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Priscilla     The place chosen to hear out the weirdos isn't the typical conference room, private suite or office, or reserved hall. This seems to come less as a matter of lacking respect so much as an immediate practical concern that sitting around a mahogany table and sipping gourmet coffee wouldn't assuage.

    The small collection of concerned individuals appears to be allowed to convene in a building immediately adjoining the Aether Hub itself. Though a somewhat sparse and muted environment of utilitarian layout, otherwise spartan accommodations manage to find ways to gild themselves up in swirling veneers of glittering metal and festoon themselves with banisters, reliefs, and high arched windows well above climbing level.

    Personnel move to and fro, past the visitors on the way in, carrying exotic tools and huge components of baroque gearworks, but it's difficult to imagine them in an industrial capacity. With the early daylight streaming through slightly tinted glass and making every other surface gleam and glitter, there is a storybook sort of fantastical air to it, as if the next number in the musical is waiting for a certain cue from a burly man in a shining worksuit and the refrigerator-sized astrolabe strapped to his back, or perhaps the stocky dwarf woman traversing the upper halls atop a cargo platform floating on scintillating butterfly wings.

    They eventually wind up at a central room a little less populated than the rest, owing to the lack of hands-on work to be done. Circular in nature, with consulate banners hanging from the vaulted ceiling, with an inaccessible second floor providing a panoramic city view, and ornamented with five gargantuan statues something like golems equidistant around its perimeter, the main feature seems to be a sprawling table that is host to an incredibly detailed sculpture of Ghirapur's urban planning made out of what be at least a ton of gold. What might be control panels or monitoring stations elsewhere around the room are effectively indistinguishable from work benches or large industrial implements, given this city's aesthetic.
Priscilla     The blue-skinned, finely dressed, dispassionate looking Dovin Baan awaits them there, of course, but alongside an aged, tanned, and moustached human man in royal purple and gilded gold, wearing a white coat and high cap, and an ostensibly middle-aged dwarf with bushy mutton chops, an astonishingly purple ascot in the middle of his otherwise utilitarian attire of red and beige, and with a pair of multifaceted goggles still sitting high up on his head.

    The air given off by the three couldn't be any more different. Baan is so cool and collected that one could almost mistake it for being bored, if his off-red eyes weren't basically like lasers on each thing he chooses to meticulously look at in turn. The older man has about five different signet rings on, a dour and unpleasant expression, and smells strongly of some kind of cologne or shaving oil of the sandalwood kind. The dwarf isn't looking at anything in particular except 'up', thoughtfully chewing on a pair of brass model forceps like a straw, which must be thoroughly unpleasant to taste, even if he does already reek somewhat of recently burnt solder. The former appears to strongly dislike the latter's habit, just guessing by the dagger glares that shoot across the table to no avail.

    It's indicative of the spirit of Kaladesh, in a sense, that rather than sitting around somewhere cushy and having someone call in catering to provide obligatory high-class hospitality to guests, the first thing is having everyone immediately stood around a diagram in three dimensions and surrounded in the trappings and bustling activity of artificers. That's what serious business is here, not boardroom talks.

    Baan starts up with his smooth tones just slightly too assertive to be deemed 'assistant-esque'. "Now that we've all gathered but for one, I will endeavour to make introductions quick. I am Minister of Inspections, Dovin Baan. The man to my right is esteemed Consul Kambal. To my left, Chief Edificer Sram. The former sees to Consulate directives concerning distribution. The latter is the head architect of the Aether hub you stand in now. I am the one responsible for the inspection and assessment of all newly developed, patented, or confiscated artifice. I assume the choice of officials today is both obvious and satisfactory. I'd like any plans or concerns first."
Thomas Alva Edison     A rather large...man has come with the rest of the other represenitives. Thomas Alva Edison, is...anything but the man that many worlds would regonize. First off, and probably most importantly...

    His head is a white lion. It is a white lion's head that emotes, and has facial expressions as any human head would, except that it is a white lion, with a luxurious mane. His body is muscular, covered in blues and reds, with the flag branching out on either side of his body. On his chest rests a gold object, that seems connected to his chest, while on his shoulders are two bulbs, connected seemingly directly to his body.

    His hand reaches towards represenitive of this world in turn, shaking their hand (if they do so) with a firm grip. "Thank you for your hospitality, I am Presiking, Thomas Alva Edison. I have been told there was a murder, and I have come to personally lend you my aid. Especially with the oddity of this ice that is not ice..."
Yuuki Kuran Since it is a Meeting for Business, Director Kuran comes dressed for business. Where before she wore a sort of jacket-vest as sleeves, today she arrives in a dress of twinkling white, whose fabric spilled over her feet and brushed against the ground in a pool that ephemerally drifted across the ground without picking up dirt or marring, and a tasteful half-crown tiara in tones of iced platinum and diamond. Long white gloves clung past the elbow and flared out near her biceps.

She approached the table with eyes of muted, professionally allowed wonderment at the surroundings of grand artifice and gilded practicality, her arms clasped behind her back as she drifted up to the table on the soft 'pat pat pat' of bare feet on stone and metal.

"Minister. Esteemed Consul. Chief Edificer. Thank you for meeting with us and the speed of your response to our inquiries. I am Director Yuuki Kuran, of the Concord. This..." She gestures to her flanks, or wherever he chose to lurk. "Is my bodyguard and..." She brings up a finger to touch her lips thoughtfully. "He is my most trusted advisor on matters of problems and the solving therof." She decides.

"I have here a proposition for a mutually beneficial solution to your power consumptive needs and the 'dark' sectors of Ghirapur, but there is also the matter of the Renegades and any other... Stability concerns you have."
Zero Kiryu The best that can be said of Zero Kiryu's demeanor and mood is that he /might/ just suffer some sort of chronic pain. He hovers between agitated tension and carefully collected, swaying back and forth like a pendulum and changing subtly based on when somebody is looking at him. All of this would be fine, if not for the fact that he's not here on the hunt. He never was much of a diplomat, and even when he was asked to play nice within the Hunter's Association he did so only reluctantly. But only to pass the time while waiting for somebody to slip up and give him an excuse.

Here, and now...

Zero glances sidelong at Yuuki as she introduces him. A flat look of momentarily annoyance -- or perhaps merely a normal look from him, it's hard to tell -- flickers across his features. He amends her introduction, "Zero Kiryu."

He snorts in amusement at something -- a private joke, perhaps -- and lapses back into quiet observation.
All-Seeing Eye      A deep red satin, waist-length overcoat is hung upon the back of a Paladin. Said Paladin strides confidently into the circular room, dressed in a cream-colored three-piece suit. Tailored perfectly to fit his svelte form, it's complemented by a dark sienna tie and an imacculately pressed strawberry shirt. This Paladin's posture is as bold as his wardrobe, hands casually stuffed into his pockets. The early morning daylight filtering in from the second floor catches the coat resting upon him, setting the shiny fabric to glimmer here and there. Upon seeing the dwarf, he slips a warm brown hand beneath his braided hair and flips it behind his back with a frown.

     "Well, this won't do," says All-Seeing Eye, upon noting the similarities in their choice of colors. "I don't suppose you'd allow me time to change?" The Exalt shoots a pointed look at Dovin Baan, then the dwarf. He places a finger upon his lip, golden eyes briefly darting upwards. Whatever thought he entertained seems to fall flat. With an airy, disappointed sigh, he waves a hand. "Never mind." The overcoat is hung upon whatever surface will keep it from wrinkling, most assuredly with more care given to the garment than to whatever function of the room is obscured by it.

     "I am All-Seeing Eye, Warden of the Paladins and head of Public Security. I am responsible for the maintenance of law and order with regards to politically sensitive theaters." With a hand upon his abdomen, he offers a curt half-bow to Dovin, the Consul, and the Chief Edificer. When Edison gives his explanation, Eye, at least, doesn't balk at the fact that he's giving it as a lion. He's seen weirder.

     "My chief concern at this time is the expedient apprehension of the Consulate murderer. The longer they go free, the less faith your people will have in you--and so on, and so forth." He rotates his hand in a 'you know what I'm getting to' sort of way. "I'd like to staunch the bleeding quickly, in other words. From there, I can assist in handling this little Renegade problem of yours, as Director Kuran has said." He offers the director a convincing facsimile of a warm smile.

