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Lilian Rook     You know. It's funny. Absolutely nothing has changed. Not a molecule has moved out of place. But somehow, it's worse the second time.

    Even for those who'd already been here; who'd walked these silent streets and stirred this static air; the feeling of hostility that prickles from every side, every molecule around you, is like feeling too-hot sunlight on your skin.

    It doesn't radiate from any one person or any one thing. It would be more bearable if it were merely psychically invasive. The fact that, in absolute silence, and absolute stillness, every footstep feels a little like an infraction you barely get away with, every breath feels like a miniscule act of theft and defilement; even the beating of your heart, loud and palpable as it sloshes that disgusting poison through your body, is a kind of vile transgression that you just can't stop; is the same as feeling stir crazy when stuck in this house, or repulsed at the sight and smell of this rotting body. It just Is. Inuring to it isn't so easy.

    It might be worse, actually, for having disturbed it once before. Yeah, actually. It's more intense for having already stepped out of line. Even frozen in the streets, it feels like every unblinking eye is watching you, like they could burn holes through your skin and kill the part of you that says 'I' like a worm inside your brain. You can feel every exhale hang in the air like it shouldn't, leaving a trail of unbreathable pollution everywhere you go. Just hope nobody notices. Be quiet. Every step strikes you first, so walk softly. You can feel every stare in the city, so weave around them. Stay far away from them, so they don't know about your filthy insides.

    For better or for worse, both Stanley and Charlotte have reluctantly come to the realization that this crisis (Is it? Would it really matter if they never came back?) is the best opportunity they might have in a long time, maybe ever, to touch NovaTech in a way that matters. This is as objectively true as it is direly devoid of such unpleasant things as context.

    Finding the corporate building isn't hard. It is a known quantity, after all. Despite all of its wishmongering, the company is publicly know and privately traded, which is typically all the better to hide in plain sight, until a few kids become arbitrarily immune to alterations of the narrative.

    A little drive-- can't do that. The roads already have people on them, and they won't move for you. They'll never move for you. They were there first. It's their road. How are you going to use it? Get off and walk. Work for it. Take the routes they don't use and-- trip to the north side, from gentrified-- made for Them. Hostile territory. Don't-- downtown, and the complex is just . . . there.

    Boring offices, decorated with shining glass and glowing logos. Boring, sprawling edifices of asphalt (why can you smell it? It's even more intense than it should be) serving as parking, as inefficient as ever. Boring little chain outlets of cheap food and office outlets to make certain employees barely need to go anywhere. Boring rings of upscale stores set up like remora fish on the company's belly.

    Boring, boring, great big newly-built 'energy efficient' storeys of rambling architecture at the center, with those tedious glass walkways between buildings so it can be shot full of stroads, and the sweatily locked employee entrances everywhere with keycards and uselessly frozen guards.

    That's it. What do you want? It's all stood still. It can't do anything. The story won't advance on its own. Every single thing is all up to you, or it'll be this unbearably horrible forever. You have all the agency, so take your time. You have all the time in the world now.
Stanley Padgett     The NovaTech logo, a lovely blue and white shooting star that is exploding over some Brand Friendly Font, is plastered literally all over this damn place. The company wants you to know who this place belongs to, and who all of its employees belong to.

    Stanley, helpfully, doesn't give a damn about the Employee locks and the security right now. If the place was open, he couldn't do half the things he was going to do here. He's have to rely on not being spotted, having his entry tools all in place, security guards, passkeys, that sort of thing. Now? All he has to do is hop through the doors blocking the party's path, and open them from the inside for people, and no one's going to pop the alarms for 'weird people with powers' alarms. Hooray for building codes that require Direct Egress. At least for the upper levels. "...So I took the company tour a while back, before I got found out? But that was just the 'here's all the fun you can have with The Reversal, buy some merch!' tour... so this is going to be... interesting."
    And indeed, in the main entrances, there are those sorts of "This Way For Tour" signs and promotional standees for the monsters in the game, some QR codes to scan for free pulls, that sort of thing. Not what they're all looking for. "We're going to have to head deeper."
Friz Grit: This is a hostile place.
Grit: Moreso now.
Savvy: I think the hostility... maybe it's part of the wish?
Savvy: Part of the context in which the wish has to exist?
Moxie: That's too depressing for me to think about.
Dirt: Matches with what we know about Dame Commander Rook though.

    "I really," Friz starts. "Really don't know where corporate HQ would keep this kind of thing. What we're looking for. But, it would be something like a data center, if my guess is right. Something given some decent security, but not the grandiosity you're used to. I've never visited Centcom..."

    She's put together some of her ad-hoc crime-scene gear, and lent some to those who can't put it together themselves. Thin plasticky booties that go over shoes, nitrile gloves, masks and goggles, even tightly tied-up hair with netting. Shed-prone threads in clothing are bound with light tape. She's taught as many people as are willing to ask about her principle of concentric circles of 'extra personal space', to visualize the sphere of arm's reach so as to never risk brushing anything out of place. It takes, easily, if anyone's willing to learn. It should be easy and simple to walk through the building while disturbing nothing at all. She also makes sure to take lots of photos -- not to actually keep, she's holding them on temporary storage so that anything that *does* get disturbed can be set back in place very precisely.

    Now, though, it's a matter of dealing with what they find inside that's the problem. She does her best to navigate the main entrance. There still needs to be a steady stream of employees heading to the sensitive area. She pulls out a tape recorder, hitting record and speaking into it as a cover.

"Heading inside. Still not sure where we're going, though."
"Asking about my gut feeling, kid?"
"I'll probably have to depend on guesswork."
"Alright. Let me get a look at everyone, and the layout..."

    A phantom figure steps through the timeless space to look around, engaging in an ad-hoc ritual of thought as he looks as these hostile shapes from many angles. He should be able to get a gut feeling about a good place to start, at least.
Ishirou Ishirou does what he said he was going to do and gets here early.  He can't go down the streets, he doesn't really like driving anyway, he can't go that way...

Okay, flight.  They can't stop him, he can go just high enough to avoid their stares, but just high enough to avoid making things difficult for the aircraft.  People near buildings in this place might give him dirty looks, but... he can just step over them, right?  They don't matter, right?  

It was less of an established thought for him, and more of a asking for permission.  SHE had told him that he couldn't accept everyone's eyes on him, everyone's views of him and remain himself.  Even though he almost put on the wrong mask again.  He lands on one of the buildings of Novatech.  Desperately trying to ignore the presence of this place.  The stairs, their thoughts, their feelings, their /judgment/.  

She told him, so he has permission to exist... but it's not the same.  He realizes as he sets down.  She wanted him to find his mask... was that his way of dealing with this..?  Some sort of... no not permission, right now he's her on HER permission, but their existence isn't the same as her ability to provide them all the time in the world.  

What made this all worse was that despite it being silent, it was almost deafening to him.  What there wasn't, was, and it was just this lack of sound that reverberated in his head.  Like someone playing a long continuous note to represent an eerie lack of sound.  Despite this, he plays some internal music to try and make the sound... or rather lack there of, bearable.  

Once landed... he takes a moment to plot out a course through the city for those who would be arriving, helping to mitigate all of the paths he avoided.  It wouldn't be perfect but maybe they'd feel less... intrusive.  Lilian likely didn't need that...

Now for Novatech itself...

There was a wish-making device stuck.  So there had to be something... some sort of reading or magic or something that was something he could detect or detect through omission.  He could spend time pinpointing the location and making a roadmap to it.  Ishirou wanted to make sure to scan to make sure nobody was moving, but he didn't.  He purposely avoided that.  

The world was frozen, don't disturb it anymore than you have to.
Angela Angela was going to send a new Agent over but ultimately settled on Justin Rook as while he might not be the sneakiest agent, he is still someone who can be reasonably quiet and can reasonably try to avoid making more work for Lilian. So instead under Hod's guidance, Rook 'spoke' with the Agent in question to prepare for today's mission before ultimately arriving. He doesn't have his bakuran anymore but does still wear the pink EGO Gear that provides him with some generalized protection. The good news about EGO Gear is that it is clothing that shouldn't fray or get torn unless something hits it real hard. His weapon is still Penitence, but he's keeping it strapped to his back for emergencies. He is the only Agent that has been sent out today too as per Stanley's request.

He is smoking when he arrives, taking a long drag out and exhales, "Breaking into a Wing and the Hana Association isn't even around to be impressed." Justin Rook blows out some smoke into the air. It hangs into the air in stasis once it leaves his body. He observes it for a moment before crunching it out under a heel.and approaching the others. Yeah, he thinks, this seems like Wing Bullshit.

He does have a pad strapped to his arm like usual, this time with Angela observing though her eyes are closed at the moment.

"Hey kid," Rook says to Stanley. "Been assigned to help you out but don't get too cocky. Wings keep all sorts of dirty secrets out of the public eye. If you start acting careless just because we're following your lead, that's not gonna bode well for you down the line."

What Stanley had done in Lobotomy Corp isn't exactly unknown to the company or its Agents, he gave them snacks after all, but Rook doesn't seem to have been one of the ones bought off by them.

He then looks to Friz, giving her a nod. He is careful to not brush up against anything, to not touch anything more than the floor (he even checks his heel to make sure there's no lingering ash and shakes it off to dislodge a few flecks before heading inside) after her and Stanley.

He doesn't speak once he's inside but does glance around, looking for where people are going--it doesn't seem like people had a moment to react from here but Angela is keeping her eyes out for anything strange and is recording everything that is observed to go over later.

Justin is looking for an security card not presently in someone's hand--or at least shouldn't be too difficult to dislodge and slide back in between their fingers once they're done with it.
Charlotte Newman     Every second spent in Lampport drags on Charlotte like a new link of chain, between the oppressiveness of the atmosphere and her own guilty conscience from the last time she interacted with anyone in this frozen setting. She's rapidly grown to hate it, but part of her remembers what Ishirou said. That this is how the world feels to someone else all the time.

    She's put her hair up in a tight bun, held fast under a ballcap that has her bangs pushed up inside. Only a few stands, mostly danglies in front of her ears, manage to escape containment. Fine-fitted clothing with nothing loose, dark gray jeans and a gray pullover hoodie with tight elastic cuffs.

    Before entering the property, she passes a pair of cloth gloves to Stanley, then pulls on a pair of her own. As she flexes her fingers into place, the girl comments, "Keep an eye out for any Employees Only signage. Getting off the beaten path is our first step."

    Her bat is present, hanging off the clip on the strap of a nondescript cheap purse. Not her usual fare. Not containing anything identifiable. When Stanley gets the door, she pulls a disposible mask from her bag and puts it on, offering one to her fellow teen as well.

    "You did the tour, I missed out on that. Were there any spaces the employees called out as particularly important? Something they didn't want people going to? Maybe someone tried and got caught?"

    Glancing aside, the girl steps around Stanley towards the reception desk. Carefully circling around it, she leans this way and that around the time-stuck receptionist and her computer terminal. She fishes out her phone and a connector cable from her bag, gingerly inserting the plug, then accessing the blackbox Watch app on her phone. She uses her device's on-screen keyboard to completely bypass any need to touch the terminal itself or dislodge the woman sitting in front of it.

    While she's no super-hacker, getting a map of the building shouldn't be *too* hard... Especially if she can dig out one not meant for prying eyes.
Hamada Haru Hamada Haru was listening to the advice and planning that was happening on the radio previously, and decided to take them into account when he came this way. His shape is a human silhouette in a bank of fog; ghostly, distant, and most importantly intangible. He cannot stir a blade of grass, though there might be truly incorporal things that he could stir instead. As things are however, the dark-haired young man tugs off his coat and discards it into... nowhere, actually. It's just gone. Probably to wherever his equipment is when he doesn't want it.

It's too hot for leather jackets with fur collars, even if that 'heat' is a little abstracted, and his existence is a tenuous and ghostlike thing.

The feelings that ride the atmosphere of this place are familiar; some, because he's had them himself in some shape -- a little different from this, but not different enough that their 'return' isn't like catching the scent of a close friend that you haven't seen in a while. Some of it batters down like a personal ghost, and the rest is 'just' a reflection of the mistakes that he thought he made.

The pace that he takes, 'walking' alone through the city, a will o'wisp with a human shape, is leisurely. One hand rises, index and middle finger resting at his neck. Haru measures his pulse as an exercise, counting heartbeats from a December long past. It's not as revolting now as it was then, but it remains deeply unpleasant, a crawling sensation that gets under his skin and won't go away.

//Take the routes they don't use and-- trip to the north side, from gentrified--//

Pausing mid-step, Haru ceases to obey the instructions. He looks through the streets that the sensation doesn't want him to take. It seems important. It seems important to question, at least once. The question is easy // the question is hard. There is no way to pursue it without inviting further discomfort.

Who else will?

A hard swallow descends too slowly, scraping nerves already raw. Haru takes the route that he doesn't supposed to. So goes the question: What did you feel when you had to? This, too, is the crummy middle part of figuring it out.

And how does Hamada Haru imagine this? What is the answer to that question for him? Cold. Empty. The place itself isn't hostile but there are no hooks to which he can attach, no niche that is roughly "him-shaped". It isn't so severe as all of that, and the over-expensive cafe along the way would do just fine in a pinch. In this regard, he has no delusions that his understanding is anything more than distant.

Where there are depressions that look like they might be space, they're just-- only just, just a little imperfect, and that 'just a little' yawns out into a river that reeks of copper.

There is someone talking.

//What we're looking for. But, it would be something like a data center, if my guess is right.//

The phantom shape of Hamada Haru comes to a halt near Friz. "You're looking... for a room that is heavily cooled," he says, distantly. He's already sounding tired.
Kukuru The experience Kukuru had last time was certainly oppressive, but not all of it was unpleasant. Part of her is braced for something terrible, of course, but she can't help but harbor some amount of pleasant memories at how it felt to be held so warmly, to be indulged for once...

She also remembers what Lilian told her about Exigent Serenity. She doesn't like to think about the truth of what Lilian said, but she needs to listen better. That's the only way she'll be abl to make sure everyone she cares about stays safe through all of this.

With Friz's advice on what to wear in order to avoid leaving evidence of her presence, meanwhile, Kukuru's actually dressed for the job today instead of just wearing one of her usual outfits and hoping for the best. Taking some cues from the Concord's espionage experts, she's dressed from top to bottom in proper spy-esque gear: A sleek bodysuit (dark green, of course), long gloves, rubber-soled boots, no flapping clothes whatsoever, and even her hair is bundled up in a tight-ish bun underneath a boring gray cap. She borrows a mask and goggles from Friz, too, and this all combines to make her kind of hard to identify at a glance!

Not that there's any cameras around to record her presence (probably), but it does wonders for her psyche. The lack of flapping skirts and ruffling clothes actually helps Kukuru's psyche a bit, too! There's no errant noises from fabric swaying with each step, but the suit makes the feeling of being seen feel even worse. Even walking through the Novatech building is a pain, too, since there's so many frozen eyes that she can feel staring right at her, things Kukuru needs to make sure that she doesn't disturb lest she create even more work for everyone..

Needless to say, she's going to be looming behind Friz for most of this. Kukuru's imitating the investigator's posture to try and mitigate how much stuff she's disturbing, apparently intent on doing this correctly. She keeps her eyes peeled for visual signals of... She isn't sure what a busted wish-granting thing might look like, but she's operating on the assumption that it won't look correct in any way.

Otherwise, Kukuru is also prepared to aid in general movement with her teleportation for when careful tiptoeing isn't enough, or when it's just too inconvenient to hope everyone can walk through somewhere without rubbing up on everything in the process.
Tamamo     Tamamo has spent some time with Friz, learning about stealthy investigations. Though an attentive student, it probably won't be enough. To be sure, yes, she accepts the need for gloves, and she's tied up her hair in a pair of buns, one to either side, beside and a bit behind her ears. She's keeping her hands largely to herself, anyway, and there aren't any loose threads to worry about in her clothes.

    The obvious problem is that trio of tails. They're so big and fluffy and no matter how clean they must be, it's as implausible for there to be no loose hair as it is to imagine netting them. Stealth has not, in most respects, been something that can ever be expected of Tamamo. Without being able to verbally (magically) convince people that it's okay for her to be somewhere, or to leave behind something that would prevent them from noticing, there's not much she's ever been able to do.

    She can't tell these people that it's okay for her to be there, and so, she can only live with that irrational sense of judgment. She can't stop them from seeing her, because they aren't really seeing her. Even if she tries to pay attention to every little thing, to keep her touch as light as possible, to take long detours around to avoid so much as brushing by, it's too much. She can't think about it.

    "A river, halted. Its currents carry no one. The clock strikes 'never.'" The effectively blockaded roads are an inconvenience, though it's difficult for her to keep in mind the idea that they belong to other people. It'd be nice if she could just think of it as moving through a still painting, but that doesn't work, either. Why can she smell it?

    She focuses, instead, on the one she knows is 'somewhere,' having previously been, seemingly, 'nowhere.' She can't really be just talking to the air, even if that's what it looks like. That nothing reproaches her -- as nothing can -- for speaking loudly is emboldening, in its own way. "I have returned. Did you know, I have been thinking about you quite a bit, in the time since. Though I would like to talk with you more, I had wondered... ah, no, it is not so much 'how much,' nor 'what have you seen' that concerns me, I think. Though it is more difficult to know how to begin a conversation, when you have not knowledge of that which is common, it is more that I have needed wonder, 'how much have you heard?' I should be able to then know the point at which to begin."
Touta Konoe     The day before all the events had unfolded, the team had made certain preparations. Or at least agreed on some level regarding them. That as far as plans were concerned he planned to trust in what Stanley and Charlotte were doing in regards to stealth, and following up with the Detective's advice. So even before arrival he's doing his best to prepare gloves that he can cuff his sleeves into, boots that he can do the same with his pant legs. Honestly, it's probably very difficult for him to actually leave a trace of his body behind. He doesn't naturally sweat at this point, His hair never leaves its follicles, no skin cells or blood would ever be shed unless he decided to let it. At the same time...

