mine field.'     That one, Lilian thinks about for real. She thinks about it long enough that it's no longer polite for Angela to see it. She can interpret it as a sign of closeness, if she wants, but it's factual Lilian has her fist curled under her chin and the gears working in her head as she watches Aidan's killing instinct fall short of Petra's.     "I'd like Angela in the loop, if she wants to be. If certain information had been kept from Angela once before, I wouldn't be here." Lilian says.
Lilian Rook	Petra kicking Aidan under the jaw while he's down extracts a sharp little breath from her. Her hand hovers over her mouth in a way that seamlessly blends into her exictement at Xion's lecture; the exact speech, in her own terms, that Lilian had been crackling with the anticipation to see ever since she arranved this.     Every one of Xion's words make her eyes sparkle with a chaotic landslide of feelings, from appreciating Xion from the bottom of her heart for being here, to glowing at this being something she had actually understood, correctly, and anticipated from another, to a flicker of guilt at making her bring it out before Aidan. Petra makes her blush. The nasty little kick makes her press her knees together.     'May this cloth show my own honor, worn to armor yours: pristine and without a hole. I have achieved flawless victory, with Petra's help. I trust that will be sufficent in the matter of this exhibition?'     Lilian is several glasses of fresh minty spring mixed drinks that actually have bourbon as a base. She isn't prepared for this. Her breath stops in her throat. Her fingers hover delicately by her lips, as if to carefully guard against a single word wrong for the moment. She stares at Xion with about a hundred different theatrical possibilities stampeding through her brain. And she settles for jumping up from her chair, squeezing Xion in her arms, lifting her feet from the floor and smooshing her face into the side of her neck.     "Flawless. Picture perfect. Just like it always should have been." Lilian half-whispers, and the convenience of the hold is that it disguises the little quaver in her breath. "You're incredible, Xion. I knew it, and I keep saying it, and you didn't have to do this, but-- God I love you."
Angela	''Probably,'' Angela opens her mouth for a moment then clamps it shut. Haru sometimes speaks in what Angela refers to as 'Work Speech' when she does it. She seems to dwell on this for a spell before admitting, softly, "...Meika, Kayoko, and I haven't gotten along almost immediately. I am a villain in their eyes and I cannot even say I am wrong. Meika wants to remember, I want to forget and even if I prefer ''she'd'' remember, I have managed to contribute very little to the goal of helping that come to pass. There are elements at play I do not feel as comfortable approaching due to inexperience--if you hadn't said that being removed from school is likely to be better for Meika, I would not have even considered that possibility. I would be more comfortable following the lead of those who are more understanding of the cultural and sociological idiosyncracies." Xion starts making her way back up (fast type) and Binah says, to her, "Well done, Xion. I do believe I learned a thing or two." Angela, not a fighter, almost reconsiders her stance about battle for a moment because there's something satisfying in that weary smile but ultimately--it doesn't feel like her. Lilian thinks about something for real. And she thinks about it for a while. Angela turns her head to look away. She knows, intellectually, that this long period of thought is likely not as uncomfortably long as it feels but if she watches her, her heart would ache like nobody's business however unfairly it might be. Set it aside. Don't think about it like that, it's how you are designed--it has nothing to do with her. When Lilian confirms she wants ANgela in the loop, she's ... surprised. She'd understand a no, was expecting a no by that point and she's not sure what to say. Thankfully Petra kicks Aidan in the face and distracts from the matter. It gives Angela time to come to a settlement with herself. Take it as a way to put forward more effort, not less. But her statement of wanting to follow the lead of more experienced teenager-handlers is probably something she intends to keep to regardless. She knows what Lilian is talking about. And she nods once, "...I am glad you are here." She adds. It feels almost trite to say it like that, but she can't help how she feels and she can't help sometimes only having something basic and true to say instead of something complicated and beautiful. ''God I love you'' Angela isn't as jealous at hearing that as she imagined she'd be. "I ... appreciate you doing this as well, Xion." Must be a character flaw to work on, Angela decides.
