Scene Listing || Scene Schedule || Scene Schedule RSS
Owner Pose
Lilian Rook     A long time ago . . .

    Let it not be said that Lilian Rook is too much of a bougie freak to handle setting up a business that's supposed to run in the Backstreets. Instead let it be said that she is a bougie faildaughter who doesn't quite grasp the point of a business and who kind of sucks shit at gentrification. Yes, she tried. It's nearly cute that she even bothered.

    Matilda gets to arrive through the private Warpgate that's since been upgraded, though, so no worries!

    Central HQ is busier than it ever was; not just due to the slow expansion of the organization, but due to the explosive geometric increase in workload ever since the fall of L Corp as well. Though the outdoor streets on the ground floor are only significantly visible from certain angles around the main lobby, it's clear that they appear to be somewhat over-capacity, especially further away from the headquarters building; which makes the previously gratuitous amount of space prepared into apartments, commons, and a community park, look like foresight rather than being out of touch with reality.

    The number of people outside is highly elevated. Though the power demands have since been stabilized by underhanded deals with the last remaining dealer of enkephalin, the times as they are, unprecedented for most, seem to magnetically draw people people into groups, outdoors, attracted to the rare sight of green, or the rarer sight of peaceful cooperation, as the process of converting refugee encampments to 'integrated citizens' is halfway through. The number of people inside is only elevated by the increase in traffic; the number of people making use of the ground floor visitor businesses (who are now over the moon for their foresight), the doubled number of in-house Fixers, and the sight of associate Fixers from allied organizations; namely Liu and Zwei, for the most part, but with not-infrequent visits from Deyvat couriers.

    Considering the slice of the backstreets that was originally carved out, even if it's been dramatically expanded, both atmosphere and 'design philosophy' are totally different from the Foundation. The wide-open spaces that are built for decoration and travel now hum with the ambient chatter of a successful restaurant, and the places built for visitors to converge are operating at borderline capacity. People come and go from the stragely high number of winding, parallel, crossing, and 'useless' corridors and staircases at a rate that speaks to entirely different senses of how to navigate the building.

    'Guard stations' largely amount to checkpoints before entering Associate-only portions of the building. Armed personnel are almost incidental; they work here, and many of them live here; no one pays any mind to robotic arms or heads, much less swords or guns, within the food court or streetside lounge. Posh black tiles, charcoal vinyl, or wine red carpet, subtly denote what security level you're within the perimeter of. The use of indoor plants is not-subtly Sapient Heuristics-like. All of it combines to make emptier spaces feel warmer, and crowded spaces feel cozier.

    . . . . . . . .
Lilian Rook     Matilda is shown to a locker room (deceptive; the walls must be eight feet thick between it and the corridor) to store any effects she'd prefer to, keycarded and scanned past a back corridor across from a security office, and directed to navigate an oddly shaped hallway that seems to encircle much of the inner building without leading out; only to a ring of vendors and cafés that have window views, which eventually allows her to escape into a lobby with four receptionists working a central desk at once, and the four central lifts that are the only thing not seeing increased use.

    The staff showing her around are easily identified by simply wearing a somewhat more dressed down version of the Trídéag uniform, most easily identified by wearing a red tie-or-ribbon instead of a black one, if you aren't capable of discerning an armoured garment from a regular one at a glance. Only the Fixers themselves are mixed between still wearing the short summer coat and the long winter one, given the City's unsteady outdoor climate and the liminal season, and at that point they're more easily identified by having taken it off and sat down for a break in a dress shirt.

    Lilian waits in the only particularly clear space in the front lobby, or perhaps it's clear because she's waiting there; a well-known-by-now sign that she's expecting someone. Her usual spot is between the two pairs of lifts, in the small area secluded by indoor juvenile trees and the lobby water feature, just in front of the up-lit patch of wall on which is mounted the thirteen company tenets. Perhaps unsurprisingly, she is easily recognizable by having the most heavily modified uniform, if one weren't already catching the glare fx from the spot lighting on her hairpin. Momentarily distracted, she appears to be lost in thought staring at tenet twelve.
        12: Confuse no law for virtue, and no unlawfulness for evil. The City's responsibility is to the many; your responsibility is to those it does not choose.
Angela Ceri Wood is part of the contingent leading Matilda. She is a woman with long pink hair and red eyes with a rapier at her side. She's in the Trideag summer coat--she gets hot easily, in her words--but she has one of the new Stigma Workshop inspired blades that Lilian had commissioned for the Association on her back. It's important for her to show equipment solidarity with the rest of the Association.

"We're always a little shorthanded." Ceri says. "There is just so much to do. Fortunately the Zwei and Liu Associations have been lending a hand. We'll make sure you get a pamphlet with all the basic information on the City before you leave today so you don't have to ask about every little new detail that might come up."

Other Trideag members have their attention drawn Matilda's way--she's new and if a visit was specially scheduled for her that doesn't necessarily mean she's a big deal, but she's definitely someone to keep an eye on. Even amongst the various Association Fixers, there are little groups based on whom each Fixer has grown accustomed to working with and listening to and generally vibing well with.

"The Fall of L Corp has made our work here all the more important. For many, this is the only true safe haven in the District. But much like your Foundation, our resources--and more importantly, our space--are not unlimited. But we run a tight ship. I heard good things about your work ethic and that's a great start."

As they make their way into the courtyard where Lilian is waiting, Ceri stops at attention.

"Director Lilian." Ceri says. It's uncommon for people in the Backstreets to have last names and they certainly put little stock in it. They know her as Lilian before they know her as Lilian Rook here. "Matilda has arrived."

A woman with a scarred face and throat with shock white hair and dull grey eyes is training with what looks like to be a younger girl, nearing her teen years, in swordplay. They're mostly focusing on forms and the taller woman is not really pushing her physically, focusing on technique. The adult is distracted by Matilda's approach which lets the girl get a strike on her wrist with her practice sword.

"Gotcha!!!" Cheer says. "You're dead!"

"Ahh. Oh no. You got me. I'm dying. I am dead." Solace says. "Good job though this isn't a spar so no points for killing me."

"Ugggh no fair!"

A short woman (Knifty) with bright red hair who is also wearing a maid dress and is carrying a large plunger over her shoulder also glances over and smiles a biiiiig smile at her, showing off nearly all her teeth in the process. "eheheh...." She giggles. "Back to cleaning..." And she continues on her way.
Sarracenia      It has been a while since Sarracenia was on Trideag grounds for more than a few minutes. Her assignment to Liu liason and the subsequent time in Liu bootcamp has kept her pretty busy. And as a result of that bootcamp her hair looks a bit less shiny than usual and she has actual noticeable circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. She even looks a bit thinner than usual, which is saying something since she is toned and slender even under normal circumstances.

     She too wears a slightly modified version of the Trideag uniform, which mostly just entails the uniform if it were a princess dress. Form fitting around the upper body, a billowing skirt around the lower. She even has on a fashionable eyepatch that matches the black and gold of the association.

     As she often does when she isn't sure of the answer to whether she is currently allowed to be somewhere, Sarra has taken a bit of action on her own. Sarra has added herself to the party escorting Matilda around. Assuming she isn't thrown out or told to attend to something else, the princess follows after Ceri unusually quietly. She did at least greet Matilda with a proper curtsey when she arrived, but other than that has not said much.

     When they arrive in the courtyard Sarra giggles softly at Cheer and Solace and offers a small wave to Knifty. But, when Ceri addresses Lilian, Sarra stands at attention with her hands held politely behind her back.
Foundation Scions     Matilda is wide-eyed excited, setting foot on the other side of the final warpgate of her trip. That's how she's faced every one of the few (if greatly varied) other worlds that she's gotten the chance to visit- and while not a desolate mountain riverscape with alien traces where lichen ought to stand, or an extravagant floating castle-island-obstacle course, such a blisteringly modern site that isn't the Foundation's grounds, has its own sort of exciting novelty. Modern (if strange, to her) shops and restaurants, operating on foreign-to-her currency, as well as even credit cards? How many years has it been since she's seen those used? Four..? Wow!

    Matilda Bouanich travels light- she's come in her monitor assistant uniform, grey-on-grey-on-red, her tie in neat order, and the distinctive Z-shaped brooch she pinned to it to gleam nearly as bright as her Foundation-standard badge. As such, the only thing she properly bothers to stow away in the locker room when prompted, is a small satchel she carries of useful items and ritual components- pencils, notepaper, wood matches and scented candles. Putting away her orbuculum, however- that makes her hesitate for a good fourty-five seconds, mentally debating back and forth whether it would be worth the cumbersome task of hauling a quartz bowling ball around with her, for the purpose of any impromptu magical proceedings. She decides against it- and feels silly for having brought it in the first place, but isn't it best to always be prepared?

