Scene #9216: The Photographer-1

Owner	Pose
Distortion Dets.	Following a small conference she's had with Father Berislav given his role as one of the more prominent Watch organizers within the City as a whole, Detective Moses, a Fixer and Private Eye from the City, has asked to meet with some of the Watch operatives Berislav has worked beside, to talk about future work she'd like to pursue with the group. As a Fixer office underneath the umbrella of the Seven Association, PI work downright mundane- the Seven Association prides itself on espionage, information gathering, and investigation services -but murmurs online, to those inclined to search them out, make mention of how this office in particular seems, nowadays, to be seeking out only the most unusual of cases, clients, and bounties that come their way. Getting within the borders of the Nest by any method but through its warp gate port of entry is a hassle to say the least; thanks to an increase in how many backstreets residents are vying for even temporary entry to the nests, simply crossing through the near endless expanse of the City by land nets travelers with extreme scrutiny. Those coming in via warp gate, especially those provably Outsiders, are tenuously still allowed entry; N-Corp assumes off-world visitors aren't likely to stay. The fact that some paperwork has been filed ahead of time for you, vouching that you're to be here as 'hired outside consulting for Association business', eases things along only slightly. However- once through, District 14's Nest, the seat of N-Corp's power, reveals itself to be a sprawling metropolis of stark white marble, on and on from towering skyscraper complexes out to the quiet residential boroughs, such as the one Moses' Office resides within. The too-bright streets are hostile, and almost alien, in full sunlight. Buildings with high enough albedo to nearly glow can't be good for the eyes, but resident pedestrians carry on like it's nothing, or like they want it to seem like nothing. Trams, taxis, and delayed busses ferry those not interested in walking the long distance out to the residential sections of the Nest. . . . "Hey there! We've been expecting you!!", or some permutation of that sentiment, rings out to every newcomer. Ezra, the cheery assistant to the Detective, meets the Elites at the Office threshold, and leads them inside to a chamber that could almost serve as a formal dining room, were it not always set up specifically for meetings like today's. A longer room, to fit with the whole building being a thin, deep townhouse, and placed off to the side of where stairs lead up and down (cordoned off by "Oh, don't go down there, it's just storage," and "Upstairs is just where our bedrooms are, not business stuff."), the space within is dominated by a chair-lined table, and bookshelves along the walls. Inside, Moses lurks, fretting over lighting candle after candle on top of bookshelves and the central table, to provide the windowless room some amount of real light, while electric lamps loom around, temporarily useless. Still, weeks and weeks after disaster and two whole districts away from the husk of L-corp, in the synthetic perfectionism of another Wing's capital city, rolling power outages come and go and come again. Where candlesmoke doesn't hang heavy in the air, tobacco does- resting, still gently smoldering, by her seat at the head of the table is her ornate smoking pipe, red tassel smeared out over the lacquered wood surface and stacked paper files like fresh blood's spray.
Distortion Dets.	While she'll nod a small greeting towards those who seat themselves in the conference room, Moses stays otherwise quiet until the mass of guests reaches close to the expected threshold- she doesn't want to repeat herself, is what she'd tell herself to excuse not sparing the time and shifted focus to start talking with newcomers yet. Ezra, meanwhile, with a 'Pssst,', bugs everyone for whether they'll want any refreshments, be it teas, coffees, or cute little supermarket butter cookies (animal shaped!) Ezra picked up and is eager to pile on serving saucers. "Ahem-" Moses coughs, clearing her throat as she stands behind her place's chair. Thin fingers pick up her pipe, and her pose immediately relaxes, even before it meets her lips. When the woman speaks, she sounds weary. "No point in waiting around any longer. Detective Moses, Fixer Grade Five, Operator of this establishment. I hope you've all been well." "Raise a hand, any of you, who have yet to hear of the ongoing phenomenon here in our City, where ordinary, mundane citizens suddenly undergo remarkable transformations into something ... else, than they were." 'Distortion', by her penning, 'Abnormalization' by White Dwarf's, other terms by various investigative bodies of the City. "I am, to the best of my knowledge, the closest thing to an expert on this subject. I am studying them. More, it is my goal to solve cases of this 'distortion'; wherein by confrontation, before or after emergence, they can find ways to pose no pressing threat to themselves, you, or anyone else. Unlike, for instance, the 'Pianist' who emerged within District Nine. I would ask your assistances with these goals of mine." "I believe myself to be the only expert because, as far as I have found, no others but I can see this phenomenon before it occurs."
Tamiel Luxis	"My my...What interesting company you're to keep, little light." "Who...?" "Why don't you tell me?" "...Oh. Ezra and Moses?" "Precisely--Detective Moses, she calls herself. I imagine the title is important to her. And yes. What mysterious things they delve into... This could be a wonderful learning experience. Put your best foot forward, won't you?" "...Okay. I will." The process of getting through the local warpgate is agonizingly slow, peppered with various 'excuse mes' and 'pardon mes' as she's combed over by an uncaring system, with her only weapon a piece of paper, wishing already that she'd tried just sneaking into the Nest on her own as she's shifted forward inch by inch by the slow gears of beauracracy. But then, she's through, and into District 14. She gawks. People live here...? They must. But, it didn't feel like a place made for people. Sanitized, worn down, clean to the point it hurt. She swallowed her anxiety, clamoring onto a tram after studying a map. Her relief on stepping into the office--and hearing Ezra's familiar voice--is tangible. "Ezra! Hi..." Her wing-shards flutter twice as she rushes up to the Fixer, lured in by her friendly disposition. "I wasn't sure I was going the right way...Everything here looks the same..." Tamiel settles in the conference room, "Oh...I like those..." She takes a little elephant shaped butter cookie, and a glass of water. "Thank you..." When the call comes for people to raise their hands, Tamiel's stays down. It'd been part of the dossier that Zazel had prepared for her. "You want to resolve it without destroying them, if you can..." Tamiel reiterates, a tilt of a head asking for confirmation. "...And learn about it?" "What do you mean you can see it...?"
