#I typically like seats towards the side of the stage - i need that tiered seating boost but also an angle to try and see Ash lol
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kindahoping4forever · 1 year ago
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i was way way in the back (i'm old now the bones n body can't do pit/vip/soundcheck anymore) so i don't have much if any. they talked about the moon once bc it was huge and ash missed the opportunity to promote superbloom as a pun within "super blue moon" but alas, he wore a vesty vest tonight so i'll forgive anything
Oh trust me, I feel ya, I am but a nearsighted 5'2" girlie with chronic pain, I don't do GA either! 😂 But you're right, no matter where you are in the arena, the vesty vest (and obviously the show itself lmao) is worth it 😌
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keweenaw-biologist · 4 years ago
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I’m quietly working on something, one piece at a time.
Posting just to keep myself motivated. To call it... rough... would be generous. I’m just a nerd who like science fiction and needs to keep busy. 
Working title: Phoenix Burning
Chapter 1:
March 38th, 2158 : Local Date
16:00 : Local Time
Vazov Military Academy, New London, Terra Nova, Planetary Republic 
The Academic Hall was the largest and most prominent of the various halls and buildings of the Vazov Military Academy campus. Its tall cathedral-like main corridor is a temple to accomplishments of the military and in particular, its schools namesake, Fleet Admiral Luka Vazov, The Hero of Columbus III.  Images and explanations of the events from the Battle of Columbus III adorn a large section of the grand hall. Under his command, a small fleet put its back over the city below to take as many hits from Alliance railguns as possible to avoid planet fall on the city below. His handful of ships managed to hold off long enough for a main battlegroup to arrive and beat back the Alliance ships. Ultimately, all but 6 of the local defense fleet's original 21 ships were lost in the battle. The Admiral's flagship, the PRS Napali, was not one of the survivors. It broke up somewhere over the planet's southern ocean. In honor of his heroism in command, they renamed the Military Academy on Terra Nova, his home colony, after the Admiral. 
Each end of the grand corridor stands floor to ceiling windows that create an almost unimpeded view from one end of the campus to the other. On most days the well manicured lawns that the windows overlook would be filled with students, conversing, studying, and moving between buildings. Today that was limited to moving between buildings. the annual rains had set in and a downpour had soaked the campus and its occupants. Students ran from one building to the other, trying and often failing to keep their uniforms dry below their inadequately rain proof, uniform coats. Max made a mad dash from the nearby FTL Research and Design Center toward the heavy doors of the main entrance to academic buildings' grand corridor. The rainwater on the waxed floor made for a slippery situation that nearly had him face plant into the base of the statue of Vazov just beyond the entrance. Max opened his coat and shook himself off from the rain. Pulled his hand through his soaking dark hair. Straightened out his shirt, and name plate. “CDT. Maxwell May'' it read, inscribed in black letters on the silvery metal. Max slipped through the crowd and made his way from the entrance and down the corridor. He never really felt like he belonged in this building. The only upperclassmen classes here were part of the Command School. Of which he was not a part of. He never felt he had the charisma for command. His short stature, thin frame, and narrow face didn't feel like the features of a person who led sailors into battle. 
He turned another corner and came to the door to the lecture hall of his class. “Command 4356: Fleet Battles Tactics of First Contact War'' read the scrolling sign over the door. As always, his only friend in this part of campus waited across the hall, Cadet Alina Al-Hassan. She wasn't the kind of person he would have befriended on his own. She was tall, strong and the typical Command Line Cadet. Charismatic and extroverted, it felt like she had more adopted him than befriended him. She was a born and raised Earthling, a rare sight these days. Most people he'd known born on earth wouldn't let anyone forget it. She was much less braggy about her homeworld heritage. He thought that said something about Alina that he always appreciated. she never saw herself as above anyone. 
Her hand reached for Maxs shoulder, spinning him around. She was a full head taller than him and he had to look up to meet her gaze. “May! You're late” She’d probably never used his first name in the years of their odd friendship. He had for some time thought she might not even know it, despite it being printed on his chest. 
“You're early, I'm on time.”
“Go” Spinning him back around, and pushing him toward the lecture hall door “We're starting Aurora Prime, and I'm not getting stuck behind Johnson the Giant again” Her hand continued to push Max down the stairs of the tiered lecture hall and down an aisle. 
He had been dreading this day for months. Max’s father had been killed during the battle just over 20 standard years prior. His mother was pregnant and living on Thio II when one of his cruisers' fusion plants failed and containment was breached. Likely vaporizing the entire crew as the ship was blown apart. Mom once told him that his father was a brave and dedicated engineer and would have been there doing everything he could right to the end. Meaning he would have died instantly, never knowing the pain of plasma burns, or worse, being expelled into space. Mom considered this knowledge to be comforting. As a 10 year old learning why he had never met his real father it was a horrifying thought to imagine his father being vaporised by a burst of artificial stellar plasma. As an adult, he realized, She was just doing her best to comfort him in her own way. She didn't like talking about his dad, maybe the memories were just too hard for her. 
 His newly widowed mother boarded a transport back to her homeworld of Terra Nova. She met his step father, and they'd had a relatively normal life together here. But his fathers ghost seemed to hang around. When the time came to figure what to make a career out of, going to the Academy and joining the Navy seemed like the best way to honor a man he had never even known. His step father wanted him to come work in shipyards like him, but he had no interest in welding hull plates for living. He wanted a life in those ships, out in the black, not building them. The Academy was a way out. 
“Commander Duval isn't going to call on you anymore just because he can see you better.” He said with a roll of his eyes.
“I'm going to get Duval like me one way or another. I'm getting that recommendation even if it kills me” Shear determination in her voice. He felt her hand clench on his shoulder as she said it. The pair took a seat down the aisle from Cadet Johnson, near the middle of the lecture hall. 
“You seem awfully unconcerned with recommendations?” But before Max could respond “You didn't? Did you!” She playfully hit him in the shoulder.
“No, but I'm just not that worried about it, Captain Wills already promised me a spot at the FTL Center at Saturn Yards if I didn't get another assignment I wanted” 
“So you did get a recommendation!” playfully hitting him again in his now possibly bruised shoulder.
“It's not a formal recommendation, It's just a backup plan, I guess” He responded sheepishly. Before Alina could make any more remarks a voice yelled out from the back, “Officer on Deck.” The class scrambled to come to attention behind their seats, hands held behind their backs, eyes locked ahead. Down came the Lt. Commander, tablet tucked under one arm. Duval was older, average height, olive skin, and a distinctive scar that ran down one side of his face just in front of his ear, a trophy from a battle long ago. He placed down his tablet at the desk to the side of the large screen at the front. 
Coming center stage “At ease, As you were” said easily with the confidence of a seasoned officer. A few taps of the tablet later and the screen showed an image of a beautiful garden world taken from a high orbit. Its landscape fractured into dozens of small continents of green forests and tan sands separated by dark blue seas. “Who can tell me what planet this is?” Duval paused for a moment looking about “Johnson” Cadet Johnson, of Giant Fame, stood from his seat. 
“That would be Aurora Prime, Sir”
“Correct, So at least read your syllabus” Duval nodded at Johnson and he took his seat again. “This is an image taken of Aurora Primes western Hemisphere, a relatively unpopulated region of the planet,  a few weeks before war returned to the planet.” another tap of the tablet. A new image appeared. This was a similar view of the same planet of fractured greenery and sand. But this one was a landscape dotted with burning forest releasing thick black smoke into the atmosphere. A handful of craters could be seen, seemingly quite large as they could be easily seen from a high orbit image. “This was taken from a similar position 2 local days after the battle, Both Republic and Alliance casualties made planet fall here. This represents some of the worst damage following the battle. The capital city of Opportunity was mostly spared the kind of planet fall destruction that fortunately hit this less populated region. It did not spare as much damage from the guns however. One quarter of Opportunity’s population was killed in less than 12 hours. More ships were lost during the 12 hours of the battle than in the previous standard year of the war. While I will be doing my usual presentations of tactical diagrams showing the usual surprise jumps of Alliance ships and the coordinated response of the Republic Navy.” Duval began to pace back and forth across the stage as he spoke, going into his usual long winded speeches. “I would like to start by showing you, from a first hand point of view, what made this battle uniquely destructive. Multiple new technologies were deployed by both sides in this pivotal moment of the war. Particularly the advanced technologies first deployed here by the republic navy turned the tide of a war the republic was losing. Up to this point, do not be fooled by the propaganda of the war effort, we were losing, badly. Why?” He paused again and looked about the room. “Cadet Matos, please refresh the class on why the republic was losing the war” Cadet Matos, stood and took attention. 
