Scene #9040: SEE SEVEN STATES #5 - King of the Mountain (Real)

Owner	Pose
Madeleine Cadrasteia	PREVIOUSLY The Elites arrived at Rock City and began to involve themselves in the diplomatic situation. The captain of the gnomish Royal Guard has asked Lilian to dissuade the gnomes protesting against the King. Rita learned that the gnomes are relying on imported food while they set up their farms and mines on the mountain. Shinmyoumaru used her royal credentials to earn audience with the King of the Mountain. Petra overcame her gnomophobia to learn more about the gnomes' big dreams and precarious situation. Dysnomia suggested that any or all of the multiversal factions represented by the Elites could help the gnomes establish sovereignty. And Calvin made Darius Green of the State Department an offer that might just be too good to refuse... NOW Calvin: "Sound good?" Mr Green's body language is hard to read through the anxiety about armed gnomes, but his eyes shine with possibility when Calvin mentions the leg up this could be for the diplomat's own career. "I'll have to talk to my people about this. Maybe even the President. Give me a few minutes?" Calvin's COMP beeps with an incoming message, from the Paladins. They've got his sitrep at the ready: It's been a slow few years for national politics. Outside of the economy this might be the biggest story of the election cycle; opposition campaigns are focused on touting their own recent accomplishments against the President's maintenance of the status quo. Darius Green was passed over for vice president last election; his State Department position is a consolation prize from the governing party. This world's Rock City has been a thorn in Georgia Governor Deborah Murtaugh's side for years. The Rock City Attractions corporation is actually based in Sweden for tax purposes, and the governor has tried and failed to change the law to get a slice of their tourist revenue. She must be hoping she can cut a better deal with the gnomes, because her stance is that the company should just give up the mountaintop entirely for token compensation from the feds. Dysnomia: "Between all of us, perhaps we could give your kingdom the legitimacy it needs to stand on its own." The head guard steps closer, and the remaining two guards huddle forward with him like penguins. "Supplies, connections... that sounds like a pretty sweet deal. I'm not the guy who makes that decision, though. You," he points to one of his underlings, "Take this lady to see the king!" Dysnomia is escorted along the same variously-scenic route as Shinmyoumaru was, past unusual rock formations and equally unusual sculptures. She and her escort arrive at the flag court (currently without its flags) in time to see the inchling Princess exchanging her greetings with the king, who sees Dysnomia coming from across the plaza and beams. "More guests! How delightful! Unless they are prisoners! But if they ARE prisoners, it is good that we caught them! Excellent work, my guards! Now, what brings you to my mountain?"
Calvin Nash	I'll have to talk to my people about this. Maybe even the President. Give me a few minutes? "Yes sir," says Calvin with a self-assured nod. The delay is well timed, affording him a chance to check his COMP. It's fantastic news--exactly the kind of climate he'd hoped to exploit. Outwardly, his stony, businesslike facade remains, even if on the inside he's quietly stoked. Reading further, into local affairs, as Darius makes his calls... Even better. Being a Demon Marshal means negotiating with demons is a high priority skill. Who would have known there's some transfer there? (He lacks crucial information.) .exit .load msg Still, better not to count chickens before they're hatched. Rather than risk being overheard, Calvin messages the others through text. hey still early but lookin good with the state department fella coldread the situation like yall wouldnt believe this here might be the biggest story in the last 4 years hes talkin to the president now governors prolly gonna love the idea 2 how yall makin out?
Petra Soroka	"Next week? By next week hopefully you folks have the outsider government off our backs, so we can start making this place into a proper home." Petra sits cross-legged in front of the royal guard gnomes, doing her very best to give them diplomatic dignity in the conversation. There are, however, feelings inherent to a massive size difference, that can't be surmounted by merely lowering your head to close to their level, and maintaining the cognitive dissonance of playing royal dolls with the tiny, comedic guys. Namely, that doing so feels like a favor, and to have their presence and success be so bluntly taken for granted by a snotty little midget who refuses to make working with them easy irritates the fuck out of Petra. Her lips twitch into the glimmer of a sneer for just a moment before it fades away. "Okay, well. It kind of just seems like you imprinted on the mountain like baby birds, and decided that the whole thing was yours rather than just the park itself. You've only been here a week, dude. Is finding a new home after a week seriously that much of an infringement on your fucking gnomish rights?" "A couple gnomes got hurt bad, that's why we had to start arming ourselves, why we gotta have a King to keep things organized." Petra considers the nature of gnome wars. Gnome political struggles. The potential for civil gnome society without a strong hand to guide it. The mandate of gnome heaven. Given centuries of gnome cultural evolution, would these garden gnomes develop a society and philosophy that Petra would find respectable? Or is this shallow, gimmicky parody of hollowed-out essentialized human concepts the best they can ever amount to? The abyss of future history yawns out in front of Petra, as her eyes go glassy and she sways in front of the gnome guard. A feeble construct of empathy in her mind, effortfully stacked up like a house of cards, crumbles in on itself with excessive interrogation. There will be no great garden gnome authors, whose literature gets taught in schools across the country in a hundred years. The standards of personhood that Petra holds dear can't be strained far enough to include these gnomes; it's a hopeless thing to attempt. When Petra's gaze finally refocuses on the gnome in front of her-- does he even have a name? Do any of them? Where would their names even come from?-- it's as if some inner spark has been snuffed out. Her expression is completely flat, desolately cold, eyes smoothly tracking the movement of the guard as he totters around Dysnomia as if he'd been reduced to a featureless object. Laboriously, Petra shuffles around to get her knees beneath her, clambering up to her feet. She sways, shoulders drooped, looking exhausted all of a sudden. "I'm not going to talk to the gnome king. I'm going to do something else. Something other than that." Petra shuffles over besides Lilian and Calvin, checking her phone for Calvin's messages like she's grasping for a lifeline. "Oh thank god. Is the president just going to say it's fine, or whatever? I swear to god I wouldn't be able to make it through a fucking pompously serious video call between the president of the United States and a week-old garden gnome."