Odette Raskins	Among those joining Berislav at today's meeting is one Odette Raskins, dressed in her City-recognizable Trideag jacket over her Company-provided EMT uniform jumpskirt in white and blue. She's wearing the usual cap with the medical symbols on the front, too, and her heavy white duffel bag bears the same symbol to make it extremely obvious she's medical personnel. Today isn't a day she's expecting to really need the bag at all, but she's still mildly paranoid that something might go wrong at a moment's notice. That's not for a lack of trying to go without it, but she had to double back to Trideag HQ after leaving without her bag made her feel naked. Getting through security is a normal routine to Odette, at least, even if it's still taking long enough for her eyes to feel a little funny by the time she gets to the Nest. She's still squinting slightly by the time she and most everyone else reaches the fixer office, but her tone is still chipper enough and her mood raised by Ezra's pleasant greeting. "Hello! Thank you for having us." She greets with a quick wave before reshouldering her bag, looking for a spot to put it down that won't get in the way without being too far away. She's too indecisive to settle on any one place, though, and ends up setting it right in her lap once she takes a seat roughly in the 'middle' of the provided seating area in the conference room. "Odette Raskins, Fixer Grade Seven. EMT from the Company, and Trideag member. I-it's nice to meet you both." She introduces herself quickly, then keeps her hand down when the prompt comes while sitll listening closely to Moses' explanation. That last revelation is what gets her attention more than anything else,. "Before? Then... W-wait, there's a way to stop it from happening? Or..." She pauses, then shakes her head and corrects herself. "No... Contain? Or... Change them, then? If there's a way to make them not create a second Pianist incident, then-" The image of those horrified musical note people's faces flashes before her eyes, and the look on her face says she wants to throw in with Detective Moses and Ezra already. She stops herself before making that kind of call right away, though, busying herself with one of Ezra's butter cookies (a big mouse) and thanking her before finally speaking up again. "What would our role be in all this? Um. M-ma'am?"
Father Berislav	"Hello again, Ezra," says Father Berislav, matching her cheer despite the blinding trip to the Office. He's never felt more in need of sunglasses than traveling here from the Gate in the middle of the day. Led inside, he greets moses, too. "Detective Moses! Thank you for having us." Unlike last time, he's come in his cassock. He takes a seat wherever, not picky about the particulars. Then he dabs at his brow with a handkerchief--even in the shade of the transit he'd taken, midday in this district (in a heavy garment like his cassock, no less) is hot. "Tea would be delightful," berislav softly answers Ezra when she asks, politely cupping one hand over his mouth. His hands remain politely folded on the table when Moses asks for anyone unaware to make themselves known. More, it is my goal to solve cases of this 'distortion'; wherein by confrontation, before or after emergence, they can find ways to pose no pressing threat to themselves, you, or anyone else. He does procure a ball point pen and a scrap of paper, making a few notes. He waits for the others, especially any who have raised their hands, to ask any questions or make their comments first. -Saya -'hurt themselves or others' What do you mean you can't see it...? "Just what it sounds like," answers Berislav. "Moses can literally see these 'Distortions' in others. Any of the rest of us would be relying on guesswork."
Redshift Operators	"Hurts my eyes." "It's branding." "In... what sense?" "I can't see a brand..." "Easy. They probably own the color white, culture-wise." "You can do that?" "Some guys own shades of colors. Makes sense." "Hmm." "What's with the look?" "I'm going to hate it here." "That's what I'm saying." "For reasons beyond sensory issues." "We can head back real quick and I can source a nuke." "No. I mean maybe." "We'll talk about it later." "Mmm. Mmhm." "I thought they said this place was having blackouts..." Can you imagine a bunch of tactical people in tactical gear walking through the streets? Well, I mean -- yeah. It's the City. But like tonally. Well, however they got here, they're here now. The gunman leads the way inside, still scowling with the posture of his back. He continues to respect local law just specifically for the purpose of avoiding heat and scrutiny: If he has to go through a terminal this time, no gun, but he's overstocked on grenades and has two launchers -- one drum grenade launcher and a one-and-a-half-handed single-shot thing as a so-called sidearm. If bullets are the problem, hey, he can work with that. They're probably going to pay taxes on a handful of bullets for their marksman though. No sense wasting skill like theirs. Anyway, when Red Dwarf and his gang take four seats. Three large snakes with various arrangements of shining green eyes coil around the gunman protectively, eyes narrowed and scrutinizing every face, Moses' in particular. Future-path images of the cyborg medic take a dozen seats before they collapse into her intended destination, her arm burning with a dark, variable inferno. The astronaut's visor leads to a starscape that zooms in at infinite detail the longer one looks, imparting more details down to grains of sand on planetary surfaces. And a stream of shimmering green fluid slowly leaks from every gap in the giant's armor, shuddering with life and then resting with absolute exhaustion. That's all actually not true. It's visible to only those who can see these sorts of things intuitively. It's four regular operators in four regular sets of tactical gear, of sorts. And one of them has planted his fingers on the table repeatedly. "Yeah? I've made some promises that I'm gonna help find whoever's causing this and put 'em in the dirt." He says. "So if your solving is willing to cut this out at the root, I wanna work with you."