“Sir” she announced with her head held high, clearly working up the confidence to finish. “The Alliance utilized FTL technology allowing them to almost instantaneously drop into theater without Red Line satellites detecting passing FTL signatures.” She stood there waiting for a response from the commander.
“No points for an incomplete answer, cadet.” Commander Duval Barked.
It took her a moment to gather her thoughts “Their seemingly random surprise attacks forced the fleets to spread out across dozens of systems. Spreading tactical power too thin for major counter attacks.” She pauses to look from approval from Duval. “Sir” She completes. Duval nods, and Cadet Matos takes her seat. 
Duval returns to his lecture “And this is why the new technology first deployed at the battle is so important. In the weeks and months prior to the attack on Aurora new Republic ships were sent out as part of the Red Line Protocol deployments.” He returned to the desk and made a handful of more taps on the tablet. “I want to show you a recording from a first person view of what the battle really looked like. This recording was recovered from a French Class Cruiser. The Xhosa. “I've not had a chance to discuss this vessel in class yet. At this point in the war the French class was comparatively young compared to most of the fleet currently deployed. These are formidable ships in combat.” The screen to the front of the class brought up a new image. A tactical view of a Republic Navy vessel, top, side and bottom views with weapons and other tactical information presented. Across the top of the image it read ‘French Class : Heavy Battlecruiser : PRS Xhosa’. Max’s heart sank. His fathers ship. The Commander began to point out the weapons and defenses displayed on the screen. “400 meters long. 4 Main drive engines, powered by redundant fusion plants. Armaments' included dual fixed forward 20kg rails. Sets of two turrets on each quadrant hardpoint. Each turret carries two 5kg rails.” The Commander's voice trailed off in Max's head. He had stopped listening at this point, his eyes fixed on the description in front of him. The crew compliment of the Xhosa, 610. That number set up camp in his mind. His father was one of 610. He realized he’d never wondered how many went down alongside his father. The screen changed again. This time showing a high view of the bridge of the Xhosa. Crew members in crisp uniforms sat at their stations. A pair of officers sat at a pair of stations forward of the deck. Likely the helm positions. Other stations with various officers sat to either side of the deck. A light haired man in the command uniform and the distinctive shoulder bars of a captain stood in front of the deck's command chair at the center of space. The recording began to play. 
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watermonkey0 · 7 years ago
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"Overdose”
4th Point of Contact -- “Overdose” -- Do Kyungsoo x Harper Hasagawa
youtube
Kyungsoo stood at the back of the group, not at all wanting to be there. Between the fatality he’d witnessed this morning, and his lack of sleep last night, dealing with Monsta X was the last thing he wanted to do this morning. As a band, they weren’t that much younger than EXO, only three years, but somehow they still acted like they were trainees. Shownu, Wonhu, Minhyuk, Kihyun, Hyungwon, Jooheon, and IM; even their names were annoying as they filed on stage, snickering and late.
“They couldn’t be bothered to show up on time? Even for this?” Sehun muttered under his breath. It was that time of year again: The Dream Concert. And for some reason, the Kpop world had decided that it would be a great idea to pit EXO against MONSTA X. Honestly, it was cruel. Monsta X was nowhere near as popular or as successful. And if you asked Kyungsoo, he might even admit they were nowhere near as talented. But he kept that to himself as the groups lined up across from each other and bowed stiffly, like they were happy to be there.
“We are very excited to be competing with you this year.” Junmyeon said cordially. Shownu stepped forward from their side with a smirk that Kyungsoo hated. He had a long, pale face that everyone knew the fangirls loved. They also couldn’t get enough of his muscular arms, which Kyungsoo figured he spent way too much time on.
“So are we.” Shownu said it as if there were a hundred other things he wanted to say, but those were the only words he was allowed. “Please take care of us.” He added formally, and the groups bowed to each other again.
The process was simple enough: EXO’s hit ‘Monster’ would be mashed with Monsta X’s song ‘Hero’, and the two groups would practice combining and outperforming each other through vocals and dance. Chanyeol was the only one excited about it, but only because he helped write the two together. He played it for the rest of the members last night, and despite Kyungsoo’s general regard for most things, he had to admit that it was cool. Channie said he still had to tweak the bridge, but other than that, the songs were easy to combine.
Together, the sixteen men lined up behind the choreographer and blocker who was going to stage them. Monsta X was late for their combine blocking time, meaning they had to quickly learn their spots before it was someone else’s turn to familiarize themselves with the stage.
Standing between Wonhu and Yixing, Kyungsoo looked out over the stadium. The arena around them was empty, which made their voices echo that much more. The seats were black, the stage was black, the turf was black, Kyungsoo was wearing black…it was a wash of colorlessness and he liked it.
“About as black as D.O.’s heart, huh?” Chanyeol quipped, and Kyungsoo punched him lightly in the back.
They had just started in on the first chorus choreo when the screaming started. Everyone paused as the sound bounced off the tiers of each level, creating a bowl of horror.
“What the—” Xiumin started, but was interrupted by the sight of Harper sprinting onto the field across from the stae, screaming at the top of her lungs. Kyungsoo was momentarily taken back to this morning when he walked in on her barfing her guts out, but this somehow seemed worse. She was in her typical skinny jeans, converse, white sleeveless shirt that was against some rule somewhere, and flannel tied around her waist. It looked like a cape that sailed behind her as she tore down the middle aisle of chairs. For a moment, it was only her, and all of EXO collectively wondered if maybe she had really lost her mind this time. Her arms pumped, and everyone could see her mouth move as she screamed.
And then the giant appeared.
It burst out from under the overhang like some sort of demon escaping from its cage in hell. It may have been a human at one point, but god only knows when that was. Even from the stage where everything looked tiny, that thing looked colossal. Harper was only five foot whatever, but this thing—
This thing had to be well over seven.
It sprinted down the aisle after her like Harper was the character from Temple Run, and someone should whip out their iPad to keep her alive. With a white shirt, and black slacks, it definitely seemed like it was a person once, but when he reached for her and she danced out of his grip, the beast let out a howl akin to something Channie had spliced into ‘Wolf’s remix.
The collection of people on the stage stood stunned at the sight coming at them, like it was running off the pages of a fairy tale. Was this Jack and the Beanstalk? Were there really giants stalking around Seoul? Jesus, where was an axe when he needed on?
Then, Harper’s screams started to form words: “Get out! Out! Move! Run! Why the hell aren’t you moving?!”
Air was sucking into my lungs with ragged breaths as my feet pounded down the aisle of chairs. Surely I was dreaming! The thing behind me had to be some sort of creature from my drug induced nightmare. I felt it lunge for me again and I threw myself to the left into a row. It barreled past me, but quickly backtracked to find me again.
Well at least I knew I was its target and not one of the boys. I risked a glance at the stage where the gaggle of men stood staring at this like it was a god damned spectacle. Seriously? Did they not notice the danger?
Danger!
Idiots!
I vaulted over the rows, moving forward again, hoping the long legs on the monster would get caught on the short seats. Maybe if I threw something at Junmyeon, he’d come back to life and get them the fuck out of there! The man-beast howled again, and I ducked as it took another swipe for me, way too close for comfort.
“Harper!” Someone screamed my name, and it caught me just enough off guard that I glanced up when I shouldn’t have. My eyes found Kyungsoo’s and I watched his face spread in horror for about a half second before there were hands on my shoulder and leg. The thing snatched me up like I was as light as a feather, and then tossed me just the same.
I smashed into the rigging of the stage nearly upside down, but had no time to recover as the creature closed the distance between us again. Using the stage as leverage, I pushed out of its way at the last second, and as it leaned into the stage from momentum, I grabbed its shoulder and vaulted onto its back, using the monster as a ramp to get to higher ground.
I stumbled onto the black stage, hoping that it would take more than a second for it to catch me. I needed to breathe, to think. What the hell was even happening? There I was, minding my own business, walking the internal perimeter of the arena, when the men’s restroom exploded, and that thing crawled out. I wasn’t even asking for a fight! The drugs I’d taken earlier were only just starting to work, and my migraine had barely lessened to a dull roar. I was not expecting it to be replaced with the real thing!