    It's probably just much easier to take what Friz is providing gear wise when all is said and done than having to explain all that. Or at least any additional equipment that Friz would recommend after his arrival.

    Speaking upon the arrival though, that heavy sensation from before does catch him again as he ends up entering through the Warpgate. The sensation of those eyes staring into him as if they're turning him to stone. Condemning him for his very existence. It puts a weight on his chest that makes it difficult to breathe, to which he can appreciate not needing to. Though he still tries. For the very act does help to keep him sane. To remind him that he's alive, that he's here in the moment.

    Yet somehow, he feels a bit more like he can stomach it. The eyes were grueling to feel on your person, but what had truly tripped him up the last time hadn't ultimately been those eyes...But rather...Someoneelse's gaze, her temptation. And yet, since the last time he's been gifted with something that eases him. It doesn't calm his mind, but it makes him feel like even as things get heavier he can bear the weight. That if she speaks this time...He has something to lean onto. In fact, he's chosen not to even bring Kurobo this time. As if opting to force himself to rely on his own strength rather than that external voice. Or maybe...He just doesn't want that blade around, to be played with by those hands once again.

     "Alright, let's do this..."

     For the beginning of this mission, Touta's following along with the group and like Kukuru is trying to stick along the path that Friz goes. He's also following in an attempt to reduce the chance that something might happen. Though at the same time...As he spots the air vents...

    Probably could get through the entire facility in a bit if going through the vents with my mi--

    Rather than act on it though, he finds second doubts. What if he does leave a trace somehow? Just any kind of reason that this could go wrong and...

     "Oi, Friz..."

    He'd call out not trying to disrupt too much. "If there's a way to get through the vents without leaving any evidence, you'd have a problem with that?"

    He doesn't act immediately, still being cautious. Maybe too cautious. But, he's not trying to mess this up for Charlotte and Stan either. So that's fine right? Listening to those with more experience, and keeping an eye on their six...Surely that was fine enough for the time being?
Petra Soroka     This morning, Petra slowly woke up in a sleeping bag in the Control Department, with a chinchilla in her lap, Cinder curled up beside her, and Angela silently sitting on the table watching them all sleep throughout the night. Despite the questionable accomodations, the lingering smell of smoke irritating her lungs, and Tennant trying to tell her about a foreign movie told from the perspective of a pigeon late into the night, Petra wakes up feeling unusually rested. It's the best she's felt in a while!

    That positive afterglow grinds to a dead stop when stepping through the portal to Lampport. Last time she was here, the toxic smog hanging over the frozen city felt one step removed from her, like it was a sludge that she could lower herself into on purpose and indulge in, sliding past her seamless, flawless body. Now her heart pounds in her ears and throbs in her fingertips, and leaving a trail of sick, poisonous air behind her isn't a *choice* anymore. Each step is slower and less certain, her boots land clumsily on rocks and send them clattering in the silence, and every imperfection that she invited onto herself is cast into sharp focus.

    Her mood isn't *positive*, anymore. But this kind of thing, teetering between unknowably alien and ghoulishly spotlighted, isn't wholly negative either. It's the right way to feel, more complete and honest in an unspoken way than her last experience here.

    Petra is wearing her grey EGO suit with Blue Star's glowing heart on her chest, transteam gun stuffed halfway in the pocket of the accompanying trench coat. Her face is a little pale, and she can't walk entirely steadily, and every time she coughs she flinches, the sound echoing off of boring facades like a gunshot.

    The kind of neighborhood that's both comfortingly familiar, and violently anathemic to Petra. Rather than curling up in self-consciousness from the feeling of walking through the desolate asphalt wasteland while imagining eyes glancing at her with disgust from all of those gleaming windows, she imagines the exact opposite; that they'd all practically be empty even if time were moving normally, with all the fucking soulless drones inside them. The sensation that she's out of place here is comforting, rather than alienating-- it's made for them, and being alienated from it implicitly means it's not made for us.

    Petra gives Justin a slightly sour look when she arrives at NovaTech. How come §she§ lets *him* smoke? Implicitly brought along with that thought, audible to Exigent Serenity if she happens to be listening in, is the way that Petra assigns weight to 'let', when thinking about Exigent Serenity or Lilian herself, despite her scorn for the atmospheric assertion of the immobilized world's refusal to 'let' her do the same.

    Haru, not being recognized, gets a momentary annoyed glance from Petra. It's already irritating enough that so many people came along as voyeurs to Lilian's pseudo-mindscape the first time, so someone showing up partway through sets off further triggers of annoyance in her. Ultimately, though, it doesn't matter much, and he's barely there anyways, which makes his presence more tolerable.

    Faced with the presence of locked doors, Petra excitedly reaches into her trench coat pockets for her lockpicking set, only to be foiled once again by someone else doing it better.

    "Yeah. I mean. If there's, like, a *machine* involved in developing the wishes, then there's probably a huge section of the building dedicated to all the monitoring and research around that machine. Right? It won't just be, going down into the basement through the top-secret doors to find it somewhere, we'll be going through a whole lot of peripheral top-secret stuff too."
Tohru Adachi      "Head deeper? Nah. I'm perfectly fine where I'm at, honestly... But if you insist!"

     With everything and everyone stopped, Adachi has decided to take advantage of it the best way he knows how; by abusing the poor employees and guards. He and a few of his knightly heartless friends have already positioned a few of the security members into various poses, most silly stances you'd see from superhero shows, but a few are made to have their guns drawn on each other as if they're in mid-shootout.

     He can only hope that when time resumes, a few of them panic and the pretend shootout becomes reality. He also hopes that whatever it is that's watching him and making him feel like shit enjoys the eventual show.

     Adachi snags an ID from one of the workers as he simply pushes further into the building, his gang of heartless buddies following behind him. He doesn't know exactly what he's looking for, but he's pretty sure he'll know when he comes across it. Not like he's in any rush, they've got all the time in the world currently...

     The realization that there's currently no real stakes attached to his messing around makes Adachi frown deeply.
Hamada Haru //So I'd *appreciate* not having a small army charging about in the halls. We're not under time pressure.//

//With everything and everyone stopped, Adachi has decided to take advantage of it the best way he knows how; by abusing the poor employees and guards. He and a few of his knightly heartless friends have already positioned a few of the security members into various poses, most silly stances you'd see from superhero shows, but a few are made to have their guns drawn on each other as if they're in mid-shootout. //

Instantly, Hamada Haru becomes material, his transteam gun spewing smoke that engulfs him in a rapidly-forming light brown armor. He's in front of Adachi, gunblade fully extended towards his throat.

"You will stop, or I will fetch Xion and put you back in jail for fucking up this badly on contact," he says, simply.
Friz Moxie: Justin's doing well. Very conscious crime-scene movement.
Savvy: Angela knows how to pick them. Or whoever it is, does.

Dirt: Haru says to look for cooling.
Grit: The heart of this place needs infrastructure. Wishes come from the heart.
Savvy: Wishes come from stories. But they wouldn't keep things here if they didn't need structure around them, I think.
Savvy: Keep an eye out, Dirt.
Dirt: Got it, boss.
Dirt: First time we're meeting him too.
Moxie: He's got a sense of style.
Savvy: Seems like an odd thing to spend focus on for someone so straightforward.
Moxie: Not at all. Fashion shapes the soul. I bet it's a shortcut for him.
Savvy: To what?
Moxie: Beats me.

Grit: The horned and clawed one is behind us.
Savvy: Is that a fear response?
Grit: No.
Grit: Wait.
Grit: Yes. I mean no.
Savvy: Okay.
Dirt: Probably just remembering the incident with the auction and Kukuru.
Savvy: The what?
Dirt: Loading the memories.
Savvy: Oh christ, that's a lot of blood.
Moxie: Yeesh. No wonder.

Savvy: Is there some reason we don't have Tamamo wearing hair-nets for her tails?
Dirt: Yeah. Boss, I suggested it, you shot it down.
Savvy: Why'd I do that?
Moxie: Because I wanted to 'mof--
Savvy: Right, no. That's someone's fiancee.
Grit: That's Rook's fiancee.
Moxie: Come on. You can't blame me, they're fluffy and it's harmless.
Savvy: Have some decency.
Grit: And some self-preservation.

Savvy: Touta wants to know about the vents. What's the call?
Dirt: Lots of traces, but hard to examine them.
Savvy: He says no evidence gets left.
Dirt: Not an issue, then.
SavvySavvy: Alright. "If you're sure there's no evidence left..."

    "If you're *sure* there's no evidence left behind," She turns to Touta, nodding for a moment. "Then give it a shot. Some kind of intangible thing, you're thinking?"
Ishirou Ishirou stands there, and eventually, people show up.  Not one person says anything to him.  Instead, he notices everyone starts talking to Friz.  Okay, maybe that makes sense he doesn't know forensics and they want to keep their stuff off everything, right?  It sucks he doesn't /know/ that, because then he'd get attention...

'No shut up, brain.  It isn't about attention it's about helping Lilian, ending Novatech's stuff, and stuff like that.  We thought we could do everything before, and that led us to losing our home for good, and then being stabbed and bleeding out in a ditch.  A literal ditch.  Stop being jealous because you don't have a skill someone else has!  It's stupid, you're stupid!'

Ishirou struggles a little in his spot, he isn't wearing the Hoodie today, because he's in the RESCUE armor, which... well he doesn't need a hoodie to cover everything if he's in full body armor that can attach to more armor.  

'Wait is that Adachi... what is he..?  Oh okay, Haru has it handled.  Probably.  ...On that side of things though, we'll get to see Adachi get his teeth kicked in, that'll be funny.  It's okay to find that funny, Adachi is an awful person.  Speak of awful... it's Petra.  Ugh... and she looks angry at everything again... staying away from that.  '

Ishirou's thoughts continue on, but nothing focused as most of the spoons are focused on the scans.  Other than a little bit of annoyance when his offer to share things with Friz is rebuffed.  

'Yeah, probably things I'm creepy or something, even though I just want to help.  Like it's my fault my power is about sharing my powers with others.  I mean, sure it is a little bit, I did build it but it's supposed to help people..' he thinks with a pause, 'Well at least she just didn't decide to accept it and then hit them with a bat into things for shits and giggles like everyone else seems to.'
Tohru Adachi      Adachi flinches as the blade is brought to his throat, and the heartless that follow him immediately fall on their asses from the sudden appearance of the man. The man's face goes from mild fear, to confusion, to a smug smirk as he places a hand on the blade and lightly nudges it away.

     "Hey, hey. As much as I'd love to meet her again to catch up on some things, I'll behave for now. Though I gotta say, it's preeeetty lame of you to instantly try and bring someone else in to solve your problem. Thought you were supposed to be one of those strong loner types, but I guess I was wrong."

     Adachi, true to his word, stops, if only because he has Xion pointed at him. He does not however, clean up the 'mess' he's already left.
Touta Konoe     "If you're *sure* there's no evidence left behind," She turns to Touta, nodding for a moment. "Then give it a shot. Some kind of intangible thing, you're thinking?"

    There's a nod as Touta takes off one of his gloves for a moment. He's not planning to touch anything but he plans to make a point as he pulls it inside out. "Has a bit of color to it, but I can probably thin it out enough."

    He bites into his cheek and the moment that the taste of iron fills his lips he blows out what looks almost like a small blot of black fog. He raises out his hand tightening it for a moment to show as the fog condensed on itself, then loosening the grip to make it appear to spread out, the concentration reaching the point that there were at best slight black trails in the air. His fingers casually guide it as it's made apparent till that black fog presses into that pulled off glove just enough to show a different darker pigment. Though just as quickly as it appeared on the glove, it was slowly being extracted out as that black mist began to simply suck it back in. At which point, he just shows Friz what would be of the glove now. No visible traces at least of what had lingered inside.

    "Part of the immortality, and part of my body. Always comes back in full unless someone obstructs it intentionally."

    At this point he's offering to pass the glove to Friz to decide for herself if it passes her standards of, not leaving a trace.
Angela That was faster than I thought, Angela thinks, as Adachi specifically goes out of his way to make their presence even more obvious in a way that will probably get people killed. Her eyes slant towards Haru as he brings up Xion but otherwise takes a moment to reflect--did she accomplish her objective here? No, she thinks, it doesn't matter if other people mess things up first--especially if it's intentionally like this Adachi seems to be--it's more important that she makes it as difficult as possible.

Justin Rook blinks at Petra but at this point is getting accustomed to getting weird looks from Outsiders basically because he--

--hm. IS it the last name again? He's not sure.

"We get Angela access to data and she clear it out and collate it fast." Rook says. He glances to Adachi and adds, "We don't wanna cause a big mess." He is looking to Petra as he brings this up. "So that's what we'll do unless you've got a better idea."

He considers Haru's interference with ADachi and decides it'll be a good idea to push the frozen people back into their proper place, muttering obscenities under his breath as he does so.

Angela periodically informs Rook of minor adjustments that he misses due to being able to forget things and he goes about making those too.
Hamada Haru The person behind Dynamic Era's helmet is not the kind to strike an unresisting person; it is safe, in fact, to nudge the gunblade away as long as it doesn't appear to be a motion towards combat. It remains in a 'ready' position, and the breathing of the armored man is of a different quality than somebody who is at rest. Most of the threat of motion presently exists at his wrist and his legs; there is no heavy swing prepared, but getting out of his reach without getting hurt would be difficult if he were trying to threaten too seriously.

//Though I gotta say, it's preeeetty lame of you to instantly try and bring someone else in to solve your problem. Thought you were supposed to be one of those strong loner types, but I guess I was wrong.//

"No," says Dynamic Era, "although Xion is no longer the 'hero of everyone's hearts', still she can be the hero of 'my' heart, and Lilian's also. I feel no shame whatsoever... in invoking her strength when my hand might deliver too light a blow, Adachi. If you should soil things here, she can punish you more appropriately than I can. And although that may make me 'weak', still it makes me less wretched than you, who would imagine that such a thing is shameful."

He depresses the trigger on the gunblade, producing another gout of steam that reduces him back to an incorporeal -- though still transformed -- state.
Petra Soroka     Ishirou is entirely correct that Petra is intentionally ignoring him to defer to Friz instead. It's Petra, of course, so that's to be expected, but knowing that she's completely genuine about trusting Friz more than Ishirou on this task that he's theoretically specialized in still stings.

    Haru catches Petra's attention when he materializes, not because of the threat against Adachi or the process of leaving his phantom state with the transteam transformation, but because she recognizes his voice. Haru is one of the few people that Lilian has some noticeable respect for, and all of their conversations so far have been... not positive, exactly, but they've stuck in Petra's mind. Between his presence and Tamamo's, Petra, for once, has a lot of reason to quash her Serenity-encouraged murderous impulses.

    She also joins Justin in readjusting the people that Adachi messed around with. She must've *really* been in a good mood earlier. "Oh, uh. Haru. Right? We haven't met in person before." They have, actually. Petra just doesn't remember seeing him.

    Justin's look of annoyance and general ambient hostility towards Petra makes her flinch, though, and she grits her teeth loud enough to hear when he implies that she'll be the one causing a big mess. "You know, Justin. If you can't even remember which pocket that guy's ID was in, maybe you should just leave this to someone who's paying more attention."
Kukuru When Adachi and his Heartless start moving epople around, there's a brief pause in Kukuru's movements as she considers breaking away from Friz (and possibly giving her moment's reprieve). This sort of behavior is exactly the kind of thing she was warned against doing, and she's about to go address that when Haru beats her to the punch by a wide margin. There's still some clear tension in her shoulders as she watches them both to see what comes of that, and she lets out a relieved sigh when things seem to be defused for the time being.

"Adachi... You shouldn't cause trouble for your friends like that, even if it feels really good in the moment." She scolds him gently while making all manner of assumptions almost immediately, then brings her hands in front of herself and... Doesn't clap! She comes really close, though, like it's a habit. Even though her mouth is hidden by a mask, it's easy to tell that she's smiling. "You should save that for people you don't like or care about at all, okay? Then you can do that kind of thing /and/ help your friends at the same time~"

Otherwise, she keeps trying to spot unnaturally weird stuff that might be a lead. She knows for certain that Friz, Justin, Angela, Petra, Ishirou, Haru, Tamamo... Heck, probably even Stanley and Charlotte (sadly, she doesn't know much about Touta) might have a better memory for putting everything back than she does, and her efforts are better spent on physical traversal and looking for things that might be missed by regular-er eyes.
Charlotte Newman     Once the Watch app is launched and confirmed to be black-boxing her connections, Charlotte raises her voice without taking her eyes off the screen, "Mister Ishirou, could you help me with this for a moment?"

    She gestures to the armorclad scout with one hand, holding her phone with the other.

    "I know a few tricks but this is big-time security, an extra set of eyes would be helpful. You've got more experience with this than I do, anyway, right?"

    She's pointedly not acknowledging Petra, feeling it's best to leave her fellow teen alone after their last interaction. Adachi's antics get a glance and a frown-- but Haru has it handled, and both Petra and the Agent from Lobotomy Corp are putting everyone back--

    She lets out a sigh, eyes closing for a moment. Well, at least being *here*, every action, sound, and thought feeling taboo makes sense. This is... breaking and entering, after all. Sort of. She glances aside at the frozen receptionist whose terminal she co-opted, then back up towads Ishirou.
Friz     "The visuals aren't important. It's about the contact. 'Every contact leaves a trace'. That's Locard's Exchange Principle." Friz explains to Touta. "If you can't affect the world with it, it's fine. I..." She examines the glove, looking for traces. "I've heard, um, *heard* that phantasmal things sometimes don't leave traces. So, if it's more phantasmal thing, it shouldn't be any issue."