Hibiki Tachibana	Hibiki is-- well, to be blunt, she's still not great, but she can at least get around without being worried over or being strongly advised to get more bedrest now. It helps that this is explicitly something where she's not going to have to fight, and not something where she says she's not going to have to fight, then ends up fighting anyway. Big difference. Not that that'd be a good idea right now regardless of how healed her body is... "Oh... uh, hey." She has to crane her neck up quite a bit to make eye contact with Ezra, giving a casual wave as she does so before her hand falls back to her side. "Just this floor here, got it." In she goes. They've never talked before, even over radio, but... This is also the first time she's really delved into the consequences of what happened at Lobotomy Corporation - events she hasn't exactly gone into detail about herself, despite being the only Watch member present at those final days. The rolling power outages are the least of all concerns, really, which says a lot. After taking a deep breath, she finds herself a seat and settles down stiffly, only perking up at Ezra's offer of refreshments-- where she quietly and somewhat awkwardly asks for both tea and a few of those cookies, before Moses speaking up draws her attention. "...Hibiki Tachibana," she starts, after the detective has finished going on, along with a raise of her hand. Important to get the introduction out of the way before she goes questioning. "I've only heard a few things... here and there. So if you'd be up for giving a detailed explanation about all of it, I'm all ears." Her hand comes back down. And her brow furrows, although her expression has been sort of tense ever since she walked in here in the first place. "...Especially if you're an expert. 'Find ways to pose no threat to themselves or anyone else'... ...that means you're trying to do more than just beat them, or stop them. ...That's something I can support." The corner of her lip curls down a bit too, and a maybe slightly out of left field question comes out. "...When you... see them, before they happen. What are they like?"
Distortion Dets.	'I wasn't sure I was going the right way...Everything here looks the same...' "Street name signs! They're nifty, they sit up on these big tall posts at intersections, tell ya which street you're on! It's one of the cool inventions the City has!" Does she really think the City is unique for having those? "Hey, whoah!!! What are those?!" Red alert! Wings noticed! "Where'd you get them? Are they Workshop-made? How much did they cost? Can I have a set?" 'Hello again, Ezra,' "Father! Hey, old man!" He's obviously younger than Moses, and not that much older than Ezra. The Fixer sticks her arms out wide- jacket-clad, and gloved, even indoors and even in the warmth -as if she's happy to receive a hug, but should he actually approach for one, Ezra takes a step back and closes up her posture. 'Just this floor here, got it.' "Mmhmm~!" Hand up in the 'this is a whispered secret' posture, Ezra says, full volume to Hibiki, "The Detective hasn't tidied up the upstairs, so she'd be embarrassed if anyone saw her notes and stuff!" Muffled, from further in, "Ezra! Behave!" . . . Ezra's touted store-bought butter cookies, animal(tm) shaped do advertise all sorts of creatures- but most are, in fact, nearly amorphous blobs. Some are cracked in half, only resorted to when filling plates up with them drains out the cookie bags she purchased. Teacups are brought out at the same time, filled already, and delivered about by the sidekick. She hums as she works. Once everything has been delivered, she lurks near the wall and the doorway, and pulls a pad of note paper out from an oversized pocket. Seems she's the scribe for today! As Moses' eyes pass over Red Dwarf in particular, a little habit of hers becomes just barely obvious- a quick shift of her gaze to Ezra, trying to gauge her reaction to the man. That she hasn't fixed attention on him, at least not beyond cursory introductions or comments at his gear being neat and nifty, lets the Detective relax a moment. 'I've only heard a few things... here and there. So if you'd be up for giving a detailed explanation about all of it, I'm all ears.' "Hahn. I see. I'm afraid there's little more detail to be said about the events, girl. That you've heard anything is more than most people out past these doors." Girl? Not even any name? She just introduced herself. "Vulnerable, stressed people, more than any others, are who the phenomenon seems to rear up within fastest. That, and that there does always, always, seem to be meaning to what it emerges as. As to why," She pauses, raising the pipe to her lips, "Nobody seems to know."