    'We'll make sure you get a pamphlet,'

    "Oh! I do love pamphlets. What a remarkable level of preparedness there is in having such a thing already printed... But are most of those here not already familiar with this world..?" Matilda works for an organization that *has* to brief people on the peculiarities of their own world- planning such just for Elites doesn't parse to her, yet! "Those other groups are much like these, then..? So ornate... Such clearly could not compare to the St. Pavlov Foundation, but, that is still an astonishing level of organization!"

    As Ceri shepherds Matilda around, it's clear that she's drinking up the attention of being guided on a tour like this- not just in some conglomerated group and barely present.

'I heard good things about your work ethic and that's a great start.'

    Matilda crosses her arms in front of her chest, even while walking, in a proud little stance. "O-of course you have! That's because the diligent Matilda Bouanich is, most assuredly, second to none in such a capacity! Was it Ms. Rook who said so..?" Big eyes stare at Ceri, excitedly fishing for a bit more talk of something positive about herself.

    In the Matilda stops short, and waves, arm high over her head, once she spots the Dame Commander- even as Ceri keeps going to more directly let the director know. "Ms. Lilian Rook! Hello! This is a most fantastic organizational campus-"

    -And with Knifty's cameo, Matilda's words trail off, a confused sort of smile crossing her face. "Une femme de chambre chic..? Erm- hello!" Matilda shifts her wave to Knifty, uncertain what evoked the smile-and-laughing. Then, more general, "Is the cultural presence of the 'French maid' such a universal thing..? Comme c'est fantastique... I never knew..."
Timespace Riders      The would-be Demon King of Time and his retainer are among the Fixers present today. Between the two, Woz insists on the full uniform (including the winter coat) even when on his break, and Sougo is among those who sheds his short summer jacket to wear it around his waist. The two of them are sparring, too, practicing with their Rider weapons, notably outside of their armor and avoiding full contact or flashy (and destructive) special moves.

    "Hi, Director!" Sougo's usual merry, practically full-bodied wave is absent, owing to the fact that he's got a sword in either hand. One silver-and-gold, one black-and-silver, they look like a swordsmith was inspired by the hands of a clock--the larger and more substantial black-and-silver one has an unusual, asymmetrically placed crossguard that looks like the faceplate of a helmet.

    Sougo deflects a thrust from Woz's green-bladed spear with his smaller sword, trapping it behind the head with a flick of his wrist and swinging with the flat of the longer one. Woz goes from on the offense to on the defense, backing away and maintaining head movement to bob backwards just long enough for Sougo to put both of the swords together, forming a greatsword to equalize the disparity in reach.

    He's halfway through a broad, sweeping swing to corral Woz towards a wall when he notices--"Oh! You brought a visitor! Hi! I'm SouGOOOH!"

    The haft of Woz's spear hooks under Sougo's leg, pulling him off his feet and laying him out flat on his back. The retainer stands over him, spear pointed and pressed not a litle purposefully against Sougo's collarbone. "Never take your eye off of your opponent, sire," says Woz, with pursed lips that gradually melt away into a fond smile. He lifts the spear and extends a hand in its place, which Sougo takes to get back up.

    "Director," says Woz, only after the session is formally over, with a little bow at the waist towards Lilian. "And an honored guest. Hail and welcome. I am Woz, retainer to his majesty Sougo Tokiwa. Director, shall I excuse myself to prepare a small sampling of hors d'oeuvres and perhaps a beverage for our guest," he says, then repeating her name, "The great Matilda Bouanich?"

    "Um, hi! Nice to meet you," Sougo beams.
Lilian Rook     Being pulled away from rumination by the existence of more than two or three other people, even before they say anything, causes Lilian the process the last fifteen seconds of what she'd passively seen and heard all at once. And thus, patiently, with amusement, she says, "An opponent isn't going to be trying to teach you forms in a combat situation, Cheer. Being able to hit someone doing that isn't a useful skill in real life." And--

    'Is the cultural presence of the 'french maid' such a universal thing..? Comme c'est fantastique... I never knew...'

    "I don't know about universal, but strangely, it seems to have currency in the City here." Lilian says, stiff and slightly pale. "Though for some reason, they use the unisex 'butler' to refer to them, and the preference for rich families is to buy out the contracts of skilled Fixers ready to retire, so that they can serve as bodyguards as well." She smiles, slightly forced. "That's Knifty. She's under a voluntary tutorship from a 'butler' named Nellie, from Wuthering Heights. She's new at it, so please excuse her."

    §If it gets back to Mesmer that I'm some kind of maid pervert I might actually fucking kill myself. If it gets back to the Foundation I might have to kill her.§

    'Oh! You brought a visitor! Hi! I'm SouGOOOH!'

    "However, it is likely that your opponent may take advantage of you while distracted in combat." Lilian says, to ~~move along hastily~~ set a good example for the children. "It's less about focus, and more about being able to read their intent before you go doing anything. That's a skill that'll serve you minutes before anyone draws a weapon as well." She takes the opportunity to (performatively) clear her throat, nod to Ceri, and with a "Thank you for seeing to our visitor. I've personally cleared some request forms, so you have thirty minutes.", she turns to Matilda.

    "Your praise is noted and warranted, Miss Bouanich. The Trídéag Association is the first new Fixer Association to be formed in practically living memory, and so I felt it was necessary to be especially certain that no one be underwhelmed by occasion." Lilian says, gesturing loosely towards the founding date under the plaque, and then starting to walk, motioning with her head to follow. "Fixers, a term of the City, are of course those fearless individuals who commit themselves to protecting the most vulnerable members of the City's least regulated areas. Employed by various Offices, organized and given work under the auspices of the relevant Association, though the attitudes of Fixers towards their work may vary tremendously as one travels, all of them fundamentally live to serve the members of the public who go unserved by the powers that be."

    Keycarding the elevator, Lilian waits until people are actually inside, and the doors are closed, to continue. "That is to say, so many people are left to rot in the City that there can exist an entire career ecosystem for helping them, and so often is it the case that they're supported too little for the risk, that organizations like the Associations are necessary to keep even well-intentioned Fixers from descending into mercenary savagery. Please discard any illusions at the door, Miss Bouanich; the Trídéag Association is one of but thirteen groups that exist to give people any reason to help one another, rather than try to scramble up the ladder of a criminal Syndicate."
Lilian Rook     Her finger hovers over the button labelled B2, but after a moment, she decides that it'd be corny and evil to try and shock Matilda off the idea early. She mutters "We'll skip the lounge . . ." to herself as she overshoots F2 and dials in F3. "Trídéag, specifically, was formed as a response to the Multiverse's Unification. You could more cynically say that it was formed as a response to the Head-- the government, of sorts-- finally becoming aware of exceptional individuals who had the ability to distort the balance of power. I was solicited directly, through contact with the Hana Association, to spearhead such a project, and I accepted." Lilian sets her jaw for a second. "For various reasons."

    Since she isn't trying to advertise to Matilda, the elevator opens directly before sleek wall signage that says '^ MAINTENANCE < REQUISITION v ISSUE > COMPUTER LAB' and a short crossroad between-area, as if the chairs are really necessary to wait for an elevator. Intending to get Matilda way from the cute shops and parkside lounges, Lilian intentionally chooses the doors for 'Maintenance' first, pushing them open to lead the group into an area Ceri and Solace will be intimately familiar with, but Elites seldom visit.

    "Associations come with what you could inaccurately call a 'specialty', and sensibly call a 'purview of authority'. Zwei 'specializes' in public safety, but what that really means is that they alone have the organizational backbone to use Fixers as a surrogate police force and civil militia. Deyvat likewise 'specializes' in courier jobs, but the reality is that they've used Fixers to fill in for a dire lack of secure delivery and supply lines in the lawless parts of the City, and so they transport everything from medical supplies to secret information. Trídéag, if you're following me, 'specializes' in Multiversal matters." Lilian stops to take a breath, and straightens her posture a micro-degree further.

    "Which means that our role is to use Fixers to prevent the Multiverse from causing anarchy and social collapse. My interpretation of that role includes 'by making them into Fixers themselves', which attracts no shortage of business for reasons anywhere from being unable to trust the local authorities to having a job that could only be accomplished by unusual 'outside' powers."

    The maintenance wing is small for a military base and very large for a police agency. The red carpet gives way to charcoal vinyl and gunmetal grey, and the space brightens up under high-grade LEDs and walls that have ostensibly been kept reasonably bare and white to make accumulated dirt and contaminants obvious for cleaning.