Shinmyoumaru Sukuna	Let's be honest: Shinmyoumaru didn't really expect to get this far. Or, rather, she expected it to happen, but she didn't think very much about what the next steps were. She's doing this entirely on what feels right. So, first things first: polite introductions. Despite being a princess, Shinmyoumaru has never actually been taught how to do a meeting between two equal nobles because - well, who would the inchlings talk to in that manner? But she figures she's the guest here, so putting herself as the slightly lower-status one works well enough. She dips into a polite if not extremely deep bow. "Greetings, King of the Gnomes of Rock City!" she says, bright and pleasant. "My name is Shinmyoumaru Sukuna, princess of the inchlings of the Shining Needle Castle. I'm not a prisoner! I've come to talk to you about, um..." What's a good way of putting it that doesn't sound like she's trying to take it away from him? "...what's going on over here," is what she settles on. "I want to help, because I think the inchlings and the gnomes can be friends," Shinmyoumaru says. "The smaller people need to stick together!" The word she uses in Japanese is 'kobito', which is also what she uses for 'inchling'; context matters. "But there's this whole standoff thing going on. What's wrong? I know it's your mountain, because you were born here." Even if that was, apparently, something like last week. "But there are big people who live here too, and they've been here a long time themselves! So..." "...you have to get along." She counts on her fingers. "I think you can either be overlooked, and have them take advantage of you... get fought by them, and lose, because there's a lot more of them... or actually talk to them and figure something out! And I know which one I'd pick. I don't mean you should give them your mountain," Shinmyoumaru clarifies. "It's yours too. But... it's a place where people come to see things, so what if they came to see you and things you made, too?" "Plus," she adds, "not all the other gnomes want to stay, anyway. But if you're working together here they'll be safer wherever they go!" Shinmyoumaru beams as if she'd said something helpful. She only notices Dysnomia about then, too. "She's with me," she adds. "Also not a prisoner! Hopefully."
Lilian Rook	Lilian checks her comm on the move between conversations, frowning at the use of text messaging as a form of on-the-job discretion, but bearing with swiping on single word lines that Calvin wrote, and the slight inconvenience of tapping out something back. »I suppose anything is plausible in American politics. »No matter how transparently stupid. »Outside of being bored senseless with these junior league ambitions, I have nothing to report. Dazzled by the rank pettiness and spectacular low-aim of the American Political System®, Lilian takes a moment with a pocket mirror just to pad out the feeling of doing work, then glides over to the gift shop scabs. Traitors? Insurgents? She's not sure what term to use here. She totally forgot protesters, because she doesn't like them that much. "Apologies, but I'm here to strongly suggest that you redirect your energies from this at your earliest possible convenience." says Lilian. Taking a deep breath, she attempts to force a little extra patience into her delivery. "Which is to say, your voices have been heard and your concerns taken into account; the monarchy has already agreed to allow us to negotiate on its behalf with the American government over the matter of your independence, and it would be by far for the best if you put your numbers behind them. Together, you can still bargain with a stronger collective stance, and achieve a better guarantee. Without you, the King may of course simply decide that allowing you to cross the eventual American border is an irrelevant concession to demand."
Lilian Rook	'Oh thank god. Is the president just going to say it's fine, or whatever?' "Shouldn't you know better than I?" Lilian replies offhandedly. "You're by far more familiar with the character and modus operandi of American presidents than I." Her attention slowly turns. "Hang on. How do you make it through all of the ridiculous things you get up to on your own time? You're making it sound as if you'd die of petty embarrassment, but you've certainly been involved with far more absurd little spectacles."
Rita Ma	Seeing a gnome chew on a shiny rock discombobulates Rita for a moment. Can I eat that? crosses her mind, hauntingly dimwittedly, and before she can think twice she holds out her hand. "Um, can I try, actually?" Their food situation isn't great, though, so only a small one. "You've been buying food with the money in the gift shop, right? And that won't last very long... farming is a good idea, but it'll take longer to grow things than to run out of money. There's a river going through here, isn't there? I could teach you to fish! And the people here know a lot about making lures and stuff. I wonder if..." Just as Rita's maybe-too-practical musings start getting carried away, her phone beeps. She puts up one index finger, opens it, brightens up, and starts tap-typing in the makeshift groupchat. rm22@throwaway: I'm not making out! "Sorry, I'll be just a second," she says to her new gnome friend. rm22@throwaway: They're probably going to run out of money for food before they can start growing crops. They can eat shiny rocks? rm22@throwaway: I think I can solve that though rm22@throwaway: Ms. Madeleine, can you get them in touch with the people who were running the fly fishing lure contest? A little pause. Then: rm22@throwaway: Also they can't have the whole mountain. A few thousand people live here.