“Harper!” I heard Baekhyun shout my name, and figured my second was up. The creature hoisted itself onto the stage and started stalking towards me again. At least it wasn’t sprinting, although it might have known that I didn’t have anywhere to go. I couldn’t very well run past the boys and leave them exposed should the thing change its mind. Instead, I rolled forward and around, placing myself between the idols and the monster.
“Get back!” I yelled over my shoulder and reached for a baton at my belt. Usually, the brush of metal in my hands would make me feel infinitely more confident, but when I looked down at my little stick and back up to the hulking thing coming for me, no sureness came.
“Mo Myong?!” Hyungwon of Monsta X was off to my left, huddled with the rest of the frozen celebrities. But he shouted and the beast paused.
“You know this thing?” I cried and jumped out of the way when the creature was done being distracted. Although, I guess it really was a man?
“Mo Myong!” Hyungwon shouted, and when the monster stopped to look again, I lunged to the side, bashing the baton into his knee joint. Mo howled in pain, throwing his head back and curling his fingers like a werewolf. Hoping the break would last long enough, I grabbed his wrist, trying to gain control of his body and maybe take him down in a hold. There would be no way I could keep him down, but maybe if I could incapacitate him for long enough, the others would finally find the sense to run.
But, of course, instead of me gaining any upper hand, Mo Myong twisted his arm so that the grip I had on him became a grip he had on me. I leaned in, trying to close the distance, knowing that the further I was from him, the more likely he could destroy me. As I tucked in under his arm, somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that he smelled terrible. His heavy breathing smelled like rotten onions, and his whole body reeked of dog food, or something greasy you’d get from a fast food joint in the middle of the night. But Mo shoved me off, slamming his other fist into my hip and sending me flying. I tumbled for a few feet, before I managed to catch hold of something on the stage and reel myself into another fighting stance. I lost the baton and all that fake confidence it hadn’t given me.
This was not going well. Think, Harper, think. EXO to my right, Monsta X to my left, backstage behind me, and the audience in front of me. I’d lost my only weapon, and I was pretty sure I was injured, I just couldn’t feel it yet because of the adrenaline. Mo Myong paused for a moment, and then surprisingly swayed on his feet.
Monsta X knew who this guy was, enough to call out to him in this state. But the only people allowed in the stadium were agency staff. That meant that this guy was a part of Starship Entertainment. So why was he like this?! I took a good hard look at him finally, knowing I hadn’t actually seen his face through the sudden battle or panic. His white shirt was tailored into his hips and almost see-through with sweat. His neck was bulging under his collar, and his face was yellow, like a crayon. His eyes were bloodshot and jumping around, like he couldn’t focus on me or anything else. It was why he was flailing, I realized, and also why he’d only managed to hurt me when he got in close.
Mo Myong was overdosing. Sudden violence, paranoia, hallucinations, they were all symptoms of steroid abuse. Couple those with excessive sweating, jaundice, and bad breath, and I knew exactly why he’d detonated from the bathroom. He’d gone to shoot up before his shift, but injected too much too quickly. Much to my chagrin, I was suddenly thankful for all those health seminars the corps had forced me to sit through. But I would have to thank my DS later.
“Junmyeon.” I yelled over my shoulder. Suho’s eyes snapped to mine, but before I could say anything else, Mo charged me again. “My bag!” I shrieked as I dodged his arm, making sure to stay out of his reach this time.
Junmyeon only took a moment to understand my meaning, and then he was running off stage towards the dressing rooms. The rest of EXO trailed behind him confused, not sure if they were supposed to follow, but also not wanting to leave me to die alone. It ignited the fire in Monsta X though, and all the members but Hyungwon fled the platform. The pointy faced boy stood his ground as I danced out of Mo’s reach again and again, waiting for my backup plan.
Only a second later, Suho came galloping back on stage holding my green backpack in his hands. At the same time, Hyungwon grabbed hold of my arm, halting my step and trying to put himself in front of me.
“What the—” I managed before Hyungwon’s ill-conceived attempt to be the hero ended with Mo Myong sending us both flying. I crashed into Junmyeon, who in his defense, tried to catch me, but we ended in a pile of limbs on the floor. Hyungwon landed somewhere off to the side behind a speaker, and Mo Myong let out another howl, although this one sounded more human than the last.
“But, Hasa—” Junmyeon stuttered as I grabbed my bag and turned it up, emptying the contents. A solid black 5x7 case clattered to the ground and I snatched it. I slid my thumb over the seam, allowing the small screen to register my fingerprint. Mo Myong stomped forward a step but faltered, grabbing his head with both hands.
“Yeah, I bet your head hurts.” Now really wasn’t the time to be snarky, but I’d never managed my attitude very well anyway. The case clicked open and exposed a beautiful little .357 Kimber revolver. Mo Myong screamed again and then started sprinting towards us.
“Hasa, Hasa, Hasa!” Suho scrambled backwards, out of the way of the charging bull. Franticly, I grabbed the spiral, unhinged the wheel, jammed the bullets in their slots, and flicked the cylinder back into place. And, without missing a beat, I stood to face the hurricane of testosterone sprinting towards us. “Hasa!” Junmyeon screamed again and I saw him squeeze his eyes shut. He hadn’t gotten completely out of the way, probably feeling somewhat responsible. But I looked at him, and then to all the other boys who were gaping at us from further away. I took in each gaze until I landed on D.O.’s. I wondered if he would tell them the truth about me after I died, or if he would keep it to himself. A part of me wanted him to tell them, let them see how small I actually was, but the other part wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, exactly how they saw me now.
I probably looked like something straight out of the Avengers: armed, sexy, and the underdog. They could make such a good movie out of my life.
Mo Myong reared his fist back as he ran, and I cocked my hammer.
He screamed. I shot.
Kyungsoo tried his hardest not to look at her, but his eyes kept finding their way back to where she was forced to sit and allow the paramedic to examine her. Harper was rolling her eyes so hard, Kyungsoo was worried they’d roll right out of her head. He heard ‘broken ribs’ and ‘sprained wrist’ muttered by the woman who poked and prodded her, but he couldn’t really see those injuries on the girl whose legs were bouncing up and down.
“Tell your guard, it’s a job well done.” Detective Dong Daegu said to Chief Soo. He held up Harper’s gun by a pencil through the trigger guard, gesturing to it.  Guns were just so out of their realm that when Harper had dropped it, everybody just stared at it. It wasn’t until Detective Dong picked it up that anyone remembered it had been abandoned.
“But how is he…” Jongin asked. He wanted to know how the man, Mo Myong, wasn’t dead. For someone Kyungsoo thought was huge in the beginning, Mo Myong looked remarkably small strapped to the EMT gurney. Bright orange straps were secured over his arms, waist, and legs, to keep him on or to keep him down, D.O. didn’t want to know. All he cared to see was the steady rise and fall of his chest that was proof he wasn’t dead. For as long as he lived, Kyungsoo was never going to be able to forget the image of Harper pulling the trigger of her gun over and over again. Or seeing Mo Myong’s body jerk with each shot. He was terrified of her in that moment, more so than he was of the lunatic storming their dance session. How easily she shot him, like she’d done it a million times. Because she had.
She was a soldier, how could he keep forgetting? But still, it seemed too easy, too second nature. How did she manage to justify it? How was she okay with taking someone else’s life with the squeeze of a finger?
“Your American had the foresight to use rubber bullets.” Detective Dong answered Jongin’s unasked question. He toed the evidence box on the ground at his feet, indicating the bag filled with little black balls. Chief Soo was rigid as the Detective explained Harper hadn’t been issued a weapon’s permit, and if she had used real bullets and killed this guy, everyone would be in serious trouble. “And then there’s this thing,” He gestured to the automated syringe next to the bullets, “what was it, anyway?” He directed his question to Harper who, when Kyungsoo turned back to her, found that she was looking at him.
“Ketamine.” She said in English. How she knew what they were talking about, D.O. didn’t know. But regardless, Detective Dong made a face as if to say ‘not-bad’, before packing up the rest of his evidence. Chief Soo thanked them excessively as they wheeled Mo Myong out of the arena, representatives from Starship hot on their heels. He’d only arrived shortly after the whole incident had ended, making him walk in on a literal disaster.
“What happened?!” He screamed when he saw Harper straddling a man on the stage, needle shoved into his neck. Needless to say it fell to the still flustered Suho to explain Harper’s back up plan. Apparently it was something she’d worked out with him in the beginning.