     Turning his attention back to Dovin, he opens with a pointed question. "Why was no mention made of the undersea enclosure beneath the victim's office?"
Priscilla     Thomas is pretty weird as far as things go, but not quite weird enough for someone at the table to make a remark about it, not even the dwarf, Chief Edificer Sram, who very visibly raises an eyebrow and twiddles on his forceps between his teeth like he expects it to puff cigar smoke at any minute. Kambal seems mostly interested in him going by 'presiking', not doing a very good job of hiding the mental arithmatic as to whether a presiking outweighs a consul or not. Baan shows no outward signs of anything but cool composure.

    The others are more along the lines of what one would expect, though frankly it's difficult to tell Ghirapur formal dress from Ghirapur anything else dress, considering the incorrigible spirit of artisanry in every sector of craftsmanship, so it's rather difficult to compare. Sram chuckles in one of those ways that removes the s because it is precisely one chuckle. "Doef it 'ook 'ike I mind what dreff you're wearin'." he says, before finally deciding to take the little brass pliers out of his mouth.

    Yuuki can sense a wave of petty relief from Kambal. She can sense nothing in particular from Baan.

    "Indeed, there are two purposes to this meeting, which is why I arranged for two branches of Ghirapur's central administration to be present in addition to myself." says the aforementioned Minister of Inspections. "On the subject of the criminal action in question, we have turned over all information we deem prudent to the no doubt capable hands of your people, however Consul Ismel is entitled to a full funeral service, shortly upcoming. 'Closed casket', of course. With the conclusion we have drawn so far, we do not intend to leave this 'investigation' open indefinitely."

    Sram privately thinks 'stanch the bleeding' is a grimly hilarious choice of words. Kambal is mentally put ill at ease. Baan is Baan.
Priscilla     "We have clearly ascertained that the Renegade faction does not have access to anything close to that which would be needed to accomplish such a murder. It would also be extremely unlikely for them to possess enough material wealth or bargaining leverage to hire an outside assassin. Criminal enterprises do exist within Ghirapur, as with any city of note, but to not to the extent this should be possible on their own terms. Internally, there is little more our investigative branches have left to turn up, save perhaps some connection to any particular organization specialized in the movement of external goods and contacts."

    He then looks to All-Seeing Eye with a weird and slightly blank expression. "I am aware of no such construction beneath Consul Ismel's very robust office." Baan looks to Sram, who shrugs and says "Right over the fifteenth floor atrium, as I recall." He looks to Kambal, whose moustache twitches uncomfortably. "We at the consulate aren't quite so lax with our zoning regulations."

    None of them particularly seem as if they're lying. Baan is Baan so it's kind of hard to tell either way, but it seems like a silly and easily investigated thing to fib about.

    "I am very much interested in hearing what Director Kuran apparently has to say about our current power distribution issues." he smoothly continues. Sram interjects to say "Yeah. Step one: stop letting the Grand Consul send letters directly to my people. Let the technicians in allocation do what they're supposed to be doing." Kambal audibly growls. "I would advise you hold your tongue about the Grand Consul, Chief Edificer. An order is an order and head architect or not, it isn't your place to gainsay or second guess what the city needs most." Sram rolls his eyes.

    "The Renegades are not currently a critical security concern when viewed in light of the Consulate's ability to continually function." Baan continues over them, interrupting both without raising his voice. "Even considering recent escalations, they primarily pose the problem of disruptions to city service and engineering infrastructure. Our issue of order with them is that our upcoming Inventor's Fair is more than likely to draw their attention as a target of one of their political demonstrations, and no doubt encourage those elements that aided them last time. Considering I have been informed of an unregistered pyromancer among them, this is more likely to create an uncontrolled panic in a difficult to police area filled with experimental and unpredictable technology, rather than sway hearts and minds."
Thomas Alva Edison     Edsion weathers the infighting well. He was, after all, summoned at a time when congress couldn't come together and decide WHO would best defend america. Formed by the malformed wish, he was the result...but at the same time, consuls not getting along, was something of a common thing even in his day. Large hands are placed behind his back for now, allowing the storm to blow for a bit...it was not his home, not his world, and not his affair.

    Is what he should think, but there was something about this whole thing that seemed...dangerous. "Gentlemen," He says, with a humble, but deep voice. "Let us focus on the matter at hand, and right now let us also not make any preconcived conclusions, should we miss sight of the truth."

    "With your permissions, I would like to go over the evidence with a field team. The ice, in particular, is of interest to me based on what was described. If I can not bring it to the lab, than I shall bring the lab to it!" he declares, but moves on, "If this was done for political reasons, and they have someone that can sneak into places they should not be able to get...one might also be worried that any one of them could be next? For now, an old phrase from a dark time in the history of my land comes to mind 'A house divided can not stand.'" Edison continues, a statesman he apparently is at heart. "It is also, one might also want to know who the deceased enemies were. Every clue, perhaps no matter how minor should be left unchecked.
Yuuki Kuran Kuran Yuuki smiles "professionally" kindly, the sort of empty and polite upturn of the lips that was practiced by royalty and Customer Service Professionals alike. She favors each of three Consulate speakers as they speak, and inspects the beautiful model of the city with a feather-light touch as she awaits. The news of the Murder gets an interested pause, and Yuuki listens to Eye's details with a clear interest, her hands 'inspecting' the same bits of the scale model repeatedly as she pays attention to the words and not the brasswork artifice.

"My condolences again for your loss. The looming of a grand event - a unifying moment for the people of Ghirapur and Kaladesh in general, if I understand - means that security must be tight... And also, a moment where change can occur organically. Where a new invention wouldn't send the wrong messages."

Her touch leaves a melodic ring along the edge of a miniature astolabe or aether spire in the model. "Which is a problem of the Renegades. Their needs and their cause, just or not, pleasant or not, needful or not, cannot be given into, cannot be answered. You cannot give a dissenter what they want, unless they are asking in such a way that is positive. If they peacefully protested and wanted reasonable, fixable things, then it would be simple. Their thievery and dissent, however, cannot be validated."

"Thus, the two steps to my proposal is quite simple. The Renegades must be crushed, and, ideally, their leader captured - ahead of the Inventor's Fair. Then, at their lowest point..."

She taps a finger against the edge of the gilt table. "I have multiple proposals from top elite minds and others available upon retainer about a non-Aetheric power solution for quality of life needs of the people. In addition, there are a half-dozen opening bids for the raw materials to be imported by firms in high repute to make it happen upon short notice. Of course, a city of artifice would require a bespoke solution, so I have taken the liberty of sending Concord agents to ascertain the precise needs from our end as well, who've shown interest in the flourishing of your city. With a non-Aetheric power solution for living quality-of-life, Chief Sram, you would not have such a headache with power budgeting, able to devote one hundred percent of reserves to invention and state projects. Debuting this at the fair would be a huge political win, and you can have it out of the consulate's good heart, rugged industrialism, and keen pragmatic eye, Consul Kembal. And, of course, with Minister Baan's approval, any power solution would be respected as a product of a Consulate deal, not some validation of rebel activity."

She crosses her arms, her smile a bit more genuine, her posture assured. "And of course, since my proposal involves crushing the Renegade movement ahead of the roll-out, the services of Mister Kiryu are of course offered, as an expert in cordons, chases, and smoking out... unwanted elements from their holes."
Zero Kiryu For the longest time, Zero lingers in silence. He's not here to be a diplomat like Yuuki is. And yet... and yet there is something that displeases him, and catches his attention. The exchange between Kamal and Sram elicits a change in posture, a lasting indecision as to whether or not he should interject. It's not until Yuuki is done with her own proposal that he decides it's best if this gets explored before things move forward, even if it doesn't come to anything in particular.

"How and why are your technicians being interfered with? How would the situation be different if they were allowed to act without restraint?" He asks, bluntly.
All-Seeing Eye      Eye runs a hand across his cheek, then shrugs. Sram's point on dress is taken.

     The apparent confusion about Ismel's office draws a slight smile. "Rest assured, gentlemen, my name isn't a misnomer." He taps an index finger to his temple. Though their confusion seems genuine, he's no less thorough in his scrutiny of their faces (and heartbeats) when the next detail is shared. "This atrium was filled with water, and inside that water, humanoid beings waiting but inches from the surface. Chevalier Morrison and I both felt as though we were being watched, when we ventured too close to the late Consul's office."