    One wall is entirely sectioned off with a counter and glass dividers that are more or less a formality, with only red-tie staff working near the wall-to-wall spread of tools, parts, ammunition, and packaged goods, broken up in the middle with the corridor bend that goes straight into 'requisition'; which probably explains the existence of things like energy drinks and cigarettes bleeding over between counters. Another is mostly taken up by stationary machining tables and computer diagnostic stations, while another corner has become an unofficial mini-lounge where various Fixers are waiting for their favourite to show up or a short job to be completed over a wheeled-up television and cards.

    The main floor is entirely given over to convention-style free standing isles, each one crewed by someone in Workshop gear, a civilian apprentice assistant, and two in-house support staff. The turntables, examination stands, toolkits, counters, charging stations, and sundry, appear to be largely similar at each station, but regulars have made alterations to most that other staff simply add their own to rather than resetting back to normal.
Lilian Rook     The purpose of it is all screamingly obvious. This is where Matilda can be shown the highest density of people 'between jobs' in this sense. Batteries being recharged along wall racks. Firearms being taken apart and overhauled. Blood and ash being scoured off swords and laundered out of uniforms. High-tech sewing jobs are being done on reinforced coats and plate carriers are being wholly replaced. It's here she can see a Fixer hand over something that was just attached to their chest over their dress shirt which looks as if it's been run through a lawnmower, and sneak a very strong drink from a mechanic who is examining the edge of their ID-etched blade under a scope.

    "It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that this makes Trídéag a definitively high-risk Association to be a part of. It's certainly funded far better than most others," says Lilian, who is doing half the funding herself "but the reality is that if a client believes there is a 'Multiversal threat', it's very likely to be a strange, serious, or dangerous unsolved issue, and doubly so if they prefer our praxis of using small and discrete groups of highly trained and highly armed individuals."

    Lilian stares at one station where a Fixer is getting her smartphone pulled apart and repaired, makes a bit of a face, and then wonders why she'd only thought it'd be blood and gore today. Look over there. That's a pair of glasses. And that's a precios heirloom analogue watch. Maintenance means maintenance.

    "It's not the sort of work that I feel comfortable throwing numbers at, nor do I appreciate wasting assets 'sifting the wheat from the chaff', so the requirements to even work as support staff here are exceptionally high, much less the training to be allowed to do field work as a Fixer."
Angela ''But are most of those here not already familiar with this world..?''

"There's a rule from The Hana Association that we need to have a number of locals along with the Elites from other worlds. No doubt so that we don't have a wholly foreign army building up within The City--but also, I imagine, so that my fellow Feathers can educate about details of The City as they come up. While most of our Elites joined in the initial signups--others, like Sougo and Woz there, signed up later. And there's always the possibility of people from newly unified worlds joining up--so we put some effort into preparing for such an eventuality. From what I've heard of the Foundation, the Hana Association fulfills a similar societla role. They register Fixers, declare threats, generally keep the City in one piece."

''Was it Ms. Rook who said so..?''

"I listen to the band from time to time. It's my job to make sure everything runs smoothly when the Director is out and, of course, to clarify any local matters and handle certain particulars in the paperwork..." Ceri breathes in, breathes out.

Matilda asks about Knifty and Ceri seems to know french though she doesn't respond in it. "Ah, Knifty is training to be a 'Butler' class Fixer which is a special type of Fixer that act as personal retainers to wealthy or powerful families. One of the old money houses sent their Chief Butler here to help train her. Few months ago. Feels like ages already. She's had a rough life so she takes a bit of extra care."

HONESTLY while Ceri is CERTAIN that is true she doesn't actually know anything about Knifty's life besides that she was one of the 'Rats'. The 'clearly has been through some SHIT' is just from observation of her general demeanor and behavior.

Ceri checks her phone and, after estimating the time for the tour--which she's not going to leave early just because Lilian has taken some of her workload--sets a timer on it before pocketing it again.

''An opponent isn't going to be trying to teach you forms in a combat situation, Cheer.''

"Oh poo." Cheer complains though she's brightened by the idea that at least the ability to see when an opponent is distracted might still be useful.

"Let's join..hhh.. the tour." Solace says. Through treatment, her throat doesn't cause her as much problems as it used to but she still is not one for chatting a ton. "Knowing the new ... member of the community helps."

"I understand, mom..." Cheer, uncomfortable by sincerity, wiggles a little and sneaks a glance Matilda's way, pulling away from Solace to follow her and also stare up at her with wide eyes.

Cheer is a bit excited, actually, to get to see the parts of the Trideag building that she doesn't usually get to see. Solace seems to see this as good a time as any to show her the grittier and, more importantly, the more boring aspects of the City.
Angela Mei and Sasha are down in the maintenance wing, the former working on ammunition, and the latter tirelessly working on a new courier case to replace the one she had to return to Deyvat. There's some proprietary tech in Deyvat cases so she's having to work with an offmodel and all around crummier version of what she's used to. Since this case is also her weapon, that means it requires a lot of maintenance. She's already washed the blood off already. Mei is working with the ammunition--as the Lei representative, she knows Stigma tech better than anyone of the locals present. Sasha immediately stiffens at attention upon sensing Lilian. Mei takes a little longer since she's not about to do that while she's in the middle of working on an ignition cartridge--but once she finishes it, she moves to perfect military attention, not speaking unless given permission to speak, though as one of the more mischevious Liu members, she does this while smiling.

"Not all our work involves multiversal threats, we do all the same day to day work any other Fixer organization would do to keep the gears of the City turning." Ceri adds.
Sarracenia      Usually going unnoticed irks Sarracenia. And while this time is no different, it does at least confirm for sure that she is now allowed to participate in Trideag activities. That relaxes her some. As does seeing the sparing going on in the courtyard. Sougo and Woz being here is a nice surprise. "King Sougo! And Woz! What a pleasant surprise!" Sarra says with a smile. "Did I miss your induction into Trideag? My apologies."

     As they enter the elevator, Sarra adds for Matilda's benefit. "I myself am a Fixer of this organization. It was a chance to truly help the people of this City, and as an aspiring heroine how could I pass up such an opportunity? And would you believe one of my first duties...was helping to plant a rooftop garden? It was oddly satisfying, helping put something in place that would be both useful and lovely. Something that would help inspire hope in a city where it is in dreadfully short supply. Another time, a courier of ours was attacked. I along with a few others was tasked with bringing them in. But, instead of punishing them we invited them to join Trideag. This got them out of the terrible living situation which prompted the attack and allowed them to work on something they could be proud of. They are still with Trideag even now!"

     Sarra then gets quiet again and just follows along pleasantly as Lilian goes through the more involved explanations...which Sarra wouldn't have been able to give even if she had been asked. As they enter the Maintenance area, Sarra's eyes are a bit wide. She did not even realize they had such a place inside of Trideag.

     '...much less the training to be allowed to do field work as a Fixer.'

     Sarra puffs up for just a moment since that means she passed those exceptionally high requirements. But, she deflates quickly enough as the reality of what happened with Black Silence and her suspension bring her back down to earth. "...yes...it can be quite dangerous going into a situation without proper preparations."
Timespace Riders      Sougo and Woz dispense with their weapons. The greatsword and the spear are respectively consumed by a pink column of energy and digital green motion lines. Woz (whose uniform bears the addition of a certain grey scarf) arches a brow behind Matilda in the elevator. Sougo opens his mouth to question why the really cute stuff is getting skipped, then closes it without posing the question. Maybe it's a first impressions thing? That must be what it is.

    Sougo waves and smiles brightly at a few of *his* favorites as he passes by the unofficial lounge.

    They register Fixers, declare threats, generally keep the City in one piece.

    "An unenviable task, given the Director's earlier comment about the sheer number of unserved people in the City. To keep it in one piece benefits those people, ultimately, but it also involves, at times, the preservation of forces which decidedly do not benefit them. I do wonder how many of those people view the Hana Association as complicit."

     "Some might say that ours is an unenviable task, as well. Not only for the danger which the Director mentions. 'The Multiverse' is our specialty," Woz purses his lips, and adds, "This, of course, includes Elites, regardless of whether they are part of the Association or not."

Did I miss your induction into Trideag? My apologies.

    "Mm... I think we joined right before the Liu... came to visit," Sougo eventually, diplomatically decides on, after a pause. "Don't worry about it!" He smiles.

     Inspired by Ceri and Lilian to share his own thoughts on the Association: "I think... I'm really proud of even the little things I've managed to do, and it's hard to see the Director's hard work and not be inspired. But you have to have the right mindset for it, too. Doing good in a place like the City means you have to be ready for a marathon, instead of a sprint. And sometimes, that's really hard, because, you know... the City, as, like, an entity, wants it to be. But! That's a whole other conversation, I think."
Foundation Scions 'That's Knifty.'