“It’s because you’re the leader.” Harper said matter-of-factly. She’d cornered him in an empty dressing room weeks ago. “You have to know about this. I can’t be single handedly in charge of your security. You have to be able to protect yourselves too.” So she’d showed him the case she always carried with her, and how to open it. According to Junmyeon, he and Harper’s prints were the only ones the box would open for. He admitted that his hands shook when she showed him how to load the bullets and secure the cylinder. She didn’t let him shoot it, of course, and he hadn’t asked too. But she also neglected to mention that they weren’t real bullets.
Then she showed him the spring loaded syringe, telling him it was a tranquilizer. “If I ever can’t protect you, if I’m ever taken out of the picture, you use this to pause,” she held up the gun, “and you use this to stop.” She held up the needle. She made him repeat the phrase like a mantra, over and over, until the sight of the gun didn’t make his skin crawl, and he promised he could protect his members without hesitation should he need to.
Hearing that she had something like this waiting in the wings stirred up confusion in Kyungsoo’s stomach. Was he supposed to feel more secure that she had all these ‘backup plans’? If so, why then did he feel a little let down that she had none with him? He quickly shoved the thought away, wondering where the hell it’d come from. So what? Just because he knew Harper before didn’t mean that she was required to run anything past him now. He was technically the reason she had this job, but if she hadn’t been qualified for it, Chief Soo would have thrown her out weeks ago. She knew how to protect them, plain and simple…backup plans just so happened to be one way.
“Ugh, can you not?” Harper griped in English at the EMT who was lifting the hem of her shirt.
“You have three broken ribs. I have to see.” The woman tried to tell her, but Harper didn’t understand. She squirmed again and the EMT let out an exasperated sigh. Kyungsoo could relate. Harper made him feel that way most days. So he felt compelled to go over and plant his hands on her shoulders, causing her to freeze.
“What are you doing?” She asked as she gazed up at him. Around one of her big green eyes, a bruise was forming, and she’d busted her lip somewhere in the epic battle earlier. Funny, just a few moments ago it had been terrifying to him, but now it was epic. Curious…
“Let her see.” He ordered, and then nodded to the EMT who seemed happy for the help. In one long swipe, she cut up the side of Harper’s shirt. He definitely had not been expecting that, and Kyungsoo’s face quickly flushed as he saw the flat lines of Harper’s stomach and the folds of her sports bra. But Harper was never one to be shy, she seemed like she hardly cared that he saw. She was more concerned with the fact that her shirt was now ruined.
His hands on her shoulders were suddenly on fire, and he snatched them away. Harper threw him an annoyed look, probably blaming him for the shirt and not noticing how he hid his arms behind him. The EMT quickly went about assessing the damage, drawing Kyungsoo’s attention to the swollen red rash on Harper’s upper side.
“Looks like R 5-7.” The paramedic muttered to herself and went fishing in her bag for something.
“How bad is it?” Harper’s voice was small, and Kyungsoo glanced up at her face curiously. She wouldn’t meet his eye, but her expression was one of embarrassment, although he could have imagined it.
“You have three broken ribs.” He answered.
“Meh…I’ve had worse.” She shrugged but immediately regretted it as she winced and held her side. Any shame she felt was gone when the EMT popped back up out of her bag with a beige wrap.
“Tell her the bra has to come off too.” The woman instructed Kyungsoo. He was about to comply, since it seemed like such a normal medical request, but after a moment of translating, he realized what she was asking him to say and blanched.
“We’re in the middle of an arena!” He hissed, trying his best to sound calm so Harper wouldn’t know that he was panicking over her bra, but she raised an eyebrow at him anyway. He hated how even when she couldn’t speak Korean, she still somehow knew what was being said.
“I’d move her, but she’s being belligerent. The quicker I treat her, the better.” The woman shot back, obviously annoyed that she’d picked the short stick in terms of patients. The overdosing maniac would have been easier, honestly, and belligerent was the absolute right word to describe his bodyguard. Kyungsoo had a feeling he was about to see just how belligerent she could be, too. Resolutely, he pulled off his black hoodie and held it out to Harper, as if it were a precursor. She eyed it for a moment before the realization spread over her face.
“Oh hell no—” She tried to jump from the chair, but Kyungsoo clamped his hands down on her shoulders again, and the paramedic didn’t waste the opportunity. With a snip here and a snip there, Harper was cursing under her breath and D.O. tried his best to shield her from anyone else. Although he had no idea how effective he was since his own eyes were screwed shut tight. Her shoulders were tense under his fingers, and he felt her rock back and forth as the paramedic wrapped the binding around her again and again until it was secure.
“There, all done.” The woman sighed, relieved that she wouldn’t have to deal with the stubborn American anymore. Not a moment later, Harper swatted his hands away and he opened his eyes to see her pulling his hoodie over her head. He stared at it for a moment, wondering why it looked so different on her. It wasn’t even his favorite, so why did he suddenly like it so much more?
“I can’t believe you let her cut my shirt off.” Harper hissed as she jumped from the chair, like she couldn’t sit still for a second longer.
Aaaaaaaand the spell was broken.
“I can’t believe you shot someone.” He snapped in return, instantly wanting his hoodie back.
“I’ve shot plenty of people. You’re welcome by the way—Ow.” She sneered at him but flinched and grabbed her side.
“Well you—” Kyungsoo was about to start in on a lengthy lecture, one he was sure would come to him on the spot when,
“Um…Excuse me.” Hyungwon stepped forward, staring hard at the baton he held in both hands. Harper and D.O. both stopped their bickering long enough to glance at each other, before falling in line.
“Yes?” Harper asked in Korean.
“This is yours?” Hyungwon said it more as a question than a statement, like he forgot she’d whipped it out of nowhere and beat someone with it.
“Oh, yes.” Harper took it from him politely, collapsing it in one fluid motion and attaching it back to the magnet on her belt. As far as social interactions went, that technically should have been the end of it, but Hyungwon didn’t move. He stayed rooted like a tree in front of them, staring at the ground now that his hands were empty and shuffling from foot to foot. Kyungsoo recognized it as a technique taught to trainees who were nervous about performing on stage. It was meant to get the blood flowing, the performance going, and also to keep them from passing out by bending their knees.
“What is it?” Harper asked quietly, stretching out a hand to the boy. She’d switched. This Harper had only come out a few times, never when she knew Kyungsoo was around. This Harper was calm and kind, her movements were small and non-threatening. It was the kind of demeanor used when speaking to a child or a frightened pet. But before she could start cooing to him too, Hyungwon recoiled from her reach. It was a huge reaction, and Harper’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. And then, in the same motion, Hyungwon dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes welling up with tears.
“What is he doing?” Harper freaked, looking to Kyungsoo, “Tell him to get up.” D.O. looked down at the man in the most submissive posture imaginable and was surprised to feel pity. He understood what Hyungwon was going to say before it flew from his mouth:
“Please forgive him!”
D.O. took in Harper’s shocked form, and allowed himself to realize something; that if she had done anything like this, gone on a wild rampage or overdosed, he would be the one on his knees too. Everyone else be damned.
“He’s been under and incredible amount of stress recently. His brother is in the hospital and they haven’t been able to keep up with the expenses. He’s been working extra shifts, back to back. I don’t know the last time he slept. Please, please, I beg you…don’t press charges. I’ll take full responsibility. He’s my best friend from elementary. I was supposed to take care of him. Please…please…”
Kyungsoo softly translated the words, but it wasn’t necessary. Harper understood without any context.
“Tell him that I won’t.” She said and sank to her haunches to be on the same level as the groveling man.
“That’s not really your call.” Kyungsoo reminded her and lowered as well.
“Tell him I won’t.” She shot D.O. and incredulous look, and he caved. He’d learned that there were some things you didn’t fight her on, and this seemed to be one of them.
“Geunyeoneunhaji anh-eul geos-ida.” Kyungsoo translated and Hyungwon’s head shot up. Relief streamed down his cheeks as he grabbed Harper’s hands and thanked her. She seemed uncomfortable with his affection, but didn’t pull away.
That discomfort seemed to stay with her even as they left the arena and made it back to SM. She wrung her hands in her lap and crossed and uncrossed her legs. Kyungsoo wanted to ask, but at the same time, had a feeling that he already knew, he just wasn’t sure how to tell her that: yes, he would go to bat for her. He’d done it once already. And it wasn’t because of their history or what happened before, it was because, despite their history and what happened before, she never failed to be there for him.
Not counting today when she’d kept him from being squashed like a bug, she was constantly in his shadow, commenting on this, jabbing him with that. It was a presence that he found comforting after a while, despite his attempt to ignore it all together. He found himself drawn to her for the same reason the others were: she looked at EXO and saw a bunch of gangly boys. To her, they weren’t idols and they weren’t fragile.