Dysnomia	"Take this lady to see the king!" "Rea--" Her thoughts staggered, abruptly, hit by a haymaker. Don't spurn opportunity. She smiled, thin. "But of course. Lead the way." Dysnomia takes the scenic route, crossing her arms, staring stoically at the tacky attractions of rock city. Oh, stars. What now. How do you ACTUALLY negotiate with an incursion? Oh sure, she'd seen it done before--or at least, that was what they said it was. But always, it was a knife to pry open a weak spot, to undermine labor, to divide political bases into uselessness, to strategically appease pliable leadership pry them from the cause. This was a machine she'd only ever had to dismantle, and now she had to make it run, under high pressure, and the only tool she had experience with was a sledgehammer. Dysnomia's system BEEPed, and, thankful for the distraction, she swiped at the air, calling up a chat window. > CREDENTIALS RANDOMIZED > CONNECTION ESTABLISHED > CHANNEL OPEN "Shiny rocks?" > I copy. > Worst case, > there are a few asteroids in the kupier belt > that I can harvest for precious metals. > I assume those count as 'shiny rocks.' > Can buy them some time. > I can aslo redirect some growbeds our > friends > have had me developing. > Depending on how this meeting with the king goes. She should ask Rita how to figure this out. She knew how to salvage small states into sustainability. She was an actual member of the Watch who knew what she was doing! One of about two or three that Dysnomia knew. No. Rita adored Rook. At some point, Rita would start to believe all the venom the Dame Commander pointed at Dysnomia, unless she proved herself. At least, that was what Dysnomia told herself, as she sent a final message: > The princess and I have negotiations with the King covered. "More guests! How delightful!" "Charmed, I'm sure." Starved for any sense of competence and with something fresh to prove, Dysnomia scraped at the surface of the king's mind for feedback as she spoke. "The Princess is right in some respects. But, in order to engage with the American government on a fair footing, you will need to acquire a firm foundation." "You're a smart gnome. By now, I'm sure you've seen that their first instinct isn't fair play." A conspiratorial tone, she gestured with her words at something, implied the king was wise for seeing it. "That's why you've shut yourself away, after all. But I'm afraid it's not sustainable--these kinds of governments will do anything, if it lets them save face." "So, they have a motive to undercut you. The key is not to lock them out, but to subvert that motive, and make the act of undercutting you too costly to pursue. The first is the value of negotiation with them," Dysnomia nodded to the Princess. "As she says. For the second, you may need to rely on outside help. We have agents of the Paladins outside, members of the Concord invested in your well-being, and I and my friend can offer some logistic support--things like food, infrastructure--that is..." She leaned forward. "...If you're willing to work with us."
Petra Soroka	"You're making it sound as if you'd die of petty embarrassment, but you've certainly been involved with far more absurd little spectacles." Being addressed by Lilian brings Petra's mental HP bar out of the red, and color practically seems to return to her cheeks when she lifts her face up to look at her. "Um... more absurd than garden gnome diplomacy? The Infinity Train was really silly, but the denizens in there didn't really force me to engage with them like they're people... not even Qetra, really." "And I guess it was embarrassing to get kidnapped by a train and forced into a car where I had to tell Romeo to fuck off and keep it in his pants in iambic pentameter, and doing all its dumb puzzles and stuff, but that was at least adversarial. And when stuff like that happens in the Everhood, I'm usually mad about it too." Trying to run through all of her weird antics in her memory, Petra tilts her head and looks away, a bit embarrassed. "And the Pokemon one was cute, kind of... it was annoying at first, but...." "Okay, okay, what it is," Once Petra finally figures out what's causing so much distress to her in this outing, she snaps her attention back to Lilian and lowers her voice fractionally to keep either Green or the gnomes from overhearing, "It's because of the total discrepency in tone, right? It's supposed to be some big diplomatic meeting with a new species, negotiating between the fucking United States government and the emergent leader of a nonhuman civilization, but, like, here they are, just fucking waving pocket knives around and yelling about R-rated movies and sitting on their fucking two-foot-tall asses waiting for us to solve everything for them." "If it was all cutesy, I'd be fine. Lighthearted stuff is nice! If it was all serious, and these were real fucking people we were negotiating for, like, actually getting their well-being and rights respected and stuff, then I'd be super into that. But it feels kind of like being mocked, this way, right?"
Petra Soroka	> I copy. > Worst case, > > > > > > > > > > > Reflexively, when Petra's phone buzzes for every message Dysnomia sends, Petra flips it open, navigates to the group chat, and blocks her without even thinking about it. She stares at the screen for a moment longer, wondering if she should've read the messages first before doing that, but then shrugs and puts it away.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Petra: "You've only been here a week, dude. Is finding a new home after a week seriously that much of an infringement on your fucking gnomish rights?" The head guard sputters in indignation. "D-do you have a better place in mind? Can you ensure we'll get there safely, and be able to stay all together like we ought to? If you really can, His Majesty might-" "I'm not going to talk to the gnome king. I'm going to do something else. Something other than that." He trails off as Petra shuffles away. His only remaining flunkie pats him on the shoulder reassuringly. Lilian: "Without you, the King may of course simply decide that allowing you to cross the eventual American border is an irrelevant concession to demand." The old woman raises an eyebrow. "You're saying that the King might throw us under the bus if he doesn't get our support? I hate to admit that you're probably right on that count..." She rubs her chin in thought. The teenage-voiced gnome speaks up. "You aren't just gonna let this lady boss us around, are you!?" "It's not 'bossing us around', she's making a real point. I'll go have a talk with some of the others in the opposition and see what they think about negotiating alongside the King for now." She sets down her sign and hustles off into the park. "You'd better be right about this, lady." Rita: "Um, can I try, actually?" The gnome rifles through their pockets. "That was my last purple, but you can have one, sure. You're one of the outsider diplomats that showed up, right? Heard a couple of 'em were meeting with His Majesty. It's good of y'all to hear what the rest of us have to say, though." They smile gently as they hand over a small green stone with a whorled pattern. It has a metallic tang to it, and cracking it apart is just a matter of applying enough force - it must be softer than tooth enamel. "There's a river going through here, isn't there? I could teach you to fish!" "You know, that might be a sound idea. There's a river on this mountain, outsiders call it the Little River but it's plenty big for us, aheh. We haven't had fish since the first day or so, because the outsiders didn't keep much of it on ice at the restaurants here."