    "You're right, that *is* nifty- er, oh! Pardonne-moi, you mean her *name* is Knifty..? I suppose it is most sensible for bodyguards to take the guise of domestic servants! Hm-mm!" Matilda *probably* isn't inclined to blabber about this to Mesmer Jr., and *hopefully* isn't inclined to assume anything uncouth about it- hopefully.

'She's had a rough life so she takes a bit of extra care.'

    Matilda makes a hushed little air-through-teeth noise. "I see... I, erm, must wish her the best in her... butler-ry? No, that cannot be a word..."

'Oh! You brought a visitor! Hi! I'm SouGOOOH!'
'Never take your eye off of your opponent, sire,'

    Matilda covers her mouth to politely hide the bright giggle Sougo's fall deserves. "You know, he's right... that was quite silly of you!" Then, to Woz, "Ah-hem! I do make your acquaintance most politely! What is your name- er, drinks and hors d'oeuvres? I had no idea such would be offered... erm, I ate before I came! But if you so insist, well... ahem, I suppose it *has* been quite the time since I've had proper French cuisine..."

    'Fixers, a term of the City, are of course those fearless individuals who commit themselves to protecting the most vulnerable members of the City's least regulated areas.'

    Matilda nods, side-tied ponytail bobbing with the motion. "I had thought on overhear and in my studies of accessed files, that such a thing is, perhaps somewhat, analogous to the St. Pavlov Foundation's own agents, yes? Brave, noble, and self-sacrificing for the good of others... the ethos and pathos of such a job is most exactly the type the graduates of the SPDM are prepared for!" The sales pitch never ends. She piles into the elevator alongside, excitedly staring out the glass at the expanse of the lobby as it ascends.

    "So, it is through you, and this Association, that off-worlders must work in this world, just as it is through the Foundation (And the FDMO) in mine-? I see!" Not quite but she's got... part of the spirit, at least! Slightly sympathetic, "To warrant all of 'this', it must be a tremendous responsibility..."

    Shops and plant-filled lobbies may make Matilda excitedly gaze around, but cold white-blue lighting and functionality feels ten times more 'professional'- that's even better! Matilda may not yet be a field investigator, but surely a higher-access clearance and the authorization to go on field missions means more of a chance for her to wander around chambers like these, with equipment to be dealt with and issued, or other similarly-tasked professional actors of a large organization's will around... A lounge clearly would not make her more excited. Not that the evidence of the Fixer's engagements in combat don't, still, set a little spark of worry alight in her.
Foundation Scions     "Ms. Rook? The tie-color of employees here, that is a signifier of distinct offices, yes? I noticed some pattern to it, but it was not explained- Ah! Salut," Cheer approaching Matilda makes her turn focus and offer the kid a little smile- only leaning down a little bit to give her a wave. "What's your name? You are a trainee to be one of these 'Fixers', yes?" It's normal for kids Cheer's age to be training to be soldiers! That's normal.

'It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that this makes Trídéag a definitively high-risk Association to be a part of.'
'...So the requirements to even work as support staff here are exceptionally high, much less the training to be allowed to do field work as a Fixer.'

    Uh-oh, Matilda! That's the cue that you have to prove or argue your worthiness for something! In a softer tone than her boastful usual, "Ms. Rook, I must acknowledge your communication of the risk and the required aptitude, but the dangers of responsibilities such as these... most every member of the Foundation, especially those of the SPDM, and even most especially its field workers, such a thing is already assumed. You- you *will* most certainly find I am up to the task as any one could be. The peace of Mankind is to be upheld by diligence and martyrdom- surely such a principle is coherent, here. It is well-impressed."

    Maybe Matilda actually did go to the same school as Sonetto. "Ah-hem. The uniforms, they are quite striking. To imagine walking down the halls of such a place as the Foundation in one..." Okay, the daydreaming's back. She staved it off for about fifty seconds.
Lilian Rook     'You're right, that *is* nifty- er, oh!'

    §Please god no.§

    'I suppose it is most sensible for bodyguards to take the guise of domestic servants! Hm-mm!'

    Lilian subtly breathes a sigh of relief.

    'I suppose it *has* been quite the time since I've had proper French cuisine...'

    "Really?" Lilian blinks. That distracts her for a moment. "I'd have thought the Foundation would have a somewhat multinational menu, given its . . . never mind." she shakes her head.

    'Brave, noble, and self-sacrificing for the good of others...'

    Lilian looks slowly to Sarracenia, then looks away, maintaining her poker face. "I'd hesitate to draw a comparison so early, seeing as there is little information currently available to me about the Saint Pavlov Foundation's activities, but I'd venture to say that it isn't inaccurate. Not all Fixers are nobly motivated; many, especially in small-time offices, or independent Fixers, are simply forced into the line of work to survive. But I've found that if you offer people much more than just survival, they'll often take it upon themselves to begin thinking about how to make a difference as well."

    . . . . . . . .

    Walking through maintenance, what Lilian says to Mei and Sasha is "At ease." but the fact that she smiles at them sort of undermines it. "Ceri is correct, of course. I've taken on no shortage of Fixers who are still climbing their way up the ranks, or still new to the work, and Fixers get no end of requests for little things, too. Out in the Backstreets, you're often better off paying an Office some pocket change to get something done than try asking your neighbour for a favour." she says. "Which presents another side to the work; until you reach Grade Seven, Fixers spend plenty of time performing unglamorous community tasks as well." Yeah. That'll scare her.

    §I guess it's already public record that I like gardening. Sigh. Nothing to do there.§

    Lilian looks back at Sougo when it seems plausible that he might go on a Communist Rant(tm) at Matilda, but she backs off quickly when he's just being normal.

    'To warrant all of 'this''

    "Woz is correct as well, of course. I strongly suspect I was chosen not just for having the personal ability to suppress any Elite interference, but because I would interpret their intent correctly; that the choices were for Elites to lagely police themselves, or for the Head to have to outlaw Multiversals entirely. Regardless of what they and I think of each other, all of us understand that to advocate for those who need it, we're also required to curate our own."

    She stops, just for a second, unable to help a sigh, and "Not that I'd consider many Elites 'my own'. But it's about curtailing the activities of those who are only interested in their selfish aims at everyone else's expense. We're never going to be able to change anything if outsiders become feared and despised, nor if the Head becomes obsessed with ousting us."

    Lilian even maintains her poker face through that liberalist line as well. It wasn't that long ago she unconditionally believed it. It's not as if she's about to shout out loud the other thing that both she and the Head know.

    'Ms. Rook? The tie-color of employees here, that is a signifier of distinct offices, yes?'

    "Mm? You're surprisingly perceptive. Or should I say detail-oriented?" Lilian thinks out loud, engaged in her bad habit of not being very restrained with praise if it seems like a fact. "A red tie denotes support staff. Various labourers, administrators, and experts, who are employed full-time and report only to the Association. That contrasts outside hires, even trusted ones, and those in black ties, who are the Fixers that actually accept contracts."
Lilian Rook     'Ms. Rook, I must acknowledge your communication of the risk and the required aptitude, but the dangers of responsibilities such as these...'

    §Oh dammit. That just got her excited. I should pick something else to--§

    'The peace of Mankind is to be upheld by diligence and martyrdom-'

    Lilian looks back out of the corner of her eye.

    §No. Save it.§

    'Ah-hem. The uniforms, they are quite striking.'

    Lilian barely staves off 'I'm glad you like them!' and says "We issue a handful of variants, and allow some minor personalization besides." instead. Her own obviously being the strongest case, though it's still far from how extra some of the other Association directors get. "Well, if that's the case, let's see . . ." Lilian tilts her head, and looks up into a non-existent corner. "Second floor is the canteen, kitchen, lounge. The fourth is the Workshop. Fifth is commons and rec, seven through nine are dorms, ten is servers, cold storage, intelligence, R&D, eleven and twelve are training facilities . . ."

    §How do I put her off this? Is she even going to be shocked by the surgical ward?§

    "Well, perhaps you'd like to see how things are for people when they have to do things other than be great martyrs and messiahs." Lilian says, a little drily. "As you've said, there aren't the funds nor space to make this place into a century-old global pseudo-government hegemony." Upturning on hand, she indicates towards the stairs. Just past what looks like a library computer area, using Advanced Supertechnology (desktop PCs from the 21st century), a well-lit staircase skips the fourth floor entirely (proprietary secrets!) and heads to the fifth.

    . . . . . . . .

    Since Matilda loves grimbright noble sacrifice and professionalism, all bloodstained steel and shiny white paint, Lilian's next choice is kryptonite to aspiring rich girls: An entire floor, asymmetrically divided, filled with the random detritus of normal people living their lives. A coffee corner here, a room filled with game tables there, an impromptu arcade being slowly accumulated by five enterprising souls, a little theatre lounge using surplus equipment from the Supervillain Simulation; it's a walk around an in-progress D&D game, a scuffed replica of an indoor racquetball match, a group hooting and hollering over a cage match on a CRT in the corner of a private bar, set up separate of the second floor, two Fixers playing chess in the middle of a hallway intersection, a shared use photo lab for physical film, and so on.