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ladytrollfishes · 6 years ago
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>Cress and Shupaa: Lunch date
You've arranged your next meeting place under less duplicitous circumstances- a moonlit restaurant with lots of windows, tiers of seating and even a live, in house band of flautists that are currently tooting away on the small raised stage. The Flauted Bistro is some place you go quite often- the music's not bad, if cheesy, and the staff is very friendly. 
It's where you go to meet friends, not really the sort for a business lunch. With that in mind, you pick a balcony seat near the stairs of the second floor, one that overlooks the door to the first floor and is quite near the kitchen. It's really your favorite spot- your food is fresher and you can hear everything going on around you. You order a round of mimosas, pick up a menu and keep an eye towards the door.
Kitty | neriticNomad02/23/2019
You arrive on time, with alarming precision. Approaching the restaurant, you spy Cress, over the door. You stop to wave, briefly. When midnight strikes, the bells of a nearby clock tower sound in time with the door chimes, as you step inside. From there, you make your way up to the second floor. This place is... nice. 
You have only been to places like this while tracking someone. It feels odd, not to watch every exit and every person present. You don't look very different from the last time you met. You have even opted for a hood once more, because you do not like the idea of people staring at you. Your manner is still cold and curt, but there is one small difference: you are here voluntarily. You want to be here. 
"Were you waiting?" You do not know how else to greet her. These more casual, friendly meetings are not exactly common for you - even if you know it's just a facade.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/23/2019
You notice the moment Maera arrives. She looks so out of place, the darling. She's still wearing the same hoodie you first met her in? Does she think you won't recognize her if she's not wearing the same clothes? Is that just, perhaps, her default outfit she wears everywhere? It's so funny, you can't help but grin widely as she comes up the stairs. Sure she has some oddities underneath the hood, but her choice of clothing is netting her some strange looks too. "Hiiii!!!" you exclaim as she's halfway up the stairs, jumping up to meet her, your hands outstretched to clasp hers as you bounce on the balls of your feet "Oh my gosh Mae!!!! How have you been??"
Kitty | neriticNomad02/23/2019
You do not mind looks because of your clothing, usually. Looks at your cybernetics tend to cause issues. "Mae-ra," you say, first. You have to get that out of the way. Nicknames are not acceptable. Your emphasis breaks up your words into clearly-enunciated syllables. "Status is functional. How... have you been?" There is a strange pause as you ensure this is the appropriate response. You really, really hate this. She's so bubbly, and so loud.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/23/2019
Maera barely moves when you touch her, she sounds about as comfortable as a large boulder in a glass jar. Still, she tries, and when she asks you how you've been you laugh and say, "Good! You know it's been pretty calm lately, so I'm much more interested in what you've been up to." You start walking her to the table. "It's like my favorite spot in this whole restaurant, you can see everything from here, and watch the food go out to everyone else. My favorite is the baked alaska here, but that's a dessert!" You laugh at your own stupid joke. "Don't worry about the bill, this lunch is on me."
Kitty | neriticNomad02/23/2019
The vantage point is nice, strategically. It would be difficult to sneak up on this table, from any angle. "Understood," you respond, to indicate you've heard. You don't laugh at her joke, mostly because you don't laugh at anything. It's tragic, because it would normally be a cute joke. You look at the menu. Lunch offerings at restaurants are an enigma. Everyone defines "lunch" differently.
 After trying in vain to understand half of the things on the menu, you decide to look at the sandwiches... which are just as enigmatic, because they're all Troll French, and the Troll French eat their sandwiches with utensils, like animals. How much do you tell her? Do you tell her anything at all? 
 "Work has occupied much of the available time," you say, because that part is true. "It is logical that you would wish to know the results of the report to Aubade, however." You mean Lyrian, of course. You're talking directly to the other Aubade, so you save your breath, and don't distinguish. To you, this is an obvious distinction.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/23/2019
If you were anyone else, you wouldn't be able to appreciate that ping of appreciation Maera gives off at your joke, because her face and tone is as flat as ever. You smile instead when she simply acknowledges that you've said it at all. And her confusion when she looks at the menu- was it because of the conversation or the food? You'd be willing to bet on both. When she mentions "Aubade" though, in reference to Lyrian, your smile thins just a hair. It's your name. "Of course I'm curious about that, but I'm also curious about what's going on with you."
Kitty | neriticNomad02/23/2019
If you emoted, you would raise an eyebrow. Instead, you just... sort of stare? It's all you can think to do. "Confidentiality requires that details of assignments are not disclosed, outside of the appropriate recipients of information." There's a tick of nervousness. It isn't enough to show up in your implants, but perhaps if there was another way to sense it... This is a half-lie, but a lie nonetheless. You've been busy, even outside those confidential assignments. You just don't want to talk about it. "You will find that there is not much to be said on this topic. Indulging in hob-bies is somewhat time-consuming." What are you supposed to do? Tell her about your bottlecap collection? ... That is hardly a bad idea, when you consider it.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/23/2019
There's a sour twinge of nervousness when she talks about the confidentiality of her assignments but you can't quite figure out why- you'll replay the conversation and think it over when you can. For now you can leave it alone. This meeting is all about generating some rapport, and the less you push her on stuff she's uncomfortable with, the more likely she is to be forthcoming in the future. "Of course I'm not asking for your missions," you say. "Confidentiality is what protects us both after all. But you really have no hobbies at all? No time for yourself?" You prop your chin on your hand and lean forward on the table.
Kitty | neriticNomad02/23/2019
You hate that she looks cute like that. You are confident that is the purpose of the movement, and you hate that you fall for it. Feeling somewhat out of place, you decide to play along... by mimicking her movement, to the best of your ability. "Small objects are collected," you say, with difficulty, because leaning your chin on your hand means you can't move to speak the right way. It makes your voice sound slightly strange. "Bottle fasteners, primarily. Does this satisfy your cur-i-o-si-ty?"
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/23/2019
She sounds downright disgruntled as you move, but it doesn't stop her from trying to copy you, awkwardly putting her elbow on the table. She rests her head down straight on her hand, so that you can see her head bob as she tries to talk without jostling her jaw so much. She's trying so hard! The delight bubbles out as laughter. "Yes!" you exclaim, letting your hands fall to the table again. "It does, mostly. Bottle caps? What do you like so much about them?"
Kitty | neriticNomad02/23/2019
You mirror this, too, mostly because it's the more comfortable position. "They vary greatly?" It's a statement, but it sounds like a question. You are not sure if this makes sense. "Alternian bottlecaps are much the same across the planet. However, the consumer needs and available materials on other planets require different types of glass and bottles, and different types of fasteners. For instance, several fleet bases produce bottles with resealable caps. They possess levers on the side, which lock them in place." You talk about bottlecaps as if they were some sort of academic study. You aren't embarrassed about the one hobby you have. "They are also found in a variety of colors, and create a pleasant arrangement when collected in one place."
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/23/2019
You nod along as she talks about her bottle caps like they're the most interesting things in the world. She knows what she's talking about! You'd never have looked at a bottle cap like that in your life, and frankly you still wouldn't, but you can appreciate that Maera genuinely enjoys her hobby. An interesting look into how other people live their lives. "Do you do art with them?" you ask. That's a field you know something about, even if it's a different part of it. "I've never looked twice at a bottle cap, I have to say, but you make them sound interesting!"
February 24, 2019
Kitty | neriticNomad02/24/2019
You think about this. "The potential for art is there. However, art is not typically done. They are kept separate in a container." It occurs to you that you now no longer have your collection on hand. It will not be easy to gather that many bottlecaps again. You don't have much of a choice. "A new collection will be started shortly," you say, without explaining too many details. "This is the only ex-cit-ing news on the topic. Do you have any hobbies?" If you can shift the conversation back to her, you will feel less like you are being scrutinized under a microscope. You do, however, make a note to ask for a soda when your waiter arrives.(edited)
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/24/2019
She starts getting uncomfortable again, and you blink curiously as she mentions that she'll be starting a new collection, then immediately changes the subject to you. Curious. You're here to make her comfortable with you, not to pry until she refuses to tell you anything. That can come later, but you want to assure her that you do take an interest in what she thinks and wants. It doesn't seem like that's something that she has a lot of. "What happened to you old one?" you immediately ask, then let a moment of embarrassment cross your face as you lean back and wave your question away. "I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to! I write music myself. I like stargazing too!"