     He makes a show of wandering around the conference room, pretending to take interest in its various terminals. His fingers gingerly drag across extravagant decorations. This is all a front to observe the three without giving them the idea they're being watched. Edison gets a brief glance and a nod of approval. Without turning to face him, Eye replies, "Quite right." It does seem unusual that none of the officials here are concerned about their own safety, doesn't it?

     In the midst of pretending to admire one of the golems on the second flor, Eye turns and looks over his shoulder. "You know," he begins curtly, a hand placed upon his chest like a town gossip. "I know you said you won't keep the investigation open for long, I do." He turns once more, pretending to be taken in by one of the finely woven banners. "But I just /have/ to agree with dear Thomas, here. An esteemed Consul was killed in broad daylight, above an aquarium previously believed to be an atrium, in the very seat of his authority, the highest-security facility in an entire city of genius inventors."

     He holds a hand before his face, checking his nails. "Why, the handprint on his face, and his complete lack of any attempt to leave, suggest an instantaneous and incredibly destructive attack by an invisible and very possibly soundless attacker."

     With another look over his shoulder, he offers the three officials a wan smile. "Now... whether the Renegades did it or not, it presents a grave threat to stability. I saw your little secrets on the way here, friends. The odd house without power, and so on." He wrinkles his nose at them. "Your problem children, no?" He turns fully now, offering a warm chuckle and a shake of his head.

     "What reason do they have to fear their parents, if you can't stop so brazen an attack as this? You say the Renegades didn't do it, and that's fine... but the threat to stability posed by Ismel's murder is the same whether they did or not." With a nod to Baan, he adds... "They're not /currently/ a concern. But if you fail to enact consequences for their dissidence, I can guarantee you they /will/ be. Especially with this little exposition coming up. Oh, you can definitely count on my assistance for that!" He giggles melodiously, finally wandering back to the table.

     "Personally, I think the good Director has the right idea. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, as they say!" He merrily swings a closed fist across his stomach in an affirmative gesture. "Speaking of," he says. "You three seem remarkably calm, considering the implications of an undetectable political assassin on the loose. And you're quite eager to return to business as usual!"

     His merry demeanor fades slightly. Intentionally. "You must have quite the protective measures in place, to return to your duties with such confidence. Truly, you are a credit to your respective stations."
Priscilla     Zero's question is answered in short order. With a grunt, Sram reaches under the huge model table and flips a switch somewhere that lights it up. Pulsing blue lines and LEDs blink into existence over the perfectly scaled filigree, while the backlight keeping the table bright and gold goes out. It provides what is very obviously a live map of Aether distribution in the city even before Sram explains that it is.

    A large portion of it is a steady, ocean blue, but most government buildings are a gleaming azure, and the Spire in particular is almost blindingly cyan. Other portions are dim as a starlight night sky, or even completely dark, in partially sensible but sometimes seemingly random order.

    "This here is our current Aether distribution flow for the whole city. Aether collectors are huge and costly things to build, so the city has a budget and emergency reserves. Allocation is damn boring, but at the end of the day, ideally everyone gets enough to be happy. Just look at it right now and you can see some people aren't getting nearly enough, and look at it for more than a second and you can see right where it's going. Allocation doesn't make those calls; we get executive meddling from on high, claiming that-"

    Kambal abruptly interrupts in a gruff, extremely firm tone of voice. "Power is being taken from underutilized districts. Distributing Aether equitably to all areas of the city inevitably results in waste in less inhabited or intensely worked-on areas. Right now, with the upcoming Inventor's Fair, and certain projects of extreme importance under the direct supervision of the Grand Consul, our Aether distribution must be thoroughly optimized to ensure that we are able to meet certain deadlines. Where else would you expect requests for redistribution to come from?" Sram starts chewing on his forceps again. "Yeah, I bet it waf 'underutilifed' to 'tart wif. Don't tell me 'ome of thofe placef ain't just on your fitlift." It takes Kambal a couple of seconds to figure out what 'fitlift' means, and then he scowls quite intensely. "If you wish to speak, speak in a professional and /hygeinic/ manner, Chief Edificer."

    The Consul is clearly unhappy and takes some pleasure in looking down on the dwarf, but he's partially bluffing. He has little idea of what 'certain projects and deadlines' actually are, and Sram more likely has a better idea of their shape and size just from his at-a-glance mastery of the Aether Hub's map.

    Baan does his thing and immediately cuts between the two, probably just as Sram is about to say 'make me'. "If this is a matter of grievance you believe to be only resolvable with the Grand Consul's input, I will make time to ensure that these concerns, especially in light of the 'altered circumstances of the Renegade threat', are brought to him in an equitable and agreeable light." Both Sram and Kambal raise eyebrows at the same time, for different reasons. "Of course, as Minister of Inspections, it will be my duty to thoroughly assess the worthiness of your suggested interim solution before input, and judge it worthy or not to be presented as something for Ghirapur's citizens to rely on."

    Baan's statement is absolutely neutral and his face is an unreadable mask. Kambal seems to interpret it as thinly veiled rejection and takes on some smugness from it. Sram seems to take it as mere lip service screening an self-evidently good idea and has no doubt Baan will pass it. Both of them have mutually exclusive, favourable opinions of his rhetoric.
Priscilla     When matters turn to the assassination again, Baan takes on a much more firm, unambiguous stance. "You are entirely free to see the fifteenth floor atrium for yourself, Warden. I believe your report is instead highly indicative of the type of magic or ability used in the killing, and I would like to add it to record, along with any visual capture you may have of the phenomenon." After further urging, he reaches into his tailored suit, and with a hiss and a click of moving brass, withdraws a pair of blown glass vials connected together with caps of swirled gold and blinking blue Aether light. Sram practically spits out his pliers, and Kambal looks barely interested. Each one is filled with a core of translucent, gossamer frost crystals, faintly aglow with a ghastly blue-white light, and branch in all free directions.

    "Some samples were finally removed from the scene using Aetheric preservation procedures, that is, equipment used to contain and analyze Aether samples, after having run through an artifact and prior to full dispersement. Of course, we are running our own tests, but I see no issue with collaborating our research." He hands them over to Edison immediately, potentially by lightly tossing them over the table.

    Kambal states "As far as the citizens of Ghirapur are aware, Consul Ismel was attacked on the way to his office by a maddened lower statesman and suffered fatal injuries before automatic security forces arrived. The assailant was killed in a resulting standoff, and police investigations are related to discerning his motive and relation, which will conclude the typical run of erratic, irrational, antisocial behaviour and warning signs of work-induced breakdown. The Consulate cannot afford to panic, nor to show fear. If the assassin's affiliates have made no demands, then any public response only shows weakness." Baan doesn't feel the need to interject. Sram adds "Yeah, and I'm not fancy enough to bother with. Apparently I'm just a grunt who takes orders."

    He certainly believes that. Kambal is tense but feeling belligerent and contrarian. Baan is still Baan.

    He takes off. "Regardless of the results of my inspection or the investigation however, I guarantee that you will have the full cooperation of our Office of Compliance with your efforts in dealing with the Renegades. The less resources the Consulate deigns to overtly spare, the better, and I am not currently encouraged to turn away free hands. 'Renegade Prime' specifically is to be captured alive and stand trial. Her followers are to be arrested likewise if at all possible. Considering what little threat they pose, lethal force is something I anticipate difficult to justify. You are free to deal with their outside accomplices as you see fit."
Yuuki Kuran Yuuki takes this all in stride, as she watches the city light up with unrestrained amazement. It is, of course, amazing.

"Amazing. Being able to see it surely helps. And, quite honestly, there is an efficency to bookeeping that shows a subtle mastery of resources. Finding scraps where there should be none, and finding windfalls when there should be scraps is a high skill, and your engineers doing what they do is clearly a tremendous job." She praises Sram, and by extension, the other two, as they 'run the things' and 'inspect all the devices' by extension.

"For short-term solutions, I can put you in contact with our logistics arm for collectors and other 'loss prevention' devices, and perhaps Edison can provide some stop-gap measures for the Consulate itself. Something to 'keep the lights on' could feed..."

She smiles politely at Kembal, fluttering her eyes meaningfully. "Whatever projects there are that need so much power. I do hope they'll be done in time for the Inventor's Fair."

Yeah, she knows.

"As for the pressing need of societal order. Warden All-Seeing Eye, please work with the Compliance branch and my associate, Mister Kiryu, to make sure the proceedings go smoothly and law and order is ensured. A lasting solution is at our fingertips, if we are sure enough at grasping it."