Distortion Dets.	"I'd like to discuss a few cases, from the past few weeks. Successes and failures both." Tapping her pipe back against the table, Moses's hand falls to the stack of papers, seating herself finally. She slides the documents out around the table, but carries on talking, explaining in rough detail the first case outlined within. "Case number four. I believe it's the first document there, if not, the top should say 'Those With the Sky Behind Their Eyes'. A business firm- no, I don't care what their focus was in -hired me about a number of their employees picking up strange habits, with some starting to fade away into nothing. Their eyes took on the colors and sights they could not see from the cubicles, of the sky, of gorgeous sunsets and sunrises," Moses doesn't elaborate on whether she was the only one who could see that tell, or not, "And that they would congregate near rooftops too long on breaks, get distracted by windows- it was interfering with their business, I'm told. Perhaps interfering more when they did, in fact, evaporate. 'That's all, their eyes are weird, and they're getting distracted by things? We'll just make 'em wear sunglasses and get them back on track'." Moses takes a long draw from her pipe. There's a faint red tint to the smoke that slips back out of her mouth. "Ridiculous. But they paid me to look into it, not to fix their problem. Nor to help anyone. I hear they stopped fading away. I also hear that the day after, the employees began jumping from their rooftop." Ezra, lingering at the edges of the room, makes a sad little sighing noise, a full six seconds after Moses had already finished recanting the case. The Detective starts up again, to make her point- "It's become clear to me there is no way to 'solve' a Distortion event by simply forcing it away. Each case has something it wants, stoppering that up..." She lets her voice fade off into pipesmoke. 'W-wait, there's a way to stop it from happening?' 'No... Contain? Or... Change them, then?' "Solve. Understand, analyze, disarm, and," With a bit of bitter vitriol in her voice, "If permitted, Help. Most clients... favor other things. Preventing them may be too great a task, Miss Raskins. Not one other person I've met has been fully free of its signs." 'Yeah? I've made some promises that I'm gonna help find whoever's causing this and put 'em in the dirt.' "Hahh. How satisfied are you in your current employment? Ezra, can we afford another assistant?-" "It'd be really tight... hey!! I don't want to be replaced!" "You won't be. ...I'd just lower your pay-" "NoOo..!!" Moses coughs, and the faint note of humor drops away. "No, no matter. A lot of blood is on someone's hands. More will be. Roots are rotting somewhere."
Tamiel Luxis	"Street name signs!" Tamiel covered her mouth with her hand, trying to strangle a giggle. Ezra was too energetic and good-spirited for Tamiel to take it as an insult. "Oh um...These...?" Her wings 'flexed,' asofar as they could said to flex--floating, gleaming shards hanging in the air. "Um. These are my wings? I didn't buy them...I just have them..." "You can look...If you want..." She plucked one of the shards from the air behind her, gingerly offering one to Ezra to hold. It's warm the the touch, and iridescent under the light--somehow brighter than the light of the office should have been. "But...Um...You can't get them in a Workshop..." When the others introduce themselves, Tamiel realizes that Ezra probably wasn't supposed to be on the air--and hadn't told Moses much. "Tamiel Luxis. Aquisition and intelligence agent for the Gloaming Atheneum. Um... I haven't been involved much in the city, but. I've picked things up." "I also hear that the day after, the employees began jumping from their rooftop." "That's horrible!" Tamiel clutched a hand over her heart, unable to contain her outburst. "I'm sorry..." She cleared her throat. "If this is happening to people, and the people in charge won't help them...We have to." "If permitted, Help. Most clients... favor other things." Tamiel chewed on her lip for a moment, and then, slowly. "If you're not 'permitted,' then maybe, what you learn might 'happen' to be heard by someone who doesn't have to answer to the Association..." She clutched nervously at her wrist, but forged onward. "...It's not like you could help that. Right?"
Redshift Operators	"Hahh. How satisfied are you in your current employment?" "If there was someone in this City who could pay me what I want," The gunman grumbles sourly. "Then there wouldn't be much of a City left." He makes a dismissing gesture. "And trust me, you don't want the liability." It's... distinctly not a firm rejection? More like a yes-and designed to give her an excuse. "Either way, it's the job I'm doing here in this city." He says, sourly. "If the companies around here wanna handle it this way..." A bit of headshaking. "Can't promise I won't take the short and bloody way through that." "He adores taking the short and bloody path through." The team's medic speaks up, looking with a lot of interest at Moses. "It sounds like you're working within bounds. Nobody plans to pay you for the privilege of getting told to stop hurting the ones they wish to hurt." She nods along as she establishes her premise. One of her future-predictions leans over and asks, "What if we chose to act in your place, to violently solve those problems you find unsolvable?" Then she seems displeased at whatever prediction she sees, but interested... She leans towards the squad leader and whispers something in his ear. He perks an antenna on his helmet, looks to her, and says, "Info's info. Even if you never can get at the right way to solve things on your own, knowing how can still be good. Can get to the right people eventually -- if you know where to say it." In front of him, one assumes. He crosses one arm in front of him guardedly while one of those serpants, with three eyes, whispers in his ear, and keeps that finger waggling at her. "Our operations are heavier but we know how to work inside a company. Good for security too. I think you definitely want us on your team, helping out." And presumably knowing names and faces to kill surreptitiously, and with much smokescreen to obfuscate Moses' involvement, later.
