Scene #9492: Chicago in Turmoil: Arcanist Tensions Erupt Into Violent Confrontations

Owner	Pose
Timekeeper	The city hasn't changed much in appearance since the last visit the Watch paid to the Ainsworth telephone operator's office, but the atmosphere has. Vertin, waiting outside the Ford Factory alongside Regulus, has ironed a black leather cover over her suitcase to conceal the grey Foundation diamond pattern, and greets you with a nod and a short "We won't be taking the bus today." It's well below freezing today, especially with the wind, so Vertin's added a dark blue fur-necked coat over her typical uniform, and keeps a hand on top of her head to prevent her hat from flying away. While walking through the grey trampled snow, she exposits to catch everyone up on the state of Chicago as it is today. "While we did save several lives that were otherwise lost in the Columbus Day massacre, in terms of the impact on the social attitudes of Chicago, it was a complete victory by the Manus Vindictae. Having several humans killed at the hands of arcanists was the spark needed to ignite the anti-arcanist sentiment already simmering in this era, and the Foundation is the only organization attempting to soothe the violence rather than intensify it-- asides from the Watch, of course." "There's been increasing incidents of racially-motivated attacks against arcanists, and unnaturally little effort from the police to investigate them. The Chicago Foundation branch has been helping us as much as they're able, but a large amount of the peacekeeping effort has fallen to us in headquarters. Unfortunately, the Chicago branch has been consistently unable to negotiate cooperation with the city and state government to give us permits to work freely." At the mouth of an alleyway that heads between two run-down brick buildings towards the Ainsworth office entrance, Vertin turns back to face the group. "Naturally, that's why we're here. Regulus has provided us phenomenal information as to the whereabouts of the Manus Vindictae, and alongside the intelligence of Bellwhistle's cell here, I hope to coordinate our next movements." "As before; none of us are associated with the Foundation, and the Storm doesn't exist." Vertin nods to ensure everyone understands, and then opens the door into the office. It's the same worn but cozy setup as before, with one wall dominated by switchboards and the other having a thredbare couch and chairs and a door that leads to its makeshift apartment. Not all of the girls from last time are present: Doris, the somewhat-older mother, and Margaret, the teenager with a mop of curly hair squished down by the headset, work the switchboards, but at this hour in this neighborhood it's quiet enough that they can freely turn around to greet you. Mostly, that's because of Bellwhistle, the Awakened telephone operator whose arcane skill lets her handle most of it by herself. Copper wire and iron hinges and rods form her skeleton under pale-painted metal shell exterior, with red-gold hair and a headset replacing her ears, and a portable switchboard cradled in her arms, and this time she remembers to properly run an extra cable from her headset to the mic hanging on her shirt so that she can speak. "Hey sweethearts, come on through and take a seat. Doris put coffee on, no need to be stiff about talking nothing but business. --Number please? ... Alright, putting you through." Despite her gentle and upbeat words, Bellwhistle's energy is noticeably depleted from last time you saw her. When she raises up her arm to switch around the plugs in her portable switchboard, there's a crack down the tricep panel of her skin, and chipped-bare bits on her shoulders.
Regulus	Regulus looks like the cat that has eaten the canary but she does, at the very least, avoid doing a silly little dance like she's in an Illumination movie, but that might be because all things told the situation is dire enough that even Regulus thinks doing a little dance right now wouldn't be appropriate or it might be something else, but no amount of propriety is gonna stop her from looking smug. For someone who went to great lengths to avoid becoming a minion of the Foundation, she seems perfectly at peace at being Vertin's minion--enough that she is taking some genuine pride in actually being able to help her out. "While the Foundation's fussing over paperwork it's up to us to get the lead on." Regulus says, pumping her fist into the air in an attempt, no doubt, to encourage her fellow Watchbuddies. "They'll be so embarrassed when we crack this case wide open that they'll freak!" Lilian and Petra made fun of her so her motivation is about as maximized as plausible. "It'll be a riot when they realize we've foiled Manus Vindictae before they got their shoes on." ''As before; none of us are associated with the Foundation, and the Storm doesn't exist.'' Regulus swallows. "Aha...! That's right!" She may have forgotten that was their cover story she had gotten shot AND had a halloween party since her last visit here so the reminder is well timed. Swinging her hands behind her, she follows Vertin into the office alongside APPLe who--well is PROBABLY eager to see Bellwhistle again. "Madam Bellwhistle, it is a unique pleasure to get to see you again." APPLe tells her, dipping his head forward and then sort of rotating around until he's facing forward again. "Ahem, overestimated the inertia a bit there, ha ha." He reaches into his tie and draws out a pair of glasses, which he puts on despite having no nose, taking a cup of joe before sitting down. Well, picking a chair and hovering over it. "It seems you've seen better days, are you quite alright Madam Bellwhistle?" "Yeah, mate." Regulus adds. "Mr. Pitts isn't grinding your gears too harshly, is he?"
Odette Raskins	Despite the freezing cold outside, Odette's looking about as cozy as she's ever been bundled up in a thick blue jacket bearing the Company's medical team insignia. Between that and a longer wool skirt, she's definitely in her element while following along behind Vertin. "It's real weird why the police aren't helping... I thought their job was to handle exactly this kind of thing so people don't get hurt." She somehow manages to say with a straight face, sounding genuinely confused and disappointed at the same time. "If the government's even getting in the way, maybe..." She scrunches her face up slightly as another possibility comes to mind. "Maybe there's someone in Manus Vindictae with dirt on them and keeping everyone from moving the way they should." She guesses, chuckling quietly when she sees the look on Regulus' face. "Good job, Regulus. Y-yeah, I'm really hoping we get a good break this time after..." The chuckle fades, and then she scrunches up her face again. "After all this, and after last time." Arriving at the office, Odette nods quickly as Vertin confirms everyone's associations. "Got it. Never heard of the Storm, and the Foundation... I'm with the Company, so I can work from there." She confirms with another nod and then it's time to head in! Once she's inside and faced with the blast of indoor coziness, Odette takes off her coat and slings it over her shoulder before greeting Doris, Margaret, and Bellwhistle with a light wave of the medical case in her not-coat holding hand. "Hi, Miss Bellwhistle! Hello, Miss Doris! Miss Margaret. It's good to see you all a... gain?" Noticing the damage on Bellwhistle's arm, Odette glances at her medical case, then raises it slightly. "Did you get hurt? Ah... I could see if I can patch that up if you want." She looks like she really wants to ask about that, but she holds back. Instead, she glances around the room once more, noticing some missing faces. "Are... Um. Are Miss Evie and Miss Ruth doing okay?"
Rita Ma	Rita steps through the Ford factory warpgate, freezes (in multiple senses), ducks back through, and re-emerges a couple minutes later now wearing a comfy-looking jacket very outside her normal colors. google when zippers invented google when zippers on jackets google first synthetic fabrics google what does rayon look like ... She'll look a bit eccentric to the era's sensibilities, but not like an alien. Good enough. She reaaaally doesn't want to be extruding tentacles over the jacket to change how it looks, right now. "Because the 'Chicago branch' isn't competent, Ms. Timekeeper, or because the city is hostile?" The latter seems almost presumed, but the way they put it softly implies the former too. "In lots of places the police don't care about the downtrodden, Ms. Odette," Rita solemnly informs her. (It's normal for littlesisteroids to not know these things.) "But this is a little odd. Arcanists aren't always poor, are they?" With Lilian's help she's still only novelly stumbled on the idea that rich people can get hatecrimed too. . . . "Hi, Ms. Doris! Hi, Ms. Margaret! Hi... Miss Bellwhistle? Are you...?" The missing faces, and Bellwhistle's chips, make her heart sink. But Rita being Rita, her head probably doesn't go to the right place. "... Mr. Pitts didn't do anything awful, did he?" she says, in a soft-aghast tone. Layoffs and hurting his employees... "Oh, um, just water for me, please...!"