She gives a Look at Baan, a quirk of an eyebrow and a tilt of the head, just like when she had first met him. "I trust that the office of Inspection can recieve the documentation of the bids and proposals by the end of business today? And if you could arrange for the Chief of Compliance to meet with the Warden and Zero, then we can begin work apace."

She turns specifcally to Sram, who seemed the more ideal link to make. "I can also rush-order proposals for batteries and other containers to utilize... the 'underutilized' parts of the wasted power, if you'd like. Such delicate balancings can still sooth if there's some surplus to be found. A stable Ghirapur is a benefit to all."
Zero Kiryu The distant agitation fades from Zero's expression as he observes the lights on the model and the explanation from Sram. He isn't really a part of this situation the way Yuuki is, and he wouldn't claim to understand politics in a broader sense. The interruption by Kambal shakes him back into his usual state of barely-concealed tension. His eyes swing towards the other, and then back towards Sram. As Baan interferes, he can't help but reflect that this is the exact sort of situation he always gets dragged in to when he gets too close to vampire affairs. He hoped that this particular scenario would be different.

Usually it is, with Yuuki. She's just too straightforward. But...

His eyes settle on the girl next to him. Even though she doesn't fit the mold ordinarily, she seems to be slipping into it just fine now. Zero heaves a great exasperated sigh. Whether it's towards the situation itself, or towards Yuuki in particular is unclear.

"You are not." He interjects at Sram's statement.

"Infrastructure and logistics is the target of choice," Zero says, "based on my limited understanding of the situation if I was going to take somebody out of the picture to cause maximum damage it would be you. Reduced competence in an already-problematic area-- it's the societal equivalent of swinging at a visible, fresh wound."

Zero lapses back into silence, making a noise of acknowledgement at Yuuki's instructions towards him.
Thomas Alva Edison     Edison is nodding as the situation is explained to him. Indeed...

    "Efficiency is important, I have to agree.." A beat as the human problem is explained. Edison, for a moment, is perplexed by this as well. Should not the citizens give all they have to give to the inventor thing coming up? Are their needs being driven so badly by this..? For a moment, Edison is silent, taking the crystal he was thrown in stride, and with a flick of his mighty wrist, he places it in a large container, that condenses and flashes with the might of DC ELECTRICTY, THE MOST SUPERIOR FORM OF ELECTRICAL ENERGY, SUCK IT TESSLA! It is, carefully, placed back where he got it, even as it sparks. Truly, this is a situation...

    But called upon, to provide his aid...nay, his GENIUS to a situation that he had made possible for the modern society of his age, he perks up. "Ah! Excellent idea!" he says towards Yuuki, "My genus in this field is what raised the modern world of my country-nay, my world!" Thomas Alva Edison, while down to earth, is prideful about his acomplishment.

    "Allow me, the King of Inventors, to look over this energy field a bit longer..." hmm!

    "I will have this analysied as well, but first...!"
All-Seeing Eye      Eye seems more pleased the more he hears. If there's one thing he hates, it's being lied to by those he's meant to help. They seem sincere. Baan's offer of exploring the atrium is accepted with but a gracious nod. The crystal is taken with a single, graceful motion, and a knowing smile. It's like his golden eyes all but say, 'cool, huh?' The Minister may assume that nod is also Eye's response to contributing his personal visual capture. With his hands folded behind his back, the Exalt leans slightly forward. Kambul's explanation is received with (the appearance of) his full attention.

     "Discreet," he says simply, when Kambul finishes. "I like it!" His lips curl into a subtly delighted smile, as if he'd just seen a friend in passing. "Regrettably, I /do/ agree with Mr. Kiryu, where your safety is concerned. Juuust for the sake of tying up loose ends," he says, holding both hands out as if to quell complaints, "I'll take Minister Baan up on his offer and investigate the atrium once we're done here. From there..."

     Eye turns and gives Mr. Kiryu a little half-bow. "The strapping Mr. Kiryu, the esteemed Compliance branch and I can get to work on that 'lasting solution,' while Chevalier Edison assists the Consulate with their energy requirements." He rises, looking from person to person. Clapping his hands as he's so fond of doing, he asks...

     "Anything else?"
Priscilla     Sram visibly puffs out his chest in response to Yuuki's naked wonder at the hub diagram. He doesn't seem like the type to hide some well-deserved pride. "Not one of my people isn't the best at what they do. First thing every time: the more work you put in building the tools at the start, the less of a pain in the ass it is to find problems and fix them later." He looks to Kambal at the same time Yuuki does, which prevents the man from much more than a convincing bluff of a satisfied nod. They're basically playing chicken to see who admits it first.

    "I will, in fact, make absolutely certain that the documents are reviewed thoroughly by the next business day." Baan assures her, in a moderately more 'upbeat' tone of voice, back to a more 'english butler' air than the more grave professionalism of before. "I have, at my disposal, significant fiat ability to purpose city finances for the purposes of replacing faulty, obsolete, or damaged infrastructure and equipment under emergency notice. I'm quite sure these circumstances quality as 'unusual'." he says, glancing meaningful to Kambal, who only grumbles, unlikely to get in Baan's way here after one of his peers had all of his blood ripped out of his body and wound up a frozen corpse.

    Sram fiddles with his delicate brass appliance, but then settles it down instead of chewing on it again, looking to Zero. "That depends on how you look at it. If I were trying to cause maximum damage, I wouldn't start with something the Consulate can cover up so easily, or let them save face at all. I'd blow up the biggest, softest, most painful target I could before I tipped everyone off what I could do, or that I even exist. Maybe I think this one's more like a warning shot, huh? A message saying 'don't mess with me, nowhere is safe' or something. So, assuming that's true, what's the point in worrying about where I am?"

    When placed into glorious DC electrical containment, the discharge of energy is quietly punctuated by a crackle of creeping frost, and the glittering feathers of ice inside almost seem to grow incrementally.

    Baan finishes. "I will arrange for you to meet with the Chief of Compliance. I will then arrange for you to deliver a report of progress to the Grand Consul two weeks post. If I may be allowed to give you any advice: make certain the Chief of Compliance knows that his progress will be reported to the Grand Consul before you begin, and make certain that there is progress to report. Baral is known to be occasionally 'passionate about his work', and the Grand Consul is serious in the extreme in his measure of what constitutes progress, and is not to be taken lightly." He stops for just a second. "And if you do happen to encounter our assassin, though I expect you have your own estimations of your personal safety, I urge that you not involve our Compliance officers in a way that endangers their lives."

    Just for that one second, Baan is ever so slightly readable. He has an idea, or at least the inkling of one, as to who or what is responsible, and intends to avoid a direct confrontation.
Priscilla     Ghirapur is a city constantly reinventing itself, with its very architecture constantly shifting and changing as better materials are invented, better techniques are devised, and artistic fashion shifts and changes. Pick any place in the city and it'll be one that was smaller and plainer five years ago, and one that will be even taller and grander five years from now. There is very little room for anything 'historical'. The spirit of invention and craftsmanship is too strong in Ghirapur's people.

    And yet, still, there are places, especially these days, just dark and inconvenient enough, where the permits and zoning requests keep falling through, and where people never bother going, that just manage to slip between the cracks and get left behind. Narrow alleys and forgotten causeways with too many shadows and the scent of old wood and brass. 'Historical' buildings only a decade or two old, lost in the glittering metropolis like the opposite of a small clearing in an old, dark forest.

    An old club that hasn't been in service for years in this unpopular spot is their destination, dim, dusty, and unassuming on the outside, but immediately spilling light and sound into the vacant street when the well-oiled doors are opened, letting loose tobacco smoke and spiced air. The inside is surprisingly large, easily enough to fit two dozen low tables before even coming close to a stage, kept under low light with the ambiance of what can only vaguely be described as soft oriental jazz playing from a couple of guys with unfamiliar stringed instruments.

    It isn't exactly low-key inside though. There aren't even enough seats for the crowds of people packed in, and many are simply sitting on cushions, or even the floor. There are easily twice as many as last time, and enough have brought their tools to work while they chat that it's difficult to navigate around. The fact that they'd all gathered here without at least one person on the Consulate's payroll taking notice means that this area has either been only very recently moved into, or else it's been in use for a very long time, and the person who owns it makes certain it's kept off the Consulate's radar.