Odette Raskins	It's the cool angel lady! Odette waves at Tamiel lightly in greeting when she sees her, raising an eyebrow curiously when it appears that she and Ezra might actually know each other. "Ah.... Hello again, Miss Tamiel. I didn't know you two..." Wait. Ezra seems surprised by Tamiel's wings. Do they not? Still, Ezra's visible excitement over the wings ends up being a little infectiosu to Odette, too. "Getting a set of something like those isn't a bad idea... Imagine being able to fly around the City with those!" Berislav's a familiar face as well, and ODette waves quickly in greeting to him, too. "Oh! Father Berislav. How long have you-" Wait. That might be really impolite to ask. She sweats a bit as she struggles to come up with a more polite way to finish that thought, opening and closing her mouth a few times before relinquishing her shame and just going for it. "-known each other before today?" The Redshifts, as usual, grab Odette's attention rather quickly, and she sits almost stock still when they take their seats. "H... Hell..." She barely manages to get out, not quite able to get her voice working right. How could she? They're so cool, even while sitting around a table! Odette keeps glancing towards the giant in particular, quickly averting her gaze if it so much as feels like he's starting to turn in her direction. Hibiki's condition continues to be something that raises Odette's concern levels immediately, of course, and she gets up for a moment to offer her some painkillers and do a quick check up right then and there. "Hi, Hibiki. Need any bandages changed, or...?" She pats her bag, as though the sight of that might be reassuring in some way. She's got plenty of reasons to worry about her, after all. Moses gets to explaining things, and it helps solidify some of what Odette's heard before. It's the cases she brings up that really grab the EMT's attention, though, and she barely even takes a nibble or bite while her attention is held firmly by case four. She peeks over when the name gets dropped, craning her neck some to look it over while being careful not to nudge the papers around herself. The roof jumping part has her flinching briefly, but she keeps her cool and hums quietly in thought as the purpose of understanding the Distortions rather than forcing them to stop becomes clearer. "It doesn't sound like forcing them to stop would actually help or... Change anything, no. But understanding what they're all about..." She closes her eyes, rolling back and forth on her seat a bit as things starts to click. "That's what you meant about finding ways to reduce the threat, then... So there aren't more jumps from trying to force them away or..." Odette sighs lightly. "Anything like the Pianist, and... All that stuff going out of control. And if it's not permitted-" She nods towards Tamiel, then switches her EMT cap out for a drab gray one from her bag. "Then... Well. Something unrelated happened and... Things worked out."
Hibiki Tachibana	Vulnerable, stressed people, more than any others, are who the phenomenon seems to rear up within fastest. That, and that there does always, always, seem to be meaning to what it emerges as. "...Mn..." Hibiki's frown shifts a bit, and she masks the way she glances away towards a wall with a slow sip of tea. As to why, nobody seems to know. Sip. "...I see. If it's been going on over the last few weeks, then..." She trails off, in her thoughts enough that she's not particularly bothered about the name she just gave not being used. Still, it's not as if it's hard to guess where she was going with that; even if most wouldn't know any details of the event besides what happened on the outside. She sighs, closing her eyes and taking in the elaboration on case four, just to open them again with her gaze down on the table surface rather than the documents they've been handed. "...They all have something they want..." She can't help but mentally tie that to the Sephirah Meltdowns in Lobotomy Corporation. All of them /needed/ the resolution to their trauma, to finally move on... and to water the Seed of Light. ...Even she, once upon a time, had something she needed, but didn't have. Even if the circumstances were different, she at least knows what happens when you try to force something like that to stop, rather than addressing why it's happening in the first place. A lot of blood is on someone's hands. More will be. Roots are rotting somewhere. Hibiki gives a breathless sort of quiet exhale - but when she turns her head back up to look at Ezra again, she simultaneously has more sunken eyes, and a little more resolution behind them. "...I'd like to lend a hand, at least. Even if the clients who hire you usually don't care about actually helping them... we're not 'the clients'." Which is basically Tamiel's unspoken sentiment, just spoken. As she does. Hi, Hibiki. Need any bandages changed, or...? "Ah..." Hibiki staightens up a bit, with Odette's concern immediately making her aware of her own physical condition again. Sort of like being told you're blinking. "I got them swapped out before I came, don't worry. ...A painkiller might not be terrible, though..." She takes them when they're offered, downing them with her tea. That brief check-up shows she's mostly healed up on the outside, some of the worst bruises and cuts notwithstanding. The bandaging is mostly for the sake of limiting her movement so she doesn't mess up her internal injuries, of which she still shows a lot of soreness when she gets prodded in certain spots. But as ever, she brushes off any concern about it with a nonetheless genuine, "...Thanks, Odette."
Father Berislav	Berislav had, notably, on his way in, been rused by Ezra's hug feint. He doesn't hold it against her; the finger-wag he gives her is more amused than anything.--- -'strange habits?' workers experiencing alienation -root causes must be addressed -most clients 'favor other things' The priest's frown is tight-lipped and annoyed as he jots that last note down. "I know you don't want to hear this, but what's 'causing this' is the City," he says, to Red Dwarf, looking up from his notes. "Yes, it's true that these Distortions are a new phenomenon. But, workers wishing desperately to be somewhere beautiful, instead of wasting the best years of their lives? Reactionary suicide? Far from a recent development, as much as it distresses me to say." "If we discover that there's someone at a switchboard, mashing a 'Distort' key, I'll be the first in line to help you, and I imagine you won't be short for help besides. What we do when we don't have leads from Detective Moses is just as important. I'm working on a long-term solution for the City's environment of apathetic cruelty. Before you tell me that you don't have the mind for that, I don't need you to--we need militants as much as we need gardeners. And a veteran vanquisher of evil like you could stand to learn something about the other half--about nurturing good, besides." "Speaking of which, Hibiki--we haven't seen you for some time at the hostel. Is everything alright?" Oh! Father Berislav. How long have you-known each other before today? "Not long," he says with a little smile.
Redshift Operators	The giant fixes one good eye on Odette. There's a long stare, and a long, heavy breath through the distorted voice of the helmet. His armor screeches softly with the small movements he makes, reaching in front of her slowly... He lifts one of the cookies, biting down on the head of one of the creatures. (It's the most ethical way to eat an animal cookie. That way they are traveling forward through the door into nutrition-land, instead of backwards.)