Vantablitz Remnants	Ahn isn't exactly up to date with this one (or literally anything at all), but she met Vertin in that office, and also Regulus was there too, and after it turned out everyone she joined the Watch for isn't even in it anymore, having a normal conversation over snacks is about as ironclab a social binding as there is. So if there's trouble that Vertin has to deal with, she has to be there! That's the sole premise binding the Watch together, after all! That, and, to her, Vertin is sort of a strange and ethereal little animal, who is perhaps a little skittish and in over her head. So she has to. Ahn also knows approximately jack and dick about 1928 America and her ability to research it is relegated to a handful of random movies, so she's barely bothered. Fortunately, her dress sense is 'shut-in who got away with it for way too long and someone just bought her like three nice sets of clothes recently' so it's hard for her to really stand out that much just for a few anachronistic fabric-types, besides being kinda tall, non-white; oh and maybe that variety of weird black-petaled flower with the acid green stamen she keeps picking from home to wear on her head. Upon arriving, the very socially savvy Ahn chooses, instead of throwing the fresh bloom away, wearing a slightly ill-fitting hat instead, re-tying her hair from ponytail to messy bun. She nearly dislodges it by nodding along with Vertin on the bus. "By 'unnaturally' do you mean . . . like the police are being politically held back? Or like they're being unusually racist? 'Unnatural' means something different from 'abnormal', and that's important when it's about the law." Ahn asks, more clearly than her usual for a crowded social situation like this. "Gosh. The Chicago branch really isn't very useful huh? Isn't the Foundation Bureau--" Conceptually tough, apparently, "--in charge of licenses and permits and stuff?" 'Regulus has provided us phenomenal information as to the whereabouts of the Manus Vindictae' "Whoa really what?" Ahn suddenly looks at Regulus. It's maybe a tiny bit mean that it's so obvious she's suddenly finding new respect for that bizarre little plant apologist. You'd think the last time she did, under life and death peril, would have been good enough to push it up to a baseline at least. "Nice job Regulus!" Her idea of praise involves squimshing down Regulus' gay little cap and rubbing her head. "Yeah! They'll go totally crazy! That'll teach 'em, right?" 'Ahem, overestimated the inertia a bit there, ha ha.' Do not be charmed by the disarming wiles of the sentient fruit. It's waiting for you to let your guard down. 'Hey sweethearts, come on through and take a seat. Doris put coffee on, no need to be stiff about talking nothing but business. --Number please? ... Alright, putting you through.'
Vantablitz Remnants	"Oh wow she's so cool--!" Ahn gasps, hands to her mouth, entranced and fascinated by literally everything Bellwhistle has going on. Non-fruits are okay, apparently. Unfortunately, a comfy little used-up backroom in an undesirable building interior with a tiny handful of new people allows Ahn to settle into her comfort zone. "Oh oh you have to be the best at this ever! Wait, did you secretly invent the switchboard?! Are phones technology that the Americans stole from you?! The CIA right? Or maybe the FBI? Oh oh oh can you hear all the phones simultaneously? What are you surveilling for? You don't get calls from the government right? No way! You totally broke off from them didn't you! What's the big conspiracy right now? How many? Who are you tracking? Do you have anything on them but their names and the sounds of their voices you learned to recognize? What are they up to?!" She's already trying to make circuits of the room, poring over every boring piece of phone equipment as if it suddenly holds the answers to the deepstate's ultimate objectives in altering the human genome in 2058; or something like that. She has to complete a full circuit (awkwardly apologizing to and stutter-excusing herself with Dorins and Margaret) before coming back to Bellwhistle, and-- "--Oh no! Do you need fixing up? I brought my tools with me, actually!" she says, immediately dumping her obviously military backpack down on a chair and unzipping it.
Tamiel Luxis	She was almost getting comfortable wearing her little newsboy cap! And really she was sick of hiding her wings--they were so cramped--who could blame her for letting them hang free behind her now? Arcanists existed! That was fine... ...Right? "...I don't know how far the Foundation would go, to spare trouble for Arcanists...Their cover story for closing the Ford factory was an arcanist terror attack." Mesmer blasely casting the blame onto a bunch of them had left a stain in her heart on the Foundation that had never been scrubbed clean. "If the local forces say, 'we won't give you permission,' I don't know that the Foundation would risk its reputation by trying much harder...?" She looks to Vertin, biting down on her lip for a second, and then, "...Have things always been this way for arcanists? In the version of history where those arcanists all got shot...Did people care this much about what happened?" The pinched, downward curve of her lip suggested she had an idea. "...Hello." She greets the three people helping them, distress comes to her face. She didn't know Bellwhistle, but her tone and the chip told a story of exhaustion or pain or both that she did not like. "...If a little magic healing would help, I can offer some..." She clasps her hands together, as she steps toward them with Ahn. Her wings hum with a soft, comfortable light. "...Just ask!"
Timekeeper	"They'll be so embarrassed when we crack this case wide open that they'll freak!" Vertin smiles, small but genuine, while Regulus hypes everyone up. Even she's susceptible to Regulus's hype tactics. "You'll certainly show the Foundation how invaluable you are, Regulus. I already know it." Ahn's encouragement to Regulus widens her smile even slightly further, enough that she covers it up with a hand before anyone can spot the humiliating over-180-degrees-angle of her lips. "Because the 'Chicago branch' isn't competent, Ms. Timekeeper, or because the city is hostile?" Vertin shakes her head. "I'm uncertain. I've never had any direct correspondence with the Chicago branch. All I've heard about it has passed through a half-dozen hands by the time I'm told. My estimate is that the local Foundation tends to be weaker in eras and areas with less sympathy towards arcanists, due to less funding and government willingness to work alongside a pro-arcanist bureau." She frowns a little bit, tapping a finger against her (made twice as thick by the poof of her coat) bicep. "It's 'unnatural' in a way that makes me suspect Manus involvement in the police, whether directly or indirectly. Violence between humans and arcanists that doesn't involve the use of arcanum is typically local police responsibility first and foremost, and they're one of the main resources that the Field Agent administration relies on in each era." "Arcanists aren't always poor, are they?" "No." She shakes her head, brief. "There's several wealthy arcanist bloodlines based in Chicago, actually." "Madam Bellwhistle, it is a unique pleasure to get to see you again." Inside, among the other warm introductions, APPLe in particular elicits a wide smile from the wearier Bellwhistle. "Isn't it just? It's wonderful to see you again, Mr. APPLe." Doris hurries off into the side room after finishing up her call with a "Are you finished? Are you through?", unplugging a weird machine with a hiss of steam. Carrying a teapot-shaped metal bit over, she pours black coffee for each of you, along with a tray of sugar cubes-- it's far off from the quality of modern coffee, but what can you do. "It's such a delightful little gadget! Do they have these over in England, darlings? It makes coffee faster than anything; priced like it is, you wouldn't think they want anyone outside of New York having one, but I think we're deserving of a pinch of luxury, don't you? We certainly didn't have anything like this when I was a young girl!" She babbles, happily but with a nervous-talkative edge, doting over the Watch members as a matter of habit. "Thank you for the coffee, Doris," Vertin says, while taking a cup for herself, and laying her suitcase out on the table. "I hope you've all been well. Or...." She trails off with a faint frown about the same time that everyone spots the cracks in Bellwhistle's casing. "Did you get hurt? Ah... I could see if I can patch that up if you want." Bellwhistle makes a slightly forced smile at Odette, tugging the sleeve of her blouse down over the crack. "Oh, it's more of a artisan's diagnosis than a nurse's, but thank you. I'll just have to get it re-enameled once I've got a chance." She sighs, "Of course, the man who made my body passed several years ago. I've made do just by repainting scratches, but this repair will be a smidgen more involved." Vertin lowers her cup and looks around the room. "Would you like me to find one within the Watch? I don't imagine anyone here presently is an expert in arcane metalworking repairs, are we?"