February 25, 2019
Kitty | neriticNomad02/25/2019
That small exchange sets you more at ease. If she isn't going to make you say it... maybe you can. "It was lost," you lie. All your lies sound somewhat truthful when you never speak with any emotion at all. "It is inconvenient. However, the task of reforming the collection is not impossible. It will simply take time." You don't know much about the process of making music. You're aware of music itself - like most trolls, you listen to it, sometimes - but the effort that goes into it is unfamiliar to you. "What genre of music do you write?" you ask, deciding to start with something relatively safe.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/25/2019
Your play at giving her space actually nets you an answer, something that surprises you. You figured it’d take some time, not that you can sort out what her answer means. She sounds a note of relief but you can’t tell if it’s because of the space you gave her or if the answer was the truth or not. It’s vague enough in the end. “Ohh, that’s such a shame,” you say mournfully, your brows drawn close. “I’m sure you’ll have an even better collection soon enough.” You take a moment to glance at the menu again before smiling again at Maera. “Oh, yeah, I write a lot of pop songs, sometimes ballads and things like that but mostly pop! They’re just so much fun! it’s a genre about making people happy.”
Kitty | neriticNomad02/25/2019
She's sympathetic, which you appreciate, on some level, even though you feel it's needless. It's such a small thing, it matters so little... but she still wishes you well. You think the word for what you feel may be "touched." "Is your goal to inspire happiness?" You can't help feeling skeptical of this. Perhaps you're being too negative. Why would she lie about this? You try to shove it from mind, but it lingers, under genuine interest in what she has to say.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/25/2019
You can't help but laugh behind your hand at the note of skepticism in Maera's melody. Of course she's suspicious of the claim, with how your first meeting went. "I mean yeah!" you exclaim and prop your knuckles against your cheek. "Things are so much nicer when everyone's happy. If you ask me, music is about making people feel something. So of all things I could make people feel, why wouldn't I want to make people happy with my music?"
Kitty | neriticNomad02/25/2019
Doubt (X) But you think the idealism behind her words is catchy, whether or not she means it. There's a certain amount of respect you feel for her goals - or, if they do happen to be false goals, the fact that she bothered to say it. The waiter arrives in short order, with beverages. You politely refuse the one offered you, and ask instead for a soda. They take meal orders while there. (You request a croque-monsieur, because you actually recognize the ingredients.) And once they've left, you ask Cress, "Where do you perform?" Maybe, you think, you'll try to see her sometime. What's the worst that could happen?
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/25/2019
She's so doubtful, she doesn't even answer! You chuckle again and give her a shrug. "It doesn't quite fit with what you know of me, sure," you acknowledge. "But people are complicated, y'know." The waiter comes and you give your orders. Maera gets a sandwich, which seems like it's typical for her, while you get creamy seafood pasta. "I do open mic nights most often at the The Dreamy Bean cafe in Arkady!" you exclaim. "Sometimes at the Ghoulisar Grindhouse when I'm around and not too busy with work. Do you want to come? It'll be a little hard for you to get into Arkady, I do have to say."
February 26, 2019
Kitty | neriticNomad02/26/2019
"And people can hold surprises," you say, even though you don't know that you believe it. You are used to surprises like "this person has a knife you did not anticipate," not "the Torrent likes making people happy." Maybe that is a knife, in a manner of speaking. A proverbial knife. ... No, that does not make sense either. Proverbial knives are not useful. "Yes. There is interest in listening to your work. However, there is no current data on Arkady. Are there restrictions on the city?" You are... curious, mostly. You don't understand a motivation to lie about this, so you may as well hear her out.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/26/2019
“Arkady is a closed city!” you exclaim. “You need a background check and a permit to go inside. It can be awfully inconvenient but those are the rules!” You sigh. It’s perfectly reasonable with Torrent hq in Arkady. It’s much easier to protect the information there if there’s an account of everyone who comes in and out of the city. You could of course, sponsor Maera for a permit and expedite the process but you don’t trust her that much, to let her in so easily.
Kitty | neriticNomad02/26/2019
"Unfortunate." Fine, keep your secrets.jpg. You are curious, and you make a note to investigate Arkady later. For now, though, since you are attempting to make conversation anyway - "There must be a significant reason to close a whole city. Is there something worth protecting?" You're familiar with protected cities, cities with fortifications and extra security. Closed ones are few and far-between. When you do encounter them, they are a pain in the ass, and typically not worth the trouble of working through your contacts for forged papers.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/26/2019
“Of course!” You exclaim. “The empire puts most of the things they don’t want tampered with. The mint is there, for example. Torrent HQ too, which is why I’m there.” It’s easy enough to look that up on the internet. There’s other, more secret things too, but those you’ll stay mum on.
Kitty | neriticNomad02/26/2019
You wonder what a city of Torrents must be like. Then, you wonder if Ghoulisar is her playground, for the sole reason that it isn't full of Torrents.  Are they all like her? "Then the logical choice would be to try to find your performance in Ghoulisar, provided you do not mind the audience. Some trolls do not wish to mix their social and work spheres." You're one of them, normally. You aren't sure how long that will last.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/26/2019
“I don’t mind, unless you start telling everyone I’m Torrent,” you say, raising an eyebrow and watching her carefully. “In that way, things definitely should stay separate. Once people know what your job is, everyone starts wondering what your motives are. Otherwise, I have a sound cloud where you could listen there!” You pull out another glittery gel pen and write your url out on a napkin before sliding it over to her. All ulterior motives aside, you do like reaching an audience(edited)
Kitty | neriticNomad02/26/2019
"Of course." You don't smile, because you never smile, but your intention is to agree, genuinely. You feel empathetic: This is the same reason you try to keep your work and work contacts as far from your meager social sphere as possible. And then, a possible amusing question comes to mind: "Have you had trouble with this in the past? You speak as if you have experience with trolls unfortunately discovering your occupation."
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/26/2019
Maera looks and sounds as flat as a person can be but there’s a gong, a pang of agreement, and you smile at her. She asks after your experiences and you have to groan. “Ugh,” you say as you roll your eyes letting your shoulders drop dramatically. “Most people in Arkady are pretty used to the idea that Torrents are normal people too, but some of them get so nervous. Some of the new artists at the Dreamy Bean just straight up refused to stay for the open mic when I came by in uniform. When I’m out of Arkady I just tell people I’m an accountant.”
Kitty | neriticNomad02/26/2019
"An accountant?" No, you don't smile - but the corners of your mouth move up, just slightly, almost as if you did. Accountant! Of all the jobs she could pick for a cover! But it makes sense when you consider it. A bubbly accountant who uses singing as an outlet, after a night of boring work... it lines up perfectly. "This will be kept in mind. Your choice of false occupation is very cre-a-tive, but your motive is logical. It is a loss for those performers, that they did not stay to meet you."
February 27, 2019
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)02/27/2019
You give her a wink when she repeats your fake profession incredulously. She practically sings with amusement- so much so that it even her mouth twitches! You're as smug as a cat with a kill with this one. "Aww," you say, flapping your hand, nearly bashful. "You're too sweet!" The waiter comes, bringing your food, neatly sliced and diced, twirled, and drizzled for perfect presentation. Shrimp, scallops, and little pieces of fish sit nested in purple pasta, with a cream sauce drizzled over it. It's garnished with some drops of some black vinegar and some sprigs of herbs. "Oh this just looks amazing! Almost too good to eat!" You pick up your fork to dig in. You bet Maera doesn't go to many restaurants that prize presentation like this one does.
March 3, 2019
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 10:56 AM
You don't! You usually don't order much at all, when you do go to restaurants of this caliber, because you need to be ready to move at a moment's notice. On a certain level, you feel very resistant towards eating right now, as a result. It's habit. The artistry is admirable, you will grant them. Your sandwich looks like it was pulled from a magazine, seeming too perfect, as if it was fake. Your sensors confirm it has three-dimensional presence, though - so if it is a fake, it's a very good one. You press your fork into the bread, just to ensure. It hits exactly as you mean to. Precision has always been your most valuable skill. "You and the senior Aubade are at odds," you say, as you pick up your knife. You keep your awareness on her, even if your eyes aren't. The edge of the silver breaks through the bread with a crunch. "Is this competition in the field of performance?" You're intimately familiar with competitive performers. If this was the case, it wouldn't surprise you.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 11:42 AM
It's like watching a dog sniff a bowl of unfamiliar food. It's just a sandwich. You swallow a chuckle and eat some of the pasta when she asks you what's between you and Lyrian, and suddenly you're glad you've got to chew through your mouthful of food as you figure out what to say. It seems rather nonsensical to say you locked eyes for a minute, exchanged a bare dozen words, and instantly set off on a blood feud. Besides, you've done your research. Lyrian's a classical performer, and not competition for you. But if Maera's going to be spying for you, then she should know something about what she's looking for. "No," you say finally. "It's a little complicated, really. I'm not actually sure what her problem is, I just know she has one." You notice yourself rubbing your neck where she grabbed you and put your hand down as you smile at Maera. "She's not very pleasant. Have you met her in person?"