Distortion Dets.	Berislav's finger wag meets a very slight questioning gaze by the taller woman, as she takes a moment to understand and think back on why that's happened, or what she did- but she still breaks into a giggly smile a long moment later. "Oooh, I got you~! I really did~!" 'You can look...If you want...' "Huh? You embarrassed about it, junior? It's cool! Don't be!" Cheer is infectious, and Ezra is patient zero. "So they got passed down to you? Do they not make these anymore? That's a bummer..." Ezra pouts. She holds the shard up to the window, tilting it and watching the play of color flicker through, enamored. "Can these cut someone?" 'H... Hell...' From behind her, as Odette is seated down at the table, Ezra leans in. Somethin' up, Miss?" Then, actually whispering- "Do you have a problem with those guys? Something we should know..?" Trying to sniff out threats! She's being tactical! Red Dwarf's comments continue to draw attention from the Detective, pulled away momentarily most acutely by White Dwarf's future-forms, blinking and staring into empty space for a noticeable period of time to the rest of the table. She clears her throat, and resets her focus. "Short and bloody paths. Do those tend to ever lengthen for you? I'm curious what payment it is, that you say won't be given." 'It sounds like you're working within bounds.' "So long as that is what permits me to stay working, yes." She sighs, and rubs the back of her other hand, as if something there is sore. 'Even if you never can get at the right way to solve things on your own, knowing how can still be good. Can get to the right people eventually -- if you know where to say it.' Moses chews on the mouthpiece of her pipe, tense and mulling over the gunman's words. Even while she doesn't respond directly, it's clear she's receiving. 'I think you definitely want us on your team, helping out.' "I'm well acquainted with 'heavier' operations." Moses nods, curt. "You're correct. Don't think I'm understating myself, but I'm but one woman, as is my sidekick. I don't want to find too late that the day has come where our efforts fall short, and not have the resources to call upon." A little glance from Ezra loosens up Moses' obviously tense-shouldered posture. The Detective coughs, and- "I don't like to let favors go unrepaid. Know that the two of us would cooperate with you and yours, too, Mister." '...I see. If it's been going on over the last few weeks, then...' Moses glances Hibiki's way. "Ever since the sky ripped open into light, and then fell back. Ever since that Wing fell. Did you have more to say?" 'Even if the clients who hire you usually don't care about actually helping them... we're not 'the clients'.' "That's true. You aren't paying my bills." Sardonic, but nodding in general acceptance of the statement. "I need to do more than what is 'worthwhile spending on'. This is what I was hoping for."
Distortion Dets.	'That's what you meant about finding ways to reduce the threat, then... So there aren't more jumps from trying to force them away or...' 'But understanding what they're all about...' "Case number nine. I didn't name this one, as I only consulted. It'll have the number in the documents. A child," Neither name nor personal details show up in the report, preserving privacy. "From a fishing village in a neighboring district, one day was seen with the features of a large fish. I talked remotely with those hired to fix it, by the child's parents. It quickly became clear what the motive was, for the child's Distortion. The wide, sparkling lake the town was clustered around offered more promising comfort and companionship than anyone in the town would dole out, and none of the vitriol. More vitally than if I could tell them how to undo the change, 'is the child dangerous now?' was what everyone wanted to know. I worked too slow, I went unpaid, the child swam away. As far as I've heard, no one was hurt afterwards. In my eyes, that's one case I can call 'solved'." Eyebrows knit still, tired and unhappy. "Someone looking for escape, and getting it. I can't say it's the happiest outcome. I can say it's an outcome where someone was happier. 'Solved'." Ezra, on the side, mumbles- "You didn't tell me about that one, Detective..." 'If we discover that there's someone at a switchboard, mashing a 'Distort' key,' Moses laughs, hoarse. "Imagine that." 'And a veteran vanquisher of evil like you could stand to learn something about the other half--about nurturing good, besides.' Berislav's comment isn't directed at her, but Moses speaks up, quiet and raw. "Do you know a nurturer like that?"
Hibiki Tachibana	Speaking of which, Hibiki--we haven't seen you for some time at the hostel. Is everything alright? "Oh, I-- ...just really did a number on myself and Gungnir not long ago, that's all. I've spent a lot of time at home resting. It'll take sometime before I'm back at a hundred percent. I'm not sure how long..." None of which are lies she's giving Berislav, although she also isn't looking at him. After a moment of that though, she sighs and closes her eyes. "...No, everything's not alright. We should probably talk some... later." Ever since the sky ripped open into light, and then fell back. Ever since that Wing fell. Did you have more to say? Hibiki shakes her head slowly. "...No. That's what I was thinking of, too." But it'd just muck up what they're here for to go into details of that whole thing now, so she should save it. That's true. You aren't paying my bills. "Well-- if you ever came on hard times because of this, I mean..." She might only be absentmindedly offering to help shift the subject away. The wide, sparkling lake the town was clustered around offered more promising comfort and companionship than anyone in the town would dole out, and none of the vitriol. More vitally than if I could tell them how to undo the change, 'is the child dangerous now?' was what everyone wanted to know. Someone looking for escape, and getting it. I can't say it's the happiest outcome. I can say it's an outcome where someone was happier. 'Solved'. "...Even their own parents..." That note, in particular, gets Hibiki's shoulders slumping and for her to pause on taking a bite of one of Ezra's animal crackers. Her lips purse, her hand trembles-- and the poor cookie unceremoniously snaps in two, the half she's not still holding falling down to the table surface. "Ah..." That seems to snap her out of her own thoughts. After clearing her throat softly and picking it back up to eat, she continues, "...That's definitely one kind of 'solved'... yeah. Not perfect, but better than... what they had. But hearing that, I..." She trails off, just to speak up again somewhat more quietly. "...can see why you want all the help you can get. Working on these cases."