    It also appears to be where they've gathered the stolen Aether. The main body of it is probably being kept in 'the back room', going by doors to either side of the stage and guarded by the first sign of armed personnel seen around the Renegades, wearing matching robes and masks, but they appear to be collecting the empty tanks and taking them away, and none of the other buildings around here have power. The inventions many are working on at their tables have their own receptacles of misty blue light, fully charged.

    The atmosphere doesn't seem like dramatic speech time. Renegade Prime is easily singled out by her grey-streaked bright red hair, but rather than gathering flash cards on stage, she's in intensive discussion with a third robed 'guard' over something. /All/ members who participated in the raid are present, despite many having wrists in slings or compresses on their arms and faces. Banners have been hung from where stage curtains are, depicting the Consulate logo but in vertical reverse, so that an upside-down spire leaks iconographic Aether down and out. What is probably a calendar is hung on a billboard formerly used for event postings and glamour posters, with many names and timetables filled out as people seem to be set on preparing for a future operation on a roughly organized, volunteer basis.
Riva Banari "Is it just me, or is anyone getting a Prohibition feel to this?" Riva asks no one in particular as she lounges at the bar. "I feel like I should be in a dress." A pause. "Maybe with some, like, wires or something and a cool mask."

Despite the wounds she's taken, Riva seems to be... intact, and the enchantment on her seems to have dissolved away. Whether from leaving the proximity of the caster (Enchantments don't last through multiple games, Chuckles) or some kind of attribute of Riva herself is indeterminate.

She keeps rambling on. "That said, there's definitely a 'fight the power' vibe going on here. Or maybe 'get the power'?" She says, chuckling for a moment.
Staren     Staren steps into the room and-- hoo boy is it crowded! There's a brief blur and then he's a black-furred housecat wearing a miniature bandana, weaving through feet to make his way to Renegade Prime. "Hey! It's me again!" Staren speaks up in a squeaky voice. He changes back if they give him some room. "Listen, I wanted to talk about your utilities problems. But I need to go over what amenities you expect, and see what I can supply without aether. Lighting, for instance. I'm also wondering how you get water now, if at all -- we might be able to set up some recycling... but yeah. This kinda calls for a bespoke solution, so I can't just hand you some solar panels and call it a day, you know?"
Kyoko Takada     Perhaps emboldened by the degree to which nobody was killed or maimed or even taken away to undergo advanced interrogation techniques in the last caper, and with having at least one other person come around who's done the bodyguard bit for her before, Kyoko Takada has shown up in person, within sight, this time. She still pretty much looks like a tourist, though she's acquired some local fashion, including a mask-goggles combo with some ruby-red tinting. It's as clear what specific function it serves as most of the other gadgets on display, in explica, not at all.
    "Prohibition...? Oh, America, early 20th-cen." After a couple moments. "Maybe. Hopefully less machine-gun shooting." She might be checking video clips, despite the lack of a visible screen. There's some flickering light in one of the eye-pieces, but shortly afterward she pulls the mass up and away from her face, anyway.
Theo Morrison "Yeah, I feel kinda underdressed, too," someone says. "Do you think Kaladeshi style includes suits done up in 'artificer chic'? I really dig the ornamentation."

Theo sits down next to Riva at the bar. His 'disguise' amounts to that cool mantle he picked up last time and a pair of goggles on his forehead. It makes him blend in surprisingly well. Kickotron hops up onto a stool on his far side, presently all shiny brass (it's automotive spray paint) wearing a propellor beanie that makes his head look like a bird-styled ornithopter.

People keep asking him about his 'servo.' Theo tells him his name is Eustace. Nobody gets the joke.

"Goggles are pretty timeless, though," he asides. "You should get some. Maybe add it to the list along with all the double-A's in the county."
August Kohler August Kohler's been healing that hit he got from the Consulate's bruiser of a security captain. He's hoping he can take it easy today, not get into any fights, so that he can continue healing up. The redhead's dressed casually, a t-shirt, jeans, and some of the local colorful garb to blend in a little. There's both a pistol and a knife at his sides, and he's looking like he's in a pretty decent mood, more cheerful than he usually would look before the Maslow Peak incident.

August stands not far from the bar, waiting for Renegade Prime to finish her business. He doesn't really want to be an eavesdropper unless invited. "It's pretty nice, if way too crowded. Though the crowd means there's really a sizable amount of people who care about this stuff, and that's damn excellent. The more people who take a stand, the more causes like ours and theirs get recognized as legitimate." Theo gets a nod and a glance to his neat robot, and though August squints at him a few times, he doesn't suspect anything and is actually squinting at Kickotron, who the engineering student finds super cool. August then moves to and glances at the billboard, curious, but doesn't sign his name just yet.

Instead, when Staren approaches Renegade Prime, August takes this as a good enough time to make his own approach, slowly navigating through the crowd in the secret technique of 'being a loner in high school and knowing how to avoid everyone'. "Hey." He lets Staren speak up first, before August takes his own chance to say something. "That's a good short-term fix, though I feel we need to talk long-term, too. I see that you guys are planning something big. What's the situation?" August says in that tone of voice that is basically 'I want in, I want in'. "Hopefully it's putting the boot to the Consulate. That Chief of Compliance guy needs a kick to the ribs after what he did to mine, and this entire situation's plain unacceptable."

"I'd like to talk long-term plans a little, too, but that can wait if you don't have the time now. Want to know the end-goal and all that." August says, resting his hand against his chin. He seems pretty invested in this.
Riva Banari "Something tells me they don't need machine guns so much. More like laser electric bolt throwers with triple homing action or something. This place is crazy. And pretty cool." Riva raves to Kyoko, staying stationary in the crush. "Everything okay over there?" She asks the goggled woman.

Then there's the comment from the guy sitting next to her. She doesn't look immediately. "I don't know, I haven't really seen the whole spread." Riva replies offhandedly. She looks over to the guy then, and squints for a moment.... And hums. "Haven't I seen you somewhere?" She asks him, apparently not quite placing him. "Goggles are nice, though, but they keep breaking. Usually because things seem to keep hitting me in the face." The hazards of tanking. "Don't think I could pull off the look here so well. But that's okay, nothing wrong with variety."

She shrugs, then. "I don't think there ARE any AAs in the area. They've probably been all scrounged ages ago. Or they don't /sell/ them to these people."
Theo Morrison Theo casts August a casual two-fingered salute and a cocky grin. It's exactly the kind of thing someone might expect from a random artificer-type in a club full of them. Kickotron mimics the motion, but he's got small arms and a huge head, so it's kind of dorky and more than a bit endearing.

"Yeah, in the whole kerfluffle in the thing. I mean, probably. It would've been pretty quick, so I wouldn't worry too much about it." Theo smiles and shrugs. "You could get a big ol' welder's mask? Then you can dramatically pull it down /and/ it keeps your face from getting burnt off." He taps his temple in a knowing kind of manner, turning to put his back to the bar and scope out the whole place. Kickotron is examining someone's quicksmithed doohickey nearby silently.

"Mmm... yeah, that seems too easy," he admits. He scans the crowd fairly idly. "Too bad, though."
Kyoko Takada     "Electric bolt throwers sound possibly worse than tommy guns." Kyoko says, looking over to where Staren and August are talking, then adding, "Doesn't that get glass in your eyes?" She gives a push to the eye-pieces not currently over hers, but finds no concerning give in their structure. There will hopefully be no breaking of her equipment, nor her face, today, but the thought brings a frown. She's not placing Theo just at the moment, either. Maybe a little snap of info-magic, light-capturing, and running his profile against some facial recognition software will change that. The outward sign of this is another little bit of holography in front of her eyes, more visible now that she's taken the goggles off.
    Other people's privacy? What's that?
Priscilla     For once, Kickotron basically blends in with zero issue. Shitty steampunk brand spraypaint makes a decent enough effort on a Myrr that Theo can blend in without checking his assistant at the door. Really, given the huge variety of people here from all walks of life (except government work), it isn't too strenuous to slip in.

    August checking the billboard finds that it's a slightly ghetto mission planning center. The big double circled date is just about over two weeks from now, with a bunch of scribbly arrows pointing to it, and an associated sheet full of names. Before that, it mostly seems like a lot of little preparatory hits, supply runs, and minor demonstrations, to build up to it without immediately calling down the hammer. It seems the plan is that if they go right back to small scale stuff and hoard the Aether instead of doing another big heist, the Consulate won't escalate their response as much.