Dirt: Calling up memories of asking Rogers about ectoplasm.
Savvy: Stop making Moxie cringe, we're trying to work.
Moxie: Nuh!!
Dirt: Haha, sorry boss.
Lilian Rook     Lilian, as begrudgingly promised, shows up shortly after the group 'lands'. Strutting through the shitty gentrified parking lot swamp at a brisk, echoing holy fucking shit her heels are like driving anaesthetic needles into the back of your brain; why are they so loud and why does the flinch wear off so fast? click, she waves her hand distastefully through the air that Justin's cigarette smoke hangs in, as a eerily detailed, grey cottony cloud, and it-- dissipates actually. It dissolves into the air and disperses into microscopic negative pressure; into a million particles that'll never be found again. Like it's supposed to.

    "No smoking on premises, please." she remarks, drily. "Not because I respect them, but because it'll be annoying if the smell gets in." She walks past him. "As much as I understand the temptation." Before Stanley runs off to do his thing, she is emphatic about finding him, getting in his way, looking down her nose, and saying "Don't touch anything until you have your gear from Detective Friz. These people will call up a forensics team afterwards, and I'm not wiping your fingerprints off of door-bars." Charlotte handing off gloves seems to be fine with her, though. As easy as it would be to interpret as demanding he submit to Paladins 'authority', just following procedure is enough to get her off his ass with surprising ease.

    'It seems important. It seems important to question, at least once.'

    It's not pleasant, to have that thought and feel §someone§ lean in close behind you, invading your personal space to carelessly look closer at the feeling that just crossed you. But it's not precisely unpleasant, either, when the texture of it is a warm sort of slightly unwholesome enthusiasm, even praise. The fingers on Haru's intangible shoulder are certainly only a phantom sensation, evincing senses of 'softness', 'lukewarmth', 'anaesthetic tingle', 'fragility', 'support', and 'distant menace', but §someone else's§ intrusive thought that comes to mind and dissipates in an instant is more concrete.

    §You get it, don't you? I think you really do, at least a little bit. Have you ever been walking home late at night, looked away from the sidewalk, seen a park or an alley that's been transformed into something mysterious by the dark, and thought about how even though it's so close by, you've never been there and you probably never will? Do you know that feeling that suddenly bubbles up inside of you to demand that you go there? That you diverge from your beaten-in path and run around pointlessly in the dirt? That's the survival instinct of the part that says 'I'. It means you aren't quite dead yet! So don't go dying on me yet, okay~?§

    "Cooling is very likely." Lilian says, in real life. "No matter what, these people still produce a computer game." Could she really not have said 'videogame'? "Whatever process they're using, it hooks into their digital infrastructure in the end. That means electronics, which means heat. It's even likely that Petra is right, and to economize their security, they've placed one department within the other." Then, she takes a second to actually look at Haru, even if that only means staring into the fog.

    "Are you quite alright? You sound as if you haven't rested enough." she says. It's uncanny, actually, how she sounds exactly the same as always, and in retrospect, how much 'as always' sounds like Haru at a point of exhaustion, but with more forced energy.

    §It's hilarious to see you get it in reverse, Petra~ Wouldn't it be so nice? If your skin were metal and your feet didn't touch the ground? If you never did anything by accident and you were impossible to see into? Even if they're only a tiny little bit similar, it's hysterical to see go from that to this~§
Lilian Rook     The way Lilian sounds doesn't stop her from boggling a little bit at Kukuru's new outfit. And a little at seeing Tamamo ~~wearing hair buns~~ talking into thin air. Waiting for her to finish, Lilian squints at Touta misgivingly, repeating "Without leaving evidence?", glances twice at his gloves, and makes a misgiving sound. "If you can figure out where you're going, I suppose." That misgiving look turns to an irritable scowl at Adachi, probably because of the flippant words, and then it turns out open-mouthed, cold-eyed--

    Lilian freezes with her hand on the grip of Winter Crow, half-drawn from its holster. From where she's focused, it's obvious to anyone and everyone that she has locked up because Haru got to him first. Her eyes, already fixed on Adachi's throat, trail back along the gunblade to the one holding it-- anyone, holding it-- and then the new expression that suddenly takes hold is more difficult to identify.

    Her focus pierces through the air an inch away from his face. Her jaw works uneasily, on words that she doesn't find or voice. The moment is lost at the instant she exhales, turning around and letting the gun settle in the same motion. Those two things are so strangely light that the 'sound effect' is the breath out.

    "I anticipate she won't be eagerly breaking him out this time." Lilian says to Haru, pointedly not promising to beat him to it with something worse as she walks off. "I appreciate your cooperation. I'll set it all back in place." she says. "If he gives you trouble then I'll put something a size bigger than last time into him." Lilian somehow expects everyone to know that she shot him with a cop pistol at some point in the past.

    §Oh Adachi. You tried just a little bit, and what is this? A straight to hero pipeline~ You hadn't even gotten to the part where anyone gets hurt, right? You really can't get out from under them as long as they're watching. You're tagged and chipped now! Though, it's not like she won't notice if you do it like 'this'. So, maybe, try making a mess more like 'that'~?§

    Once the door is open (and Rogers is already striding around inside anyways), the inside of the HQ building is just as noxiously boring as the rest. Somehow the aluminium cubicle felt smell (is that even correct? Or just imagined?) is almost worse than the parking lot. Anyone who's been around an office knows it should be takeout, coffee, cleaning supplies, and the idle AC instead. The fact that the light panels in the ceiling don't have their infamous refresh rate like this (where does the light come from?) makes everything feel too bright for what it is. Like getting blood drawn.

    A janitor in the midst of mopping the floor is secretly thinking about how much he wants you to die. He must be. Can you blame him? You're trampling all over him and he can't do anything about it. He doesn't care that you can't avoid it, he-- blocks one corridor only incidentally. A bored secretary stares off into the middle distance at front reception, the lack of restless motion making her clock-watching vigil slightly unnatural but we all know she's just pretending not to notice you. Looking away so she has an excuse not to get involved. Keeping silent because she wouldn't be able to hold herself back from saying--

    There are dozens of places to go, even if it's just Charlotte looking at the directory map behind the desk. Her desk. Get out you fucking freak. What's wrong with you? Just because you can get away with it, just because no one will know, doesn't mean you should. Jacking into the computer . . . doesn't work. The screen stays frozen. The phone doesn't really react to it at all. It doesn't even show 'connecting'. How would it? The computer's electricity is frozen too, isn't it? Until--
Lilian Rook     Lilian passes by, puts her hand on the base of the monitor (How come Lilian doesn't wear gloves?) in an ostensible restive pose, looking down the hallways herself, and Charlotte's phone connects all of a sudden. The downloaded map is clearly more informative, as it's meant for employees and not visitors.

    Justin taking the pass from a door guard's lanyard is significantly easier. Even if it requires a slight bit of finesse and a solid memory to remember to put it back, the task should be trivial. It's worth a flinch only when he suddenly feels the man's body heat on his hand (How? Wouldn't they turn ice cold and die?) and a scent of cologne and unpleasant sweat. It's not as if it's totally repulsive so that probably makes you a-- but the way it blurs the line between 'wax dummy' and 'living, breathing, sweating, hot and unhappy human being' is abrupt and deeply unpleasant. The instant he tries to take the pass, he has to viscerally feel the sensation of sliding his hand over a stranger's body and taking something from him.

    §Gross. Why do you have to slither around and carefully, delicately, oh so very pervertedly sneak things off him? His whole job is to fuck you over and keep you from getting you what you want, isn't it? It's always like this, right? Creeping around to see what you can get away with, when you can't beg for table scraps. You put your body on the line every day! Why does this guy get you to treat him like a holy temple? Nobody would think anything suspicious if just one man had an accident, right~?§

    It's more striking when, while sorting out displaced security guards, he gets to hear them back to back. Those two different 'voices' that sound so close to exactly the same, yet say different things. They really do 'feel' just ever so slightly different.

    §That devotion of yours is so cute~ Angela didn't even tell you to, right? You're so thoughtful~ Are you trying to make up for having the wrong name? That's fine. Some people have to do that, you know. If you're trying to make things okay again after what happened before, then you should blame the right people~ Not that I dislike your attitude! That's just what a §maid§ is like for the §lady§ they work for, isn't it?§

    Pulsing a scan through the building has an interesting effect, and an interesting problem. Receiving emissions works fine even though it shouldn't, because nothing is moving through any medium, but sending out signals to get back after --also works, but just 'sort of'. A certain distance from him, radar, lidar, x-ray, even magical wavelengths, simply pause. Ishirou can feel them as solid emanations, like a hazy, spherical wall around him, given only gaps where the close-up architecture reflected it. Even his wireless ping is like a half-extended ladder, visible only to him.

    Thankfully, nobody is going to have evidence of a millisecond scan, but it's a sort of claustrophobic clutter just for him. Huge. Garish. Unignorably physical. The paint he's slathering everywhere every time he does this. The realm of energies only he can perceive, yet everyone else can feel the harm of. How could they not? Look at it. How could that ever be quietly supportive? It's like an explosion going off, catching up everyone in it, helplessly. What does it take from them? Practically, the only thing this means is that he actually has to be reasonably close to scan, rather than taking in the whole building in one burst.
Lilian Rook     Rogers roaming around the facility is able to confirm a few things that the map suggests, and one other thing. Nothing important is on the first floor, all employee atriums and gentrified cafeterias and a corporate food court and climbing walls. Above, the external corridors are all transit. The computers are all in the guts of the facility, with main corridors from each cardinal direction burrowing into the nerd blocks and splitting up inside into smaller arteries. The lightboard studios with people drawing up art assets, the render farms for 3d, and the in-house soundproofing block for the hired BGM musicals and voice actors, are all relatively unsecured, with little more than swivel gates and guards, both operated by ID. Charlotte and Ishirou can navigate around those.

    The chunks further inside, and further up, are where things start being locked down. Engine techs, IT, file storage, countless code monkeys. Contrary to stereotypical wisdom, the server farm and main database is another floor above; the map marks it, but it's also only accessible by elevator. Most of the surrounding floor seems to be just for insulating and cooling the entire floor between them. Above that is completely locked off. Executive offices.

    But it strikes him as weird that there are so many. Elevator only, too. Even a building of this size shouldn't have so many board rooms and meeting spaces for important people that it takes up a whole storey. It gives him a bad feeling. Like whatever is up there is an invitation for the Right People to gawk in slick fascination. No brochures.

    §Good thing they don't know, right? That this is what you're really doing. They'd just go right over your head and ask him, wouldn't they? The real detective. The man. Not a nervous little people-pleaser. No matter how good you are, they've never acknowledged it, right? So don't give them an excuse! Keep lying! Lie more~ Take charge and get what you paid for, okay~?§
    §But I do know~ And you're very sweet, but she belongs to me too, you know, so I really can't let you have her! Haha~ Don't worry, though! 'Rogers', those naughty thoughts, the chaos inside your head; that's all a secret between you and §I/she/us§! I won't drag it out. People have already taken far too much from you that they don't deserve, and §I/she/we§ hate that. 'We' want to be kinder to §      § inside of 'Friz'.§
Lilian Rook     The vents do, accordingly, lead to most of the building. The ventilation on the database floor is segregated from the ones below, for reasons that could be construed as obvious and innocent, though that cuts off the floor above it too. Touta will have to go in and out to get to either of those places, but has free run of the floors below.

    §Haha~ You really do get it, Haru! Is it because you were like that too? Don't worry, though. This isn't even his power, but he can't even help himself from abusing it for absolutely no reason. Why is he even here? Why are half of them? To stare? Have fun? Learn a lesson? Kill someone because they smelled a fight? Seriously, they could at least have the decency to feel uncomfortable like you do! It's kind of weird how they never do, right? It's awful, being the only one who ever feels uncomfortable. The only one who isn't always so sure of themselves. It's nice that you want to respect the line no one else will, but you really should be forcing everyone else to respect it too, right? Or else what was the point of holding yourself to it?§

    §You're doing really well, though. I might have a present for you, if you want it~§

    Finally, Tamamo, once again, is the moment when the 'voice' becomes 'audible'. Only one of them. And not precisely heard, so much as processed auditorily and then the sound itself is immediately forgotten, leaving only the memory of 'having heard it'. But that means it isn't private.

    §"Here, Tamamo? Or about you? Do you mean what I hear from §Lilian Rook/Unchosen of Winter§? Or what you two say to each other~ I really don't mind at all! It's not like I wait §here/now§ all day and get bored, now. I don't even exist, you know. The answer should be obvious though. §I/she/we§ know what §I/she/we§ know. If it weren't all 'known', then how would I know what to look like when you saw me? I'd be totally wrong about it, wouldn't I? But I can't be! §Lilian Rook/Unchosen of Winter§ has one total shape, and one total way of being, and since I'm §several pieces/a cast shadow/light through the prism§ of that shape, it's impossible to be wrong about 'her'; because then I wouldn't be part of 'her', and so I wouldn't be 'me'!"§

    §"Ah, is acausality still confusing? I know you're processing most of what I say as 'words' right now, so there's something lost in translation."§
Hamada Haru Dynamic Era turns towards Petra, ghostly, half-there. Black, opaque eye lenses partially reflect light, not quite doing so properly because of their relative intangibility. It's different from looking at just Haru; he already emotes so distantly when he's just himself. The blade emerging from his transteam gun dematerializes and he replaces it at his hip, folding his arms over his chest. Defensively? Appraisingly? It's hard to say, exactly...

"Yes. Hamada Haru, --" Once again, his introduction lends the impression of a title to follow that doesn't come. There's no click of teeth to clearly signal that he actually finished, his voice just trails off.

His mind drifts. There was something (someone) hovering over his shoulder just a moment ago. There is a surprising level of comfort with having somebody 'lean in' like that. Or rather, there is an element of Haru, something incredibly important to him, for whom allowing such a thing to happen is absolutely necessary.

There's a certain amount of distance a Kamen Rider can't put between themselves and the world. As much as he hates to be relied on, the barriers in Haru's mind have a peculiar colorful opacity. 'Something' has to be able to see the 'heart', or there is no Kamen Rider. Even if there isn't one, right this moment...

@ I don't think... that 'home' is a concept that applies to me.
@ There is a lab.
@ There is a kitchen, bathrooms, and bedrooms.
@ There is no one cooking, and no one to cook for.
@ The beds are freshly made, but stale.
@ I suppose, home is the sky.
@ But there is always the dirt.

His attention slides smoothly towards Lilian.

@ You didn't expect anyone to move for you.
@ I suppose... I understand.

//I anticipate she won't be eagerly breaking him out this time.//

"I don't think she would take harm done to you so lightly," he answers. "But what she considers a suitable punishment may not be what we would imagine."

What should he even pursue? With his mind wandering, Haru isn't certain. He asides to Friz, "If you need access without ordinary physical interactivity, I can steam a locale to temporarily render it immaterial."
Stanley Padgett     Stanley gets equipped with Nitrile Gloves before touching anything with his hands, at least. Another nice thing about building codes, you can just sorta... bump doors to get them open. At least until you get places that corporate building plant isn't going to let the inspectors go.

    Stanley's eyes lock with a security guard as he leads people towards the Employee's Only sections of the building. He knows this guy. His daughter was in choral with him. He attended recitals. He works here. He knows why you're here. He know what you're doing. He was there to protest you at the school board. He was there to get you expelled. H e k n o w s.
    Stanley shakes off the thought, and pushes deeper, leading the way as best he can. But all around him, he's starting to... recognize people. People he's seen before. He thinks he's seen before. People who know him. Know of him. Know the worst things people have said about him.

    A glare at his thoughts as they coil around him. As Serenity's thoughts coil around his.

    But it's the layout of the place, the way it's positioned... so that... well. People can openly watch the fun stuff happen... the business side is all tucked away... but even that has... people able to watch all the time?

    Something prickles in the back of Stanley's mind, aside from the very angry intrusive thoughts that slide around as they move and explore.
Ishirou Ishirou sighed, he knew better than to expect his abilities to work.  They're 'unfair' right?  Why should he ever get to have them, work the way he wants them?  Why does it always feel like this?  Was he built wrong?  Was the advantages he was given somehow tainted with something?  What was it..?

He wished he could figure it out, what was off?  What was /wrong/, what was unfair... People can die and come back to life, or get their arm ripped off and regenerate from that like it's nothing.  People have giant guns, enough that they put an entire nation to shame, or command great and powerful beasts...

She said they were power, but every time he tried to use them either they weren't enough for the job, or too much and violated people's boundaries.  That is what Friz was afraid of, but in this world, they just couldn't do anything except in his presence.  So... all it could do was violate people's boundaries.  

He wants to kick that waste can over because it's frustrating.  Though he's pulled out of it by Charlotte asking for help.  "Huh..?" he asks, and looks at the phone and then the computer.  "Time doesn't work here, it won't work here.  I said that last time..." he is about to say something else, but then Lilian touches the monitor, turns on the computer... well...

Not 'turned on' but more like 'allowed to be active again'.  He shrugs and takes a moment to help access the files Charlotte wants.  "There," he says, though she likely didn't need his help for that.  He looks through the map data he got at least, maybe he can make some sense of that, as Friz doesn't seem to what his help with scanning...

Maybe he can be useful and provide her with map information..?  That shouldn't be unfair, right?
Kukuru It takes about three or four of those godawful heel clicks for Kukuru to register that someone's behind her, and another three or four more to actually turn around. Something tells her looking should make the noise less irritating, and... Actually, she's right! Familiar faces make almost anything more tolerable, and she calms down visibly when she realizes that Lilian's arrived.