Hamada Haru	He doesn't really take back what he said. She doesn't want to be nice to him. But the message comes across clear. Gregory is likely the one to help him, as much as a pirahna plant can get an unconscious squirrel back. It's definitely through a warpgate, Aidan's not going to drag his bloody ass down to a base. But it isn't. A spray of mist emanates out from the ground and Aidan is dragged abruptly beneath the earth, ghostly and immaterial, and finds himself sitting in a sidecar. A second iteration of Dynamic Era is sitting on the motorcycle it's attached to, which roars audibly even to the arena that it has passed out of, and then barrels on out through the earth, mist and steam pouring out around it until it emerges many miles away back to the surface. A duplicate of Dynamic Era says, "Listen to me." "I'm not here to defend anyone's honor; that job is already done. I'm not here to rescue you, either. I'm here to talk to you about the things that have been going on surrounding this whole incident," he explains, over the roar of the motorcycle. "There's a cold compress in the cooler under the seat. Might have to contort a bit to get it." "Every time I turn around somebody is picking some petty verbal disagreement-based fight with Lilian or somebody in orbit of her and escalating it into infinity," Dynamic Era explains, leaning to one side and guiding the motorcycle into a branch in the road -- though it rolls about a foot above it -- that's heading towards some not-too-distant city. "The stakes of these interactions were never that high. They weren't and aren't that high for Sarracenia, either." "If she steps in and solves the problem, as she could, she validates the infinite escalation beginning from verbal disputes as a thing that can occur and harm her without limit completely fear of free of reprisal." Taking a deep breath, Dynamic Era Beta continues, "I don't know what you're missing. I'd say I don't care, but it's my job -- to a greater or lesser extent -- to care. But this 'everyone saw Heathers and decides they're Veronica Sawyer' as soon as some woman is too assertive or coarse for their tastes song and dance was old before I got here. Think more about who you are and who you want to be. Ask why you're going on any given adventure, or picking a fight. Only crazy people risk their lives arbitrarily. Don't tell me 'I guess I'm crazy people', you de-escalated this as far as you could before you set foot in the arena. You're not that guy, even if that kind of guy is your model. Figure out what matters to you about the model, and why. Extrapolate from the why. Was your father a knight? Did a knight save you? Did you read it in a book? Why did that resonate...? Identify the bullet points. Find the values."                          "Stop drifting in ambiguity."                           The motorcycle pulls up to a hospital ER entrance, stops, and then turns intangible out from under Aidan-- though he's so low to the ground that he more-or-less just finds himself comically seated on the ground abruptly rather than roughly dropped as it pulls away.
Hamada Haru	The real Dynamic Era, and thus the real Hamada Haru, doesn't leave the VIP box while his duplicate lectures Aidan and takes him to a hospital. //I wonder if my backup has given too many people the wrong impression about their efficacy, then.// "Sometimes," he agrees. //So now, here I am, feeling silly when the backup actually arrives. Like 'what do I even do with this'?// "You save energy. In your case, you'll have to modulate it to others saving energy in excess, or at least that's the impression I've been given from our discussions," he answers. To Lilian's thanks, he merely nods... and then he nods again when Lilian confirms that Angela should be in the loop. With that exchange done, Dynamic Era moves around towards Xion. He makes an odd, flick-y gesture, the folded wings on his back partway disassembling so that the nanomachines can assemble something. Once she's through being smooshed, he hands Xion a... crunchy chocolate ice cream bar, complete with wrapper. It's paper, though, not plastic. "Afraid I don't have a nice perfect score trophy. Have this, though," he says, before walking past her to the aisle that leads outwards. But he does pause, to address Angela, "Meika and Kayoko barely get along with anyone. Like I said, their misery is projected outwards. Or Meika's is, anyway. My judgment of Kayoko is shakier. But what those two think of as a 'villain' is twisted from the outset. Listen to the terminology they use and the sources of it for three seconds and you can figure out that it's all designed to keep people from asking questions. Temptations. TEMPTATIONS. Not trials, or tribulations. Temptations. You shouldn't look too closely at temptations, should you? Shouldn't compare yourself to them. Shouldn't give them more thought than is necessary to dismiss them." "Their environment is tightly controlled, Meika was withdrawn from the Paladins by order of their Church, everything they say about their environment is cult-like, the 'good girl' is the one who destroys her sister's communications tools. If their school was not a cult indoctrination center, it would be the first thing I've heard of from their world that doesn't sound riddled with cult abuses. So, by default, removing her from any part of that system is a net positive," he concludes. "Bye," he adds, taking his transteam gun from his hip and spraying into himself as he walks into and through the wall.
Aidan Proudpick	A sudden squeak and yelp as he finds himself in a moving sidecar. "Breeze that's amazing," he whispers as they just start moving. Stretching is bad for Aidan. He doesn't ask Dynamic Era to do it. He just cracks the compress and puts it against his head, barely awake. He is just watching. Defenses come up from him, but they are things he needs to look inside himself to see if they are true. He opens his mouth to say 'I guess I'm crazy people' and then shuts it again. There's nothing he can say. But look at Dynamic Era, just nodding slowly, before looking out at the ER. He doesn't even want to say he'll try, because Petra's right. So many people have wasted their time on him. Every time he says something, it's just worse. He just has to prove it. Release all that... not even hatred, pride he's been holding onto. All he can think of is, turning towards him again. "Thanks, Kamen Rider." Aidan staggers up to his feet and starts into the ER, who are rather startled to find a squirrel walking in. 'Do we need to call a vet?'