    Staren walks up to Renegade Prime as a cat and begins talking. The middle-aged redhead looks down at him and says "What." in a tone that isn't really a question. He then turns into a person and keeps going on about solar panels and amenities out of nowhere. "What." she repeats. The masked figure looks from him, to her, to him, to August, hoping for some kind of explanation and getting none.

    August gives her something grippable to respond to however. "The end-goal? Isn't that obvious? We want all of the recent allocation decisions reversed, the Consuls in charge of Aether works and city planning to step down or be impeached, and amendments to guarantee better civil rights to power, since it apparently turns out ours weren't sufficient in the face of 'temporary emergency measures'." She then sticks out a calloused hand for August to shake. "Good to see you again though. Sure made a show right in front of the Chief of Compliance. Gutsy. Maybe stupid, but I got a good kick of schadenfreude out of it."

    She points to the calendar. "Planning can't come 'long-term' yet though. Our next big shot is what we're focusing our efforts on, and it's not far enough away. The Consulate is hosting an Inventor's Fair in the next two weeks; a huge public spectacle with a whole slew of categories for inventors and artificers to strut their stuff in competition and try and score a patent or grant, maybe even become the next big thing. Of course, a whole lot of people aren't going to make it after their power was slowly cut down all year, and more than a few have two or three or five times as much as everyone else now, and those Consulate toadies are guaranteed to have all the top spots. It's a perfect chance to reveal their true colours if we shake things up even a little bit, and a great place to bring some of Ghirapur's most brilliant minds to our side."
August Kohler As Staren's...Staren shocks Renegade Prime, August tries his best to help, but is clearly just guessing. "I think he's trying to figure out a temporary fix to your power supply issues, setting up solar power and stuff. Though admittedly, I imagine the Consulate would find that and have a problem with it, so you'd need to do it stealthily..." August shakes his head, moving to let Staren speak his own piece, before moving to respond to the older woman.

She actually gets a grin from August, who shakes her hand firmly. "Sounds like a good plan. Get your power back, get rid of the idiot who thought he could get away with this, make sure it doesn't happen again." And in regards to the planning can't come 'long-term' yet...August responds lightly sarcastically. "I consider that long-term."

August considers the plan for several seconds, before nodding. "Alright. So what are you gonna do at this Inventor's Fair? Try and win the contest? Or ruin the whole thing? I assume you'd be barred from the former...but I'm good at the latter. I mean, gutsy, maybe stupid, said it yourself. Though here comes the million dollar question. What do you think it'll take for them to change the rules, and how does the Inventor's Fair factor into that?"

August isn't trying to tear apart her plan or anything, instead curious in what he can do to help. Trying to plan a little forward for once, especially since these people don't want as much violence as he usually dishes out.
Riva Banari "Ugh, a welder's mask? I'd look like a horror movie killer. That said, no one's tried burning my face off. That'd be really painful." Riva grumps for a moment then covers her face with her hands, peering out between the fingers as if to try to demonstrate. After a moment, she pulls her hands away and leans back again. "You were at the fight?" She asks. "I didn't remember seeing you with the group."

She overhears the plan, and blinks, gesturing. "Wait. So your plan is to go in and win the science fair and use that as leverage to get support for your reform movement?" She rubs her chin. "That's pretty amazing. I mean, it sure would be better than another slugfest like that last one. But you're going to need resources, right? And how do we know they're not going to cheat even more?"
Staren     Staren sighs and holds fingers to his temples. "Don't you get it? That would require the government admitting it's wrong, and that's never gonna happen. Now that you've stolen power, you're convenient scapegoats, if anything. I... I came today to offer you ways to live independently. So that you could have comfort while you fight your revolution, or... so that the government will see that this isn't working, and they either have to turn this into an open war -- a war in which you'll have allies -- or quietly back down. They might give you power back and not talk about it, and that's the best you're going to get from them. So..."

    Staren sighs and scratches his head. "Man, this messes everything up..., if you didn't realize that... Look, I'm up for helping with the inventor's fair, but do you want help in the meantime, or not?"
Theo Morrison "Yup." Theo hops up off the bar stool. "I showed up a little late. Maybe you took one too many shots to the head and forgot?" He taps a knuckle against the side of his head, beaming. "Ah, I'm sure you'll get it. 'Scuse me." He moves around her, through the crowd, towards the more core gathering. He doesn't want to have to talk around Riva, and he should probably actually get some words in with Renegade Prime before a bunch of big guys with power fists escort him out the back door.

"They won't change the rules," Theo cuts in, "but there /will/ be complications. Hi, Staren." He raises a hand in brief greeting, then looks to Renegade Prime. "Hi, uh, 'Miz Prime.' Sorry about the interruption; I just wanted to say that I'm a big fan of your work, a friend of your daughter, and interested in not having blood in the streets. Like I said -- complications."

Kickotron stands next to him and waves silently. Stoically. Heroically.
Priscilla     'Renegade Prime' squints in the way that indicates she isn't entirely sure if August or Riva are being serious right now. "Win the- you are aware that about half of us are on wanted lists now, right? And the Inventor's Fair is inevitably going to be on heavy lockdown. Word is the Grand Consul himself is going to be taking a look. With the Consulate that uptight, all we have to do is create a little disruption and they'll show their true colours."

    "You saw how they reacted to us taking back some of the Aether they stole from us, didn't you? What do you think would happen if we staged a demonstration or a rally at an event the Grand Consul is going to be? I don't mean running in there and throwing bricks either. We didn't heist that Aether just to run the air conditioning. We have a plan in the works that'll require a lot of machines. Once that happens, we can let the citizens see for themselves, at this hugely publicized event, which cronies the Consulate rushes to protect, which random people they rush to detain, how they wrap up the judging before it's even finished, and what happens when the Grand Consul has a berserk little fit."

    "Everyone /knows/ what they're up to. They just won't do anything about it because it doesn't affect them. Once they see how the Consulate turns on their friends and their celebrities because we happened to walk by, and how they protect and rig everything for their own, then maybe they'll feel some of the outrage we do. The problem is pulling it off without the Consulate getting violent, at least not more than usual. Things changed a little after they sent Baral after you, and we're having to work with it."

    She looks sidelong at Staren, and then at the silent guy in the mask, who then disappears into the back room. "Sure, if it comes down to it, everyone here would prefer having the lights on than off, but you understand that doesn't do anything about the principle here, right? If we let them take what's ours and then just replace it, we haven't done anything about the real injustice here, and what's to stop them from taking that too? I don't know what you have in mind, but an open war is the opposite of what we want, allies or no. We need them to think we don't have anything, not show off how much their restrictions don't affect us."
Staren     Staren sighs and hangs his head, ears splaying and tail drooping. "Idiots. If anyone else in this city cared," he glares at her. "they'd have been moved to _do something_ already. You know what's gonna happen when you provoke the Consul to attack more innocent people? The ones who get away will just say 'I'm glad that wasn't me' and keep hiding. Why do you think anything is gonna change when _everyone_ can already see how you're being treated? They walk by the houses with the lights off and say nothing! Do nothing!"
August Kohler August waves his hands in the air a little, sort of defensively. "Hey, hey, I assumed you'd be barred from it. Was just a possibility, I've seen weirder." August nods in general to her plan, frowning sharply at Staren. "Why are you taking part in a goddamn revolution if you don't think we can change people's hearts and minds? Stop being so pessimistic and look around you at just how many people are taking part in this. Look how many people want change. These are the brave ones, so how many more do you think are just scared and quiet? I'd imagine quite a few." What August also doesn't say is 'if the plan doesn't work, we'll just wing it'.

To Renegade Prime, instead, August moves to get some more information. "So, what do you need us to do? You have my support, I just need a direction. There's gotta be something we can do before the fair, right? Any supplies you need? A big show or distraction we can make while you prep?"

Also, after hearing something on his radio, August makes a few steps away from Theo, cautiously, but continues speaking. He's definitely suspicious of him now...but isn't blowing his cover, at the least. He's wondering what Theo's goal is, though he does look at him a little closer, trying to see if he recognizes him from anywhere.
Riva Banari "Really? Aww." Riva says, slumping a little as her mental image of a comedic underdog science fair comeback movie is dashed. "That's too bad, Disrupt it, though? Sure, that can work I guess. Depends on just what you're going to do though. I wouldn't presume to say I know your people better than you do though, so I'll take your lead on this."