    "There's a designated schedule, one I've drafted and maintained, for all Fixers of various ranks, including training, rest, work time, study groups, maintenance, general education, regular patrols, and personal time." Lilian says, moving around the space as if hoping to overwhelm Matilda with the general nature of ages-eighteen-to-thirty-five co-ed Adventurers, but somewhat producing an island of order around herself anyways. "But personal time is more or less unrestricted. This floor was almost entirely filled with what people signed the paperwork to bring in. Excursions beyond the campus don't require any sort of permission, though many prefer to stay within the blocks that we own; employees mostly spend surplus salary on whatever they want . . ." She points up, to the floors above. "And those who have no better place to be live here as well.

    Yeah! Scare her off with Communal Living! Lilian knows well enough that it's secretly the most nerve-wracking thing in the universe, after all.
Timespace Riders I suppose it *has* been quite the time since I've had proper French cuisine...

    "French," Woz repeats--and at first, it might seem as though this were the windup to one of his sarcastic barbs, just based on tone alone. His expression, however, is far from it--concentrated thought, brown eyes narrowed, brow furrowed. A brief nod seals it. "I had used the term in the general sense, but to honor our guest, what better form than the *original* hors d'oeuvres?"

    "Tada!" another Sougo (!) appears in Matilda's path with a silver salver under a lid. He makes to lift the lid, but Woz flings his scarf outwards. The garment impossibly extends and scoops the platter up, lid and all, depositing it into his outstretched hand. "Aw, Woz... I wanted to do the thing!"

    "For a king to present food in such a fashion is ridiculous, no more so than when his servant is present." says Woz, moving straight to presentation. Under the lid, proferred to Matilda, is a spread of canapés, all sharing beds of toasted bread. Woz lists each, with pride bent at the waist to present it properly: "As a middle point between tradition and modernity, my first offering. Smoked wild salmon over a bed of cream cheese and dill on white bread, with lemon drizzle and red onion garnish," he says, his hand trails to the next variety. Delicious little pink slabs of salmon rest on snowy drifts of fluffy cream cheese shot through with dill, almost giving the impression of an alpine range. The diced red onions sit like inviting jewels atop the salmon. "For a more traditional touch, pâté de foie gras over a cream spread made from goat cheese, butter, sherry and parsley, on toasted brown bread, with hazelnut concassé garnish." The cream spread looks almost like melted cheese, and just as delicious; the hazelnut topping almost makes it look like a dessert item. The seared foie gras does nothing to dissuade that idea; its light sear gives it a sheen and a color like candy. "Finally," he says, indicating the third variety, "The most iconoclastic of the offerings today, minced lobster tail over a spread of mayonnaise, creme friache, chilli, and chopped green apple, on toasted ciabatta, with lime drizzle and dill garnish." Compared to the wintry air of the first and the autumnal colors of the second, this last one reminds rather of spring, in the preponderance of greens and pinks, and the less snowy-white, more yellow-white spread.

     Woz made enough not only for every member of the tour party, but with the presumption that future!Sougo (who just now disappeared glumly in a flash of pink light) would steal one before presenting, *and* that other Fixers and support staff alike passing by would take one--even accounting for the passage through the living space floor. The retainer holds his head high with pride and practically glides across the floor, holding the salver at waist level to go so far as encouraging drive-by snatching.

     Hm... I'm not sure Woz's finger food is such a great idea, if *that's* the first impression Lilian wants to give... but, then again, Woz loves doing that, so... The Sougo walking alongside Matilda smiles, and briefly disappears. "Oh, hey, they finally got that pool table in here!"
Angela Ceri doesn't seem to have any lack of faith in Matilda mostly because the idea of someone going to a school so that they can effectively do Fixer work isn't too unusual and Matilda is at a good age for it. Most Fixers start younger but it seems like Matilda has essentially been at least involved in Fixer ''like'' work from a young age. If anything, she'd be doing field work later than the average Fixer but it isn't, like, worryingly so.

Cheer on the other hand is staring at Matilda with rapt attention, only distracted once they make it down to the lower floor. "Yeah... I'm Cheer! I'm from the Outskirts."

"Territory outside the City where the Head doesn't hold any influence but there's no protection from The City." Ceri supplies quickly.

"And Soothe, my brother, is also from the Outskirts. Solace is a Hunter but a Fixer from The City managed to get us to become citizens but then he went on a mission and didn't come back so it's just mom and us now. Miss Lilian and Miss Rita got us a nice home but mom's always working still so I gotta get good at fighting so I can take over some day and beat up the bad guys so that Miss Lilian and Miss Rita don't have to work so hard and I'm gonna become so strong that all the weirdos who keep bugging Rita don't bug her so much because they're gonna be more scared of me."

Solace ruffles her hair as if to say 'good answer'.

r"They're gonna be so scared they're gonna piss and shit themselves."

"Language." Solace says so mildly that it's barely a chastisement.

"Sorry mom." Cheer adds. Solace gives Sougo a look that's about 75 percent Geizian. A sort of look that's too serious to admit that she's feeling like she's missing something. She glances at Woz too but she's not getting any answers there either. What she doesn't understand, of course, is the perkiness. And the politics.

Ceri is wondering if Sarracenia's time with the Liu is paying off mostly because Sarracenia hasn't picked a fight with Lilian yet but any time she is feeling cautious to make any presumptions about that. But she does glance her way periodically as if waiting for a shoe to drop.

''You will most certainly find I am up to the task as any one could be.''

"I would prefer if you don't martyr yourself for us." Ceri says. "You have your own world to tend to after all. But I'll appreciate your diligence." Despite Odette being consistently stellar with her medical work it's hard for her to have faith in someone who is that twitchy.

She's getting some Finn vibes. That's not neccessarily a bad thing but...
Angela ''At ease.''

Sasha takes that as a cue to give a report, "Case almost fixed up. Can return to work by the top of the hour."

"Once our cannisters are at quota, two weeks at the latest, I'm going to show Mang-chi the ropes. Not technically supposed to share our methods with outside Associations but so long as you don't go around sharing it, Xiao said the Liu won't mind."

They return to their work as Lilian moves on.

''Ceri is correct, of course.''

"Grade Nines typically don't get involved in that much combat, it's more common as you go up. Right now Finn has gathered up a bunch of the neighborhood dogs and is walking them for everyone. You'd be starting with a lot of work like that. the first batch of Outsider Fixers mostly started at Grade Eight but all new recruits start at Grade Nine liscences like everybody else."

''Nor if the Head becomes obsessed with ousting us.''

"We'll have to make sure you're well educated on the matters of Impurities and taboos of the Head. There are certain ironclad laws here that they ''will'' come down hard on if they find out about it. I imagine the Head expects some accidental growing pains but flagrant defiance of the laws will be troublesome for our goals."

''krpytonite to aspiring rich girls.''

Arachnae, a woman with spider mandibles on her face, is sipping coffee with Pete who is grinning and talking about the time he went to Rock Festival.

"Yeah I had to sneak in of course but I got caught by the drummed and he tossed me this shirt it was the most incredible xperience in my life and woah hey Director! Who's the new girl?"

Arachnae turns to look and says, "Oh what a cutie! She's got such kind eyes..."
Sarracenia      'Don't worry about it!'

     Sarra nods, seeming to appreciate the diplomatic answer. "It is good to have you both aboard." she says, giving Sougo a light bow.

     'Lilian looks slowly to Sarracenia...'

     The shoe that Ceri is worried about almost drops when Lilian gives Sarra that look. Sarra's so far pleasant smile fades to a slight frown and her cheeks puff a bit. She knows what Lilian means with that look, but she'll wait to see what Matilda thinks of that before she says anything. After all, Matilda seems to be a bright and sunny sort. She may take it as a positive thing! So, Sarra puts her smile back on quickly. "I personally think there are many more noble souls in the worlds than our Director does, and we do our best to consolidate them here, whether by having them join or by working alongside them like we are with the Liu and Zwei! Those who join just looking to survive often, as the Director said, end up developing a noble side the more time they spend here." The princess is doing her best to play extra nice today.

     'Which presents another side to the work; until you reach Grade Seven, Fixers spend plenty of time performing unglamorous community tasks as well.'

     This prompts Sarracenia to add, "I am a Grade Six! It takes little time to climb the ranks if you are committed!" She's not purposely undermining Lilian's attempts at dissuading Matilda. She just doesn't get a lot of opportunities to brag about something actually positive!