Timekeeper	"... Mr. Pitts didn't do anything awful, did he?" "Oh, Mr. Pitts? No, no, no. I just..." While Bellwhistle is trying to elegantly evade answering, Margaret swivels around in her chair, popping up to storm over and link her arm through Bellwhistle's uninjured elbow huffily. "Some brutes took a swipe at her out their window while driving by! This rat trap of a neighborhood's gone crazy ever since a couple weeks ago, or something!" She grimaces, shaking her head a bit like a dog to re-poof her hair. "Not that Pigg's helping anything. All he's got to say about it is that Bellwhistle's welcome to work here around the clock if she's frightened by existing outdoors, as if she's being unreasonable." Bellwhistle sighs again, patting Margaret's head before shifting around her cables for another call. "Well, that's about the whole of it, yep. We've been monitoring calls around the city to keep a handle on all the rowdiness lately, but it's practically better to assume it's everywhere rather than not. Feels a bit like we're on our own out here these days." Vertin sets her cup down decisively. "I promise you; you're not." She leaves it there for a few seconds, before continuing a little less heatedly, "I'd rather start with your payment than your report, if it's all the same with you." Vertin slides the suitcase closer to herself. She unclasps it while saying an incantation that slips through your conscious mind as an incomprehensible jumble of phonemes, side-eyeing the communications-based Awakened to see if she's able to parse the words when no one else before has, but there's no response from Bellwhistle besides curiosity. Vertin puts her hand through the starry-black bottom of the suitcase, drawing out objects to lay across the table-- a rubber-banded stack of cash, medicine more futuristically familiar to Odette than to 1999s Earth, rolls of copper wire, and, of all things, boxes of diapers and baby formula. "A thousand American dollars, plus your other requests." "Oh! That's such a swell trick! It's magic, isn't it?" "Right. I may be an arcanist, but largely the only arcanum I perform regularly has to do with this suitcase." "Ooooooh, 'arcanum'! And 'American dollar's, you're just so adorable, I could swallow you right up!" "Alright." "Oh oh you have to be the best at this ever! Wait, did you secretly invent the switchboard?!" While Margaret separates the money out the money into five stacks with a little help from Doris ("Into five pieces, that's...." "Twenty bills of tens, dear."), Bellwhistle and Vertin are both enraptured by Ahn's excitement. Energetic babbling seems to lift her spirits quite a lot, especially about the thing that defines her entire existence. "Just the opposite, actually! I was 'invented' by the switchboard, if you put it that way. I'm actually in here, not the body," She smiles, shifting the switchboard in her arms around a bit. "Is that kind of thing common for you? Surveillance? Oh, my sorcery lets me connect to most of the phone lines of the neighborhood simultaneously, and route them to each other through my own switches, so I sure do get to listen in on a lot of conversations! It's not by choice necessarily, but it's enjoyable, I'd say." "Actually," She looks back at Vertin. "On the topic of who we're tracking, we kept an ear out around that address you mentioned. The Walden Bar, right? You were right, there's definitely a lot of shady people going in and out of there."
Regulus	Regulus gives Odette a small worried smile though odds are she's not worried about Regulus but ultimately it's a moment of a flicker rather than something that lingers everlong. Tamiel's offer of healing is a good idea if she's just hurt but she's not sure if this is injury or just plain exhaustion and her gut tells her it's the latter. ''Or because the city is hostile?'' "Could be both!" She chirps to Rita though, of course, most of the Foundation members she knows of have actually seemed pretty competent to her but she's still pretty leery of the Foundation in general. Regulus isn't exactly an expert in 1928 Chicago either, though her appreciation for the orgiins of rock probably mean she has some understanding of the music scene. That isn't exactly an informed analysis of the prohibition era and the various involved crime families. She's learned more about this era since arriving at it than she knew beforehand largely because she's been spending a good chunk of her time when she isn't doing silly bullshit to actually try and help Vertin out here. While motivated to help Vertin out in general, being made fun of on the radio is the sort of incentive that can't really be beat. She's the type to work harder when mocked not give up though that doesn't mean the work she's motivated to do is necessarily helpful. Fortunately, in this case, it seems to be! She's not hiding that she's british at all but it's probably her outfit that stands out a bit. ''Whoa really what?'' Regulus swings her hand to tap at her collar and opens her mouth to brag brattily but is interrupted by cap squishes and head rubs. "Ack...! Yeah, yeah, they'll be so embarrassed they'll hide in their offices!" Her face being red after that exchange indicates that her bravado is perhaps not as thick as she's letting on. She awkwardly readjusts her cap, and muses with her hair uselessly. ''You'll certainlyt show the Foundation how invaluable you are'' Oh no a critical hit from Vertin right as she's trying to recover from Ahn's encouragement! Regulus is a pretty self-confident lady but she's not really accustomed to having the confidence of others which may be part of the foundation (lower case) for her loyalty to Vertin. "Well you're positively brilliant, Vertin!" She manages. "With a captain like you at the helm, it's easy to do your best." Vertin suspects that Manus Vindictae is gumming up the works, particualrly with the police, but it does actually surprise Regulus a little that it's Manus Vindictae they might be taken in by and not the Foundation. Cops and arcanists don't usually get along, do they? Maybe because there's numerous wealthy bloodlines here? But it's still rough enough that the massacre still happened... ''It's wonderful to see you again, Mr. APPLe.'' "The pleasure is mine to have the company of a well mannered lady." Regulus bumps APPLe with her arm a little bit to maybe not get so into these frivolities while they're trying to learn what happened. ''This repair will be a smidgen more involved.'' "If it's just a refurbishment, I can lend a hand." Regulus says. "Or Mr. APPLe, really, he does a lot of maintenance work--"
Regulus	''Some brutes took a swipe at her out their window while driving by!'' "Those brutes!!" APPLe declares. #-1 FUNCTION (ANSNI) NOT FOUND she rubs at her shoulder. The wound has healed by now--it wasn't that deep to begin with--but it still aches periodically all the same. She quiets down for a bit afterward, nodding furiously whenever Vertin makes a declarative statement to lead extra oomph to them. She's totally willing to stand back and essentially act as a hype woman for the Timekeeper. ''I was 'invented' by the switchboard.'' APPLe remains quiet to avoid getting drawn into talking about his background (and his age). ''We kept an ear out around that address you mentioned. The Walden Bar, right? You were right--'' "Hell yeah! You lovely fab hero you!" Regulus shifts to being Bellwhistle's cheerleader for a moment. "Looks like all that hard work is paying off."