She does sigh. "The government here seems to be getting authoritarian as hell. People do realize that once they're done suppressing you guys, they'll just move on to the next group, right? That's how it always goes... but it looks like you're planning to help demonstrate that with your plan. And you're right, there's no way you can just let them keep taking from you. You gotta fight back! Smart /and/ hard!" Riva grins, approving of the sentiment, clearly.

Riva shakes her head. "People DO care, I think." She says. "They're either just happy that it's the 'dissidents' getting the short end of the stick, or they're afraid to speak out. they don't realize they'll be next on the chopping block, Staren. They need to show people what it's like to be on the receiving end."
Theo Morrison Theo's disguise is a couple garments tossed on over his usual stuff. It won't stand up to any sort of scrutiny. August may recognize him from such films as The Man Who Would Pacify You Because He Doesn't Like The Combat Step, starring August and Riva.

"The Consulate isn't going to 'attack innocent people.' They're interested in public safety, and, by and large, that's still the case. The problem is that there's some worms in the apple that is the tower, and they're making the whole thing rotten." Theo spreads his hands. "There's some outside influence making them crack down harder, stirring the pot while they fill it with rocks and tell you it's all part of the soup. Blowing things up, stealing Aether -- it's all gonna get worse, and they're gonna be laughing all the way to the bank."

Theo lets his hands drop. He looks back at 'Renegade Prime' and asks her bluntly, "Did you have anything to do with the murder in the Spire recently? Or, say, get any recent opportunities to pick up steam on your budding revolution a week or two ago? Influx of supplies or recruits --" He gestures at the obvious offworlders with one hand. "-- present company excluded?"
Priscilla     When Staren starts getting that lip, one of the mysterious masked dudes looks to him and then says to Renegade Prime in a weirdly resonant voice "He giving you trouble?" and makes a head tilting motion towards the door. The redhead really has to stop to consider for a second, before shaking her head. "No. Not yet anyways. Look boy, if you're here to sell me something, make your pitch already. Don't keep tiptoeing around and whining about our problems. Nobody gets to whine until we do, and that doesn't seem likely any time soon."

    She nods and points a slightly scarred hand Riva's way. "That much exactly. It's unfortunate, but it's human nature. We can't do enough as we are right now, but hell, even if they don't do anything else, the masses can complain, they can protest, they can /vote/ at the very goddamn least, and the Consulate can't police /all/ of them. There's confidence in numbers and it takes more bravery to do anything the more marginalized you are. You just watched. When the Grand Consul makes a mess of his own show, steps his jackboot on Kapur and Miada down the street, closes the curtains and hands out medals and back pats to the unreviewed projects that were rigged to win from the start, we're bound to see some real push. Stopping short of an 'incident' is the delicate game we're playing. I know that. We all know that."

    When August asks her his question, she glances back towards the backroom doors before answering. "Even with all that Aether, we don't have /quite/ everything we need. The Consulate is good about seizing everything 'potentially dangerous' while people are out, so we don't have a lot to work with. I'm arranging an exchange with a benefactor; he's a big mover in this city who's sympathetic to the cause, or hell, at least thinks we're useful. It's not a hundred percent above board though. We don't have those kinds of channels anymore. We need to preserve as much of the Aether we have as possible and get a favourable deal out of this at the same time. Frankly, just having some muscle around would be a big help. I don't plan on a brawl happening, but with guys like these, it's tough to negotiate as just a concerned citizen. His name's Gonti. We're going to be seeing him tomorrow. If you can do any research, get together any leverage you can, or even just show up and look tough, it'd be a real help."

    Theo says words. They immediately make part of the crowd go quiet around him. The Renegade leader narrows her eyes and several masks shift towards him. "What do you know about my daughter." she says. It is not an invitation, but a tense, guarded demand. She does not wave off the men in robes this time. "And what exactly are you accusing me of? Take a look around. Do you think any of these people could have gotten mixed up in /that/ mess? Even if one of our own resorted to murder, Consul Ismel wasn't even on the Allocations board. Someone else is taking advantage of the situation and we're lucky the Consulate hasn't tried to pin it on us. Nothing else is any of your business until you tell me who you are."
Kyoko Takada     Kyoko is keeping, mostly quietly, to herself. As much as one can keep to oneself in a place this crowded. She's still communicating over an encrypted band, and still running a few searches, immediately bouncing around a few networks to scrape some data that might mention 'Gonti.' Hurray for worlds that have networks--though if there's no Internet-equivalent, it'll be mostly restricted to tertiary sources, other offworlders running stories on this place.
Staren     Staren's used to people not getting it. He's been the hopeful idealistic one too. But he's seen so much...

    Before Staren can reply, Theo speaks. Staren looks over at him. He already suspects that Khaladesh is in the card game too -- Theo's words just confirm it more. "I'm offering to help restore your utilities. That could be part of any number of strategies -- maybe it's to show the Consulate you don't need them. Or maybe it's just so that you can plan your revolution in reletive comfort, and focus on strategy without having to worry about keeping the lights on. The details of how it will work also depend on the specifics, but..." he shrugs. "I'm sure we can work it out, if you want."

    "Whether you want that particular help or not... I do want things to get better here. I don't like people suffering. It sounds like we need to find and root out the rotten people corrupting the city. And I'm up for helping with that, just like I helped you to stock up on Aether."
August Kohler August nods to what they're requested, taking mental notes. "Got it. I'll tap on the networks tonight, see what I can get, though I don't expect much." After being requested something on his radio and nodding to himself, he also continues. "Have someone geared for research and leverage as well, but we'll need a retainer fee." If he's looked at like an explanation is wanted, August adds on. "It's costing us, is why." Though, he does seem a little bad for asking at all, but he trusts Hibiki enough to test her experiment.

As the thing with Theo starts to go to a head, August takes a step back, to give the armed security room if they need to step in. He has something to say if Theo doesn't identify himself, but he's remaining quiet for now.
Priscilla     Ghirapur doesn't really have 'internet' internet, but it has what amounts to a radio and press network roughly along the lines of communication about as sophisticated as the first World War, so Kyoko isn't left /entirely/ to outside sources, given records stored on devices that receive broadcasts. Gonti comes up infrequently, most often as a quasi-celebrity businessman figure ranking in Ghirapur's top ten wealthy, as a unique class of citizen called 'Aetherborn', which makes getting a ton of money real quick apparently a huge deal.

    He's only been on the block for about seven years or so, and there are a lot of suspicions cast on him, with many investigations and articles implicating him in, or tying him to, criminal activity, but without anything proven each time. It certainly seems like he'd be a powerful ally, but he also comes across as a few steps short of Al Capone levels of organized shady. What businesses he's connected to are mostly rumour and hearsay, and those the police looked into but then turned around and said were clean. It'd take more than a few minutes at a meeting to dig deeper into them.

    The Renegade leader relents somewhat towards Staren when he reminds her that he had been on her side last time, quite literally under fire. "If you can do it with some discretion, I'll admit it'd be a big help, both as a morale boost and a way to conserve our bargaining chip, as well as some extra time to weld things together behind closed doors. As long as the Consulate patrols can't walk by and suddenly see the brand new pipes, it should hold for a while. We don't have a lot to give in return though, for . . . obvious reasons."

    The issue of a retainer's fee obviously brings a frown to her face, but after considering it, she seems to view the matter too important not to try and squeeze whatever extra they can get. "We'll discuss it. Like I said, we don't have a lot. Enough to scrape together on short notice if we need to, but not much more than that."
Riva Banari This just got a whole lot more complicated. She does, however, scowl at Theo when the word gets out about just what he did and she suddenly remembers. She'll deal with that later, though. More importantly, plans are being discussed. Inferences are made. Stuff is afoot.

And she's kind of losing grip on things. She isn't sure where and how to interject on this TWEEST, so she waits, listening and preparing in case something even more unexpected goes down.
Kyoko Takada     Kyoko won't really dig into things until she has a tac-center worth of monitors and free use of her hands. The task will save, and she hasn't been paid for it yet, anyway. She does listen to the response from Renegade Prime, trying not to give too much of a reaction away. It's interesting information, both what she just learned about Gonti and about her, and will help in building a useful psych profile. If the response had been something like indignation at having to pay to fund a revolution, that would have been... concerning.
    The data consultant saves away the more interesting tidbits concerning the aetherborn of note, then removes all the eye-screens at once.
    Via radio, she murmurs, "Good enough. We'll see what turns up."
Theo Morrison "I know that she's a promising pyromancer running around doing her best to save the worlds she ends up on, with a bunch of misfits with ulterior motives who still look out for one another. I know she's got a short temper and your hair, though without the grey, no offense." Theo shrugs a little. "She yelled at me when we first met and then gave me weird looks for a while, but I guess she wasn't used to other people like her."