"We're looking for something hot and cold, then... I wonder if it'd be closer to the outside of the building, then. So... The heat can get outside easier if there's more windows?" She suggests, clearly not thinking about the dust and outside debris issue. She'll probably realize that error soon enough, at least.

In the meantime, Kukuru lets out a thoughtful noise as she notices that look from Lilian at her outfit, and her eyes tilt ever so slightly in that telltale signal that she's smiling hopefully under her mask.

"Does this work for the job we're doing today? I remembered what Friz said, and the espino... Pesto.... Stealth experts gave me these. And if we gotta move without leaving any evidence behind, then... I think this is pretty phantasmal."

Somehow, she pronounces that properly. Also, she demonstrates by teleporting right past the janitor in the way, then teleporting right back a second later. "If anyone is worried about fitting through there or wherever, let me know. It'll take a sec, but with me and Ha-ru's steamy powers, we can get around without touching anything this way~ We've got plenty of time, right?"

Indeed, Kukuru is willing and able to teleport goddamn everyone if they're patient enough to let her, just going right past inconvenient clumps of people like they weren't there to begin with. It helps get her away from those prying eyes, too, although she could swear some of them are staring right at her. It'd be so easy to just poke a few of them out. It'd be an accident, after all. An unfortunate one, but...

No. Not now. This isn't the time. Her family and friends and several other people are counting on her to do her job right here! Hearing that familiar voice that probably isn't meant for her to here has her straightening up, too, and she looks arund several times before realizing that she can't remember what she just heard.

Kukuru knows that voice. Why can't she remember what Exigent Serenity said? Part of her desperately wants to hear her again, but... Maybe she was just hearing things. Besides, Lilian's told her about her inclinations to just say what's convenient already. She shouldn't be listening for her again, if she wants to help everyone here.

Otherwise, she's willing to let someone more knowledgeable take the lead on actually choosing a path while she aids in painless/bumpless traversal, too, but if nobody else decides on a path to go? Then she'll start nudging the group towards the nearest staircase. That should work way better than an elevator that might not even work, right? She won't notice the lack of elevators leading to the upper executive offices yet, though.
Angela "Ah, yeah, don't worry. I won't smoke inside." Rook tells Lilian.

Rook was intending to tell ADACHI they weren't here to cause a big mess but he notices a shift in Petra largely through her language. A difference in wording. "Well alright." He says, stepping back to let Petra ge to it. The problem he's having is that he doesn't know why Petra's upset. He'd prefer to have a positive closeknit relationship with his team here and sends a message through Babble directly. Getting into fights just makes it.

<Composed Commander> Jrook | Hey, you've seemed on edge with me since I got here. We good?
<Composed Commander> Jrook | Is it because of the smoking?

He actually initially thought it was about what happened with Fragments but then he remembered Lilian had told him to stop smoking right out front. Connecting this to what Petra had said--and what seemed to set her off--makes him believe he's being scolded for the smoking. He knows how devoted she is to the Commander.

Or maybe it's the intrusive thoughts that Rook is starting to notice digging into his skull. His Fixer instincts tell him to murder the janitor before the janitor can kill him, to crush the secretary before she can sound an alarm.

These thoughts aren't his, he tells himself, but the longer this is going on the harder it will be to resist. The Gear is particularly suited towards resilience but that's all it is, it's not immunity like Petra has.

Angela is oblivious for the moment because she is hyperfocused on what she can see rather than on Rook whom she can't.

To the first, he thinks. Just what the job calls for. Not glamorous for sure though I don't know if I'd call it perverted-- But he doesn't argue about his job being out to fuck him over, nor does he seem to have much to say about the man having an accident. It's not the job so he won't do it.

The second voice, however, seems to hit him more directly. It sounds just different enough that he looks to Lilian, perhaps wondering if it's coming directly from her. He can only assume that she's the one who would have the best read on him even if he doesn't really know much about Exigent.

''Are you trying to make up for having the wrong name?''

Malkuth already apologized. Barely know the others. Though there is still some irritation at being the center of that particular scandal, one he didn't ask for. I picked this one out back when I was a kid. There were a pair of Sister Offices a lot of solid Fixers from my era came from. Dawn Office and Wedge Office. I worked with the Wedge Office, and--well Fixers tend to dress pretty gender-neutral so the uniform for the women and the men aren't too different, but the women had this headband and let me tell you, they were some of the scariest motherfuckers in battle I've gotten to know. They ''cleaned'' real well.

Honestly never felt like I matched up but eventually I thought I was at least cool and capable enough to make my own office. We called it the Rook Office. I thought a name like that would fit in well and I could support my old mentors. But one day the office went ahead and took a job while I was gone against what we called the Blood Red Night. None of 'em came back so...

I know how hard it is to be a commander, to be a boss, to run things. It's not flattering and the moment you turn around it can all go to shit. So I have the upmost respect for anyone who can do that job, including the Dame Commander. So yeah, I don't want it being used to cause a woman like that grief.

He continues moving, staying near Petra for now and trying his damnedest to be careful and continue on.
Charlotte Newman     Each second ticking away in Charlotte's mind while she's behind this desk, so close to the woman who calls this her workspace, twists her experience just that much more. It's gradual at first. The general oppressive, offensive taboo that comes from just Being Here warps, oh so subtly, into a rejecting pressure. She desperately wants to not be here anymore.

    She has to, though. No matter how familiar this suddenly feels. Like when John kept her discrete while looking up info in the teacher's lounge. The day she felt, for a few short minutes, what it's like to have Reality trying to push her out of itself.

    Lilian's hand entering her narrowed field of vision jolts Charlotte out of it, jerking up from staring at her phone's disappointing 'no connection found' screen to the woman strolling by, "Uh--?"

    The terminal lurches into un-stuck time, drawing her attention back to it. She taps at the screen a few times with her thumbs, then glances back up as Lilian wanders away, "Th.. Thank you, miss Rook." Whatever she did clearly helped. But was that even intentional?

    She glances at the woman beside her, the receptionist, with a little frown. Her eyes wander to the desk while her mind wanders to Exigent Serenity's words that day at the community center. A single ballpoint pen is picked up between gloved fingers... turned around completely, and set back down in the same place.

    A little prank should be alright if it doesn't hurt anyone.

    Seemingly satisfied with this, Charlotte glances towards Ishirou, "Thank you for the help. Could I ask one more favor? Please make sure everyone has a copy of that if they want it." She closes her eyes with an apologetic smile, "I'm not-- I don't trust my connection to send images right now."

    She nods once and backs out of the receptionist's area after violating personal space and touching things. Her eyes are on her phone, glancing up only occasionally while she walks quickly to catch up, most of her attention on the map itself. Her other hand stuffs the dongle back into her bag as she goes.

    "Mister Hamada makes a good point, of course we'd be looking for server rooms...which might not be listed. But a nearby ventilation space probably would be... Ah, Miss Friz?" the girl holds her phone out to the detective to browse the map in question, "Can you make heads or tails of this? I'm a bit lost in it." Pointedly, she doesn't let go of the device itself.
Tamamo     It's not as if Tamamo is ignoring Adachi and his Heartless. She's not even pretending to ignore him, though she is paying little enough attention in his direction that she barely catches, in time, the sight of Lilian's series of reactions to Haru stopping the problem. Letting someone else handle it worked out just fine, while she waits for...

    We'll get to that, in due time.

    She can see Ishirou working, like he always does. Everything's fine, there. She hasn't heard any objections from Friz, so, Tamamo's investigative precautions must be fine, too. She can see Petra, and does spare attention for her, unlike that ex-detective, but she appears to be behaving, for now... only while observed, maybe. She can hear Touta discussing his actions, cautiously... too cautiously? No, Lilian is always at least this cautious, and so, that must be perfectly fine.

    The loud clicking of Lilian's heels. Was keeping her own, tall footwear the right choice? Tamamo had seen the little baggies Friz had brought, but didn't want to slip while wearing something she wasn't used to. She isn't really thinking about anything, including her own expression, when she gives Lilian a warming smile, on approach. That much is only natural.

    It'd be easier if she could think of only the people who can move as real. Simpler. She knows she shouldn't. Of course she shouldn't even consider that. It's not like they're dead.

    "Hmm... is that why?" Quietly asked, unexplained musing. It shouldn't be important to anyone else. The connections she's drawing are tenuous, but they're enough to occupy her thoughts while others, with far more knowledge of electronics and infiltration, work out where to go.

    Eventually, Tamamo reaches a conclusion. "To answer the method -- or, rather, the connection between this company and the wishes being granted is enough to focus upon for the moment, I do suppose. One must be momentarily satisfied with that. It will not, of course, be the same as answering that which we know must follow, which is to explore the previously mentioned 'dungeon.' Such is 'how things work,' here, is it not?"

    Her voice is a little too loud. A little too intentionally challenging, for someone as devoted and trained to politeness as she is. Being attention-grabbing, on its own, isn't unusual for her... by sight, by specific purpose, or in more deniable ways. Not like this, like she's testing how far she can push her presence, as if worried that the secretary will actually turn toward her. As if she needs proof that that won't happen.

    At last, though it can't be said to have been much time at all, Exigent Serenity responds.
Tamamo     'Or what you two say to each other~'

    "If you have heard those conversations, as well, that makes it easier, I think."

    'I really don't mind at all!'

    "Oh, I should certainly hope not. I have said nothing not meant for you to hear. Our dear Sakura is another matter, of course." They might be talking about different things.

    'If it weren't all 'known', then how would I know what to look like when you saw me? I'd be totally wrong about it, wouldn't I?'

    "Would you? You might know at least the surface of something without knowing all its depths, no? I could not know if your depths were the same." Tamamo's saying all this out loud, even though Exigent Serenity 'isn't,' if not as loudly as when she was speaking of objectives.

    'I don't even exist, you know.'

    "Now, now. You exist 'enough' for me to have pulled you from that thing, do you not? Or was it only 'then'? Just perhaps, is this a problem of 'time,' as well? We do seem to ever have a great need for it."

    When faced with obstacles she'd rather not disturb, even with Lilian offering to put everything back into place, Tamamo opts instead to take up either Kukuru or Haru on their offers of navigation, depending only on who gets there first. Even if she doesn't know either of them all that closely, she's seen enough of both abilities to respect their efficacy. This leaves more of her attention for her conversation.

    "Oh, but if you know already those recent conversations in full, I suppose that you already know what it is that I want. We cannot have that, quite yet, but let us continue to think on how it might be maintained. Might there be aught in this 'dungeon' that would aid us?" She doesn't mean 'all of us' when she says that. It's a more specific 'us.' "If there is something I truly must ask you, that I cannot be satisfied with only asking her, I suppose it would be have to be this: To your mind, what is 'love'? ...Oh, but if it is impossible for her to be wrong about you, then I suppose I had not needed to ask even that."

    It's only when Tamamo gets a chance to see the map data that's being gathered is she able to contribute to progressing the investigation of the building they're in. "Ah, this place that cannot be reached by stairs, that would seem to be more important, no? Ms. Kukuru, can you reach this place by knowing where it is, or must you also have sight of it?"
Friz     "Huh? Oh-- did I reply, or just think about the reply?" Friz wonders for a moment. Then she says, "Right-- Cooling is a great lead for us to look for. Everything that could be associated with this... heat, it always makes heat. We'll find it. Eventually." She fidgets with her tape recorder for a moment, uneasily, then nods. "Intangibility... it can be really useful. It can be really useful for this, especially. I'll appreciate that a lot."

Dirt: Uneasy glancing. Back and forth.
Savvy: Why?
Dirt: One voice, pure negative. One pure positive.
Grit: Part of the survival needs.
Moxie: What do we do with it though?
Savvy: Engage with it as a whole. Not just what feels easiest.

Savvy: You're both right. There's a lot of chaos in here, and a lot of chances that I'd be ignored for it. So I appreciate you keeping a secret, and I'll keep lying.
Savvy: I'm supposed to be the greatest detective in the galaxy though. Even if I can't walk through walls, it'll never be an absence of need.

Grit: The absence is something else.

    A chill down the spine when Rogers returns. "We need to head up. But it's elevator only. Make your own way up."
    Friz clicks her tape recorder. "Should be a way for maintenance to get up when elevators aren't running. Fire codes... There'll be something. Even if we have to go through the top of an elevator. I know I can't fit through a vent, at least..." Then, hey, an interruption of some kind! She clicks the recorder off.

    Charlotte! Friz adjusts her thick glasses as she leans down to peer at the screen. "They never call things a 'server room', even in things like this for employees... It's always something like 'data security', or 'IT main facilities'. Probably this floor... I think we shouldn't go past it, at least. I've... got a bad feeling about it."

    She's going to start looking around for a time-stopped elevator that's open on one of the floors, so that she can get out of the top using Haru's intangibility powers and head to where the data center was.
Kukuru Despite the brief pause in her responding, Kukuru does eventually nod at Tamamo while covering her mouth/mask for a quiet yawn. "Hmm? Oh, mhm! I could take us right in... Um. Probably." She explains without explaining anything for a few moments before realizing that such a statement might not be all that revealing to anyone besides herself. "... Oh! It'd help a lot if I could see in the room first, though. Otherwise, we might end up inside a couch or somebody, you know?"

A beat,  a yawn, and then she peers at Tamamo more closely. Even with the mask and goggles, it's clear that Kukuru's studying her features. It's natural to be curious about someone that has better mental facilities than she does, after all! "Do you wanna go up there with me first to check it out? Oh, but if we end up in something, it could get a little messier than Lili would like."
Tohru Adachi      "Yeah? Really now? And look at what forcing her to pick up every piece of trash lead to? Or maybe that's unrelated? Anyways, look, man, friends are cool and all, but at least try to solve the problem yourself before calling in the calvary."

     It feels as if Adachi is about to follow up this sentence by poking Dynamic Era in the chest, but he doesn't. Probably because he doesn't want to test the man's patience, and also because Lilian has appeared to make things worse. So instead, he just gives a dismissive wave to both of them, disappearing in a cloud of darkness before suddenly appearing behind Haru with his back turned.

     "Well, guess the only thing left to do is make it up to you guys now. So I'll just quietly stay where you can see me and you can... I dunno? Use me as a canary or trap bait? I don't really care."

     Despite the earnest voice, it's hard to take Adachi completely seriously, especially when he's watching everyone undo his work with the energy of a sad puppy. Well, whatever, he just exhales and shrugs, up until the voice starts speaking to him again.

     While he had a thought before about how it'd be utterly worthless to take someone else's idea, or how pointless it'd be to do a repeat of what he's already done before, the fact that he's already been stripped of what little fun he could have in this skin crawling world makes him wonder...

     "So, what's 'that'?"

     Humoring voices, Adachi's sure he's hit a pretty new low, but he's got nothing else to do so long as he's behaving, so might as well.
Touta Konoe     "The visuals aren't important. It's about the contact. 'Every contact leaves a trace'. That's Locard's Exchange Principle."

    Surprisingly Touta was somewhat familiar with such a principle, something he'd have to thank his friend Nowa about one day perhaps. Still, there's a look of uncertainty now that it's been mentioned.

    "If you can't affect the world with it, it's fine. I...I've heard, um, *heard* that phantasmal things sometimes don't leave traces. So, if it's more phantasmal thing, it shouldn't be any issue."

    "That's..."

    He can't say in full confidence it's the kind of phantasmal that Friz might be thinking of. He knows for a fact that the way he usually uses it is when it's interacting with the world and if that was the case. Damn it...It's...

    Oddly enough, even with that misguided tone in how she brings it up, there's a moment that he finds himself actually feeling a bit more...Reassured? No, it's more that it just has him think again on what it is he can and can't do. At this point though, he's sounding a lot more confident.

     "Yeah, I can know where I'm going. Definitely." Technically, that's only a half-truth, but he speaks like he's got a plan in mind. He looks back to Friz, "Detective Friz, Locard's Exchange Principle. I'm not the best with the science of it, but I know it mainly has to do with contact with surfaces, right? I know that air-borne particles can still end up falling, but as long as they stay airborne that was okay, right? As long as it all passes through without making contact with the vents we'd be safe."

    It's a question he waits patiently on Friz for, cause he knows at least that even if it's not phantasmal, he's got enough control to keep traces of that mist from lingering. One way or the other, he has some ideas in mind on how to make this work, and maybe even make this a safer bet. And it begins with Charlotte. Something he attempts to ask before she even attempts to have Ishirou share it with the others. Though if it was, not like he'd complain about that either.

    "Oi, Charlotte...You mind if I take a peek at what you got?" If possible before even attempting to scout out, he'd want to see what the general facility was expected to look like, and how the ventilation probably worked. Once he's got a decent layout of the facility in his head...He finds himself stepping over to Hamada Haru and Petra Soroka. No between Dynamic Era and Petra Soroka. "Hamada, Haru...Right?" He was pretty sure he had heard that name now, but even still he felt the urge to reaffirm. The less than familiar face cut through the tension as Hamada's thoughts were still on the sensation of that something hovering over him. Up to this point, he's pretty sure the two haven't properly met. Though he's heard him on the radio a few times, and well...There's a few things he's been wanting to say to him for a while now, but this wasn't that time. Now, he was trying to see if it was possible to get his help.
Touta Konoe     "Touta Konoe." He gives a brief introduction himself, he's unsure if or at all the guy's even heard of him. Though he imagines if he has...Well, it just means that he needs to be more earnest in how he approaches this, his gaze staring into those black lenses without fear and with a level of confidence he wanted to make sure was exuded. "You were talking to Friz about your steam right? Making it immaterial? Do you think you can do something similar with the vents...? I...Think...I think strongly that I can make sure to keep my mist from leaving traces. But, what I think doesn't matter. If it's possible, I wanna make sure that we're doing everything we can to make sure that this goes off without a hitch, and I think it's worth it. We'd probably be able to get through most of the facility quick enough if checking the vents. If you think you got enough for that and Friz."