Tamiel Luxis	"So they got passed down to you? Do they not make these anymore? That's a bummer..." "...Yeah. From my parents." A weight fell on her mood, smile drooping, but Ezra's enthusiasm won the day. "...It's kind of complicated! There's some...tricks...And where I'm from, there's still some things...Kind of like them? They're really picky about who gets to have them." "Yeah, they can cut if I want them too...! And I control where they go, and how they move...It's easiest if they float behind me, but I can throw them around if I need to. And they're the main conduit for my...Um..." She stumbles over her words. "...Divinity. Anyway!" She leaves that point rapidly behind. "I can do a lot of stuff with its light." Her smile is a little embarrassed. "I'm really lucky..." Moses' story of the next case make Tamiel's wings droop to hear about it. There was something more tragic than horrifying about this one. Not people disappearing into the void, but a child, who didn't feel like home was ever their home. "Someone looking for escape, and getting it. I can't say it's the happiest outcome. I can say it's an outcome where someone was happier. 'Solved'." "...It's not the worst way for a prayer to end." Tamiel's eyes fell away. But 'not the worst' was faint praise, as the melacholy in her voice betrayed. "But. I understand. It feels like...There could have been a happier one. If more people were kinder." She found herself staring into her glass of water for a moment, watching the way it rippled. "I'd like it, if we could help 'solve' more of these cases in better ways with you."
Redshift Operators	"...I'm curious what payment it is..." "Death to the Egregore." The team leader says, a recitation that sounds doctrinal. "Anything that helps me find it, stop it, hurt it, or kill it. It's the only thing I want. If someone in the City was giving that out, the City wouldn't be much of what it is right now." He clenches his fist. "Bombs. Weapons. Information. Dead bodies. That bloody path only gets longer when I find more of what I need to be killing." "Know that the two of us would cooperate with you and yours, too, Mister." "Then that's something to kill it with too." He nods, and makes a gruff little subvocalization. "...One day was seen with the features of a large fish..." "I have known a similar event." Says the team medic, raising her arm. The soft whirs, clicks, and etchings make it clear that the prosthesis is well-cared-for, well-loved. "A woman, a member of the Middle, left for dead by the Black Silence's rampage. She was revived, with the head of a wolf. She is still active, though I couldn't say her intentions. She seemed... very human, otherwise. Maybe only 'to live' was her desire, and only 'to die' was her stress and vulnerability."
Odette Raskins	Hibiki gets the good painkillers! The slow-release ones, too, so she can really live without the suck for a while. "That's good. I've seen some people get some pretty bad infections just from keeping the same ones for way too long, so... Mm. Good call." True to form, Odette makes sure to offer Hibiki a pill bottle with more of the same painkillers. "One before bed isn't a bad idea, just to.. Um. Sleep better. I've used these a few times before after.. Um. Training." When she sees the giant staring right at her, though, she freezes right back up again. Her mind races as she tries to figure out why he's looking at her, and she raises a hand shakily to wave in a quiet greeting. There's a brief deer-in-the-headlights look when he bites off the 'head' off one of those 'animal' cookies, and Odette is visibly struggling a bit to comprehend that. Is it a signal? A greeting, perhaps? It can't be a threat, since she already knows he knows she's got a cover, but... Perhaps he's trying to show that he's aware of the cover, too! Glancing down at her own vaguely mouse-accented cookie, she holds it up briefly before taking a meek little bite out of what's left of the head. Will that gesture of solidarity reach him? "Somethin' up, Miss?" That, meanwhile, gets Odette to gag and choke briefly, nearly jumping out of her skin at her attention being snapped so suddenly away from the giant to Ezra. "H-huh? Wha..? Uh. N-no! No, th.. Um. the..." She stammers rapidly, pausing to down some water before shaking her head. "Not at all. Ah. The.. Um. O-opposite, even. The.." So much for trying to look cool and collected in front of new contacts and the Redshifts. Odette hangs her head a bit, and she suddenly starts wondering how convenient being able to just turn invisible would be right at that moment. Thankfully, Moses has plenty more information to give the group between both her own intentions and her apparent willingness to work with the Watch, and Odette's mood.. Doesn't quite recover fully, but she's at least back to neutral by the time case number nine is laid out. "Like the mermaids?" Odette murmurs, looking over at White Dwarf before realizing the medic is speaking of something else entirely. "Or... No, the mermaid thing was before all this Distortion stuff popped up, I think. N-never mind." So smooth. Still, all that just about confirms the conclusion Odette had come to earlier, and the EMT takes another large sip of water to clear out the cookie remnants from her throat before finally nodding. "I'm in. Understanding and solving these types of things in that kind of way... I-it does sound better than the alternatives. Way better than trying to 'fix' things where too many people still get hurt, anyway." Odette places her cup on the table, then raises it right back up to check for a coaster. "And if we can find someone responsible for making these things happen... I don't know if we can make it all right, but we can stop it from continuing. I-I hope."