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 11:58 AM
And you - because you watch people, because your job is anticipating people and knowing about them - store this image, somewhere in your reserve memory. It's interesting. Lyrian seemed to know exactly what she wanted from Cress, and Cress... "When the assignment was formally issued, there was a meeting." You've cut the corner of your sandwich perfectly square. It looks as if a very precise robot took a bite out of it. You make more squares. 
"Communication in-person is preferable, for its security and clarity. Although the rules were bent, somewhat, after the last meeting with you -" because you called her, you didn't meet with her, and she wasn't pleased by that "- she has requested another meeting." It's not your job to have opinions. You don't have storage for those. Instead, you let her words speak for themselves. You access your memory files on this assignment, one of two marked "FAILURE", and replay a voice clip of Lyrian speaking, mimicked through your mouth. "Above all, be patient. Do not get caught."
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 12:08 PM
Maera takes note of something- you can practically hear something click in her head, and you sort of hate it. Lyrian's a sore spot for you! Maera's the only one who knows about it so far and you'd rather she not know too much about how you're handling it. She speaks in a monotone as she goes over her previous meetings with Lyrian when she opens her mouth and her voice comes out instead. It's not what you're expecting at all, and you tense immediately, your hackles up. Your fork bends slightly in your hand as a smile leaps to your face. "Well, you didn't quite succeed in that, now did you!" you exclaim sweetly. "We'll just have to make sure it doesn't happen again when you go meet with her once more."
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 12:19 PM
You eye her, and under your still face, you're... frustrated, mostly, with a side of curiosity. That's a violent reaction. You're interested in why - and, to a lesser degree, how it plays into whatever Lyrian wants. "Your defensive response is unnecessary," you say, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. It is, to you. Emotions are too complicated for this. "You are not under attack. The assigned role is in-for-mant. Confirm? You lack information on this topic. This is information on the topic."
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 12:27 PM
Maera doesn't even twitch, which you regard with a vague annoyance that she's calling you out on this at all. You have to admit she's correct, in the most straightforwardly literal way possible, so you nod and take a couple deep breaths through your nose, your mouth still pressed into a tight smile. "Of course," you say, as you straighten out the fork, and force yourself to loosen out your posture. "Quite sorry about that! So what else did she say? What did she ask you to do in regards to me?"
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 12:31 PM
The poor fork doesn't deserve this, you think. Once she indicates wanting to hear more, you repeat Lyrian's instructions in full - again, in her voice, in that creepy horrific way you do. "I want you to watch her. Learn what she likes and dislikes, what her schedule is. I want to know everything about her. Above all, be patient. Do not get caught." She's so tense. You wonder if she might break the table by bringing down her hand too hard. "Did she make any indication at all of her intention or goal?"(edited)
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 12:42 PM
You're expecting the creepy voice this time, but you still have to put your fork down before she finishes her first sentence. You put your clenched hands in your lap, smiling tightly as your nails dig into your palms. Murder, is your first thought. She did attempt strangling you, after all. But the notes of sadness and regret that you had replayed through the sleepless days when you wouldn't stop thinking about her, the fact she ordered Maera not to kill you, you're missing a piece, definitely. "Oh," you say a tad too carelessly. "I believe it's something to do with checking to make sure I'm not disgracing our line."
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 12:52 PM
"Were that the case, it would be simpler to have you killed." Knowing motivation is also irrelevant to your job. You've done work for rebels. You've done work for loyalists. You don't ask questions. The less you know, the better. ... But Cress can't solve this on her own. If she could, she would have. Your new job includes helping her. You take a bite of your sandwich. When you lower your fork, you warn, "Do not say your true suspicions now. Psychic immunity is not present. Information you do not wish for her to have should not be spoken at this time, in preparation for the planned meeting. However..." You look up at her. The green in your eyes is sharp and cold. "If you intend to receive assistance, it cannot be given without more information. When you are prepared to present your suspicions, do so. Any information you know or suspect can assist the investigation."(edited)
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 1:09 PM
Of course it would be simpler to have you killed. But that's not what she's done despite her actions, and that's something you haven't quite figured out. You huff, settling your ruffled feathers. The fact she doesn't believe you is a little disgruntling, because it's as true as you know it to be, but also sort of calming. It's easier to know she doesn't just have your number now. It'd be embarrassing if someone as rigid as Maera was suddenly able to read your every move. 
 "Of course," you say simply, settling back down. "Operating on a need-to-know basis is always best when dealing with psychics." You take another bite of your food. "So what did you tell her the last time you spoke with her?"
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 7:34 PM
"Information was conveyed as per the plan. She was informed that you had been followed, that you had discovered your tail, and had retaliated." Cutting neat squares takes attention. You rattle off this information without looking at Cress. "Information given includes your presence in Ghoulisar, and the quarter of the city at the time of the 'attack,' as well as the stationary store you visited prior to purchasing ice cream." 
 It's specific information, specific enough to be real, but not specific enough to bar Cresce from the places she actually likes to go. You're aware of the coffee shop she favors, and you're aware that she seems to enjoy visiting food establishments. If the ice cream shop is one of those, you did not feel a need to mark that one from the roster. None of which you explain, because you're frustratingly cryptic at all times, as a rule. "She expressed disappointment, and displeasure that the debriefing took place long-distance. She then asked for a meeting face-to-face to discuss details." And then you have a new question. "Are you aware of the abilities she possess, if any?"
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 8:19 PM
You listen carefully as she lists the information she gave Lyrian, making note of it so you can maybe predict what she might do next. Her next question is expected, and you chew slowly as you ponder your answer. You're going to have to do it. It's too much to send her in without that knowledge, but it's not a big leap to Maera guessing you hold the same powers. She already knows you're in the IPC. The Imperial Psion Corp.
"She's an empath," you explain. "She can hear what you're feeling and influence it through sound." You look her in the eyes to see what thoughts might be in there. "Where are you meeting her?"
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 8:29 PM
Oh, you don't like that at all, actually. There's several emotions going on. You've paused in your meticulous slicing to process them. Revulsion is chief among them. You don't like mindscourges, but the idea of someone playing with your emotions is even less appealing. Annoyance is present, too, as it sinks in that these powers will almost definitely be used on you, even if only passively. And, unrelated to the first two, understanding - now you know why Cress doesn't respond to the stiffness of your words and face, the way others do. With this, there is some modicum of relief, too. 
 "The location will be issued immediately prior to the meeting, allowing for necessary travel time. However, it will take place on Alternia." And good thing - you sold your issued transport to cover your tracks, and interstellar travel without one involves so much bureaucracy. "Does this concern you?"(edited)
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 8:44 PM
She pauses and you listen to the cacophony of displeasure resolve into something more level. Acceptance, annoyance, even relief? You smile again, less tense. You're pretty sure the relief is about you, and not Lyrian. It's somewhat gratifying, even if you'd have preferred she not put two and two together. 
 "Yes," you say, and it's not a lie. "Will you be alright if she decides you're not trustworthy?" You lean forward on the table again, to put your chin on your hand. You're sure she's capable of fighting off Lyrian herself, but you have no idea what sort of allies she might have.(edited)
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 8:53 PM
You consider your sandwich. No, no, you don't like doing that either. There's... discomfort, under cold reality that you came to terms with sweeps ago. You put down your utensils, without so much as a sound on the plate. "No," you say, finally. "However, this is a reality. Psychic suppression is not innate, nor is it part of the given technology. Should Aubade decide that untrustworthy trolls must be punished or culled, it will be so. This is not news. This interaction is not an exception to the rule." 
 Your hands rest on the tabletop. You scrubbed your gloves of violet blood just days before. They no longer look or smell of it, you know, but in your peripheries, sometimes you see it there still. "Moreover, this profession is a particularly dangerous one. This, too, is not news." It's still better than the caverns. Anything is better than the caverns. You'd rather die than go back there, so if you die, you can say you were prepared for that since four sweeps old. That thought brings a burst of resentment, strong enough that, for a brief moment, your implants go red-orange, before flipping back to green. "The skills possessed are capable, when dealing with a controlled situation," you admit, struggling to find a way to word what you mean. "But she is the one in control."