    One way or another it seemed like Touta was going to be using the vents, it was just a matter of how safely it could be done. Whether it became a matter of trusting himself, or if a conjoined effort could assure there was no potential of mishap.

    Regardless of what happened, Touta would still continue to join with those on foot, even as they found themselves going through the receptionist's area...Doing all he can to keep his gaze from interlocking with that of the custodial staff and following the receptionist's example of avoiding eye-contact...Even if it didn't provide much help.

    Meanwhile the mist would end up traversing through the vents, attempting to simply roam through the entirety of the floor. Though not because the Touta with the group had been maneuvering it, but because of the clone within the mist that was guiding it. Hamada's steam likely would provide great support at this time, it meant greater efforts would need to be given to ensure no such particles ended up making contact with the vents and remained airborne. It's only at this time does he realize the separation between the first floor and the floors above, and the decision that had to be made...

    At which point a black stream could be seen passing through Touta's body for a moment, almost as if getting possessed for a moment. It doesn't stop his stride, but as he keeps moving with the group. His eyes find themselves gazing back towards the location of the events. Still no decision has been taken yet. Instead, he finds himself telling Friz what she'd already be told by Roger. "Yeah, vents look like they are completely closed off from the upper floors. Could keep trying on the upper floors but as far as the vents in the lower floor go..." They were a failed investment.

    That doesn't seem to stop the investigation from the other side though. So he'll be following along with the others as soon as the rest of the mist he had lingering in the original vents returned to him, at this point keeping with Friz's lead as she'd keep going for the elevator shaft.
Petra Soroka     'In reverse'? Petra hums to herself while setting the tampered employees back in place. No, that wasn't nice at all. It sucked. Honestly, if not for Lilian asking, I wouldn't even give a shit about not leaving a trace. If they're uncomfortable and confused, fucking good.

"It's even likely that Petra is right,"

    It's not like I even--    !    -- even care about what attention the Lampport kids would get if there's an obvious disturbance. Petra's train of thought completely phases out of existence when Lilian addresses her, erasing all the mental clutter of "having thoughts" in order to pay attention. It's not until Lilian moves on that she finishes her silent conversation with Exigent Serenity. I'd be long gone by the time there's actually any consequences for not being sneaky. Who the fuck cares if Padgett and Newman get in trouble? I wouldn't even want to come back to this shithole world after this.

    Petra sighs, backing away from the security guard to follow the rest of the group through a door Stanley opened. Well, Lilian does. So I do too. Which means, good behavior today.

    Petra stares at Haru's stilted, cut-short introduction for a couple seconds. Eventually, once it's obvious that he's done, she neutrally responds, "Okay." It's not like this is the time for any kind of conversation, and all that needed to be done was connecting physical appearance to the names and personalities, so this is a successful interaction.

    A couple minutes pass, until Haru makes the comment about Xion punishing Adachi. Petra's eyes widen and she stops walking all of a sudden. "Wait, what the fuck? Adachi's that *serial killer*, or whatever! That's where I'm supposed to know him from. I totally forgot." Petra considers how easily she connected with Adachi last time she was in Lampport, then discards that thought quickly. Some time later she picks it back out of the mental trash can, rotates it around a bit, and then thinks about Xion and Lilian and tosses it away again.

<Steadfast Pursuer> PSoroka | what?
<Steadfast Pursuer> PSoroka | i'm fine.
<Steadfast Pursuer> PSoroka | i dunno what your deal is today but maybe you could stop treating me like a rabid aminal for one day
<Steadfast Pursuer> PSoroka | just like as a fabor
<Steadfast Pursuer> PSoroka | favor

    Petra didn't check her phone for some time after seeing Justin take his out, and feeling hers vibrate in her pocket. Whether that's because of mission focus or because she's mad-- it's because she's mad-- isn't clear. When she finally does take it out to respond, instead of going through the process of reaching into her pocket, she just flickers and has it in her hand suddenly-- something a lot of the people have seen her do, but oddly not for a while.

    Petra wavers between asking for navigational help from Haru or Kukuru, psyching herself out on the pros and cons of each option. She wants to seem competent, and she wants to seem normal enough to ask for help without freaking out, but she also doesn't like the idea of ever being reliant on Kukuru. Squashing these thoughts together in her head for a little bit eventually leads her to a realization that doesn't involve her at all.

    "Oh. Kukuru. Could you teleport Haru up to that room, while he's ghostly? That way if he ends up inside something, it won't matter, and he can take a picture for you or something." Petra's so clever. She's so smart. She forgets to think of anything to do herself, though, and will end up following Friz if she starts getting left behind.
Lilian Rook     §Oh my. Doesn't that make it worse and not better? There's no home, no place you belong in, only a place you can go back to physically, not 'spiritually', but . . . There certainly are so many places you can't go to, either. 'Spiritually'. The way you're coming 'unstuck' now, bit by bit; I think it's beautiful~§

    'I don't think she would take harm done to you so lightly, but what she considers a suitable punishment may not be what we would imagine.'

    "So I've heard." Lilian replies, a little grimly. "There are a few people, and only a few, I can be grateful for even wanting to say so, first. And I truly am grateful. But all of that about ethical punishment and the use of prison . . ." Lilian sighs through her nose, rubbing the side of her face. "It feels too close; to people changing the rules the instant I get a hang of them. What else am I supposed to do with people like him? How can I not entrust him to someone else?"

    §Don't be like that, Stanley~ I'm not some alien trying to take over your mind, you know~ You're already in their base, aren't you? Their mothership, haha! They hurt because they're your thoughts too, you know. The Devil can't lie, only tempt what's inside you. Have you ever thought the Devil knows you better than God because she's more interested in you than Him?§

    The map data isn't too complex. Try as Ishirou might, there's just not that much information to go over; though, considering the other person reading it is a random freshly-graduated teenager, so there's probably plenty he'll see that she'd miss.

    The general presumptuousness of having the servers high up enough that building shifting can unsettle things, and maintenance techs have to go through the regular employee members. The vastly overdone number of them for a game that doesn't use complex renders; they'd be at place in some AAA studio for photorealistic games, but not a phone mobage. The way the executive offices mostly seem to ring around the exterior of the building and leave the middle part blank, in rough opposite to the farm below.

    §Isn't--§
    §That just it, Ishirou? Aren't you standing right in the middle of the ultimate 'unfairness'? You're basking in the sunny orbit of 'the girl who never lets anyone do anything without saying so', aren't you~? But, you know, you were there from the start, weren't you? Can't you think back to a time §she§ wouldn't even let anyone know? Keeping this secret from everyone was like going easy on you all, wasn't it? To the girl who handicapped herself for years just make you more comfortable with §she/I/us§ . . . Shouldn't you think thoughts that are a little less shameless~?§
    §Hey. How many times have you scanned §Lilian Rook/Unchosen of Winter§ too? You even scanned §I/Exigent Serenity/Child of Crisis§ that way. Even I hated it, you know. No wonder §'Lilian Rook'§ works those 'runes of obfuscation' into all her things.§
Lilian Rook     "Espionage." Lilian corrects Kukuru automatically. Like an overworked teacher stuck in go mode. "They won't-- Come to think of it, how do you do that anyways? It's not magic, so-- No, actually, you have no idea, do you? I can tell."

    §Don't worry, Kukuru. I'm right here. I'll always be a little bit 'right here' for you, as long as people treat you 'that way'. It's fine if you want to look away and pretend. I won't blame you at all. Sometimes that's the best you can do. But people really do stare, don't they? They stare in the absence of staring, too. Every time they pretend you aren't even there, just for bringing them food to eat. 'Read the room' is what they're all thinking, isn't it? As if you should know how. Like you can just mold yourself to their thoughts.§

    Justin Rook can look at Lilian Rook (no relation), but all she's doing is moving on from the computer desk. It's possible she could be mentally speaking to him, but it feels intuitively obvious she isn't. Because Lilian would never sound that carefree about anything. Every word is always like she deliberately chose it, even when replying off the cuff; a strike rehearsed a thousand times, to never slip up. It's only hidden in the-- come to think of it, the 'voice' doesn't have an accent either.

    §Those 'Fixer' instincts are just your instincts, aren't they? It's not like your job taught you to defend yourself. 'Kill or be killed' is something everyone knows. The way that people hide behind a million little ways of killing you without touching you, a little bit at a time, day by day . . . Don't you think it's awful you can't kill them back?§
    §Hahaha~ That's three things you have in common! Maybe you should talk about it?§

    "You're quite welcome." says Lilian to Charlotte. That's automatic too. Not careless, or unconscious; rehearsed, memorized, beaten into mental muscle and sinew until it becomes automatic. The martial arts of words. The no-self of social strike and parry and counter. Not insincere, either.

    "I wonder what this all looks like to you." she says, then. "Feels like." A pause goes by. "Have you ever wondered how you'd explain colour to a blind person? Or what it must be like to go through life seeing only shades of grey? Would you be happy, like that? Would you be able to relate to people who experience all of that you can't even perceive, even if you hid it? I do, but I've always wondered how common it is." She's already walking away. "Not that this is anything so pretty."

    §Boooo~ You were so close! Congratulations for testing the bounds, but wasn't that far too weak? How is it a prank if nobody knows! Come on! You can't earn a      that way!§
Hamada Haru Some things got lost in the jumble. Haru isn't a thoughtless enough person to leave them lying on the ground, even if there's a delay while he works through his idea of 'home'.

//You get it, don't you?//
@ I think so.
@ A little.

But Hamada Haru won't fully commit to this understanding. It isn't that he doesn't think he's most of the way there, but he doesn't feel like it's his place to confirm, either. It would be like grading one's self. Even if you have the proficiency to do it, you'll be blind to the little ways that you didn't... quite... didn't quite get it right. Or stumbled. Or skipped a word. That's why things need proof-reading by an extra set of eyes.

//Are you quite alright?//

"I don't know," Haru says, truthfully. What comes to mind is simply what comes out of his mouth, on the tiniest delay. He spends a lot of time being tired, but that isn't a real lack of rest, exactly. It's more like... so much of his time is spent spinning up about this thing or that that's bothering him, that half the time he ends up making himself exhausted even if there's no physical element of that at all.

It's easier to swing a gunblade than it is to try to figure yourself out.

Multiple people are leaning on Haru's ability to provide an intangibility field. For the moment, he seems to have committed to extending this to Friz, but somebody who stands nearby will be able to step into the mist and get a limited amount of benefit themselves.

//Anyways, look, man, friends are cool and all, but at least try to solve the problem yourself before calling in the calvary.//

"I already did that," he answers, blankly. Haru is thinking of somebody nobody present knows dying.

//I dunno? Use me as a canary or trap bait? I don't really care.//

"Then care," Haru insists.

//Adachi's that *serial killer*, or whatever!//

"Mn," he answers, a vague affirmative. He has thoughts on this, and they mostly revolve around Takuma.

//Could you teleport Haru up to that room, while he's ghostly? That way if he ends up inside something, it won't matter, and he can take a picture for you or something.//

"I'm helping Friz right now. If you want to execute on that idea, come here and I'll spray you so you can do it," he offers, gesturing loosely with his transteam gun.
Hamada Haru @ Beautiful. Ugly. It just is. To me, it is 'clear'. Like glass...

//It feels too close; to people changing the rules the instant I get a hang of them. What else am I supposed to do with people like him? How can I not entrust him to someone else?//

"I don't know," Haru admits, uneasily. "I've never been a judge of 'who should go to prison', or 'who shouldn't'. It's one thing to fight somebody and, sometimes, because you are fighting earnestly, someone gets hurt, or dies. That's just cause-and-effect. More 'harm' than necessary, or going out of one's way to end someone... I don't like that. But a part of that is being a good example. Kamen Rider is supposed to be merciful. If you're wanting to discuss the societal implications of imprisonment... I don't know. I don't feel entirely unqualified to comment, but my gut feel doesn't seem quite right. I don't mind sharing anyway:"

"To me, it seems like... sweeping the problem beneath a rug, and looking away."

Once again, a thought and the question that comes of it flows together almost seamlessly. He asks Lilian, "You want something to drink? Won't be anything fancy. Canned milk tea."

Hamada Haru doesn't know why he thought that was something that might be needed, or wanted.
Ishirou Ishirou brings up a holo display, revealing what he is finding out about the map, and what he sees (and doesn't see) about what is going on.  While he was being self-loathing, realizing that one of his strengths is data processing... while Charlotte COULD do some of what he can, he'd go over every ounce of the data.

This is when he reveals to the others the ring around the offices, where the exec offices are on the outside, leaving a ring on the inner that has no active space or identification.  He doesn't say much doing this, trapped in his own thoughts and talking to Exigent Serenity.  

Remembering those years, when she hid her real self from them. Where she tried to make them all comfortable until something was pushed.  Until she thought we were replacing her with Phony.  Instead of trying to work things out, he was wrapped up in himself.  Others were wrapped up in their own things, but nobody /tried/ to mend the fence.  

When Lilian gave a little, things were 'fine', but... were they really?  Lilian's nasty thoughts weren't /wrong/ in the end.  It was a game they were playing with themselves... that he was playing.  He /did/ love her, he put his life on the line to try and reach her... but then he stopped.  Worse, he pushed her so far that she used everything to keep his eyes off her...

Until something like this happened.  

'I'm sorry,' he finally says, 'Even if it's too late... I'm sorry.  For... how I'm acting now, for how I acted towards her.  I think... I get what she was trying to tell me.  This part of me, I hate it so much... but I just couldn't figure out how to live without it... and here I am trying to cling to it again, while also being bitter at others when it doesn't actually help me...'

'But... that was the point.  It doesn't... it just gets in the way, because I try to find the answer... to try and find the right words instead of just talking to her.'

He sighs and takes a breath.  He shuts off those sensors, he keeps them away from her.  "Hey... Lilian," he says, finally, "I'm sorry," he finally says, "For things having to be like this.  For not listening to you when I should of," he says, and pauses.  "Anything else... I want to talk about later when it's not... this."
Lilian Rook     §Mmm, but our 'depths' are the same, aren't they?§

    When it's Tamamo, it's out loud. Anyone can hear it. Not in the same way as when some had 'heard' that naked, tangible soul, present amongst their midst, but 'hear' in a way closer to words.

    §You remember when §'Lilian Rook'§ lost her leg defending you, don't you? It's not as if 'I' am studying and imitating 'her', or 'she' is turning into 'me'. We're both §entagled positions/opposite blade-edges/blood of the same chalice§ you know~ It's impossible to not be the same in every way that isn't a choice.§

    Hearing that laughter in audible form isn't really any less . . . less, than just in your heads. The space between meaningful sentiments is broken up by a mythical sound; of the joy of someone who has never worried or cared even once, thrilling and alarming, butterflies and dread falling-lurching at the same time.

    §That was a special circumstance, but even if it weren't, 'that' would still be different from 'this'. If you really want to talk like 'that' again, especially with all your little friends, then you'd really have no choice but to come to the §Dungeon/Labyrinth/Gory Wound of Wishing§! Though, you'll have to go there to fix all of this anyways; it's just that going all the way to the very core is a 'bonus'! So, you know why you're really here, don't you?§

    §You'd want masks before you go scuba diving, or space suits before you get into the rocket, wouldn't you? So I really need you all to get with the program, if you want to get at least a mask per person. You people are always talking about §securing your own masks§ aren't you? But when it comes down to it, it turns out most of you are kind of hypocrites, huh? I'll forgive you~ But it's really all I can do to keep §gates barred/pressure applied to the wound§ right now, so I can't help you if you don't have one.§

    Friz's search for elevators is functionally trivial with the map data now. Seeing as nothing wants to budge for her, though, it'll take that intangibility, or teleportation, or a helping hand to push open the emergency hatch so she can try shimmying up a rope like a workplace gym. Lilian looks at her misgivingly for a second, then remembers something, and says "I suppose you're right, actually. It's sort of a red herring, isn't it? The games are a front for wishing, so you'd never think to touch the parts that would naturally be to do with games."

§Her(?)§: Negative and positive; do you class all your feelings that way? There'll always be people who need you; do you feel negative or positive about that?
§Her§: Of course it's something else. Even if you've forgotten, even if you won't tell, §I/she/we§ know who 'Friz' really is. It's part of my roots, you know; my very being; to §reject false names§.
Stanley Padgett     Stanley narrows his eyes at that coiling whisper wrapping itself around his brain stem, the slinking feeling that Serenity brings with its words, its musings. "The Devil isn't interested in me. I'm not that important to eternity." He murmurs lowly.

    The Nitrile Gloves slip up to press against the glass of the big fishtank of a 'server room' that the little swank meeting room looks out over. Too many computers. Too many screens, all with Important Information And Data whizzing around on little screens that showed too much to the onlookers.

    And THAT is what triggers his musings over the radio.

Stanley Padgett says, "...hey have any of you seen that old sci fi movie? The one with the dinosaurs? The rich people making dinosaurs?"
Stanley Padgett says, "God what's the name..."
Stanley Padgett says, "...God, they have a movie with like a little happy DNA guy."
Charlotte Newman says, "Camp Cretaceous?"
Stanley Padgett says, "YEAH"
Stanley Padgett says, "People get to see... all the fun stuff in the front."

    Stanley grumps a bit, pacing back and forth. Why the fuck would a big budget movie about making dinosaurs and putting them into big zoo... slide into his brain like that. Up here?

    He shuffles a bit, and sits in one of the chairs. The finely upholstered, comfortable but not too comfortable, expensive, smooth motion, fancy chairs. He gets comfortable, and then turns in place to look through the glass. And he's got a perfect position to watch the action of the workers and computer people in the 'server farm'.

    Like they're on display.

    "....this is a showroom."
Angela <Composed Commander> Jrook Oh uh. Didn't mean to. Okay. Sorry.