     Sougo and Woz present proper hors d'oeuvres. Sarra can barely say the name and has no idea how it is spelled, but after giggling at the pair's antics she takes one of each to sample them. "Quite good!" she says cheerfully.

     Sarra notices Ceri glancing her way every now and then, and on one of the glances Sarra offers a small smile and a little hopeful wave. Apparently she thinks they might still be able to be friends or at least friendly.

     They enter the anti-rich girl area, and Sarra once again accidentally undermines things. "After spending time in the Liu camp, this is not bad at all. It is quaint in a way." she says, then gasps! "Is that Galaga?!" the princess exclaims before rushing over to the arcade area. Sarra is a princess that likes to go to malls and the arcades contained within. She quickly applies some credits. "Matilda you must play this! It is quite low quality for a game, but something about it is surprisingly fun!"
Foundation Scions 'I'd have thought the Foundation would have a somewhat multinational menu, given its . . .'

    "One would think, and yet! The Foundation's cafeteria, it is, simply, not very good. The food is functional and nutritious, of course, but..." Whining, "*So* very British. Only when I travel home do I get a good chance for the real thing, and that is, er, it has been a while."

'What better form than the *original* hors d'oeuvres?'

    Matilda makes an exceptionally pleased noise at that- and is fully, literally, jump-scared by the appearance of another Sougo. "Zut alors- erm, hello? You have brought food *this* quickly..? Oh my..."

    Matilda, after a moment of awed appreciation at the spread, begins to double-fist different appetizers, in a hurry to not distract from the tour, but devestatingly eager to eat food not from the Foundation kitchens. "Goodness me, I must thank you- ah? In a poof of pink-? Must you dissapear so quickly..?"

    Matilda, mid-bite, looks around as if the future Sougo, a bit dissapointed that she can't see him hidden anywhere after the disappearing act.

'Yeah... I'm Cheer! I'm from the Outskirts.'

    "Cheer! How cheerful of a name-! Oh, erm... a mission and did not return..? My condolences..." Matilda's excited expression wilts sympathetic a bit, at an assumed loss. "I'm sure you'll be the best there is at fighting! And I can see the future, so, you simply must trust that!~"

'Fixers spend plenty of time performing unglamorous community tasks as well.'

    Matilda nods along, fully not internalizing that as some sort of warding-off. Slightly reverent, "It is their jobs to be those that others can turn to..?" Yeah, that was the intended message. Good job!

'A red tie denotes support staff. Various labourers, administrators, and experts, who are employed full-time and report only to the Association.'

    "Oh! I see, I see! The Foundation ensures similarly, given the necessities its Headquarters has in functioning independent of outside supply and information networks. And... such, also, is a growing trend in the business structurings of 1928's industrial growth. Is, erm, there a specific reason beyond convenience that that is how it is, here? Is it, perhaps, to safeguard information..?"

    Matilda does spend a decent few seconds paused to peek at the library- these are the books of a different world *and* a different time! She doesn't actually even really see the titles off of any book spines, but the interest is there. "Is this kept for reference, for education, or for entertainment..?"

. . .
Foundation Scions     "Uwah, so these, they are the dormitories..? That there is so much media that has been allowed..." Under her breath, Matilda's surprise is evident. "And excursions are *unmoderated*? Imagine..." Neither of those are good things to be surprised at!!!!!! "They must all be so well disciplined in order to have earned such... You are unbothered by the freedoms given to them?"

    Matilda looks giddy instead of deterred. Sure, the clutter of life makes her hesitate in her footfalls and scoot out of the way of disturbance, but it's a fascinating bit of perspective on the life of people here, and it's exceptionally more Free than any other space she's seen since she was basically an actual baby. She finds herself hovering for a moment to peep in on the group watching the wrestling match, eyes wide. Mouthed under-breath, "Get him-! Come on, throw that chair..!"

'Matilda you must play this!'

    "Eh-? 'Play'? What is that meant to.. be? I have not seen much larger of a television device than that appears..." Matilda Bouanich has never been to an arcade. Matilda Bouanich bypassed the Era of the arcade fully, in media-restricted schooling and training, and is unfamiliar with most technological things beyond a six year old's perspective of the 1990s. "How?"

'I would prefer if you don't martyr yourself for us.'

    "Well, likewise I do not wish to!" Matilda, hands on her hips, does an exaggerated shake of her head. "But... duty is not always without risk. That was the most of what I meant, Miss."

'There are certain ironclad laws here that they ''will'' come down hard on if they find out about it.'

    "Oh, of course! I am the best, naturally, at following dictated rules and regulations~!" That isn't true. "With the gradings, the larger the number, the most menial..? It is, in fact, the opposite way at the Foundation! How quaint."

    "And, erm, of course, I take most quickly to any sort of education! 'Studious and diligent, that Matilda Bouanich!' Such is what everyone often says of me. Schedules and regimens are a simple fact of life! In fact, as I have my own housing- I would even be less of a comparable expense for this Association, correct..?"
Lilian Rook     Lilian knew Woz was about to do a bit, but even she looks a little stunned at the degree to which he commits to it. For a moment, she looks annoyed; then, like she should tell him something. She opens her mouth, closes it, thinks with her face, then sighs, turns her back, and says "Chaill tú sé . . .". Then she takes a bite out of minced lobster that just kind of ended up in her hand somehow?

    'I'm gonna become so strong that all the weirdos who keep bugging Rita don't bug her so much because they're gonna be more scared of me.'

    Lilian's smile at that proclamation is earnest, yet uneasy; on more than one level, if one can read it well enough.

    'They're gonna be so scared they're gonna--'

    "Language." she says. Then, a second later, she clears her throat, and recites, "Wield your authority with tact. Display your power responsibly." Number nine.

    'I would prefer if you don't martyr yourself for us.'

    "Live with diligence, care, and respect for yourself. Accept only the fruits of accumulated effort."
    In a pause, Lilian looks back at Ceri too. She says with her eyes, 'I know right?' and 'Do you think it's working?' as if she'll break the spell by saying it out loud (this would actually break the spell).

    'Case almost fixed up. Can return to work by the top of the hour.'

    "Good to hear. I'm having the mechanic take note of the repeated failure points, but please draft and submit a proposal for upgrades by the end of the week."

    'Not technically supposed to share our methods with outside Associations but so long as you don't go around sharing it, Xiao said the Liu won't mind.'

    "What the Association invests in you is to only be used for the good of the Association, and those the Association protects. Carry on."

    'the first batch of Outsider Fixers mostly started at Grade Eight but all new recruits start at Grade Nine liscences like everybody else.'

    "It should go without saying, but my Grade One is a unique case." Lilian says, both because she knows Sarracenia is going to mention her six, and because it's a relevant expectation.

    'woah hey Director! Who's the new girl?'

    "FDMO representative Matilda Bouanich, of the St Pavlov Foundation and School for the Primary Defense of Mankind." Lilian says, gesturing behind Matilda. It's so matter-of-fact it's like she always does this (she kind of does).

    'Oh what a cutie! She's got such kind eyes...'

    Lilian smiles. "She's been a sweetheart so far."

    'Those who join just looking to survive often, as the Director said, end up developing a noble side the more time they spend here.'

    "It's as Sundew says." Lilian replies, daring a glamorous hair readjustment sweep. "This has been an excellent opportunity to impress upon people the sort of ideals that properly make for a hero or heroine. I'm very fortunate to have been given the trust of so many who take so well to my ideals." Damn. The voices won out on that one. That's not going to work.

    'Is, erm, there a specific reason beyond convenience that that is how it is, here? Is it, perhaps, to safeguard information..?

    "That's a good question." says Lilian, moving along her walk-and-talk all the same. "Anyone in the black and green reports, in some capacity, to me. Because they're part of the Association, I have ultimate disciplinary and promotional discretion. They shoulder a different degree of responsibility from trusted partners, contractors, and aspirants, and are thus permitted with greater degrees of access to materiel and information."
Lilian Rook     Lilian taps her cheek idly. "They're vetted more regularly and thoroughly, and so it's a show of good faith to have them involved. There are more than enough people who won't feel entirely comfortable entrusting certain things to people who can only be sued through their parent company for a violation. I regret to say that a great deal of this Association's seemingly miraculous functioning, from its independence to its access to resources to its relatively low security, is able to exist in the City due to my reputation." This will sound like she means 'sterling honour' until one day Matilda finds out about The Video.

    "Reference and education, by the way. Entertainment is to be kept to quarters or the fifth or eleventh floor. My personal library on the thirteenth is only accessible with advance application and personal approval." she says. "And . . ." Lilian sighs. "Having grown up eating entirely too much British food, I assure you, I've taken pains to ensure our cafeteria is better stocked."

    She's started to relent on the idea, now. Matilda isn't quite what she expected.