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 9:10 PM
You put your fork down as you listen carefully to Maera's concerns. It's sentiments you've dealt with before. Usually, you're the person they're concerned about. Scimitars are usually nervous around you and your coworkers, but they've never been in danger from you. Listening to her talk about the mortality of her profession too- it's the same resignation the Scimitars occasionally flash with, with a dose of fear large enough you can see the flare of red from under her hood. 
 "First things first," you say. "Just because you agreed to pick a place right before the meeting, doesn't mean you don't pick before that. I promise you she's doing the same thing. How will you pick where you're meeting?"
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 9:19 PM
You expected her to wave off your concerns, with that peppy smile and breezy attitude she keeps. You expected her to call it silly, to tell you simply that you'd be fine, that she was sure of it. She doesn't, and you aren't sure if that induces comfort or fear. You think, perhaps, both - comfort, in knowing that she is working with you; fear, because her serious approach confirms your worries. 
"Typically, the employer chooses." Because you never had a place of your own, because the lab always wanted you to bend to them. But that's not true now. "This is how it has been done in times past," you clarify. "However, circumstances have changed. The information is intended to be somewhat sensitive, and it is unlikely that she will agree to a public meeting. Therefore, the appointed place must have a certain amount of privacy."(edited)
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 9:26 PM
You pause as she speaks, listening carefully, piecing together pieces of a picture you're not sure you like. She likes that you're working with her, she's afraid, which is natural. But were the changing circumstances the fact you had turned Maera to your side? The pang of resentment and resolve, the pause and the clarification. You're not sure. But you can't imagine any employment with Archtopi labs is pleasant. "What was the excuse you gave her for not meeting in person last time?" you ask.
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 9:30 PM
"Obligations in a further sector, which require a longer journey," you say, this time in a recording of your own voice. This isn't obvious to the untrained ear, but you're repeating from your own records. "Information on said obligation is confidential, as all assignments are. Even if she wished to know, she would not be told."
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 9:34 PM
You pause thinking. "And how did you say I retaliated against my tail?" you ask. A discovered tail and a deferred meeting- if you were Lyrian, you'd already be suspicious something was up. An insistence on a different meeting place is only going to raise more flags.
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 9:43 PM
You find this part amusing. Even realizing that you're handing over a weakness to Cress... you somewhat anticipated being dead when you first started tangling with clowns. The fact that you aren't is a shock. You use this to mitigate the trepidation that comes with what you say next. "The target used an acquired soda bottle to strike, breaking glass on impact and spilling liquid, unknown, across critical junctions in technology. Target then produced a civilian-issue taser in self-defense and disabled tech long enough to escape. Attempts to recover the trail were fruitless, as target evaded each time." The soda part is unnecessary. Hayato disabled you with just an electric pulse, and most of your tech is waterproof. Lyrian, however, doesn't know that.(edited)
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 9:59 PM
You can't help but smile at that. Good details. And enough truth for it to ring true. An electrical pulse to disable her sounds like it could possibly work. "So the best way to manage this I think," you say carefully, "is that when she suggests a place, you tell her that there's something going on there that's not public knowledge but would be better for you both to avoid. A law enforcement conference, or some sort of rebel operation you have foreknowledge of. Get a list of cities and places you're familiar with and suggest an alternative that's the closest geographically to where she suggested." Hopefully that won't trigger too many suspicions on Lyrian's part. "That way you're somewhere more familiar," you say. "And it's something we can do more preparations for."
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Sunday at 10:01 PM
You accept this information readily, but her last line gives you pause. You're surprised, then, confused. "Do you intend to be involved in this preparation process?"
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Sunday at 10:05 PM
You smile at her, just slightly. "Well of course!" you exclaim. "Knowing where she is is half the battle. I can't pass up an opportunity like that. I'm sure you've noticed she has the upper hand in this little tiff of ours. It's time I learn something about her."
March 4, 2019
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Monday at 5:28 AM
You almost smile back. You don't, but you're satisfied with that response, and you feel a little less helpless. This is against mindscourge protocol - if she read your mind, she would know of Cress's involvement - but according to Cress, she can't read minds. She can only read emotions. As long as she doesn't bring backup too, you might be in the clear. 
 "This is acceptable." It's a strange conversation to have over lunch, you're pretty sure, but you're also not exactly chatty. This was always fated to be strange. "More preparations can be made at a later time." A related, more casual question strikes you then: "Do you travel frequently?" It almost sounds like two trolls having a normal conversation. Your true intention, though, is to gather data for making your judgement on cities. Dual-purpose.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Monday at 10:11 AM
Maera's melody shifts from the lone hum of cello string to something lighter and you smile. You'll have to plan for quite a bit. You're not sure what resources you can pull from Torrent- this is your own personal mission after all. You might be able to pull some favors though. Maera sounds similarly calculating. "I don't no," you say honestly. "I'm either in Ghoulisar or Arkady. Sometimes Saahin, but they're all IPC cities and probably not places you want to pick."
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Monday at 11:27 AM
You consider them, and promptly agree: "No. It would be better to choose one with less Corps presence." If you tangle with the law, Lyrian will win. You can't give her that advantage. "Perhaps you will have time to sight-see." This is a joke, though it might not sound that way, to anyone else. You think it's funny. There's never time for sightseeing when you're working, obviously. "This answer is somewhat unexpected. There are many unique places on Alternia, and beyond it. Why do you stay?"
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Monday at 12:23 PM
She's comfortable enough around you to joke, which you like and you smile. When she asks why you don't travel, of all things, you simply shrug. "I'm busy," you say. "My work keeps me on campus, and there's plenty to do around here. I've been on vacation but I don't have the time to make perigee long trips to whatever cities I want, and places I have been, I can't say I know that well."
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Monday at 1:01 PM
"Knowing well is unnecessary. The ability to adapt is much more important." You, for your part, shrug before returning to your food. "No location visited will be known as well as your place of residence, but approximate knowledge is still of worth. Gaps may be be filled with time and research. But if it suits you, consider the question casual in nature, aside from professional."
March 5, 2019
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Tuesday at 12:21 PM
You pick up a fork to chew on more purple noodles. “Oh well I have a lot of approximate knowledge of many places- I just haven’t visited most of them,” you say with a smile. “But I have visited Neuja and Temasek the most.”
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Tuesday at 12:45 PM
"Then you are used to the company of many trolls." It's almost a question. You've been through Neuja, but Temasek is only known to you through your research. You know both are busy places. You know Temasek has too many hopeful tryhards to be safe, either. "If heavily populated areas are "your element," so to speak, it will be easier to hide, in a crowd. Confirm? This is something we can arrange." Dense areas make tracking more difficult, but with luck, you won't need to track. By all means, this should be cut and dry. By all means, Lyrian should be easy to find.
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Tuesday at 12:56 PM
You nod. "Large crowds will also make it much easier to sneak around her," you say. "When there's a lot of emotional noise around it gets harder to track just one song. That's how I found you the first time." You blink up at her, the picture of innocence. She gave you a tidbit on electrical pulses, you can give her this piece on you. Besides, she doesn't know about the abilities of your wetware."
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Tuesday at 1:06 PM
As you file this information away, you dwell on one piece of it: "Song?" It's strange enough that it stutter-steps you out of your monotone voice, strange enough that, for a brief moment, you sound like you're not an unfeeling robot. And then, in your next phrase, all trace of it is gone: "Your inclination towards music runs deeper than expected. This is in-ter-est-ing."(edited)
Tang | MD (indigo) IT (maroon)Last Tuesday at 1:28 PM
You give her a wink. She's lost her monotone too! For the half second you startled her out of it. "What can I say?" you exclaim. "Inspiration is all around me."
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Tuesday at 2:27 PM
She changes her approach at a moment's notice. Though you've worked with trolls before who deal in stealth and subterfuge, you have yet to meet one who balances it so easily with charm. You would call it "genuine," but you aren't sure you're prepared to say that about anything she does. It's better to keep that to yourself. "Noted," you say, never one to waste words. You can't help but be pleased by the way your meeting has gone so far. "When the time comes, contact will be kept." Maybe, you think, you can actually pull this off.
Kitty | neriticNomadLast Tuesday at 2:35 PM
> End thread
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