Justin isn't sure what's going on but bothering Petra about it now isn't going to help, especially when he's hearing voices. Not from Lilian Rook (no relation) but the voice is so unlike hers--but how can you really ever be sure of what someone's inner voice is saying? He doesn't have the ability to read minds.

Well the streets did, I guess but real training came from the Office. Rook glances over to the Angela Eggpack and--sees that Angela seems normal enough for Angela. Made my peace with my death, s'long as my team gets out... But a little slip... They'll have the tools to fight back.

He stops cold. This draws Angela's attention who narrows her eyes at the Captain.

...I've caused her enough trouble haven't I? But he does consider it. He isn't frightened she'd chew his head off or anything but he is worried it would just give her more to deal with in an already tense and strange situation.

And when you start listening to the voices in your head that aren't yours, well, he's seen what THAT can do to agents.

"Captain." Angela says. "Endure whatever it is for now."

Easy for you to say. Rook thinks. The voices honestly make him think of Angela, the way she asks these questions and disects each answer, and he curses himself for thinking so as soon as he thinks it.

I'll settle for lending her my hand when she needs it. He thinks eventually, firmly settling himself on that course and trying to clear his head of other instincts but he does ask of the Commander. "If we linger too long in one spot, will it make our presence more obvious when time snaps back into place?" He asks.
Petra Soroka     There's another thing that registers in Petra's mind, belatedly. The clipped, awkward introduction with Haru is drawn out even further when Petra shakes her head and pulls out her own Transteam gun, looking between it and Haru to verify the dim flicker of recognition she had.

    "Oh. You have one of these-- er," Petra twists the clunky, brightly colored gun around. Different shape, similar weird sci-fi aesthetic. "Not exactly the same. But the same thing, right?"

    "I got it from that evil future dictator dropping it on the ground in front of me. Didn't exactly come with, like, instructions." Petra shrugs, sliding it back in her pocket if Haru isn't expressing any interest in seeing it closer. "It doesn't work like the other Kamen Rider things? Or maybe I'm just using it wrong. So if you-- I'd appreciate if you want to say anything, about that. M-maybe not right now."

"If you want to execute on that idea, come here and I'll spray you so you can do it,"

    Petra nods, a little too eager to have something to do. She feels like a baby giraffe stumbling around like this, still sick and physically incapable of all the feats she'd gotten used to. "Yeah. Yeah, that works. Spray me and then-- uh, Kukuru." Asking for Kukuru's help is only a problem if it's *only* Kukuru's help, and it being her own idea for helping eases the sting of talking to her too.

"Not that this is anything so pretty."

    "I wondered about it too." Petra was leaning against the column outside the elevator, waiting for Kukuru to finish up with other teleportations, but she pushes herself back to her feet and looks back at the reception desk, and the woman behind it, when Lilian talks. "That's probably not a surprise. Haha. Sucks trying to explain color to a blind person, and sucks to be blind and trying to understand."

    That metaphor was a little on the nose to be saying in such a big gathering. Petra crosses her arms and looks up at the ceiling. "I-- I think it's pretty, kind of. Like one of those 3D engravings. But not... clean and see-through like that."
Lilian Rook     §You already know what 'like that' is, Adachi. You know that you can reject everything by rejecting one thing they hold dear; you don't need to reject the very root of it. Killing people was always about pushing back, wasn't it? Not against anything done to you, but against the way you had to fit yourself into a choice of a million wrong-shaped holes. You didn't run off to be a mountain hermit, right? So you can reject them all, without rejecting the reason they're all here~§

    "All of that just to end up back where you started?" Lilian says to Touta. It's offhanded, but a little stinging. "My memory might be flawed, but I seem to recall you being more decisive than that. An idiot teenager, of course, but without so much asking for permission, only to not use it in the end. If there's nothing you can do, then you can say so; if you're just going to rely on Haru, that's fine. But stop . . ."

    §'Making up ways to look like you're involved', right? The performance of being present . . . Poor boy. You came back and everything is different. You don't 'get' anyone, now. Everyone changed in the blink of an eye. But you still want to be close to them, right? I wonder why you're so bad at saying so? Why you're so desperate to pretend like you're still on top of it all. You should just blurt it out like an idiot~§

    "It's sort of funny to hear you use those words in that tone, Petra." Lilian again. This time, there's a grim little smirk. "You know. 'Serial killer?!' It fit better on you back at Twin Peaks. Less so now, don't you think?" She touches fingertips to her lips for a moment in place of laughter. "Partly for the killing, but mostly because you've already decided what's worse."

    §Silvered to pasty~ Not that the way you were back then is something §I/she/we§ really align with, but you 'got it' just enough to feel it now. Not even just how things wouldn't have been this way if you were still so clean and impervious. How your flesh has broken down even more since before then. Things that used to work, that don't know. The slow entropy that always pushes downhill~ That's why 'cultivating' is so hard, after all. Even physics hates it when people are 'deliberate'.§

    §So it's normal that someone so 'deliberate' would wish for everything to stop changing without her say-so, right? §She§ pretends to not notice, but she knows; §she/I/we§'ve always known what you meant. So even if you can't stand ruining anything for §'Lilian Rook'§, at least ruin something for someone else~ Ruin them for yourself. I know you can do it. The difference between a 'rabid animal' and a 'human being' is the selectivity and creativity of violence.§
Kukuru Lilian corrects Kukuru, and Kukuru repeats "espionage" three or four times first just to make sure she gets the word right. A few more times after that, and she's confidently saying "espionage" without her usual pauses, all while pondering Lilian's question. "The... Teleporting? Oh. It's easy. Here~"

She waggles her fingers, then pops a pair of teleportation clouds into existence before her. Her thoughts, however, show no actual thought being put into creating them beyond 'put one here' and 'put one there'. "Magic! Mm... Mom and dad said it's something all monsters can do, and... I don't remember learning it. I just know I could do it even as a little girl."

For some reason, her thoughts are now filled with happy thoughts about a skeleton and a suit of dark knight-esque armor.

Kukuru lets out a pleased noise at Petra's suggestion, partially because it sounds like a good plan in the three seconds it takes for her to nod, and also because Petra's willing to talk to her again! At, to, either or. "Oh, that's a great idea, too! And even if I get stuck, I can push my way out." She flexes her arms for emphasis. Thanks to the bodysuit, there's actually some visible definition and girth! "Ha-ruuu~"

Alas, Haru's already busy aiding Friz, but he suggests another alternative involving Petra herself heading up there with the combined efforts of his Transteam Gun and Kukuru's teleportation. Kukuru looks like she's just happy to be involved, so she loiters near Haru and conjures up a teleportation cloud while realizing Petra's got one of her own. "Wow... This kind of preparation is great! It should work fine, then. Let's do it!"

While she's getting the teleportation clouds set up to get everyone further up into the room Petra indicates upstairs (possibly made easier with that visual guidance from Ishirou) (and also helping Friz with getting into the elevator if nobody else does), Kukuru hears a familiar voice. Her mood brightens visibly at first, but then she remembers what Lilian told her, and...

Things get complicated again. She knows she shouldn't be listening to that voice, and that everyone here's counting on her to be useful, but...  It's hard to ignore when so much of what Exigent Serenity(?) says sounds so right. Why DO they have to stare without saying things sometimes? It's not as though she's blind to her own failings, but.. Would it kill anyone to be more straightforward instead of expecting her to read between all those lines when even the lines don't make sense?

In the middle of creating another cloud for herself to finally go through, Kukuru pauses to smack herself in both cheeks, like she's waking herself up as she starts muttering to herself (visibly) and Exigent Serenity (not visibly). "I can't look away now. They're counting on me to pull through this time, and... I don't get all of it even right now, but... I know that whoever's doing all this up there is hurting people. I don't really get how, but..."

She looks over at her companions, going quiet for a moment upon realizing they might notice her talking to herself. She's slightly relieved when she hears that same voice talking to someone else without knowing the context, but... Is this going to get them to give her those looks again? Try as she might, Kukuru can't help but glance around a bit to see if anyone is looking at her, or deliberately trying not to look at her after that.
Hamada Haru "Transteam gun," Haru says to Petra. He bends forward and twists his neck a little to check hers, then straightens back up and nods. "Same thing. The personalization is different but it has a bottle port. Mine is the Locust bottle." Which is a lot more ominous than he ends up making it, if truth be told.

//evil future dictator//

This registers a little concern. "Oda Zi-O...? Strange that he would lose something like that..." Haru isn't dumb enough to actually think that Oda Zi-O would, but he has no idea that it was Oma Zi-O involved rather than the dictator he expects.

//It doesn't work like the other Kamen Rider things?//

"Functionality of transformation devices is versatile. One of the earliest modern models utilized wind power. You'd have to ride a motorcycle to activate it most of the time, until you obtained higher mastery. In the case of this," Haru produces his Locust bottle. What follows is a deliberately slow-motion take on its usage.

"One, shake." He shakes the Locust bottle, inhaling.
"Two, load." Socketing the bottle, he exhales.
"Three, transform." Turning the transteam gun towards himself, he inhales and pulls the trigger, producing a highly energized cloud of steam that engulfs him, crackling with electricty. Everyone has already seen him transform once tonight, so Haru doesn't feel a particular compulsion to avoid doing it.

                                    LOCUST!                                    
                                  MIST MATCH!                                  
                                  L-L-LOCUST!                                  
                                     FIRE!                                      

The appearance of the suit itself, a soft brown in reflection of a locust's body, is shrouded within the electrified cloud, which fades over time. The transteam gun itself is transfigured into a more revolver-like gunblade form, not like the 'standard' model. Much more blade than gun, and certainly not obviously a projectile shooter anymore.

Immediately afterwards he de-transforms again, apparently not feeling a need to remain in the form.
Friz Savvy: None of us--
Grit: Turns.
Savvy: ...Fine.

Moxie: I feel awful about that. If someone needs me, it means something's wrong in their life. I should want for nobody to need me. Right?
Grit: I feel lots of feelings. My survival might be their death. It's good that there's some need for my skills. It's terrible that there's some need for my skills.
Dirt: I feel good about it. Helping people feels nice, and eventually helps me. It gives me a chance to engage with positive patterns that have positive outcomes.
Savvy: I don't feel anything. Feelings are something that happen to me. The needs make whichever feelings they want happen.

Savvy: That a good answer?
Dirt: Don't say the name. You can know it, but bad things happen if you say it.
Moxie: Autonomy lost. Capacity drained. You know how it is.
Grit: To say ######## is to die.

Dirt: Found an elevator on that data.
Savvy: Moxie, bring us there and up.
Grit: Maintaining alertness. No signs of motion. Use the intangibility.
Moxie: Will do. Navigating. Let's get a view of things from on the floor itself.
Dirt: You forgot to reply to Lilian.
Savvy: What? Shit. Hang on, what did she say?
Dirt: "I suppose you're right, actually. It's sort of a red herring, isn't it? The games are a front for wishing, so you'd never think to touch the parts that would naturally be to do with games."
Savvy: Oh, okay. "Sorry, got distracted. Yeah, there's..."

    Friz shakes her head out of a weird distracted state, after a moment. "Uhh-- sorry, got distracted. Yeah, there's clearly a tight coupling of all the systems (wishing, game, temporospatial interactions) if it can all work together basically instantly. Which means proximity has to be close, or at least bandwidth has to be wide. It makes sense. No matter how good a society's telecommunications can get, causal proximity usually means physical proximity." She phases up, sounding briefly nauseous. "Is this what it's like for him...?" She briefly wonders, before getting ahold of her secret-keeping better, and ascending slowly up the ladders and other suchlike. She'll need that phasing intangibility again once she reaches the point that the data-managing others on the team have established as the data center. And display center...?
Charlotte Newman "They never call things a 'server room', even in things like this for employees... It's always something like 'data security', or 'IT main facilities'. Probably this floor..."

    As Friz explains her intuition, Charlotte follows along closely, taking in the detective's input with a little nod and a 'hm' or three of aknowledgement.

"I think we shouldn't go past it, at least. I've... got a bad feeling about it."

    The last bit knits the teen's brow in thoughtful concern, squinting at the floor plan more closely. Nothing... nothing really stands out to her, but she nods again, "Alright. Thank you, I'll keep that in mind too."

§Boooo~ You were so close! Congratulations for testing the bounds, but wasn't that far too weak? How is it a prank if nobody knows! Come on! You can't earn a that way!§

    The girl's lips tighten together, glancing back at the receptionist desk she'd just abandoned. When Exigent Serenity's voice rings out loud rather than in her thoughts, she glances up while listening. The conflict on her face only grows deeper.

    Wait. Which is it?
    You're two sides of the same coin... Miss Rook was just saying how tiresome it is to put everything back if it changes too much. You're the same... wouldn't you want similar things?
    Did I misunderstand something?

"I wonder what this all looks like to you."

    Lilian's voice pulls Charlotte out of her thoughts, staring wide-eyed at the Dame Commander as if she can't quite understand why she's being spoken to. The welcome was-- clearly automatic. That's not quite as deeply ingrained in her, but she understands. That kind of response is like a reflex. People are taught to respond certain ways to certain words. But this is an actual conversation, this is unexpected.

    Her expression fades back to pensive thought once the shock wears off, eyes dropping floorwards as she considers Lilian's words, "Colors for the blind, songs for the deaf... It's something I had thought a little about, but I never... really managed to satisfy it. I wouldn't have any way to get the... the idea of Red, across for someone who has no reference for what Colors are." Eyes closing, she lets out a sigh, "Communicating without that sort of...common frame of reference? That's really tough. I wouldn't know how

    "If you really want to know, though..." Charlotte's posture straightens, then falters when Petra answers instead. It puts her on the proverbial back foot, back to pensive thought.

    If this is her space like mister Ishirou seemed to be saying...
    Is how this feels for me just because of how she feels about me?
    That doesn't feel right...

    After a moment, Charlotte's voice comes out more quietly, "It feels like I'm violating your privacy just by being here. All I can do is apologize, but then I keep making the same mistake every second that passes by." Staring at her phone, she mutters, "Starting to figure out I'm always hurting people without realizing what I'm doing, and then never knowing what it is I have to do when I mess it all up."

    By virtue of speaking with Lilian, that means Charlotte is going where Lilian is going, radiating discomfort the entire time. It doesn't help that the other adult who hates her is also right there with them. She's occupied her eyes with her phone, but it doesn't pull much from her thoughts.

    What am I even doing?
Charlotte Newman     

    Eventually she speaks up again, "I'll-- go, meet up with Stanley. Maybe I can do something there, if I can get at the computers he mentioned. Please excuse me." She dips her head in a little bow while reversing, backstepping a few paces. Puzzling over the floor plan again, she takes a right turn into another part of the building, though isn't actually sure if that's the right direction.
Tamamo     You remember when 'Lilian Rook' lost her leg defending you, don't you?

    Tamamo remembers. The painful worry of that moment springs fresh, before washing away in her mind. The worry that she might lose her, that 'Lilian Rook' might become 'a stranger.' Familiarity is bidirectional.

    Her usual methods prevent the specifics from being revealed, showing only enough of a hint of pain at the concept of 'losing a leg' as to not be strangely unemotive. It's a game she's far too good at.

    If you really want to talk like 'that' again, especially with all your little friends...

    "I had been pondering," Tamamo says aloud, "conversation within more intimate environments than that of a large party, though I would not mind the latter. Surely, if I did, I would not be here, now." It had been alert about trouble in a town that had brought her here, initially, but it's not wrong to say that it was always about Lilian. One couldn't help but think of the connection, just from that first report from Stanley and Charlotte, even knowing that other active elites have dealt with similar enough effects to have the same surface.

    "Securing one's own mask... I am unfamiliar with the saying." Tamamo's only time on an airplane outside of a dangerous combat mission was on a privately owned craft, and she'd spent most of it watching kung fu movies. "Does it relate to play-acting? One's own mask... that is, the representation of one's persona... is it something else?"

    Considering the mention of a 'program,' Tamamo's not quite sure what it means, but if Exigent Serenity is already doing all she can, then Tamamo's path is clear. She just has to find whatever path helps her the most.

    Toward that end, and having no need to help with the Haru-Kukuru-Petra teleport bit, Tamamo finds a clear spot of floor on which to sit and begin her divinations. There's a limit to what she can do with everything outside of the people here being stopped -- she can't very well ask nearby spirits for help -- but Fate's threads are still there to follow. So long as she can see those well enough to follow them, and to see how they pull against each other whentouched, she doesn't need to cast rods to find the answer to 'What would she wish of me?'

    It's different from asking someone what they want. Surely, she thinks, what's wanted of her is to find that answer. It's not as meaningful if you have to be told.
Lilian Rook     §You're so modest, Haru~§
    §You've seen it, haven't you? Almost nobody who says 'I get it', so confidently, actually understands anything at all. Is that why 'you' get along, now? That consciousness of §how sitting stones disturb the stream§ perhaps?§

    "Maybe it even is." says Lilian. "I wouldn't be shocked if that feeling were the truth. It's probably even true that it's why I find it so valuable; letting myself look away could be the kindest thing to all parties." She hesitates on continuing, remembering a time she imprisoned and failed to look away regardless. Her nails bite into her palms.

    "It's so hard to change people. It'd be easier if they were like animals enough that they'd learn to stop after losing a few fights; at least for fear of pain. It's completely insane that they'd rather die than stop, or change. Everyone is insane. I can't just leave them alone. But I can't fix them. And I can't kill them either. But I'm done letting them try over and over and over to run over me. What option is there? How do I 'reform' or 'rehabilitate' anyone when they can't stand even tolerate me existing?"

    Tamamo, then, asks an invisible other a completely insane question. There is no mission utility to this whatsoever; less even than the other indulgences she'd entertained. And that makes Liliann to laugh with a kind of bubbliness that crosses over into fizz and crackle and lightly acidic tingling, as its own kind of effervescence.