Madeleine Cadrasteia	rm22@throwaway: Ms. Madeleine, can you get them in touch with the people who were running the fly fishing lure contest? madcad@mcrd: I picked up some business cards at the fair, so yeah. Let me make some phone calls. Madeleine, after answering her phone, heads out to the van to find her shopping bag from yesterday's fair and contact the vendors whose information she picked up. Shinmyoumaru: "My name is Shinmyoumaru Sukuna, princess of the inchlings of the Shining Needle Castle." "The outsiders know I have had enough of presidents, so now they send princesses! A-ha-ha." "It's a place where people come to see things, so what if they came to see you and things you made, too?" The King folds his arms, his expression and tone turning serious. "You would have us be a spectacle for the outsiders, to earn our keep? Little more than jesters, dancing for our dinner. Look at the tiny men, with their tiny chairs and tiny tools! Bah. I will entertain no such degradations of my people!" At least, not without a clearer argument in favor of the idea. Dysnomia's cursory skim of the King's thoughts turn up a great deal of anxiety - despite his verbal posturing, he understands that the situation is dire and a solution is needed soon. The overt refusal of the Princess's suggestion is like the first steps of haggling - a seller offers their goods for a ludicrous price, and the buyer makes a pitiful counter-offer, but neither party really expects their initial demand granted. Dysnomia: "I and my friend can offer some logistic support--things like food, infrastructure--If you're willing to work with us." At this, the King smiles broadly. "I would be delighted to hear what that entails to you. My people need a safe home, but there are things we can't do for ourselves yet. If you can help us meet those needs, well, I'm sure we can come to an agreement! A ha ha."
Calvin Nash	Oh thank god. Is the president just going to say it's fine, or whatever? opposition says the prez is a do-nothin easy win right here I suppose anything is plausible in American politics. No matter how transparently stupid. "Hm." Calvin rubs his chin with his free hand. Is all this stupid? It doesn't seem too different from his usual job. rm22@throwaway: Also they can't have the whole mountain. A few thousand people live here. That much does give Calvin pause, drawing a frown of consideration in place of his usual officilous mask. His head flicks to one side as he types a reply. they can have the inside n the humans stay where theyre at easy fix
Madeleine Cadrasteia	After a few minutes, Mr Green returns from his phone calls. "Alright, mister- Nash, was it? I've just got off the phone with the President." He clearly loves getting to say that, even if he's doing his best to stay serious. "He's given me the go-ahead to have the Department start drafting a treaty while we negotiate terms with their king. But to do that we need a clearer picture of what they want. We can't give them the whole mountain, of course, people already live and work here. And I think the little fellows still don't like me. So it's going to fall to your people to actually sit down with their people and come up with some points for me to approve. Think you can handle that, Mister Nash?"
Shinmyoumaru Sukuna	"They didn't send me, I sent me!" Shinmyoumaru brings herself up to her full height (currently: four foot even), realizes that is exactly the wrong message, and turns to Dysnomia for a moment. "Don't tell the others," she says, warningly, before pulling out her Miracle Mallet and hitting herself on the head with it. (Not hard. She barely ruffles her hair.) "Back to normal," Shinmyoumaru says as she does it - And she drops right back down to her actual, real height. Which is, as it turns out, much closer to 'a couple inches' than what she was standing at mere moments ago. Madeleine knows, but if some of the others find out (and haven't figured it out themselves when she called herself the descendant of Issun-boshi) she doesn't think she'll ever hear the end of it! Shinmyoumaru waves with both hands. "I was using magic before because nobody listens to an inchling, but I wanted to show you so you know I wouldn't tell anyone that they should be laughed at! I would NEVER," she huffs. "And if you laugh at me I'm walking right out!!" "But that's why people come here. That's why there's anything in the gift shop and why there's money and restaurants and everything else. To see things! So if you could make things for the gift shop, and sell them, well, that'd be your money, wouldn't it? All the money and treasures you took, that's how you can get more of them! Or show people around the mountain, to look at. The OUTSIDE. Or the area around it." She assumes the inside is, of course, the gnomes'. "And then they leave again, happy, and you get something out of it; and the government is happy, so they don't do anything to stop you." Shinmyoumaru paces, moving toward the throne. She tends to hustle - it's not quite jogging and not quite skipping but she goes faster than you'd expect someone who could stand on your shoulder to manage. "And then you can buy the things you really want. That's trade. I wish people would do it with us! You have an opportunity here!" She takes a spot closer to the throne, with her neck craned well back so she can still look at the king gnome's face. "I'm one of those people, with the Concord. I can help you with trading for things, and help you get started, and tell you where it's safe to travel to for the people who want to, but it's your kingdom, so it's your decision. But people like us have to stick together, you know...?"