Timekeeper	"In the version of history where those arcanists all got shot...Did people care this much about what happened?" Vertin doesn't look entirely thrilled by Tamiel's topic of conversation or the implications she's making. Before entering the office, with her arms folded, she shakes her head in tiny increments. "Did humans riot for the sake of a half dozen murdered arcanists? No. But our records don't show that the Foundation of the era was helpless in deescalating further violence towards arcanists in the decade afterwards either." "The reputation of the Foundation is one that's inherently positive towards arcanists; which is largely where the local reluctance to cooperate with it arises from. That it demonstrates so through legal channels is a necessary tactic for the long-term stability of arcanist relations. I don't disagree with their methods; I just find it necessary to provide my own in addition." Inside, Margaret adds, flipping over a torn scrap of paper to write RUTH in big letters and set it on top of the medicine bottle, "Miss Evie and Ruth're doing alright. Just not a full-house hour right now. Ruth'll be here in... eight hours? For a shift before her school." "I brought my tools with me, actually!" Vertin shucks off her coat to fold it neatly over the back of the chair, folding her thighs over each other to twist around and look at Ahn. "Are you skilled with metalworking? I'm unsure if Tamiel's healing arcanum or Odette's medication would work, but simple tools might to repair the breakage at least." Her face shifts over to Bellwhistle for confirmation, who laughs breathily with a bit of disbelieving surprise. "Oh, I... guess so! If you don't mind, I don't mind you taking a crack at it! Just, gosh, you're all so... well, if Evie and Ruth were here, I'd say all the sweetest people I've met in my life were all gathered in one room."
Odette Raskins	"In lots of places the police don't care about the downtrodden, Ms. Odette," "They don't? But... Oh. I thought it was just a Company thing." Odette deflates a little after hearing that, but Rita raises a new point about Arcanist wealth that makes her even more puzzled. "Wait, yeah. A lot of this doesn't add up, if they're even not helping the rich Arcanists. They're the ones that would be paying the police the most, aren't they? Something's just not adding up here." "suspect Manus involvement in the police" "That's the only way it almost makes sense, but they're supposed to be on Arcanists' side, right? It just... It doesn't make sense that they'd make things worse for Arcanists and still say they're for Arcanists, unless.... M-maybe there's some kind of long game they're playing? I.. Guess?" Odette also watches Ahn and Regulus closely at the squimshing, taking particular note of Regulus' face during that. That puts a big smile on Odette's face, and thens he quickly looks away so as to not make it too obvious she's been staring. -- Taking a cup of coffee gratefully with a dangerous amount of sugar cubes (eight), Odette chuckles softly at Doris' hospitality and shakes her head, eyeing the teapot curiously even though she's totally seen something like it before. "Thanks, Miss Doris. I think I might've seen one before, but not at home. Whenever we make coffee at home, me and my parents just..." Wait, crap. How do people make coffee without a coffee maker again? It only takes her a moment to remember how she prepared some medicines in Elibe, and then she pantomimes holding a bowl in one hand and rotating something above it with her other hand. "Grind it up the old fashioned way and throw some hot water on top. It's pretty tiring, but it keeps my arms in shape for work." "artisan's diagnosis than a nurse's" "arcane metalworking repairs" "Darn. If we hear of anyone that can help-" Odette nods lightly at Vertin's suggestion. "-we'll make sure to send them your way. There has to be someone in our network that's done this sort of thing before, right? Or Miss Tamiel's healing..." She looks over at Tamiel curiously, stroking her chin after a moment. "Maybe... It wouldn't hurt to give it a shot, I hope? Er. Would it?" "I brought my tools with me, actually!" "I'm unsure if" "Oh, that's perfect! Thanks, Miss Ahn." Letting some of the tension go in her shoulders, Odette doesn't make it a secret that she's curious about seeing what she's able to do with whatever tools she's ready to bring out. She hasn't seen this kind of thing before, after all, so of course she wants to get a closer look at it. "I'm not sure if my stuff would help much since that's all chemicals and things, yes. But between the repairs and magic, maybe...?"
Odette Raskins	"took a swipe at her" Odette wrinkles her nose a bit more at hearing Margaret's explanation, taking a sip of her coffee before adding another sugar cube (#9). "That's awful... Hn. For things to get this much worse this fast..." Maybe her earlier guess wasn't so off the mark. She keeps that as an inside thought for now. "It really might be safer to stay in here for a while, but working around the clock is... Um. A little much, yeah. But... Maybe that's the only way he knows how to show he cares? There were a lot of folks like that back home on-in England." After another uncomfortable noise, Odette breathes out a relieved sigh at Vertin changing the topic to something far less unpleasant: Payment, Bellwhistle's state as an Awakened, and a new lead! The stack of bills just gets a blank stare from Odette when she can't mentally process how much that actually is between the conversion from 1920s money to credits to Company scrip, so she just smiles and nods politely about that before looking over to Bellwhistle's switchboard. "Oh, neat... That sounds like-" Wait. She's supposed to be from England or something, not from the future! "-eee it'd be real convenient. To.. Find leads, mhm! Or doing this kind of work, even if it is for Mister Pitts." She suggests, then raises an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name. "Walden Bar... Is that far from here? And shady how? Shady like gangster shady, or..." Odette scrunches her brow just a bit, just like how she saw some hard-boiled detectives did it in those movies she likes. "... Backroom deals shady?"
Rita Ma	"Some brutes took a swipe at her out their window while driving by!" Rita's hands creep up over her mouth, signing the 'poor Bellwhistle...!' she doesn't want to say out loud. Bellwhistle's clear on the level of being-fussed-over she desires, anyway. "That's horrible...! People who don't even know her?" (Rita is, in some critical ways, still a bit of a white girl.) She's a little uneasy about sitting while others are still at least nominally working, but does so; and a little uneasier still about being served black coffee ("Oh, I- ... um, nevermind. Thank you, Ms. Doris"). After toying with the sugar cube for a long while and staring into her reflection in the coffee's black surface, as if it were her shadow-nemesis she needs to overcome, she sliiides it over to Ahn instead. Ahn seems like a two-coffees kind of woman. "I think this is the most energetic I've seen you on a 'mission', Ms. Ahn. It's really nice," Rita says, prompting-to-notice the beverage. Familiar with her homeworld, she lowers her voice to add apologetically: "... Mr. APPLe's really not that scary, once you get to know him." Rita mentally tunes back in just in time to hear... "you're just so adorable, I could swallow you right up!" "Alright." ... which whistles by her like a semi-truck's passing breeze. She knows in the pit of her stomach that if she ever said that to someone, getting an 'Alright' would kill her dead on the spot. Older women really are made of tougher stuff. "... Did you get to work with him on how your body would look, Ms. Bellwhistle?" Rita says, while others move in to help. A kindred spirit!! "Most people don't get a chance to design how they look... I think that's really sweet." Smiling, aside: "... I think we're all in the Watch because we want to help. That's just how it is." "Oh, and, um, can you tell us anything about those 'shady people'? If they've been having anything to do with the police, then..." It's rarely so tidy, but she can hope. She eyes the medicine bottle silently, but now doesn't quite feel like the moment.