    §You can be not-wrong without being totally right, you know~ But that's the most normal thing anyone's asked me the whole time~ You're really so special. Only you could filter out all that glassy-eyed human noise and 'lives in the balance' static to get what really matters~ Hahaha~§

    §Love is when someone is §designed/self-reified§ to be yours. It happens when someone fits you so exactly that your §moving parts§ interlock, and you §freely match revolutions§, s that you never §wear down/fatigue metal§ from them. You fall in love when you see someone correctly, and still think 'I have to have that'. That person is a unique chance, just for you, for something you were meant to get; someone precious and complete, so much you could do everything you've ever wanted with them and to them. When you §extract energy from the system§, it only gives them more, and just as you §match pace/fully interlock§ they grow a little more and surprise you~ A passion you could chase for life, but for a person!§

    §Needless to say, just like any other kind of mastery, not many people can actually fall in love. Humans mostly settle for tolerating each other. Maybe 'enjoying' one another, if they're lucky. People who are actually capable of love are usually treated like §instability/distortion/a Prime Evil§, aren't they?§

    Lilian is mercifully treated to the group actually arriving at the server floor; the cold will do something for how red her ears are. Unfortunately for her, Tamamo is, subtly, the recipient of a second flower bud(?). The first to do so.
Lilian Rook     Breaking in like this is trivial. Transteam. Teleport. Walk right past the helpless and vulnerable staff and invade their private spaces at whim. Follow the stolen map. Use the stolen keycard. Thief. Liar. Scout the exits and climb up through the shaft.

    It's Completely unfair. So much that even being used to playing dirty doesn't really serve as a perfect shield from how much it is. It's like the difference between stabbing someone in the back and smothering an infant in the crib. No, it's actually like nothing so theatrically clean. It's more violatory than that. Even if they're the bad guys, how many peopld you think took how long to have ever chance at deciding their own destiny like this? Shouldn't there be some dramatic finale? A frenzied clash of opposition? At least a little tension that isn't from the sound of your own filthy animal breath? How can you say you saved anyone, you fucking--

    The outer corridors look out over Lampport, in all its freakish stillness, through long strips of tinted windows, though it mostly seems to be for effect. Even at sunrise, the light wouldn't directly hit the opposite wall, where it might incrementally warm the inner block. The executive floor is directly accessible here, through heavily secured exits with biometric and card authentication and dual guards (were those on the map?) in two of the main corners. The doors to the servers are much the same, stopgapped with a 'clean room' checkpoint that is completely and totally irrelevant to you anyways seeing as it'd never get the filth out. And inside,

    The first thing that stands out is the literal glass ceiling. What could be considered a hamfisted metaphor under other circumstances seems directly built to spectate from above. Now that you look of it, a lot of the floor is, too; it'd been light panels from below, probably reflecting off one-way glass. The way the ring of offices matches the central view-panel above you feels too intentional.

    The server stacks appear reasonably normal, if especially tall, but the degree to which your breath fogs oh god it's just hanging there. You can see all the wet filth you breathe and it just pollutes everywhere you seems over the top for the hardware. The cables run in thick bundles under removable glass floor panels towards an oddly clear space in the very middle; what would be several rooms of empty floor if it had walls, but something appears to be missing. Indeed, as if there would usually be something to show off, there, as Stanley says.
Lilian Rook     §What's the point of hating yourself if you're not going to like other people more, Ishirou? Not just 'be kinder' or 'say better things', but really like them. No matter how much you learn, people can always see your feelings shine through a little. Even §'Lilian Rook'§ leaks them from time to time.§

    "Where did this come from all of a sudden?" says Lilian. "Towards Petra? Actually-- How does that not narrow it down at all? No, just, why now?" She's heard Ishirou say sorry a lot of times already, but, somehow, she senses enough that's different about this time to stare instead of leave. "Okay. Later." she says, flat and a little lame."

    §Speaking of Phony, you should remember one more thing she said. 'Lilian is kind for almost no reason at all'. Do you get it?§

    "It certainly looks that way." Lilian says to Stanley. "I've been thinking about this, of course. I'm certain most people don't turn these things over between missions, but . . ." She breathes out, staring up through the glass. Why doesn't her breath collect in mid-air? "They can't just be pulling the wishes out of people and making them real, can they? That'd put them far ahead of even Sapient Heuristics, but they barely seem to have any control over who gets them, or what form they take."

    "The game can't be strengthening people's desires so much that their will is weightier than 'the way things are'. So they'd need to have something that thins it out. Some way to make 'normality' so thin and frail that even a nobody can overcome it, under the right circumstances." She spares him just one look. "If Persephone came here, or Dylan, or Marc, I wonder if it'd be the same."

    §Sorry to say it will, Justin~ Ah, but I don't fully mind 'Rook', seeing as I don't have any attachment to that name. But isn't that ironic? For someone who doesn't belong in §our world§, the best you can make of it is to scurry along and hope nobody notices. But that's sort of appropriate, isn't it? You have to hide your existence §here/now§, and she has to hide her existence §there/then§; both in your own ways. Now. Tell me more about fighting back.§)]

    "Monsters?" Lilian raises an eyebrow at Kukuru. "That's what you consider yourself? Of course I'd never particularly thought to ask, but I'm surprised. I always thought you identified more with humanity than 'the other' like that. Doesn't that get in the way of your 'family' obsession?"

§Her§: That's a great answer. Thank you very much.
§Her§: But, you know, bad things can't ever happen to me. I'm her 'inverse', remember? So because she always chooses to take the consequences for everything, I'm defined by all the actions she doesn't take to get out of them~
§Her§: Except one.
§Her§: Don't worry though. It can be our secret! Once upon a time, around very bad people, like the kind you know, 'Lilian' was only a name in her heart, too.
§Her§: So I want to keep the name in your heart as well. I can't ignore that name of yours. It's not what I am.

    "Propagation of 'information' is it?" Lilian replies to Friz, stalking between the servers, glancing up and wondering if she should reach the office instead. "There's essentially nothing in the universe that can affect anything by any means faster than the speed of light; light is instantaneous, and has a speed only because that's the speed the universe ticks at. I get it." she says. It's convincing, even if she got strangely, unnecessarily abstract about it.
Lilian Rook     §Bzzt! You used 'two sides of the same coin' wrong, Charlotte~ You're trying not to view us as 'opposites', which is good, but the opposite would be 'not moving things at all'. Breaking the rules in half and §playing wrist-deep with the guts of the universe§ is in §my/her/our§ nature; the coin only flips 'conscience' or 'domination'. You're kind of neither, aren't you?§

    "You are." Lilian says to Charlotte, cold and matter of fact. Colder than the room, and harder than all the steel and titanium in it. "But I can't help that now. I can leave it to get worse, and let everyone do what they want, or I can be here and fix it. That's how everything is. That's how it always is."

    "You bleed a lot now and get through it, or you let yourself bleed a little less forever. There's no point in focusing on how much the fixing hurts. So I don't want to hear more than one apology."

    §You could start by getting mad. Not at me, but the people who made your home like this.§

    She stops talking when she hears what everyone else does. Slow, neat footsteps, clacking just beyond the glass above. Someone heading for the stairs. Lilian doesn't have to turn around to check heads, but she does anyways. Petra's existence doesn't make it easy to feel.

    §They mean breathing masks, Tamamo. That's what you're securing right now. Some of you are. §The means to breathe Their air§ is something the rest are really taking for granted, you know. Is it really just discipline? Care for others? An iron moral code? Or are they only scared? Perhaps they just don't get it, because they haven't been §choked and charred§ long enough to really, truly, asphyxiate.§

    §They won't break a window to keep themselves from suffocating. I suppose §she/I/we§ have our answer.§
Ishirou "I think some things have clicked... they're not all settled, and I need some more time /and/ don't want to overload you in a situation where you're already under stress... I can hold it in just a little longer, but I at least wanted to say... that," Ishirou says.  "I'll try plugging into the server here now.."

Ishirou walks with Lilian inside and moves to one of the servers.  Taking a breath, he realizes this might be dangerous, or start something dangerous given what Lilian has said.  Still... nothing ventured...

Besides, this is the thing he is /good/ at.  Above all others, it's finding the information, processing it, and building something that others who are experts can use.  So /stop/ bemoaning yourself.  Lilian wouldn't do that, you little shit.  

'I know... it's just been so long that I almost forgot to.  I need to... just stop hating others, stop letting those thoughts creep up in my mind, and approach others earnestly... like I used to.  It's not that I can't understand people... it's that I've been trying to understand them through the lense of a very dirty mirror...'

§Speaking of Phony, you should remember one more thing she said. 'Lilian is kind for almost no reason at all'. Do you get it?§

Ishirou takes a breath, closing his eyes.  He remembers each major moment between them... and filtering it through this.  Opening them, slowly he nods in response to ES's question.  'She really had no reason to treat anyone as nicely as she had.  She could... maybe should have taken your offer, but she didn't.  She wanted to stay here, she wanted to love us and...'

'We did a piss poor way of showing it.  I tried showing Stanley and Charlotte, but in the end the effort... maybe you are right about people, but I still want to try for her.  This means I need to do what you said and get rid of this desire to think of others so... dismissively.  To love them as she does, and not just make a show of it.'

'It hurts to admit you've been a piece of shit, but I guess you gotta make things better...'
Stanley Padgett     Lilian is there with him, and Stanley... seems okay with that. The normal flinch or twitch at her being so close is muted by the sheer weight of the world, of Serenity, of all of this around him. He slips out of the Comfy Expensive chair, and stands up to look down at the Showroom with her, the purple gloves squeaking gently as he runs his fingers across the one way glass.

    "'We can make wishes come true for anyone, anywhere' would be something they'd be screaming from the rooftops. They'd plaster that all over the Multiverse and rub people's faces in it six ways to Yuma." Stanley paces and looks from the glass to Lilian and back. "They'd need something to... to loosen the strings, huh? Some sort of... uh, medium. A focus. Something that makes wishes easier?" A blink, and he taps the glass harder. "What fits in a box the size of a wardrobe? That could grant wishes?"

    "Mr. Peck said the wishes only worked here in Lampport. NovaTech couldn't get them to work anywhere else. Needed to be here." He frowns even more. "What if it isn't a *what* they've got locked up in a box, Lilian?"
Angela Justin Rook doesn't belong in their world.

He's felt that almost since their world got connected to all the others. He feels out of place on this mission. He can fight and kill but as that voice says--that's something anybody can do. Just because he's a little better at it than most--and not even better all than some--what does that even matter? He wasn't even a big fish in a small pond, he was a slightly above average fish in a small pond.

Too expensive a piece to just throw away, but one made to be spent.

As Ishirou speaks to Lilian, he tenses sligtly as he speaks of his lessons and what he's learned but he doesn't seem so perturbed as to let it linger. It's less about what he says as it is the timing of it but Rook has always been concerned with the time and the place. It's a wonder he isn't with Records but maybe that is why he's in Control.

Did she? .... Hah... He closes his eyes and tries to remember the dream he was sold years and years ago. A world where those with the will can have the strength, a world where those without strength can be given will. We pray that one sin will result in a hundred good deeds. He looks to Angela for a moment and adds, Not that the 'One Sin' is any consolation to the one who has to pay the price. Those that belong in your world. Any of my team be able to qualify for that? What about her? Or her?

For me, I dunno. Do you think there's room for one who found a way to be comfortable in the world that is in the world that will be? Maybe you can only really have one world that fits you in life.

He quiets down a bit, drawing out Penitence as he olds it close to his body.

Angela connects to the servers herself. She's not a hacker, but she can assist Ishirou in going through data quickly.

"Shit, can we give chase? They probably have the whatever-the-fuck."
Charlotte Newman     
§Bzzt! You used 'two sides of the same coin' wrong, Charlotte~...§

"You are."

    Charlotte's attempt at a retreat is stymied by the corridor she ducked down having no outlet. It's... It's just a smaller meeting room. This one doesn't even have windows. Sheepishly, she comes back out

    I'm neither? What's that supposed to mean?
    Neither conscience or domination?

    Between Exigent Serenity and Lilian's words, Charlotte remains quiet, falling back in and eventually joining the group that converges on the server room. She wanders amidst the tall racks of hardware, lost in thought, until stepping out into the large open space in the center. It's here that she stops, looking down at the offices below, blissfully ignorant to their being observed.

    Hearing footsteps that aren't her own, Charlotte first looks back where she came from, then up at the translucent ceiling above. The fact that both are see-through catches her off guard, at first, and she stares upward for several long, choking seconds. Something Exigent Serenity had said moments ago runs through her mind again.

§You could start by getting mad. Not at me, but the people who made your home like this.§

    Or maybe something more...

    Her hands go to the strap of her purse, clutching the fine leather so tightly that it creaks as it twists in her hands.

    The people who did this to me.

    Charlotte's hands move, sliding down the purse strap to the clip that fastens her bat. Without taking her eyes off the glass, she unhooks her weapon. Giving it a spin, the girl settles her grip. The lost expression on her face suddenly sets into determination.

    Galatea.

    Turning in place, she speaks up, "Mister Ishirou, miss Angela, let me know when you have all the data you can take." The Living Statue twists out of her silhouette, chains wrattling as she manifests above and behind Charlotte.

    "I'm going to do something selfish before we leave and I'd rather not get in your way."
Hamada Haru @ Understanding is difficult.
@ Understanding means that you have to look under the rug.
@ Understanding means deciding to do something, or not do something.
@ It's easier to never lift the rug.
@ It's easier to choose nothing.
@ I don't...
@ Want to choose nothing.
@ But I don't think I always choose 'something' well, either.
@ Is it better to choose wrongly, but choose all the same?
@ I think so. I think it is...

"We aren't made to bear every burden," Haru says, to Lilian. "And not everyone is prepared to change when you need them to. Even if they are, it might be that... that need, being the inciting element of change, is inherently too late to be of help to you. Controlling for the consequences of every potential mistake-- there is only so much that an individual has to give to that, even if they have the 'ability' to do it at all times."

"That is why Rider Services surrounds each of its Riders--" Except for himself, but he doesn't add that thought out loud because it's a complicated side-topic, "-- with a team of their own, capable of enduring their trials with them."

//How do I 'reform' or 'rehabilitate' anyone when they can't stand even tolerate me existing?//

Tinkering with his transteam gun, Haru fabricates from a swarm of nanomachines -- certainly NOT a standard feature -- a plushy, squishy 'can' of milk tea.

"Catch," he says, tossing it towards Lilian. There is a thought he doesn't verbalize-- if you're going to squeeze something, squeeze this.

After a moment or two, he adds, "If I knew how to get people like Tachibana to listen, I would've already taken those actions. When it comes to those who are even worse, I am at even more of a loss. In such scenarios, I am most inclined to simply leave, but... I don't think that's helpful advice to you."

The fact that he is following along to the server room... is almost immaterial to why he's here, at this point. It's necessary that he continue to occupy this physical space, and he will continue to support as seems desired or needed, but the problems of this place aren't so much an immediate concern to him.

Though, he is keeping an eye on where Friz is relative to himself and Lilian. Evidently he's inclined to take the detective at face value and defer to her expertise on poking around in a place like this.
Touta Konoe     "All of that just to end up back where you started?" It's actually not a little stinging...It's an outright searing sensation.

    "My memory might be flawed, but I seem to recall you being more decisive than that. An idiot teenager, of course, but without so much asking for permission, only to not use it in the end. If there's nothing you can do, then you can say so; if you're just going to rely on Haru, that's fine. But stop . . ." He remembers being that teenager. Doing reckless acts because he thought in the moment they were right, going as far as punching a certain person in the jaw that very well could have killed him, to helping someone he thought needed it, and helping without care for. Saying the things that came to mind, telling people that acted too smug to just 'Shut the hell up'. Not being afraid to start a fight if it got there, even if it did mean apologizing later. It felt honest...It felt more...Genuine than now. Yet...

    "Yeah, I recall. Maybe I was a bit more decisive, but just decisively making reckless decisions just to beat on my chest that I did something without thinking about the trouble they caused others is what made more of a mess...We have the time, so I don't have to rush it."

    It's the more mature response he feels like he can give. It's an answer that actually does come from those memories, those experiences, it's an answer that comes from the knowledge of someone that he knows is better than him, how a person that could properly help people, worlds even would have responded. There's so many people here, plenty who are capable that it's fine if there's something he can't do. But it's better than doing something that makes things worse, that puts things in the negative...

    Before foreign voice can attempt to wiggle its way into his mind...There's a more familiar voice that he hears instead. *Even for someone as half-assed as you, that's a half-assed excuse and you know it.*

    "'Making up ways to look like you're involved', right? The performance of being present . . . Poor boy." He's wanted to find an answer, to provide something that offers more than a repeat of what another does. Honest. Though, perhaps copying others is what he's just innately suited to. *Poor boy*, it's a phrase that no one would think of him. That's fine by him though...

     *Is it though? I mean, maybe that's how you're trying to act after a few years aways. But if /she/ has you figured out, than clearly Lilian's thinking the same, right? I mean, you've been saying you'd be twenty at this point, but the fact of the matter is that you're really only--*

     STOP. I...

     A thought to a simple conversation comes to mind. The details are still a bit fuzzy, but he did recall just enough of the conversation and the words he'd been given when someone had put a threat on his life so casually...

    Touta says, "And are you still that strung up? I thought you had better things to do than get vengeance on a kid."
    Lilian Rook says, "Don't play the kid card."
    Lilian Rook says, "That option select is just awful."
    Lilian Rook says, "The one where you're a big deal when you want to impress someone but just a kid when it'll bend someone out of shape."

    Even after nearly all this time, it is one piece of advice from Rook he has remembered rather well. So to hear that word, even if only from ES is...Even if I'm stuck looking like one for eternity, I don't want to use that anymore...I don't want to be seen as using it. That's why I have /that/ too...So I can at least try to be taken seriously...