Dysnomia	"I would be delighted to hear what that entails to you...If you can help us meet those needs, well, I'm sure we can come to an agreement! A ha ha." Oh stars, oh stars! She didn't plan it this far. What would Berislav ask for? What would Rita? What would Liza-- She was accousted, suddenly, by images of fields of nuclear fire and explosions. Okay. Maybe not Liza. "We're not associated with the United States, or those seeking to make you concede your land." She did her best to try to mollify him...Though, if she were he, Mia knew that wouldn't be enough to dissuade him. "Ultimately, my friends and I..." Oh god what did the Watch stand for? She tried to remember back to Vanth's lectures, Berislav's musings or Rita's...Rita. "...Want to make sure there's safety and freedom for the common people. What we want from you..." Desperately, Dysnomia was scrolling through articles in the back of her mind. "Is a method by which the common people can voice their needs." Okay, but how do you translate that into gnomes--"That means bare minimum...A place...where gnomes can make their voices heard and listened to." Would Rita like that? Rita would like that. Right? "As for us, We organize based on mutual aid." Dysnomia crossed her arms. "Where one place has in plenty, others struggle in scarcity. In this, we support each other." Dysnomia took a deep breath in, and out. If she had to actually get into the details of praxis, she would just die. "As for what we can do for you..." Grappling for something to change the course of the subject, Dysnomia purred her dimensional storage to life, pulling out her collection of personal snacks. "...I heard your people enjoy shiny stones." Dysnomia a trail of nuggets marched out of a warp in the air, like a heat wave made tangible. Little bite-sized fragments of silver, of gold, of bronze--Dysnomia herself grabbed a chunk of platnium and bit down on it, as a gesture of good faith--and NOT because she was anxious about how this was going. "What's more, I'm a skilled mechanic. I can build all sorts of things that can speed up your infrastructure. Water filters. Solar collectors. Excavation tools..."
Petra Soroka	"You aren't just gonna let this lady boss us around, are you!?" The baleful stare that Petra affixes the teenaged gnome with, leaning out from behind Lilian's back, is a complete death threat all on its own. She lingers on them until they turn to leave, and then blinks and returns back to talking with Lilian, her pupils metaphorically reappearing and the shadow over her eyes vanishing. "I've just got off the phone with the President." When Mr. Green comes back to report on his phone call, Petra suddenly has the thought that this might be the closest she's ever worked with the President. In all her work, with kings and gods and whoever else, somehow the actual American President has never come up. So, against all odds, and despite her misanthropy to the gnomes, she actually gives Mr. Green respect when he returns. "We can't give them the whole mountain, of course, people already live and work here." "Makes sense. There's not even all that many of them, anyways. And they're tiny, so they shouldn't need much." Once the State representative is out of earshot again, Petra looks at Calvin and Lilian, rolling her eyes a bit. "I don't even know why they want the whole mountain. They don't have any super strong attachment to this place, like, besides the fact that they're a week old and it's the only place they've ever known. I think trying to claim the mountain is just the same thing as whatever absurd fucking colonial urge gave them the idea of having a king and an army-- like, just, absorbed from being around humans, and stuff. So either it'll be really easy to convince them that the inside of the park is all they need to be fine, or it'll be really hard." Her head hangs and her shoulders droop, heaving with a sigh to brave herself for the upcoming trial. "I can do it if we've got a goal. I can talk to the fucking gnome king, and I can do it politely, if there's a goal. At least one side of this stupid fucking thing has something they concretely want." Still beholden to being polite to Calvin doesn't seem to be causing Petra any issues at the moment. When they all get on their way, Petra gives him a low energy hi-five without it seeming particularly forced at all. "Nice work, dude."
Calvin Nash	Calvin looks up from his COMP as Darius returns from his call, his full attention back on the other person in the room. Think you can handle that, Mister Nash? "Yes sir I do," says Calvin with a firm nod. "Matter of fact," he adds, "We already got some folks on their way to talk to that king of theirs." "So I'll pass that along. I already spoke a little with some of 'em, so I know a little of what they want already." With a little raised index, the universal gesture for 'just a second,' Calvin pulls up his notes again. .exit .load note "So, they want the mountain--which'd seem like a thorny thing, on account of humans livin' 'round here too. But," he says, "They can eat rocks. What kinds, I dunno. So, y'all could just give 'em the inside of the mountain and they'd probably be fine, and then you wouldn't have to worry 'bout payin' this person or that person off." "Second, they don't want nobody comin 'round with weapons. Makes sense," he says. "They're okay with, ah, 'diplomats'--comin' round, so I wouldn't figure you can't mend them fences." Calvin looks up from his notes, brows raised. "That's just what I got my own self--like I said, we got people talkin' to the king right now, but I figure a little advance notice on what they're after wouldn't hurt none." Closing the COMP for the moment, he lets his hands find their spots on his belt loops. "I reckon we can get you somethin' a little more complete before too long--but I'm gonna get outta your hair and see how we're doin'." He lifts a hand to bend the brim of his hat at Darius, then leaves the gift shop and looks for a relatively quiet spot to do more messaging. .exit .load msg good news presidents on board state departments workin up a treaty they wanna know what the king wants whatchall got
Rita Ma	rm22@throwaway: Thank you, Ms. Madeleine! Her bottom lip wrinkles. rm22@throwaway: That's really smart, Mr. Nash. rm22@throwaway: But why do you type like that? rm22@throwaway: Is it like an accent? "Mmmm! Oh, thank you!" Rita says brightly, accepting the whorled green rock and then testing her teeth on it. Everything's softer than enamel, as far as she's concerned- a quarter of it comes off with a little crik, and she judges its flavor thoughtfully before crunching the little piece further like a dinner mint. "Huh... and the purples are different?" "Well, it's really sweet of you to share when you don't have a lot. Here- I brought some brined crab from home?" Rita takes a little tupperware container out of her icebox, a head-sized chunk of food for a gnome, and foists it onto them in return. "It's just natural, isn't it? If you're not talking to ordinary people, if you're not getting to know them, you can't do the right thing for them." She makes an utterly sunny expression before rising from her gnome-height crouch, dusting off her knees. "One of my friends is going to get you in touch with some fishinf experts, okay? I'll see you around!" Rita takes the shortest path back towards the entrance, which for her means enormous boulder-scaling casual hops, and checks her phone again while she does. rm22@throwaway: Asteroids are really smart, Ms. Mia!! rm22@throwaway: I think the rocks are like treats for them. rm22@throwaway: So they'd be really grateful if you could! She keeps to vaguely normal mobility at the last little scramble and ten-foot-hop-down to Petra, Lilian, and Calvin. "Ah- is the United States being okay to you?" she says, like it's all one amoeba-like political entity. The toothmarked shiny green rock is still in her hand.