A short nod. "That's what I thought. I'm pretty sure I know exactly who did that, and it wasn't any of you, but it's going to be used as an excuse anyway." He rolls his shoulders, glancing at the enforcers nearby. Theo doesn't seem particularly worried. He widens his stance very slightly. The martially-inclined might notice it's for a bit more than comfort.

"Me? I wander the places beyond the planes, diving through eddies of untapped Aether and ravenous clouds of entropy to traverse the space between spaces. I bend the energy of distant lands towards making wonders of artifice and sorcery unlike anything ever seen on Kaladesh. And I do my very best to help people out wherever I go, no matter who they are or what they do. Everybody gets a chance; the powerful and the powerless."

He grins and sticks out a hand. "Theo Morrison, Planeswalker. Your daughter's like me, but more on fire. She'll be back sooner than you think."

Theo glances towards the muscle. "In the interests of full disclosure, I'm with the Paladins, too. I'm investigating the murder of Consul Ismel, but that's nearly a shut case. I think it's part of a bigger problem that's gonna destabilize Ghirapur if it gets out of hand, but I'm not on the Consulate payroll. I still need access to the Spire so I can kick the ass of a couple really specific Consuls, though, so I can't do much to help you out in the way of literal highway robbery."
Staren     Staren's most immediate mission is accomplished now -- he nods to Pia and smiles. He'll need to discuss details with the renegade artificers, but he's sure /something/ can be worked out even if, say, roof solar panels turn out to be too obvious. He was just kind of poor at wording it all, it seems.

    He quirks an eyebrow as August, of all people, demands payment for the Watch's services. What the hell? Costing him, since when does that matter? Is this part of the new August? Was his feminine side also the fiscally responsible one? Staren's not going to question it here and now, though.

    Theo gets his grand dramatic introduction. That jogs Staren's memory a bit... /wasn't/ there some pyromancer planeswalker awhile ago? He must not have talked with her much, though. What really stands out is how dramatic and impressive Theo came across. Damn. Staren needs an introduction like that; he's sure he's got the accomplishments to merit it.

    The mention of factions gets him to add, to Pia: "And I'm with the Concord. But our interactions with the consulate do not make us beholden to or even supportive of them. We want to help people."
August Kohler August nods to Renegade Prime when she says they'll discuss it, before giving Staren's quirking of an eyebrow a glance and sighing. But Theo's introduction and warning has August curious and considering what to say. For now, he says nothing, because he doesn't have anything exact in mind. He'll wait to see how Renegade Prime handles the situation.
Priscilla     When Theo takes the challenge to prove what he's talking about, and declines the part where he's supposed to be careful what he says, 'Renegade Prime's expression quickly flits between shock, disbelief, anger, various levels of indignation, and then finally settles on just looking stunned, with several attempts to open her mouth and say something, before finally just going quiet and . . . really looking like she wants to believe him. That, and having no idea how to respond to a bombshell like that.

    ". . . for your sake, you'd better be telling the truth." she finally says in a near-whisper. "I never thought I . . . after all this . . . god I just hope she keeps her nose out of this, what would I even say?" Conscious of the people looking, the briefly much-less-serious and Rosy the Riveter-esque woman slaps her cheeks and gathers her breath again, looking at Theo with a hard, staring inspection. "There isn't one person here who isn't aware of what happened to my family. You're playing with big words there. I hope you know what you're doing, because god help you if you don't."

    She mostly seems to gloss over all the fancy talk, uninterested in poetic descriptions of planeswalking when there's a room full of revolutionaries and a whole buch of good metal and tools right in front of her. "Mind sharing what you know about the murder? Or is that 'need to know basis'." she scoffs a little. "If you could kick the Grand Consul right up the ass for us, that'd be a huge favour. Maybe Kambal while you're at it. Otherwise, don't bring any heat our way, because we'll all know who did it."
Theo Morrison "I wouldn't lie about something like this," Theo says, suddenly sober. "I've got a pretty good idea of what happened, too." He shakes his head. "I'd say not to worry, but... I think she kinda takes after you. Better to have the ability to worry at all, huh?" He smiles a little, but it's a bit on the apologetic side.

He gives the muscle the warning side-eye for a second more, then apparently relaxes. "Blood exploded out of him. Tore him up. Scene's real grisly. Lots of supernatural ice around, and a general sense of creepiness." He glances at Staren for a second, attempting to sort of subtly catch his attention before he adds, "Assassin would've had to be invisible to get in there and do that, and none too subtle about their killing method."

"Unless you've got a combination blood-ice mage hidden here, from your world that practically doesn't /have/ natural magical talents..." Theo trails off, somewhat significantly.
Staren     An invisible assassin.

    Of course, in Sector Zero, Priscilla is the most famous invisible person. But he can fathom no reason for her to do this, and that doesn't explain the 'blood mage' bit.

    He can't think of anyone else known for invisibility, but really, there can of course be people in the Multiverse that Staren hasn't heard of, and one with talents for stealth, all the moreso. By actually trying to hide, even Staren was able to fool Taro. Someone actually skilled at subterfuge... who knows?

    There is, of course, the troubling possibility that maybe whoever did it wanted people to think of Priscilla.

    "Why would they stay here and hide? Unless they plan to strike again... otherwise, better to just disappear into the Multiverse, and watch the news."
August Kohler "Jesus christ. I'd heard about the murder, but didn't hear it was that bad." August decides to respond about the murder, since apparently Renegade Prime isn't kicking Theo out. "So, if this place doesn't have that type of magic, it's someone else from the Multiverse, I assume. Do you guys have a lead suspect?" August doesn't expect to get a straight answer, though he's curious. While the different abilities are interesting, he isn't sure who it could be easily, and isn't thinking too hard about possibilities. He wants to hear it straight from the Paladins if he /can/.

And a nod towards Staren. "If they plan to strike again, it's probably at the Inventor's Fair. Speaking of which...I do want to ask. What do you plan on doing with the information you've gathered here, Paladin?" It's not subtle at all, as August is already considering what they might need to do now that they have a potential mole to the Consulate of their plans for the Inventor's Fair, though he's doubting Theo's going to rat them out if he /also/ wants to deal with members of the Consulate.
Theo Morrison "If they were still there, I'm pretty sure we would've found them when we swept the place," Theo tells Staren. He recognizes a look on his face, snaps his fingers and points at him. "Hey. Occam." Theo quirks a brow, as if to say, 'understand?' "Theorycrafting probably isn't gonna help you on this one."

August reacts strongly, which is good, because it means he probably isn't likely to do something like that even if he could. "Well I sure do. My pet theory is on the ten-foot ice queen with the scythe and the penchant for reciting form letters in Old English. Or..." He makes a circular motion with one hand. "...what the Multiverse translates as Old English, you get what I mean."

Theo hooks his thumbs in his pockets. "Plan? Well, I planned to go back to the Consulate and make it clear that these were seperate issues and these fine people had nothing to do with the body all over the office, then put my boot on some bureaucrat's head until a plan for fairer Aether allocation falls out or a list of names involved with its redistribution does, spend some time being amazed at the local quicksmiths, aaand, I dunno, maybe summon a kraken when the Fair gets hijacked?"

"I'd appreciate it if we skipped the step where you threatened me to try to keep me quiet," Theo asides to August. "If I wanted to bust you guys I could've had the Consulate surrounding the place while I was monologuing."
August Kohler As Theo says pretty much who it is, August takes a moment, scrunches his face, considers, and nods. "Has motive, has the means, is the type to do it. Alright." That answers August's curiosity on that, though he actually laughs when Theo says to skip the part where August threatens him.

"Oh, no, I wasn't going to do that, you'd probably turn me into a frog. Was just wondering how much mental planning I'd have to do around being outted." August doesn't say it, but this guy seems alright, for a Paladin. Honest enough, atleast, and August doesn't sense any deception.

"Well, hopefully what you do can help. If Priscilla wants to set up a conflict in Ghirapur, then I think we both have mutual interest in it being stopped. Though likely extremely different methods."

And somewhere mid-conversation, August realizes how casual he's become, and straightens up, turning to Staren. "I assume you didn't know about this. How will you handle it if it /was/ your boss?" Cutting out any 'well it's not my boss' theories.