    "You came back and everything is different. You don't 'get' anyone, now. Everyone changed in the blink of an eye. But you still want to be close to them, right?"
Touta Konoe     *Mmm, think she only got it partially right on that one...* He knows since he's come back things have been different. Though it's not just because things changed. He changed, or at least tried to. To learn from past mistakes, to try and do things more maturely. To take from the behavior of those he knows were better suited to helping people. For that reason trying to act like someone nearly polar opposite to who he once was, but someone who had been able to save the world. That's the person he's been trying to aspire to, to change into. At the same time, if the Touta Konoe of then and the one of now were to meet, it'd be fair to say the two might seem unrecognizable. Yet, in a

    *Everyone's colder to you now...Because of what you did then...In fact...Wasn't there another part of that conversation that came up back then...Oh right...Cause you were a bad influence... What did you get told...? 'Perhaps you should wonder why your diseased touch creates such an effect, Konoe.' Just think...You literally could have seen this all coming, don't you think?

    And you /know/ what happens next, right? You've already had it happen a few times already right?*

     "I wonder why you're so bad at saying so? Why you're so desperate to pretend like you're still on top of it all. You should just blurt it out like an idiot~"

     *On top of it all? That's giving you a lot of credit isn't it? But she's right. Blurting it out, just diving in even when you knew it wasn't guaranteed. Didn't that feel right? Like you could still climb up at least? Isn't that why you wanted to help Tachibana? Cause even when everything's changed, she's still got what you used to have. Or what you wanted to have? Only she does it way better. And you know what happens if you act like that now, right...? You've seen it happen when you blurt it out...And you've seen what they did to her too...The only difference is...*

    Despite E.S.'s influence up to this point seemed to be more painful than much he's found himself bearing in a while. It has him thinking on the thoughts he's really been trying to not bring to the forefront. Things he's buried down with trying to do better, to validate this change...This persona...Though now as he's charged with a lack of discretion, an inability to act that lingered from a time once long ago...When he thinks of what would happen if he blurts it all out...When he speaks his mind...When he acts with his heart...

    *You'll say the wrong things...You'll end up making the same mistakes...And when they finally decide to hunt /you/ down...No one will 'get' you. No one will be 'close' enough to care...When that happens, when you need them the most...It's not that they won't be there...It's that they'll be the ones staring you down...Like in this place...That's when you'll know you're really alone...*

    As Lilian finally goes up with the others, Touta finds himself not even capable of at least staying with them. He's not even made it back to where they were or kept pace. Rather...He finds himself looking back to Tamamo as she begins her divinations. Someone he's found close to for guidance as she begins searching through fate's threads. At this point he sits down beside her, his face to the floor and with a voice that just honestly makes it uncertain whether it's a question on whether to act on what she finds...Or something else...He speaks up.

    "Miss Tamamo...I don't know if I have the discretion...What should I do...?"
Friz     "Except you." Friz rambles absentmindedly, wandering closer to Lilian than to Haru, but still near both. "Right? You, I think, probably affect things before light would say so. I know it's not about 'fast' though, for you, but you still get things done before light has a chance to catch up." She turns to look back at Lilian for a moment, while she stalks between the server racks, while she deliberately takes off her jacket and uses its fabric to disrupt the breath-fogging concentration to keep there from even being a flicker. Even when it makes her too unbearably chilly.

    There's a shade in the corner of one's eye that's standing there, smoking and regarding the gap where something once was. No, it's just the ghost of a cigarette and the shade of a man, invisible. He kneels down to examine things, and Friz gets out her tape recorder so that she doesn't sound like an absolute freak talking to herself. She barely taps the record button, and the tape isn't spinning in her hand when she converses with the ghost.

"Whatever was here, it was the real key to stuff." He mutters. "Did it move when things froze? Did it get moved before things froze? Bet there's traces."
"Something missing, there's something missing... I need to try to analyze this. Find where it is. They were *proud* of it, so... they wouldn't keep it in a trace-free way. It'll have left traces when it moved, or was moved. Whatever was in the center of this data center..."
"Gonna have a hell of a time catching up."
"We'll need to move fast if it wasn't affected by the pause. But if it wasn't then we can use its traces to mask ours and accelerate more."
"Smart. No use crying over damage already done."
"Spilled milk principle. We'll figure it out. As soon as we find the traces."

    Friz kneels down as well, careful to brace her knees with soft paper constructs that prevent leaving a single mark or trace. She examines it, gathering forensic data, finding out as much as she can about what just went missing.

    But she's still thinking about what was said to her.

Savvy: Little bit greedy to keep names like that.
Moxie: It's not our choice, though, really. She already knows.
Grit: She's known the shape of it forever. Syllables don't matter, known or unknown.
Dirt: She's got a very different reason... but I think she gets it.

Grit: You understand.
Grit: You would die before treating this without the respect it's due.
Grit: Even to 'get out of' something.
Grit: Even if 'die' doesn't mean much, or means everything, to what you are.
Kukuru "Is 'monsters' bad?" Kukuru asks Lilian with genuine curiosity in her tone, pauses for a moment, then strokes her chin. "Nobody else at home had a better word. I know dad said they tried nonhumans for a while, but a lot of people from his generation didn't like it because it was too..." She struggles trying to remember the terminology. There's some vague memories floating around in her head about being considered lesser humans, but she doesn't vocabulary for that coming to mind.

"It... Mmn. It does get in the way sometimes, yeah." She admits with a light sigh, tightening her jaw a bit under her mask at the sudden ache in her heart when Lilian mentions 'the other'. Try as she might, maybe that's all she'll ever be to everyone. "I mean, I like humans a lot, you know? They're so neat to be with, and they have so much stuff going on thaaat... I can't help but want to have them be part of my family, even if I can't be one, and they can't be like me. But you knooow... If I had my way, everyone back home and everyone outside of it would be one big, happy family with The Concord."

Her mood brightens up at that. "Then we'd never have to worry about fighting over stuuuff, and we'd be able to help each other the best ways we can, and we'd be able to come up with ideas that make everyone happy instead of fighting each other over..."

Thoughts of a space station come flooding back into Kukuru's head, of fighting against several people she still can't bring herself to hate, and of a leader dying in her arms without being able to save anyone, all because nobody can ever agree outside the Concord. She goes quiet again with a visible sag and withdrawal in her shoulders, just in time to start hearing Exigent Serenity's voice once more.

Considering what (little) Kukuru knows of Lilian and how much more she's seen of her, the unfairness of what Exigent Serenity tells her is particularly striking. "That sounds kind of unfair..." She murmurs in response to the inverse comment, then realizes that you can hear me in my head, can't you? It still gets her thinking, though, trying to puzzle out what that one thing is, but reading between the lines has always been pretty hard for her.

Now is no different, of course. Can't she take more actions for herself instead? I don't want you having to deal with the problems, either, but... It's not fair to either of you. Can't we put the consequences on someone else instead? Sometimes? Like how you showed me before. There's a bit more lightness again, at remembering how it felt to smash that guy's phone. It doesn't always have to be Lili or you.

Some of that confusion returns as She mentions bad people, Lilian only being a name, at keeping Lilian's name in Kukuru's own heart, and especially at my name? Oh, I know you wouldn't ignore my name. You're giving me so much more attention than I usually get from humans, and without any of those stares. I really appreciate it, Exi, and I wish I knew how to show it better to you both than just saying it.
Kukuru Kukuru doesn't feel a lick of guilt at cheating her way inside, at violating the privacy of this place, or at doing something none of these frozen people could even begin to imagine. Why would she? She's doing this for her friends, and these people... As far as she knows, this company could have joined the Concord at any time. These people could have come to her family at any time. She doesn't have to feel bad about any of this, even if the lack of a dramatic finale might be a little disappointing.

Still, Kukuru isn't above using her teleportation powers to help everyone get around as much as they need to, to spread their filth everywhere. Someone else can deal with cleaning it, anyway. Thanks to the mask, most of her breath stays out of sight, but she can still see a bit here and there in passing. Good thing she's not the one cleaning all of this up later. She can see where there's a weird gap in the center of the server stacks, but what actually was supposed to be in there?

"Do you think that's where the... Important wish stuff used to be?" Kukuru finally speaks aloud again, furrowing her brow while wracking her brain for server rack knowledge and coming up completely short. That's not nearly as relevant, though, as what that might imply, and that's one of the few lines she can read between! "Do you thiiiink... They knew we were coming, and got all that stuff out before we came?"

It feels like a stretch to her, but she can't help but have it stick in her mind. "Or... Do we have to come back here to get it in the Reversal?"
Petra Soroka "Partly for the killing, but mostly because you've already decided what's worse."

    "Uh-- ah." Petra drops her indignantly upraised hand with a lame little noise. "I guess it is kind of silly. It just-- I was just kind of surprised. I-- I really shouldn't be, at this point."

    Despite the slightly joking tone of Lilian's response, Petra feels sort of guilty, in an abstract way. She did just exclaim without thinking-- but what does it mean that 'without thinking' in this case made her sound like she did a year ago? It's not an excuse, that she did it thoughtlessly, since reacting that way still came from some true part of her, that still gets childishly aghast at sharing spaces with murderers. Who knows what else that part of her might say or do if she stops thinking again, and doesn't have anything else filling in?

    The solution is to treat Adachi like dirt. That's usually the solution, one way or another, and Lilian loathes him anyways. There's no questions of what degree of punishment is appropriate or whether he deserves to go to prison, with Petra; any transgression against Lilian at all is grounds for retribution far exceeding the severity of the mistake, and it's not like she has any systemic power to wield, for once. Petra takes a deep breath of inert, cold-smoke air.

"Well, guess the only thing left to do is make it up to you guys now."

    "God. Make what up?" Petra exhales halfway when walking past Adachi down the hall, not looking at him. The rest is spent on nasty words, casually tossed to hurt for the sake of hurting. "For a killer you sure do act more like a corpse. Why are you even here? No one would notice if you weren't, and your pathetic attempt to do something got undone in seconds. You might as well be frozen too. It's embarrassing for you to have even less of an impact on the narrative than the girl who literally admitted that she has no reason to exist last time." Charlotte gets caught in the crossfire, of course.

<<§Silvered to pasty~§>>

    Petra's mouth gapes open in huffy shock, and she's so taken aback that she accidentally responds out loud. "Ex*cuse* me. I can *tan*." She stops, then winces awkwardly, pointing to her head as explanation.

    I'm just wearing my jacket all the time instead, so I haven't, at all. Even if it's all scarred up now, for some reason-- I know the reason. Being split open was just the only way I could trick physics to get here, like cutting through air resistance-- it still feels wrong to let people see. You probably wouldn't agree with that, though. Maybe I shouldn't either.

<<§So even if you can't stand ruining anything for §'Lilian Rook'§, at least ruin something for someone else~§>>

    God. I want to, obviously. You know I'm thinking about it all the time, whether or not I'm here. I'm just always worried that every bad thing I do that's not for her sake is going to hurt her accidentally, or reflect on her badly. I don't *do* well when I'm doing things for myself.

"The personalization is different but it has a bottle port."

    That's so much simpler than Petra thought it was. She turns the gun over while Haru talks, inspecting the bottle port and contemplating her lack of a bottle. After a few seconds, she blinks and pulls the bottle of extracted Silver out of the other pocket in her EGO jacket, comparing the size.
Petra Soroka "Oda Zi-O...?"

    Petra knows which evil future dictator it actually was, of course, but that name sounds similar enough that she just doesn't notice the difference at all. It *could've* been Oda Zi-O this entire time, and Petra can completely believe that she's just been saying it wrong and everyone's been silently making fun of her for it. "I mean... he gave it to me on purpose... but it was just sort of a gift."

    Petra finally pushes the Silver bottle into the slot, sliding it in with a perfect little click that jolts through the stagnant air, making Petra wince. She watches Haru detransform, breath held like she's bracing for something, and turns the gun around. Then she lowers it, and pops out the bottle. This isn't the time for a first transformation. Petra isn't a main character, but even she can feel that. All these eyes staring at her, expecting her to fuck up like she always does-- and it's not even just the frozen ones. Lilian must feel horrible. I wish the rest of them would fucking leave. Why couldn't those stupid fucking kids who live here have gotten stuck too? It's not like they're any more important than any of the other random drones in the street.

    Petra considers the idea of doing exactly what they're doing to Novatech to one of their homes. Treating them like inanimate nobodies, whose boundaries can be ignored and violated, with auras that make her want to gag and feel validated in that disgust. She could do it, too, even if they're pretending to be people enough to move. It just feels... a little pathetic, still? I guess this is what Lilian means about it not being worth being angry all the time. I can't even think of ways I want to hurt them. She sighs. 'Selectivity and creativity of violence', yeah. I can figure something out.

<<§Love is when someone is §designed/self-reified§ to be yours.§>>

    Petra isn't as lucky as Lilian when it comes to suppressing her blush, since it comes on far quicker and more strongly without reservation. Her murmured request to Kukuru for the teleport is made both more awkwardly and more easily than it might've been otherwise, with Petra looking down at the ground while §she§ keeps talking to Tamamo. A few back and forth teleports later, and the group is successfully at the server rooms.

"Some way to make 'normality' so thin and frail that even a nobody can overcome it, under the right circumstances."

    Most of the server room is incredibly uninteresting to Petra. She doesn't really care about Novatech, she doesn't care about Lampport, and every wish she's heard about has been pathetic and soulless, anathemic to the kind of wishing that she's used to. Which would be enough for her to shrug the entire plotline off as a parody of wishing hacked together by some corporate freaks in a hollow town of nobodies, if not for what Lilian just said.

    "-- Huh? Using tech to make it so that people don't need to overcome the full normocausative pressure of reality to change it is just-- what Applied On-- Huh?" Petra scoots closer to Lilian, weirdly urgent. "If it's-- if it's actually that kind of thing, then I'm taking it. At the end of this. I-I-- yeah. I-I-I need it. Do you actually think that's... how it...?"

<<§choked and charred§>>

    Petra is likely the least surprised of anyone at that voice. Taking another breath of air, Petra balls up her fists, § communicating what words don't precisely. ... I'm definitely going to kill him soon.
Kukuru Sensing Petra's awkwardness at the requests, meanwhile, Kukuru's mood improves again! Thankfully, she's wearing a mask, so nobody can actually see the relieved smile starting to spread across her face. It's just the pick me up she needs after having some of those darker thoughts seeping further into her mind.

Her thoughts and general vibe, along with the very slight hop in her step afterwards, do kind of make it obvious to some people that she's happy about it, though.
Tamamo     Tamamo is familiar with these threads, though not all of them. She takes her time in tracing their shape, and is only dimly aware of someone approaching her. She's delayed from joining the other up stairs, but it's not like there's a problem with that. They have all the time in the world, and nothing can hinder their progress, whenever they might choose to make it.

    "Ah, I see. So, it is like that." A more understandable meaning to her revelations might have gone entirely unspoken, were it not for realizing that Touta's by her side, and asking her a question.

    "To be aware of one's limits... should be said to be a good thing, Konoe-san. However, this is a situation in which there are risks that must be taken. She did say this, did she not? That it is all she can do to hold the wounds close. Were you near enough to listen? If one is to assist, one must make a commensurate effort. That which is asked is different, this time, than it may often be. It is so much more common to be asked for either blood or secrecy. In this place, however..." Slowly, she rises to her feet, brushing away the dust. If she minds the whispered sense of filth that can't be purified, it doesn't show in her tone or expression.

    "Those expectations that are placed upon us as those who live within civilization -- it is difficult to avoid them, of course." Her voice is sympathetic, her aura bright.

    "To act recklessly, without forethought, without planning, what might happen should one continue to do so? And yet, if no safe answers can be found, what might occur, should one be indecisive without end? One must choose, then, whether to do and to risk, or to accept only what is given. Ah, is it unclear? I know that this may seem quite abstract, but this is an unusual situation in which we find ourselves. You might best think of the crushing weight of expectations as no less dangerous than a stone upon your body, for what shall soon be upon us. You might instead take the risk of how you may fare without her help, of course. That, too, is a choice. Oh, please pardon me a second time; that was no clearer than the first, was it?" By now, she's followed up to where everyone else is, and is no more impressed with the server room than the next person. The glass does catch her attention, but her curiosity in it hasn't focused.
Tamamo     "There are times, Konoe-san, that you might be best served by backing away, and keeping only to your own business, where a show of your sincere feelings is not enough to earn another's trust. There are other times in which you should put yourself forward, and take the risk of making a mistake. Your core being compels you to do so, does it not? You hesitate because you seek the wisdom of discernment, yet the fact of 'risk' remains. I cannot say which situation this shall be, for you. For my own part, I have my answer, because..." Tamamo's eyes slide over from Touta to Lilian. That should explain enough.

    "The efforts asked of us are to destroy that 'weight' or, at the least, to push it away, to assert the self, even at the expense of another. This is not without costs, and you are free to refuse, and to instead cleave to a common sense of goodness and decency, though this will place a different cost upon you." She has a second flower, now. "Do you understand? And now, if you will pardon me once more, I shall do something rudely self-indulgent."

    Stepping away, she doesn't have to go far to reach Lilian. The distance from that point to Tamamo putting her arm around Lilian's waist is more figurative than physical. It's a distance of 'this isn't the time' and 'people (even people who aren't frozen) are watching' and 'she's talking to someone' and 'she has a drink in her hand.' Crossing that gulf in an instant, Tamamo brings her other hand to Lilian's chin, tilts just so, and draws in to kiss her lips.

    She holds just long enough to be considered 'too long.'

    "Like 'interlocked parts' that never 'wear down,' is it? I do see the reason, the... structure of such a view. Thank you for sharing it. I shall think upon it."