Father Berislav	Case number nine. Berislav jots a few more notes down. -an outcome where someone is happier Do you know a nurturer like that? "Several in the City alone," says Berislav with a nod, looking up from his notes. "And I did get my start there, myself." "You'll have the opportunity to learn from a few more within the Watch, though we're shorter there than I'd like to be. Another benefit you'll have, though, is being able to call upon one of us when your ties to your Association would make moving in a certain direction... inadvisable, for you." "We're not monolithic," he advises. "Not all of us share the same values or are driven by the same things. So you may not see the same faces on the same cases. But I think you'll agree the benefits of working alongside us outweigh the disadvantages, if 'outcomes where people are happier' are what you're after." I'm curious what payment it is, that you say won't be given. "What, indeed?" He smiles a small, conspiratorial smile at Red Dwarf. Death to the Egregore. "He has a manifesto," Berislav advises Moses. "It's readily available if you're interested! In short, the only thing he'd have as payment from the City is the immediate cessation of its war upon its people, and the swift deliverance of justice to the princes who shed their blood with invisible swords and profit from their suffering. Every one of them--all the way up--and through--the City's deliberately serpentine power structure." ...No, everything's not alright. We should probably talk some... later. "Thank you for confiding in me, Hibiki. Most of my time is spent here, these days--the City is my primary focus at present. You should stop by and see how things are coming along--we can have that chat then."
Distortion Dets.	'And I control where they go, and how they move...It's easiest if they float behind me, but I can throw them around if I need to.' "Woah, you manage all the little pieces, butm some ways are harder? From weight? From focus? How do you control it? It must be old old tech..." Ezra mouths 'Divinity' after Tamiel says it, clearly not understanding the implication that this all is magic. "Thanks for showing me! I can't keep the piece, can I?" 'Not at all. Ah. The.. Um. O-opposite, even. The..' "Ope, huh? What's the opposite of a problem? Like a- ooh, I see." She covers up a quiet snicker with her hand, and steps back away from Odette. What does she see? What on Earth does Ezra see? 'She seemed... very human, otherwise. Maybe only 'to live' was her desire, and only 'to die' was her stress and vulnerability.' "Mm. Is she someone you have remained in communications with? I'd like to talk to her, if so. That's interesting. I hadn't heard of her- I don't hear much from the south, though. 'To live' is a strong want, ma'am. I can't see a reason to expect it couldn't be enough. I truly would like to talk to this individual." Ezra scrawls down notes from her flanking perspective as the two chat- this numbers amongst the noteworthy things she's penning down! 'Death to the Egregore.' 'He has a manifesto,' "A manifesto," she repeats- in English, a notable shift, rolling the word's texture in her mouth as she does. Swapping back, "I'd like it if you sent a copy. I'm curious to know my soon-to-be collaborators more completely." "If bombs and weapons interest you, however, I'm afraid those are surprisingly common to trade in. Ezra? Do you still have those magazines you keep spending your money on?" "Huh? Wait, Detective, what ma... Oh, the Workshop catalogs? For shopping?" Ezra blinks. "Yep! Yep yep, I've got those tucked away somewhere! Though, the new issues are delayed from some of my faves..." 'Another benefit you'll have, though, is being able to call upon one of us when your ties to your Association would make moving in a certain direction... inadvisable, for you.' Moses pinches the bridge of her nose, thinking on the Father's words. "I know how my superior at the Seven operates, Mister Berislav. I have him under control, and nothing should get in the way of this. I've known him a long, long time." Still, she seems upset about something. '...can see why you want all the help you can get. Working on these cases.' 'I'd like it, if we could help 'solve' more of these cases in better ways with you.' Moses closes up the file folders she has splayed around her place at the table, patting the top for emphasis. "I have yet to hear the proper details from the client, but a job was posted that I believe to be another 'distortion' event. My plan," She exhales, smoke through closed teeth, eddying around in the air, "Is to bring you in, to investigate and resolve the job. You'll get familiar, and I could use the extra hands. I won't be able to split the payment this many ways, however. Payment in favors will have to do. I'll send word when I have word, I'll make sure Ezra is staying in contact enough with your... communication lines." The radios! "You're happy to do that, correct, Ezra?" "Yessss~!"
Distortion Dets.	As if out of the blue, heralded by a chattery buzz, electrical, the lights of the building flit and flicker back active, illuminating. up the dim, smoky conference room from overhead in a harsh cast. Moses looks up, and then around at the candles she'd lit, a few inches lower than they had been before, but it's Ezra who speaks up first. "Power's back! I can turn the toaster oven on! Does anyone want toasted sandwiches?" Ezra's stomach grumbles. "Would those be quick enough to make, Ezra? Our guests might be busy-" "I can make four at a time if I double stack the racks! It'll be a jiffy!" Moses relents., with a small shoulder shrug. Rolling her head the direction Ezra's already shuffling off to, "Do try her cooking. It seems to make her quite happy."
Odette Raskins	"Like a- ooh, I see." "Wh.. N-no you don't! There's... Nothing to see!" ODette blurts out a little too quickly, putting her head down on the table and REALLY wishing she could become invisible right now. Why, though? It's not like there's anything to see, or so she keeps telling herself in her head. Right? She'll have to think that over a little more. "Ezra? Do you still have those magazines you keep spending your money on?" "Huh? Wait, Detective, what ma... Oh, the Workshop catalogs?" Odette cautiously picks her head back up off the table. "Do you mind if I.. Um. Take a look at those later, too? I've been meaning to get some ideas for Trideag things." She explains, then pauses as she realizes that might not have beent he best idea. Then again... She looks over at Moses and Ezra again, then at everyone else present. With everyone here being Watch, it should actually be fine, right? Right.