Lilian Rook	'You're saying that the King might throw us under the bus if he doesn't get our support? I hate to admit that you're probably right on that count...' "Though I apparently have much to learn about the . . . intricacies, of American politics, were I in his position, negotiating with the meagre hand he has right now . . ." Lilian shrugs. "I would." 'You aren't just gonna let this lady boss us around, are you!?' "No, that would sound like 'get your asses off the premises before I have you all dragged away in chains'." Lilian rolls her eyes. "The fact is that your King is getting talks with the government, and you aren't. You can either organize and pressure him to represent your interests, or you can be left completely out of the loop when you're unilaterally declared citizens of your own country, and not the United States. Which, may I remind you, involves a border, and everything that comes with it. If you want to see your movies then you'd best hope not to get stuck here." 'I'll go have a talk with some of the others in the opposition and see what they think about negotiating alongside the King for now.' "I appreciate your cooperation." Lilian says, going so far as to imitate the first quarter of a bowing motion out of sheer momentary gratefulness to be done with it. 'But it feels kind of like being mocked, this way, right?' As Lilian and the gift shop organizer gnome part ways, Petra's weird narrative-obsessed rambling draws a tightly quarantined grimace halfway to Lilian's lips. Her stare forward narrows by one degree, and hardens by two. She breathes in between her teeth, and makes a sound as if having twisted her neck unpleasantly. "I wish you hadn't said that." Lilian says, stiffly. "I could have continued believing it was simply my own lack of moral character, so long as the words remained in my head." She lets her gaze drift to the doorway, heavy with misgiving thoughts. "How long has Cadrasteia been scamming people into doing this?" She goes back to tapping at her phone with two fingernails. »My my. »You'll fly all the way into outer space and perform hard labour harvesting trace metals from solid rocks, hurtling around at millions of miles per hour in near absolute zero conditions, for what? »Because these people are so haplessly recalcitrant that you can't think of anything to do but to break your back for them? »But when someone asks you for a simple favour, or even just a question, you're like a Spartan at Thermoplyae. »For someone so furiously proud of no longer being a menial labourer, you're quite eager to advertise that your labour is all you think you're good for, and that you don't seriously expect anyone to pay for it. 'I don't even know why they want the whole mountain.' Slightly distracted by the tapping motions of textual violence, Lilian talks with Petra on the move. "An important rule for getting through life is to never ask for only what you need; or even only what you want. People on average perceive being asked for something as a sort of violent act, so to affirm their fitness and demonstrate that they're not a submissive mark, they have to turn you down. You always demand extra; things that you didn't even want in the first place; so they puff up and tell you 'no' about most of it, and feel pleased with themselves about letting you have what you wanted in the first place. Overreaching into the most that he could credibly demand is simply the correct decision." ". . . That, or just because 'the mountain' is something uncomplicated to divvy up."
Petra Soroka	"I could have continued believing it was simply my own lack of moral character, so long as the words remained in my head." Petra falls silent for a second, absorbed in a thought. She snapshots this interaction in her mind, and packages it up into a minor factional relationship development of 'Ash Liked That++", though she doesn't have any plans to actually tell them about the moment. It's hard not to be acutely aware of the phenomenon after talking with them, though. "... Sorry. But I don't like the idea of letting you feel insane just to justify acting polite to these fucking freaks while they treat you however the fuck they like. I fucking hate that." Petra's voice lowers, boilingly heartfelt. "I'll figure out something to do to Cadrasteia later." Then she brightens, tilting her chin up to smile at Lilian. "Well, I guess overall, I did have a nice time last night." The sweet moment is quickly invaded by Sin, and Petra's eyes widen as she hastily tries to correct herself. "Er-- like, at the fair, I mean, not that, like-- I was thinking of the fair." ". . . That, or just because 'the mountain' is something uncomplicated to divvy up." Petra listens, raptly focused through Lilian's explanation, inscribing the knowledge into her worldview unquestioningly. When she's done, though, Petra slowly nods, and eventually says, "... I think, it's probably, because he's dumb and it's simple, yeah."