Vantablitz Remnants	'My estimate is that the local Foundation tends to be weaker in eras and areas with less sympathy towards arcanists, due to less funding and government willingness to work alongside a pro-arcanist bureau.' Ah. So it's like that. 'It's 'unnatural' in a way that makes me suspect Manus involvement in the police, whether directly or indirectly.' "That's what I was kind of afraid of hearing." Ahn says, disappointed, but neither shocked nor sullen. "You're not the kind of person who chooses words arbitrarily, are you?" Rhetorical question. "I guess we can be grateful they didn't control the police to do more violence. Or would that actually calm the humans down?" Ahn thinks about this out loud, idle-toned with a lightbulb moment at the end; then her eyes flick down and a deeply troubled frown crosses her lips just a second later. 'We certainly didn't have anything like this when I was a young girl!' Sat in an active workplace filled with electronic equipment, Ahn treats it like a cozy little living room; because it kind of is to her; settling herself in and trying very hard to pretend that she's never heard of a coffee drip. The reality is that, even at her rate of consumption, she's not going to run out of the dry stuff in CAMELLIA for another fifty years. The fact that it tastes weird is actually just a novel bonus here! She rocks back and forth even while seated, and paces around while standing, like this is a surprise sleepover. 'Oh, it's more of a artisan's diagnosis than a nurse's, but thank you.' "Um, I'm not a nurse. Haha . . . I don't know why you'd--" Ahn decides not to finish that sentence, and instead goes straight to unloading her backpack. The word 'enamel' triggers some sort of Directive Instinct in her. For no good reason at all, she does, in fact, at least have a soldering iron, forceps, mesh sifter, steel bristle brush, and a few other things short of pure aesthetics. It's hard to tell whether it's cobbled together or actually quite futuristic. Ahn switches on the iron first, cordless, set with aftermarket switches, and glowing blue at the tip. She turns back, realizes she has to take her hat off to get close for the brim, lobs it onto the chair, and says "Um, if you don't mind of course. I--" 'I don't imagine anyone here presently is an expert in arcane metalworking repairs, are we?' "Oh . . ." Ahn flicks the iron off again. "Arcane. Right. Silly me . . ." Of course she doesn't know magic! She sheepishly turns around to pack up the tools she'd just gotten out instead. "S-sorry for getting your hopes up." she says, as if anyone's hopes have been modified in any way. 'Some brutes took a swipe at her out their window while driving by!' "A swipe?" Ahn repeats, staring blankly back at Margaret. Trying to figure it out, she latches on to the words 'drive by' and suddenly startles. "They shot you?!" Ahn stares at Bellwhistle wide-eyed. 'All he's got to say about it is that Bellwhistle's welcome to work here around the clock if she's frightened by existing outdoors, as if she's being unreasonable.' "What?! That's-- Isn't that kind of a completely different thing?! Does he think she got groped or something?!" Ahn boggles all over again. "I mean even for an old guy doing power harassment at work, that's kind of insane, right?! It's not even about being mean and gross anymore; that's just-- hello this is planet Earth!"
Vantablitz Remnants	'Ooooooh, 'arcanum'! And 'American dollar's, you're just so adorable, I could swallow you right up!' Ahn has literally already seen the suitcase thing and still kind of gawks over it. She didn't even finish putting her tools away. She repeats "Arcanum?" searchingly, glancing between the faces in the room, and then nervously adds "What's it supposed to be called?" after, rubbing her cheek. It nicely resets her mood for . . . 'Is that kind of thing common for you?' "Oh no way! Well I guess my roommate is kinda--" 'Surveillance?' "What? Oh! Well, kinda? I keep tabs on stuff but I don't really-- Well like, people are always being surveilled anyways, right? The more people you see and hear and know what's up with them, the more you're kinda doing it unintentionally either way; it's just based on whether you're going to do anything with the information, or tell someone who is." 'Oh, my sorcery lets me connect to most of the phone lines of the neighborhood simultaneously, and route them to each other through my own switches, so I sure do get to listen in on a lot of conversations!' "Whoa . . ." Okay, so it's 'sorcery'. 'It's not by choice necessarily, but it's enjoyable, I'd say.' "Yeah, see, that's what I mean! You know all this stuff either way, because everyone just expects you to, so nobody even thinks about it, because it's 'just natural' right? So like--" 'On the topic of who we're tracking, we kept an ear out around that address you mentioned. The Walden Bar, right?' Ahn nearly squeals. There's a suspicious bar in Chicago where the phone spirit is tracking a conspiracy that the police are in on and-- "So the guys who started all this are there right?!" 'Are you skilled with metalworking?' Attention dragged four ways in the course of less than a minute, Ahn remembers she still has most of her tools out, and flashbangs herself in the process. "!" She rushes to retrieve the ones she put away again, then straightens them out twice. "I don't know about skilled, but I fix stuff up all the time, so . . ." 'Oh, I... guess so! If you don't mind, I don't mind you taking a crack at it!' "I don't mind at all! I don't just want to stand here with my hands in my pockets and nod along!" Ahn says, enthusiastically patting a seat for Bellwhistle. While the discussion goes on, she'll be leaning over her shoulder, engrossed in the small motions of soldering and micro-welding, plating and glass-powdering, though all she can really do with what she has on hand is join up broken metal and replace lost enamel with smooth white of roughly the same shade. It's not terribly sturdy, but it is, by a textbook definition, correct. Teeny tiny micro-inclusions of some other material make little dark blooms under the surface after a while, like acid etchings being revealed. They're entirely incidental and have to do with nothing except arcane energy running through the area rather than being blocked.
Vantablitz Remnants	'That's the only way it almost makes sense, but they're supposed to be on Arcanists' side, right? It just... It doesn't make sense that they'd make things worse for Arcanists and still say they're for Arcanists, unless.... M-maybe there's some kind of long game they're playing? I.. Guess?' "Isn't that really obvious?" Ahn says, trying to sound smart while sticking out the tip of her tongue and breathing solder fumes. "If you stir up the bad guys enough, the good guys who are on the fence about rebelling are finally scared and angry enough to rise up. So like--" She pauses. "--Well, it's the bad guys. But they're hijacking it, you know? Same basic idea." She gestures with her tools as she talks. 'I think this is the most energetic I've seen you on a 'mission', Ms. Ahn. It's really nice,' "Thanks Rita!" Ahn beams, without looking away. She even puffs out her chest. "It turns out that missions are, like, way less complicated than I thought! It's really nice to just walk in a direction and help the people there; and now they just tell me the direction to go!" She whispers back "I know, I know . . . It's just . . . Reminds me . . ."
Tamiel Luxis	Tamiel can sense Vertin's discomfort with the topic of how history changed--and the Foundation's role in it--and turns her head away, abashed. "...Sorry." She lets it shrivel away in the sun. "...They're making the world even more hostile to arcanists." Tamiel murmured, clenching her hands into fists at her side. "...In the hopes it'll drive more people into their arms. And. It'll even work, for a lot of people, won't it." Her thoughts turn to Flamel and White again, and her frustration turns to outright sulking. "...Course." 'Wealthy arcanist bloodlines' and Schneider's former mention of 'pureblood' bounce around in Tamiel's head for a moment, as she mulls things over. "...Do you think that any of those wealthier families might be tied up with the Manus?" Tamiel offers. "...It might make sense. If some of them with money, ask the police 'not' to interfere..." She takes a sip of the coffee, and struggles not to make a face. They're being polite! They're being nice! Keep drinking! Act grateful! "I'm unsure if Tamiel's healing arcanum or Odette's medication would work," "It depends on how integrated with her 'self' her body is..." Tamiel said. She holds a hand out over toward the damage. It's warm, in both a tangible way and ways that are hard to describe. "It doesn't work by manually mending body or bone...But, by trying to...mmm..." She looks up for a moment, frowning softly. "...Make real your idea of what being 'well' looks like?"