    'Uwah, so these, they are the dormitories..? That there is so much media that has been allowed...'
    'And excursions are *unmoderated*? Imagine...'

    "Technically, those who live in-house are on the sixth, seventh, and eighth floors above us. I don't care what they keep or do in their rooms so long as it doesn't concern anyone else." Lilian says, all-too casually. "The recreation floor is nominally curated and managed by Ceri and her direct subordinates, but the reality is that there's seldom any reason to crack down. People here are often from backgrounds that haven't conditioned them to extravagance, or from previous Fixer work that's already acclimated them to similar rules."

    "That is to say, in other words . . ." Lilian says, changing her tone a little. "Everyone here is aware that it's astronomically unlikely they'll get it this good anywhere else if they're ejected, so no one is eager to stretch their luck. A value that's understood well here is that one doesn't foul the water they drink from." She isn't going to not give Sarracenia a firm stare just there. "No one's tried to bring back a prostitute or smuggle in narcotics in all this time so far, so unmoderated excursions will continue to be a general perk until there's good reason to cancel it."

    Privately, Lilian finds Matilda's amazement at something so basic just a little weird. These are adults, not children. Shouldn't it be the same with the Foundation? No matter how she looks at her, Lilian can't imagine she's any younger than eighteen.

    'With the gradings, the larger the number, the most menial..? It is, in fact, the opposite way at the Foundation! How quaint.'

    Lilian shrugs. It's weird! Her rank in the Immunes goes up! Not down! "I suppose it helps establish that 'one' is always at the very top. Otherwise you might not necessarily know how many ranks are above the person you're speaking to." she says, half-heartedly.

    'In fact, as I have my own housing- I would even be less of a comparable expense for this Association, correct..?'

    After a five minute Galaga break, Lilian, finally, relents. It annoys her a great deal, since she'd planned to chase Matilda off, precious and beautiful little gem that she is, but it's become increasingly difficult for her to see her as anything but ". . . a promising first year recruit at Arx Zenith, with a sheltered upbringing." she murmurs aloud. "If you'll follow me, I'd at least like you to get an idea of what sort of training load you'd be taking on." she says, unfailingly navigating to the elevator again from the fifth floor. The line ahead clears for her.

    . . . . . . . .
Lilian Rook     The last stop is a floor-- or rather, a pair, merged into one by a habitrail-ass mixed vertical floor plan-- that many Elites know well. The pools, split between rehab/exercise and semi-recreational, the gymnasium, glass-sectioned into machines, manual, and group exercise, the firing range beyond the noise-insulated right wall, the drill area with impact mats to the left, the upper level movement course and free sparring area with mounted mock weapons, the single spot Lilian always reserves for personally instructing specific groups; it's all as usual.

    Which means semi-busy, very loud up top, and strangely quiet on the bottom. The number of Fixers in here, compared to outside on patrol, or indoors on debrief, maintenance, or free time, is unusually high, even if it isn't a huge absolute number. It's clear just from looking at those engaged in active drills that they've been at it for a while, if for nothing other than being even passingly familiar with what kind of effort it takes to bring out that kind of breathing and sweat. The sound of wood on wood is more common, but steel on steel is chilling in certain corners. There seems to be no 'weight class' involved in any pair-offs or groupings whatsoever; people are simply expected to deal with differences in build, prosthetics, human augmentations, and tattoos, as a fact of the job. For once, the pool is largely unoccupied; machine cardio is on rotation for another hour.

    "I can't stand martyrs." are Lilian's first words out of the radio. "I don't see any point to taking people in and investing this much in them if I'm going to have to get used to seeing death reports anyways. Nobody in this organization should take training lightly. I won't allow them to." She looks back over her shoulder at Matilda. "I don't know how the SPDM does things, Bouanich, but I'd believe their discipline and training is quite impressive. I assure you, however, that if you want to get past Grade Six in this organization, mine is on another level; and if you break Three, a level even beyond that."

    "While you're here," It's a foregone conclusion at this point. "you may as well consider training to survive in the field a part time job; the hours aren't flexible, and the full course is mandatory. Overtime happens if necessary, and isn't compensated. Before I ask anyone to do anything that could get them killed . . ." Lilian takes a deep breath, holds it, and then lets it out until there's only an arch half-smile left. "Well, consider it something like 'from the moment you sign up, your body is my asset'."

    "If that doesn't put you off, then . . ." She looks at Ceri. "You have a week to decide, and have the paperwork back in."
Angela It used to be that Ceri could only speak openly and honestly about how she felt and communicated with a look only rarely, but now she feels she's becoming fluent in the meaningful glance. As such, when Lilian gives her a look of 'Do you think it's working?', Ceri's eyes soften and her shoulders drop, her tongue pushing against the roof of her mouth which is, along with a soft exhale of breath, clearly 'I don't think it's gonna work chief' with all the helpless ympathy and empathy to the situation she can offer.

Of course, they could just tell a promising and energized recruit to fuck off, there's nothing in the rule book they need to recruit people just because they seem promising. Why, they can even deny top of the line Fixers if they feel like it. They probably have!

But she's certainly determined.

''Hey they finally got that pool table in here!''

"I'll show you how it's done later too." Pete grins with his usual brand of self-assurance that's just shy of cocky arrogance.

''I am a Grade Six!''

Should've let her die Ceri thinks. Should've just been like oops sorry, it burned up in the laser. Gosh she was so heroic we should posthumously say she's Grade Five, maybe even make her a Color. The Silver Cougar.

She pushes these frustrations out of her head. It's not helpful. She gives Sarracenia a lazy wave back as she tries to put the declaration out of mind.

Cheer winces a little at being called out by Lilian as well, "Yes Director..." She says as if she just got caught above a shattered cookie jar. Her head snaps at Matilda, who claims to SEE THE FUTURE and she says, "Woah...! Really?? I'm gonna work so hard it comes true!" Looks like Matilda has a fan now. Solace is about to warn Cheer that she can't trust fortune tellers but she's from another world, she realizes at the last moment, for all she knows this is COMPLETELY TRUE AND NOT MADE UP AT ALL.

Solace says, "You'll be tougher htan me someday then."

"I'll protect you too." Cheer beams. Her name is, honestly, apt.

''But... duty is not always without ris.''

"So long as you're aware of that." Ceri doesn't want to harangue Matilda too much. There is the reputation of the group to consider. Instead she collects some of the salmon. Solace waves it off. cheer steals away some cheese when she thinks Solace isn't looking.
Angela Pete gets the lowdown on Matilda and approaches her and offers her a hifive and a grin. "Well well that sounds fancy. Welcome to Trideag! You're gonna love it here." Oh no! He is doing the opposite of dissuading Matilda!

Arachnae is content to let the tour group handle the pitch but she does wiggle her fingers at her in a vaguely sultry-but-not-really manner, like gesturing towards the idea of it without actually stepping into the pool.

''Due to my reputation.''

"Nobody here wants to harm that reputation either." Pete says. "I won't say we didn't step in it from time to time but it's something special here so we try to learn from our mistakes, dust ourselves off, and move on--" He glances at Solace.

Who fluidly adds, "I have erred in desperation. I am atoning." in a manner that is both agreement and interruption. "The Director is the backbone of the community, but she does not fight alone in making this a place that is 'this good'."

''The larger the number, the more menial?''

"It gets worse. In most Wings, a higher number means more authority." Ceri says with the sort of dread one readily accumulates when facing the horrors of conflicting bureaucracies.

Finn is working out at the gym as usual. Since he doesn't use prosthetics or augments of any kind he has to work twice as hard. He looks to be about 20, maybe 21, but he's a short guy. Doesn't even make it to 5 feet tall. He's just finishing up a set and sees the arrival of a tour group as a reason to take a break. He guzzles down water quickly before weakly smiling and throwing a wave to the others. He ... is gonna need a minute before he even tries standing.

"New recruits...hahh... Director? Don't worry... hahh... just putting in some overtime..."

243,''I can't stand martyrs'')

Ceri earned Lilian's trust by nearly killing herself to begin with. But most situations aren't a Queen of the Deep threatening multiple worlds so she doesn't take any concern with the statement, nodding her ahead in agreement. "I'd ask you actually take the time to think it over too. No bonus points for getting them in today. Even if you're 110 percent sure, consider it a favor to a worrywart like me."
Foundation Scions 'A value that's understood well here is that one doesn't foul the water they drink from.'

    Quietly, Matilda nods along to the explanation of the lax supervision. Such a thing makes sense explained, even if it strikes her as odd!

'Woah...! Really?? I'm gonna work so hard it comes true!'

    "Of course, 'really'! And only with the utmost of clarity." Is she bragging or assuring the kid? Both!

'I suppose it helps establish that 'one' is always at the very top.'