Madeleine Cadrasteia	The King's eyes go wide as Shinmyoumaru performs (or more accurately, un-does) her magic size-changing. "Double gnome..." whispers one of the courtiers. There's a few smiles, but nobody laughs. "A gnome crafts shop, hm?" says the King in reply to Shinmyoumaru's suggestion. "Or gnome-led tours of the mountain, if I catch your meaning right. That would help us make ends meet... and there's so many outsiders, that we'd never run out of people to sell to. You may be on to something, Princess." "But people like us have to stick together, you know...?" "We DO. I'm glad you understand, Princess. I just hope we can get the outsiders to see our point of view." Dysnomia: "That means bare minimum...A place...where gnomes can make their voices heard and listened to." "You're suggesting a sort of public forum? I think that's a fair enough request, in return for material aid. I'll see to it that one is set up posthaste after the outsiders are gone." As the various metals and minerals emerge from Dysnomia's collection, the King's jaw drops in amazement. "Pure gold..." he mutters, half to himself. "Can you teach us how to do that? Where does it come from?" He seems more taken with the show of immediate wealth than with the offers of infrastructure, but Mia's list of machines and tools is met with nodding and mumbling agreement from the King's court. Petra: "I don't even know why they want the whole mountain." Lilian: "An important rule for getting through life is to never ask for only what you need; or even only what you want." "She's right," Darius says with a nod to Lilian. "It's important to be assertive. I don't know if I'd say it's for all the same reasons as the Chevalier says, but she's got the gist of it." Calvin: "So, y'all could just give 'em the inside of the mountain and they'd probably be fine, and then you wouldn't have to worry 'bout payin' this person or that person off." "Mineral rights," Darius says. "That's not something I'd have expected they'd want. You're right that it'd be very expensive to move every person off the mountain. But as long as we make clear that they can't mine too close to the towns or their groundwater reserves, and they agree to a little oversight to make sure they don't... I think that's tenable, yes." Rita exchanges food with a gnome. "Yeah, purple ones're saltier. Hey, this crab stuff hits the spot! Thanks a bunch, uh, Miss." "If you're not talking to ordinary people, if you're not getting to know them, you can't do the right thing for them." "Hey, it's great to know that the negotiators have good people like you with 'em. See ya!" Lilian: "Were I in his position, negotiating with the meagre hand he has right now . . . I would." "Hey! Well, I'm glad you're not in his position, because you sound even worse than the 'king'!" "No, that would sound like 'get your asses off the premises before I have you all dragged away in chains'." If the gnome teen wasn't bristling with hostility before, he is now. He opens his mouth and begins, "Why you-" "If you want to see your movies then you'd best hope not to get stuck here." ...Aaaand he's shut up again.
Dysnomia	rm22@throwaway: Asteroids are really smart, Ms. Mia!! rm22@throwaway: I think the rocks are like treats for them. rm22@throwaway: So they'd be really grateful if you could! Dysnomia couldn't help but smile, preening a little in the face of Rita's approval. She was doing well! She was doing well. Right? "Can you teach us how to do that? Where does it come from?" "I'm not generating it from the air, if that's what you're thinking," Dysnomia's smiling now. "It's a dimensional storage." Upon seeing the blank faces of the Court, she kept going. "...A device for storing objects within a space smaller than would usually be possible in baseline reality." "That much, I can make for you, though it might prove expensive to maintain. We can open further discussions as well--" There's a ping, and Dysnomia's eyes dart to the side to see a new message. »For someone so furiously proud of no longer being a menial labourer, you're quite eager to advertise that your labour is all you think you're good for, and that you don't seriously expect anyone to pay for it. Dysnomia made a sound as if shot, a burst of ozone-rich air snorting out through her nostrils as her hands curled up into fists. Don't respond. Rita is watching. Stay professional. Stay cool, stay in control. You've become so hysterical. Dysnomia's smile didn't quite reach her eyes, as she looked to the king. "I don't want to interrupt your congress with the good princess." Dysnomia held a hand out toward the little inchling. "Please, feel free to work out your bargain with her. I need to work out some details with the others." Dysnomia stepped back, flicked open the chat window. > What under the stars did I fucking do to you. > To deserve being treated like this. > Does it give you some kind of thrill? > Make you feel safe? > I'd ask if you had the self-control. > But I know you do. > You've simply decided not to fucking use it. > I'm not some bitter princess, whinging about being alone. > Or some incompetent squirrel, betraying everything around him without even realizing. > Why not save it for someone who fucking hates you. For ONCE.
Shinmyoumaru Sukuna	Nobody laughs, and Shinmyoumaru can handle a comment of double gnome. She'd like to think they sounded impressed. "Something like that," she agrees, instead. "It depends what they want and what you want... that's one of the things you'll need to talk to them about!" Shinmyoumaru finds the place to stand where her neck won't get too sore and she still gets a good look up at the king. "They're going to want things from you just like you want things from them. And she's right, some kind of forum..." Shinmyoumaru worries at her lip with her teeth for a moment while she's thinking. "Some of the other gnomes are upset, because they think you're keeping them from - well, everything. I know you were keeping them safe, but they're going to need to say what they want, too. I know some want to see other places." Shinmyoumaru is not very good about checking her messages, but she eventually thinks to. "Um, one moment," she says, letting Dysnomia show off her metal for a moment as she sends messages back to Calvin. <ochiba> He's willing to talk! <ochiba> He wants to be safe but I got him thinking about a gift shop, and making things for it, so the gnomes have something to trade too, and tours, and things, so they will let people on the mountain, just not into the parts where they're living necessarily... <ochiba> How do you change the name on this. Why is it writing Ochiba all the time? (Because the only phone Shinmyoumaru has that handles text messages is the Spider Phone.) She shoves it away again. "But that's the easier part," Shinmyoumaru says. "I mean, it's hard, but once you know what you're going to do it's just getting there. And then there'll be a place for you too...!" Shinmyoumaru hesitates, as Dysnomia steps away. She didn't get the messages Lilian sent her, of course, so she doesn't get it. Her smile fades for a moment and doesn't quite meet her eyes either. "You can stay if you want...? But all right!" She isn't going to stop her. Shinmyoumaru will quite happily help mediate any way she can, though she is inclined to take the gnomes' side in much the same way as she feels Calvin defaults to the human side: not aggressively, but enough that it feels like they're working with that side primarily and reaching out toward the other. She puts her human-size (or nearly so) sorcery back on before any humans show up to make a deal, though.