Regulus	''It doesn't make sense that they'd make things worse for Arcanists and still say they're for Arcanists.'' "People do that all the time, mate. Arcanists and humans." Regulus assures Odette. "Maybe they say it's for the greater good and all, maybe they'd say you gotta make things worse so people are ready to make things better. Protest may ruin a lot of people's days but you've still got the goal of making the world a better place. ''Status Quo''--if you feel the Arcanists are only getting worse and worse, you're gonna want to disrupt the system even if it makes people mad at you or people like you. You gotta rely on people's hearts in the end, that all that annoyance and disruption won't anger 'em more than their hearts soften after seeing the plight you are fighting for. Apathy's the starting point, love, that's why every movement's a fight and why every fight for peace and love is precious. Every person you inspire to fight is another comrade finding their rock and roll and making the world a better place. And every bureucrat you spook is one that will think twice before taking your freedoms away." Regulus catches Odette's big smile. This soothes Regulus some but she quietly wishes Odette could smile like that on her own. She seems content to let 'Ahn' take the crack at repairs since she's a little uneasy about using her skills on a ''person''. APPLe misses Rita standing up for him though he also misses why there's occassion for being stood up for. ''Most people don't get a chance to design how they look.'' "But you can do a lot to change your look for sure!" Regulus says, mostly thinking of the effect of fashionable outfits. ''She sheepishly turns around the pack up--'' Oh, Regulus thinks, so much for that. but then Ahn gathers the tools up again and Regulus adjusts her hat. "Well... maybe not their ''big boss'' since I hadn't heard of anything, but it seems to be the staging point for what they're doing right now."
Odette Raskins	"Isn't that really obvious?" "People do that all the time, mate." Odette blinks slowly at Ahn, signaling that she doesn't quite get it yet. It takes until she explains it outright, as well as Regulus spelling things out in further detail, that the EMT finally lets out a long 'ohhhh' complete with the rapid finger-snapping of comprehension. "Oh, oh! So like... Yes, making it worse to build up pressure? R-right, just them acting wouldn't be enough to move the needle, but if folks-er. People-" Wait, she's among friends. She can relax her language a little. "-keep getting scared and angry from stuff like what's been happening, then... Right. If that status quo's too awful for even regular people to stay put because protests aren't enough, then of course they'll get dragged into it eventually. and that gets the needle moving." She sounds really satisfied at first for possibly understanding, and then she deflates again a second later. "Oh. That stinks. The hijacking, I mean, even though it's it's smart. It really might work out that way if they're not stopped, too. If that's what it takes to make things..." She doesn't finish that thought aloud, but she does look considerably troubled just from having whatever it was crossing her mind. "It depends on how integrated with her 'self' her body is..." Odette blinks slowly at Tamiel as well, but there's not quite the same moment of maybe-sorta-getting it like there was earlier with Ahn's explanation. "Huh. That sounds like magic or... Something for sure, yes. Although now I'm kind of curious... May I, Miss Bellwhistle?" Odette holds up a medicated bandage and looks over at Bellwhistle with a questioning shrug. "Just to see if it works?"
Tamiel Luxis	"That sounds like magic or... Something for sure, yes." The smile Tamiel gives Odette is embarrassed. "Sorry...That's the root of a lot of things. Most of my stuff is about mindset, not like...You know?" She shrugs. Behind her, her shadow's arms wrap tight around itself and squats.
Timekeeper	"Grind it up the old fashioned way and throw some hot water on top. It's pretty tiring, but it keeps my arms in shape for work." "Mhhhm," Doris hums while sitting down with her coffee, rotating the packs of diapers to count add up how many there are total. "Saves just about five minutes to steep a batch this way, but five minutes every day isn't something to sneeze at. Once you've got children, you'll see how hard it is to find five minutes to yourself, hahaha." "They shot you?!" "People who don't even know her?" "For things to get this much worse this fast..." "Oh, no, no no," Bellwhistle flusteredly waves off that level of concern for herself. "Just stuck their arms out, and then I slipped on the ice. I'm more worried about what'll happen to the girls if folks start getting angry enough to target them for associating with me. I'm made of sterner stuff than humans are!" While Doris and Margaret both insist otherwise ("We can care for you too, you know," and "I woulda knocked their lights out for laying a hand on you,"), Bellwhistle makes yet another surprised noise at just how prepared Ahn is for exactly this thing. "Oh, thank you dear, just let me move this stool on over." Radiantly pleased in a way that doesn't show on her face at all, Vertin watches as Ahn unpacks and Bellwhistle settles down after dragging over a stool from the switchboard. "Regulus, would you mind giving Ahn your assistance? You're familiar with Awakened physiology." "... Did you get to work with him on how your body would look, Ms. Bellwhistle?" Bellwhistle smiles, staying perfectly still for Ahn to do her work. "Oh, yes. Him and his wife. Mr. Drucker was a machinist, and his widow is a painter; very very insistent that I didn't gain a body without a sense of dressing to go along with it. It's a blessing that Mr. Drucker came across me shortly after I gained consciousness as he did." Then, onto the matter of business, though Ahn's repairs will certainly take last some time through this conversation too. Bellwhistle seems just a little bit clumsy when it comes to the 'reporting' side of things, so Vertin takes the lead, leaning forwards in her chair. "When you say shady, how do you mean? Were there specific indicators of the Manus Vindictae?" "Mmm, partially, but other hints as well." Bellwhistle looks over to Odette with a little nod. "Well, the first thing is that it's a 'bar'. Everyone knows it, but there's still government meetings taking place at it regularly. Corruption's to no one's surprise, though, on its own." "The number of coded messages, not-so-vague allusions, and blatant cover-ups surrounding the place makes me certain that there's gangster activity there, besides just the bootlegging. And then a contact of ours," Left unnamed, on purpose, "Sent us this."