    "I see..." This, combined with Lilian's comment on her own rank being One, makes Matilda Ooh and Aah, just a little bit. "So it is a scheme that is even consistent across something larger? I assumed such a thing as ranks to be decided by this group. Every field and military has their own pattern, it must be so much more convenient to standardize..." To herself, Matilda is idly daydreaming about how the opposite numbering pattern might, perhaps, sound cool towards her peers at the Foundation.

'If you'll follow me, I'd at least like you to get an idea of what sort of training load you'd be taking on.'

    "You know, in my time at the SPDM, I did quite consistently score top marks," *Not* top of her class, that's a different wording, so this isn't really a lie, "In physical education. It was an important aspect of the curriculum, after all." She likes to run and jump! That much has maybe been obvious by some parts of her demeanor, such as when ambling around the hillside rocks while making the spirit homes with others.

    Actually looking out at the training facilities is another thing- that so much of the combat training is being done by sparring groups in reality, instead of via some sort of augmented or virtual reality, is a small surprise to her. "I... know it to be untrue that outside worlds rely on Artificial Somnambulism for such things, but do you not utilize simulations in your fight preparations? For, especially, strange circumstances or foes..? Though, perhaps that is unnecessary. Hrm.."
Foundation Scions 'The Director is the backbone of the community, but she does not fight alone in making this a place that is 'this good'.'

    "Hm! Such is a heartening thing to hear!~"

'I can't stand martyrs.'

    Article I of the Student Handbook of the SPDM: Students are Born to Die Martyrs. Matilda blinks, worried only momentarily at the content and tone. She doesn't *want* to die for a cause, not really, but it's a noble and necessary ideal for the servants of humanity. Surely it should be, here, too? "Ah-hem. I- most certainly, would much prefer, as well, to not undertake unnecessary risk to myself! That would only be most irresponsible. I assure you, I would not be such a waste of efforts."

    A distaste for it, and Matilda's own lack of plans to become one, however, aren't fundamental shaker-uppers of that ingrained belief- Martyrdom is *necessary*, in principle, if only because people need the willingness to lay down life for the general good. That's agreed upon here, yes? Yay! Matilda Bouanich is so good at internal reasoning. This *must* be a good and heroic plac.

'I don't know how the SPDM does things, Bouanich, but I'd believe their discipline and training is quite impressive.'

    "Most impressive, yes! But, I believe such rigor possible here could exceed it, given how much more specialized and further along in the development of one's own skill this environment can host. I, of course, look forwards to seeing such for myself!" She's not lacking in confidence, at least.

'While you're here,'

    Matilda perks up like an animal that heard a branch snap. "I will ensure approval of the necessary times with my other responsibilities. It will most certainly be feasible!" Hopefully. She might have to skimp on sleep a decent bit. But, the excuse of 'It's for FDMO business' is still versatile, so! Her fingers are most certainly crossed.

    The asset line makes Matilda stand there and blink, slightly quizzical- but of course, that's generally expected with leadership in circumstances like this? *When*, not *if*, Matilda is accepted as a Field Investigator, such a sentiment could surely be shared from the House of Integratus at the Foundation at large- or its President, or even just the head administration of Field Investigator duties. That's a normal way to phrase it!

'You have a week to decide, and have the paperwork back in.'

    Matilda lets out an absolutely giddy little squeal. Per Ceri's request, "Of course I shall take the correct amount of time to consider. I'll ensure the forms are completed and turned in in five days, not hastily immediate." Well, saying she's *going* to turn the forms in kind of sounds like she's already decided. Sorry, Ceri.
Sarracenia      'Lilian's firm stare'

     Sarra mmphs and crosses her arms over her chest, cheeks puffed lightly again. She looks off to the side though instead of staring back. "...indeed. The people of this City have a very difficult and dangerous life outside of the Trideag areas." she says, trying to be diplomatic like Sougo.

     'Eh-? 'Play'? What is that meant to.. be? I have not seen much larger of a television device than that appears...How?'

     "How...?" Sarra asks in mild amazement before her eyes sparkle. "Well, let me show you~" Sarra proceeds to enthusiastically instruct Matilda in the basic button functions and the goal of the game, and after one level of letting Matilda watch her she hands the controls over to Matilda. "You are clearly quite bright! I am sure you will be an expert in this game in no time~" Sarra pauses a moment, then gasps. "Oh dear...does the Foundation...not have games? Video or otherwise?" she asks in a bit of a horrified tone with hands clasped over her mouth. Then an even worse possibility hits her. "And what about...spas?" Sarra takes relaxation very seriously.

     As they reach the last stop Sarra smiles. "Ah! My favorite floor! It may be surprising since I am a princess, but I train daily both to keep in shape and to keep my skills sharp. And after a good bout of training a soak in the pool or hot tub is lovely, or even the cold bath if things were a bit rough that day."

     'I can't stand martyrs.'

     Sarra hmms. "While becoming a martyr is noble, -trying- to become a martyr is kind of...self-sabotaging as well as undermining the good one could do if one survived, I think."

     'from the moment you sign up, your body is my asset'

     Sarra blinks at that phrasing and frowns a bit. "...if one did not know that the Director was not one to sacrifice people lightly, one might find that unsettling."

     'But... duty is not always without risk. That was the most of what I meant, Miss.'

     Sarra nods lightly. "...there is a lot of risk working in the City. I did not appreciate just how much risk until I went on a few proper operations. You should know the kinds of things you might encounter if you join any of those operations. Things like...a monstrous whale that transforms people into murderous sea creatures. An organ player who ended hundreds of lives with merely a stroke of the keys. A...space laser which ended just as many lives, taking out the innocent along with the guilty in an effort to cleanse the City."

     Sarra takes a breath after that, then lets it out slowly. " This City is an incredibly terrible place. That of course means we have a chance to do some amazing good in this place, but it also means...you may see things that you cannot unsee. Things that might haunt your sleep." Sarra hesitates, wondering if she should have said that, then sigh. "I just...thought you should know before you made your decision. If you do start working here, you have to promise that you will do your best to remain sunny and cheerful, okay?"
Lilian Rook     For some reason, though Ceri didn't say anything funny out loud, Lilian has to hide a snicker as a cough into her hand at coincidentally the same time Ceri is thinking about 'the silver cougar'.

    'Nobody here wants to harm that reputation either.'

    "I appreciate it tremendously each day." says Lilian. "I seldom find such honest people amongst the Elite corps of each faction, but they're surprisingly not uncommon when you kneel down to look."

    'I have erred in desperation. I am atoning.'

    "No one here is angry with you Solace." Lilian asserts, perhaps too confidently. "At least not anymore. All we need is to be certain it doesn't happen again." Rather than being put off, she smiles, only slightly, at 'she does not fight alone'.

    'In physical education. It was an important aspect of the curriculum, after all.'

    This time, Lilian can't help but let out an exasperated gasp, and an "Oh thank god finally." Hastily clarifying, she says, "We've had people who were overly interested in the prestige of this job but couldn't swing a sword to save their lives." Audrey. She means Audrey. "And, frankly, too few Elites take their physical health seriously. But . . ."

    'but do you not utilize simulations in your fight preparations? For, especially, strange circumstances or foes..?'

    Lilian shakes her head. She dimly sensed this one was coming. "No. Simulations are fine in my opinion, but they don't teach you to . . ." At a loss for any alternative term, she uses her typical choice. "Respect the steel. If the animal part of your brain isn't engaged, thinking about pain and injury on a primal level, then the exercise isn't analogous to real battle. It won't necessarily build the confidence to act in a live combat situation. In the worst case, it can build bad habits, or leave you freezing up."

    After a pause, she adds, "Though, I didn't know Artificial Somnambulism had that sort of use. Perhaps I might add something similar to the curriculum for exam material; especially now that we're dealing with the Distortion phenomenon. But I'd rather recreate unusual battle scenarios with what we have, rather than teach my Fixers to defeat virtual foes, and not real ones."

    "Overcoming fear and hesitation is too important on the streets. Simulations can teach you competence, but they can't eliminate the one percent possibility you'll be killed; and I can't have that with recruits who'll have to fight a hundred battles."

    'But, I believe such rigor possible here could exceed it, given how much more specialized and further along in the development of one's own skill this environment can host.'

    Lilian hesitates, then smiles in a far off way. Almost a deflection. "I try to derive from my own experiences. But at a level that human beings can handle." she says, vaguely.

    'Of course I shall take the correct amount of time to consider. I'll ensure the forms are completed and turned in in five days, not hastily immediate.'

    Lilian sighs. "Please use those five days to actually think about it." she says. "But I won't stop you; I'll pull you out in a heartbeat if it seems like I have to, but I won't prevent you from trying, that is."

    ". . . That's all for now. Would you like to see the rooftop garden?"