Rita Ma	"Ms. Petra!" Rita says with a slightly fatigued brightness, trotting over with mud-and-moss-flecked shoes from her mountain escapade. Absence has smoothed over, at least in her mind, the awkwardness between them. "I got you something!" She holds out a little grass-green whorl-patterned rock, the type of semi-semi-precious thing you'd find at a boondoggle gift shop, with a perfect shark bite taken out of it. It's a treat, but she forgets to say that. Or, rather, before she can say it, her little phone buzzes (perhaps belatedly). She checks it. Then she smiles. Then she winces, and the wince twists into a kind of awkward mouth-open disappointment grimace. Rita glances from the corner of her head-tilt at Lilian, but it can't have the same piercing energy as that first look in the gravel parking lot. She's too worn-down for that. "You're not feeling like yourself, Ms. Rook," she says uneasily, and hopes it's true. "Please go do something nice for yourself. I'll take care of this here, okay?" She heads inside and orbits silently near Dysnomia for a while as a steadying presence, talking over the 'mineral rights' and how the current human residents can stay with the King, and then helping to sort out the transition to local-caught and grown food food over pricey imports. The ride home isn't something she'd like to think about right now.
Petra Soroka	» For someone so furiously proud of no longer being a menial labourer, you're quite eager to advertise that your labour is all you think you're good for, and that you don't seriously expect anyone to pay for it. Petra checks her phone for Lilian's messages, of course. It only takes her one contextless readthrough for her to figure out who she's actually replying to, and she unblocks Dysnomia's number to get in on the tea. "Oh my god. You knocked her straight to bargaining." Petra snickers, repeating 'for ONCE' under her breath in a mockingly whiny voice. "It's like she can't process that being rude and unpleasant makes people not like you. Damn. Her vision of the world has to be sooo miserable, with everyone in the sector not giving a shit about her by pure coincidence that she has no control over." » self control is when you don't point out the insane inconsistency in how someone expends their effort » lol » maybe start from recognizing that she does have self control and read her words for why she /chose/ to say it anyways Ah- is the United States being okay to you?" "Oh, hey Rita," Petra looks up from her phone, still a little too stiff from their earlier argument to light up at her appearance. Being called out to, though, strains that stiffness until it crumbles away around her, allowing an awkward smile to bloom across her face. Her smile quickly freezes in bemusement when Rita hands her what appears to be a completely normal rock with a bite taken out of it, with a pattern matching... the sandwich from yesterday? "Oh, um, th-thanks...? Oh, this is--" Petra is halfway through convincing herself that Rita just found a rock naturally like this and immediately thought about giving it to her as a gift because of her known and ornamented fixation on teeth, when a shock of cold dread runs through her. She snaps her face up from the rock, catches the edge of Rita's expression before she starts talking, and then immediately starts trying to talk over her as if they just coincidentally started speaking at the same time. "Oh, hey, Rita, I was just about to go split off to go talk to that king guy about some of the terms, but I don't know the way there; do you want to just walk together?" It's transparently just an attempt to throw herself as a barrier in the way of whatever Rita is trying to say to ruin Lilian's mood again, made more obvious by the way that Petra physically intercedes to start leading Rita down that path with herself in between her and Lilian. But, maybe, that's enough of an excuse to get Rita to take the nonconfrontational way out-- Petra does know that that's a weakness of hers, after all.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Over the remainder of the day, the human and gnomish governments are slowly nudged into agreement with one another until finally a treaty is approved by both the State Department and the King of the Mountain. Now that the Elites have cemented a pivotal role in the behind-the-curtain proceedings, Governor Murtaugh arranges plane tickets back to DC for any who need to get back to their own worlds ASAP, while Madeleine spends the better part of a week collecting data on the gnomes and their origins. During this time the Watch sets to work quietly procuring material to foster the gnomes' independence, with an infusion of cash from a little discreet asteroid mining. Solar panels, water filtration systems, and more put Rock City on its own 'grid' separate from the surrounding states. The treaty-defined right to fish the Little River is realized with the cooperation of local experts and manufacturers. By the end of the week the local and national governments are ready to go public about the gnomes' takeover of the mountain. Darius Green dovetails peaceful first contact with the gnomes into a fledgling Commonwealth affiliation, and rumor spreads among those in the know that the President may soon name Mr Green to lead a new 'Bureau of Otherworldly Affairs'. All the while the machinery of the Concord runs in the background. Incident reports lead to MCRD classification, which leads to the establishment of a new liaison office in the little town of Lookout Mountain, Georgia. The gnomes keep an ear to the ground about other supernatural events on their world, and in return the Division helps them sort out the remaining bureaucratic noise of founding a new city-state. Three weeks later, a gnome steps out of a cinema in Miami Beach. As he gets into a cab, the driver asks where he's from. "Rock City!" he proudly proclaims. "Best view in the country. You can see seven states from there!"