Timekeeper	She pauses dramatically, but can't get up because Ahn's still soldering her shoulder. "Er, Margaret, could you be a dear...?" "Oh! Yeah!" She pops up and hurries into the office, unlocking a safe and coming out with a couple sheets of letter paper. A pencil drawing sketches out the cross gripped by black hands that Forget Me Not was wearing at the Halloween party, and there's several overheard sentence fragments mentioning the Manus Vindictae that he said out loud scrawled down. Margaret slides them across the table, looking both overly anxious and overly proud of doing spy stuff. "Thanks, hun. That just about confirms it, right?" Vertin nods, leaning in to inspect the paper and lingering on the name Forget Me Not. "It does. Thank you. This helps more than you know." She looks up back at Bellwhistle, then scanning the other two as well. "As I warned before, the rise in hostility towards arcanists was engineered by this group. I have reason to believe that they've also infiltrated the police to ensure that they don't interfere; have you seen any evidence of that?" Bellwhistle's brow furrows. "I'm not sure off the top of my head, but I'll keep a look out." Margaret interjects with, "Maybe they're not interfering because they're too busy shoving donuts in their faces and jerking off in their cushy offices," and looks embarrassed right after. Vertin just responds with an ambiguous "Maybe." "...Do you think that any of those wealthier families might be tied up with the Manus?" "It's possible." Vertin nods. "Some of them are prominent donors to the St. Pavlov Foundation, so it doesn't seem likely, but we should be keeping aware for anything." "Actually, on the topic of bloodlines," Bellwhistle leans in, causing Vertin to direct her full attention towards her, sensing an important topic. "You came just in time for another detail. There's been plans for a protest at the Sotheby manor going around. People getting angry that an arcanist holds so much power in our city, like they've been given favoritism instead of the opposite. It sounds like the kind of thing that might turn violent?" "I see. That's very useful to know." Vertin takes a sip of her cooled coffee to think. "So it's not only that wealthy arcanists aren't exempt, but they're being targeted equally as hierarchical standouts. Are you aware of any Manus Vindictae involvement with the demonstration?" "None so far as I heard." "...Make real your idea of what being 'well' looks like?" "Just to see if it works?" Bellwhistle smiles at the two of them, interpreting the offers to help kindly, but with the air of patiently explaining something she's had to explain many times before. "Oh, thank you sweethearts, but there's really no need. It's just metal and enamel, it won't grow back like your skin does."
Regulus	''ohhhh. Oh, oh!'' Regulus is a little uncertain she (or Ahn, who said about the same thing) got through to Odette but Regulus is at the point where she's going to take this acknowledgement and nod along. The way Odette phrases it sounds right enough to her but she's been a little anxious since after the concert. ''She sounds really satisfied at first.'' Regulus perks hopefully. ''Then she deflates again a second later.'' Right as Regulus gets her hopes up she is stabbed in the back by thousands of arrows. She makes a face like she just saw someone make a tremendous leap to catch a flyball and instead jumped face first into the stadium wall. She runs her hand down her face, pushing her sunglasses forward as a result. She pushes it back shortly after. ''Regulus, would you mind giving Ahn your assistance? You're familiar with Awakened physiology.'' APPLe does seem pretty different physiologically to Bellwhistle but she does aside to Ahn, "Awakened are pretty tough so long as their core's intact." Though an uncertain look at APPLe suggests that she's not entirely sure what counts as APPLe's core. Is it his literally apple core? She is SO worried since APPLe has experienced a number of close calls even before the multiverse. ''Forget Me Not's slutty costume.'' "...You know, after seeing this Vertin, they might not be trying to hide so much from those who know how to look." Regulus frowns anxiously. "I don't think they'll be too shocked if a bunch of us drop by." It's a very striking costume! The kind people would talk about! And it's not subtle! Regulus jabs at the hands-gripped-cross with an index finger for emphasis. ''Sotheby manor protest.'' Regulus is unaware of how perfect Sotheby is. "I guess that makes sense." Regulus says. "Like the Tulsa massacre. Definitely emnity for the people who 'shouldn't have wealth' having wealth. If that kind of 'protest' goes bad--" She thinks of Druvis, too, actually, in this moment. "Well you get the idea."
Vantablitz Remnants	'Once you've got children, you'll see how hard it is to find five minutes to yourself, hahaha.' Ahn feels the weight of just how much time she wastes thinking about maybe starting to do the thing she's been thinking about for the past fourteen days sometime soon in the near future. It hurts. 'Oh, no, no no, just stuck their arms out, and then I slipped on the ice' Well she's not going to de-escalate her concern now. Ahn huffs so hard it puffs up her cheeks on the way out, grumble-muttering herself only as far down to "I'll try slapping them from out of the side of a car and see if they tell the cops 'oh no worries she only stuck her arm out officer'. And there's plenty of people with guns to go pick on in America anyways, so-- ugh I hate people like those!" Given a task to focus on, especially one both inherently mechanical and immediately helpful to someone else, Ahn quickly simmers down to agreebly nodding with Bellwhistle's stories and explanations, uttering an "Mhm mhm like you do." or cooing a "Oh he sounds nice." in the gaps between sentences as if she's on air with a time limit, all over the hiss and sizzle happening dangerous close to her bare fingertips and through the ozonic-metallic sting in her nose. She actually burns herself, slightly, but doesn't even seem to notice; coded messages and the words 'blatant cover-up' have resulted in her practically vibrating in excitement. 'Thanks, hun. That just about confirms it, right?' "Wow. You really weren't kidding . . ." Ahn says, trailing off only to sharply breathe back in and half-whisper "You're amazing . . ." in quiet awe. 'I have reason to believe that they've also infiltrated the police to ensure that they don't interfere; have you seen any evidence of that? Ahn finally looks up at Vertin, blinking at her questioningly. "What do we use the evidence for? We're not calling the cops to help us anyways right?" Oh you sweet dear. 'Oh, thank you sweethearts, but there's really no need. It's just metal and enamel, it won't grow back like your skin does.' "Aaaand done!" Ahn announces, proudly for some reason, then claps the hand not currently holding a slowly cooling soldering iron over her mouth; the one with the steel brush instead, which tastes like plastic and glass and makes her spit and hack for a few seconds. "I don't know how long it'll stay on. The guy who did it first is way better than me. If you're rough with it, it'll probably wear down pretty fast, but the, um, technique, I used, should handle gentle repetitive wear without degrading. Please still get it looked at, okay?" 'Maybe they're not interfering because they're too busy shoving donuts in their faces and jerking off in their cushy offices' Ahn just n snorts really loudly. She goes to cover her mouthy again, reflexively chooses the hand that doesn't taste awful, claps the flat stylus of the iron across the lips, and stabs the still-quite-hot tip into the underside of a flower petal on the side of her head. She yelps, drops the iron, crunches herself over like she'd been kicked in the gut instead, and wiggles around in a circle wringing both hands and whining several non-verbal swear words, before she bends down to pick it up again. "U-um . . ." Ahn is blushing now, and thus must try to move the conversation along. "Do you know, like, the passwords and stuff? To get in." She clears her throat. "From what you girls know, what would be the easiest way to get into the Walden ourselves?" There! Smooth!
Odette Raskins	"Saves just about five minutes" "Mhm, mhm... Although some of the regulars would probably insist on doing it this way, anyway." Odette comments with a slightly nervous laugh at Doris mentioning children, idly counting those diapers as well. "Y... Yeah! I guess I will some day. N-not anytime soon while all this is going on and I've still got all my training and stuff to do, but... One day! Maybe." "Corruption's to no one's surprise" Even if no barbs were meant towards anyone in here, Odette still feels just a little stab from being so blind for so long. Something about that still confuses her, though, due largely in part to what little she knows of station politics back home. "If the government people in charge really wanted to hide whatever it is they're doing, wouldn't it make sense to do it in their own offices where nobody can get in without their say so? A bar feels so... Open, where anyone could see them or take a swing. O-or worse." Another sip of her coffee, and Odette shivers before adding in another sugar cube (#10). "Like these coded messages and cover-ups, mhm. It just feels... Super weird, like they're not even trying to cover their tracks. Unless those government people are also already in Ma-oh." That part's finally clicking, too. "That just about confirms it, right?" Taking a look at Bellwhistle's letters, Odette's eyes lock onto the drawing of the hand-gripped cross and the suspicious sentences, and then she nods along with Vertin. "That sure does, yes. If the Manus has people in the government and the police, then making sure all this stuff goes wrong in the right way for them just becomes so much easier." Odette sighs lightly, then takes the last sip of her coffee right when Margaret speaks of donuts and wanking. She sputters as one would expect, then coughs several times and smacks her chest a few times at Vertin's dry 'maybe'. She's recovered by the time Bellwhistle speaks of a protest at a manor, and Odette wipes up the sides of her cup quickly before setting it aside on top of a napkin. "It sounds like a good spot for things to blow up, mhm. I-I mean, it's a bad spot, but it'd be good for the Manus because-yes, what Miss Vertin said. Have the Sothebeese ever said anything about their stance on all this stuff going on?" Odette pauses for a moment, letting the thought develop a little more in her mind. "I-I'm just wondering if maybe... Maybe the Manus might want to bring them in as allies or go even further and turn them into martyrs." She chews on the inside of her cheek briefly, then nods at Regulus. "Yeah... Yeah. I guess that's where we should look next, then?"
Tamiel Luxis	Tamiel tries to not look put out by being denied a chance to try to heal--and so she only slightly pouts. If she believes that, it wouldn't work anyway...Like trying to heal a false leg. Or a wheelchair... "This is good work." Tamiel says, approvingly, leaning forward as Bellwhistle pulls out her picture. "...That symbol. Clasped by two black hands...That's definitely the Manus. Or at least inspired by them..." "And if they have an in with the mafia...I believe they had a lot of influence with the police...Or, at least knew how to buy them off?" Tamiel was proud of herself! She'd done some basic reading! True intelligence work. Maybe they're not interfering because they're too busy shoving donuts in their faces and jerking off in their cushy offices. Tamiel holds a hand to her face, while her shadow looks to either side, as if to check for any cops who might be listening in to burst through the door and arrest her for giggling--Only to leap up, alarmed, when Ahn burns herself. "A-ah!" Denied her chance to try to be helpful with Bellwhistle, she turns her hands on Ahn instead. "Hold still please..." She immediately tries to heal any burns, her hand radiant that same soft, warming, mending light.
Rita Ma	"Yeah! I knew you could handle it, Ms. Ahn. Rita fishes around in her windbreaker's pockets, fortunately finds some paper and a pen, and starts hunching over it to scribble some notes. A crude sketch of the cross-with-hands appears at the top right. - ask about ruth's medicine? - gov meetings w/ manus vindictae - who? close to police? - Sotheby manor protests - protesting what? - lotus is her 'roommate'? - arcanists feel foundation works for them? She glances up and adds: - creamer for miss tammy - apple's c/// "Ms. Ahn!!" Rita startles up, scribbling the paper a bit, and hustles to her side to near-hug it anxiously. "Oh, no, your lotus-thing... I'm so sorry. Is it, um, are you damaged? I mean, hurt?" She can do a little for it, she hopes... Patting Ahn on the back anxiously, she looks back over at Bellwhistle and Vertin to nod: "That's really helpful, though. I think it'd be helpful to try to keep tabs on what government officials are coming and going from the Walden in particular, and if any of them are close to the police. And we'll try to have people at the Sotheby protests too, in case those... um... turn out violent." Stopping people from being violent at a protest outside a rich person's house feels really really weird. Wough. Keep it together, Rita. "... Um, why does everyone keep saying 'bloodline' instead of 'family'? Does that mean something special, here?"
Vantablitz Remnants	'Ms. Ahn!!' "I'm fine! I'm fine!" Ahn squeaks back, high-pitched, clearly stifling down the wiggles until the impulse fades. 'Oh, no, your lotus-thing... I'm so sorry.' "It's-- not a big deal!" Ahn wheezes, breathing one more time as the flinch reflex smooths out. "It's barely even burnt. And I can just--" 'Is it, um, are you damaged? I mean, hurt?' Ahn chokes off the end of her sentence. She'd go pale if she could. "N-no. Huh? It's just . . ." She can't really think of anything to say. Ahn laughs nervously. "You're so sweet, Rita. You even think of little things like this." She stops to clear her throat and straighten up at Backpats.
Timekeeper	"...You know, after seeing this Vertin, they might not be trying to hide so much from those who know how to look." Vertin frowns, fingers splayed on the sheet of paper with the drawing. It doesn't have a particularly clear image of the costume as a whole or Forget Me Not's face, just the cross and then the general shape of the outfit, so it seems clear that the person drawing it was informed of the symbolism that Vertin told Bellwhistle about. "It's possible. I can't say at this moment whether this is their habit or not--" Because doing so means mentioning 'different eras'. "But I wouldn't be so sure of anything. The Manus Vindictae is a typically clandestine organization, to the point that they might consider it unheard of for someone to recognize their insignia by happenstance. This was only possible because of the assistance that Bellwhistle and the office have given us." "That is to say, we'll prepare as if they know we're coming, and take advantage of the opportunity as if they don't." She pinches the edge of the paper, lifting it slightly off the table, then looks up at Bellwhistle. "Do you mind if I take this?" "You're amazing . . ." After shaking her head at Vertin, Bellwhistle giggles lightly at Ahn. "Flatterer. You're the one carrying around an entire toolbox, ready to drop anything to help. You're a right lifesafer, dear." "We're not calling the cops to help us anyways right?" "No, but it's critical to know which factions we can rely on, and which we have to be particularly mindful of." Not talking about the Foundation makes this explanation slightly more difficult, but Vertin figures it's adequate and true enough anyways. "If the police are uninvolved and simply sedate or distracted, then we may be able to utilize them to our advantage by exposing criminal behavior to apply pressure to the Manus Vindictae. If the police are involved, then we'll have to assume that every interact with them is hostile from a baseline." "A bar feels so... Open, where anyone could see them or take a swing." "Alcohol is illegal in the United States," Vertin helpfully supplies to Odette. "The extent of the corruption could be as simple as being willing to look the other way for their arcane bootlegging, so that they can indulge in it themselves. Whether they're involved in the Manus Vindictae itself... accepting their bootlegging is the first step, but not necessarily a complete alliance."
Timekeeper	"Please still get it looked at, okay?" Bellwhistle gasps and swivels her arm around once Ahn is done, touching a finger to the repaired part with a soft t-tik. "Oh... this is wonderful. Thank you, dear, I will." She moves her arm around some more to test the tolerance, mood visibly lightening. It doesn't seem like it hurt in a way that persisted, but the damage was definitely making her unhappy, like acne or lingering scars. "Have the Sothebeese ever said anything about their stance on all this stuff going on?" Hoisting her switchboard and standing up to pace around energetically, Bellwhistle has a quick answer for Odette. "Nothing in the last month, at least! He's out of the country, apparently. I don't know if they're hoping to find something at the manor, but it seemed like their main goal was to 'send a message' that the family's unwanted here." Then Ahn sticks a soldering iron onto her face, and Bellwhistle and Doris both gasp and hurry over to fuss over her, while Margaret admires Tamiel's use of magic, remarking that she's never seen magic used besides Bellwhistle's. Bellwhistle crouches to nab the soldering iron to pick it up, with the previously-injured arm, before Ahn does and hand it back to her. "I had to test the strength of the repairs, you know." Coming back a moment later with ice from the icebox wrapped in a towel, and standing back until Tamiel's healing is done, she holds it up for Ahn with a smile. "Ah, how selfish of me to be grateful for an opportunity to help someone who helped me~"