2023-03-11: Somewhere I Belong
- Cast: Teletha Testarossa, Leina Ashta
- Where: Merida Island
- Date: U.C. 0097 03 11
- Summary: Mithril's layers of secrecy peeled back, with a teenage girl showing the withered core of herself.
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
There's a minor, distinct spring in her step as she paced about in the conference room. The positivity of the past few days clashing with the negativity of her current situation, bringing into motion an indistinct cloud of emotions radiating from her at the current point. With the light batch of files and folders she had on the table, there was nothing to do but wait.
Whispered. Such a word all on its own, such a word that had carried itself with such meaning inside Mithril so as to talk about it using codewords. The sense of relief to talk about this, to talk about everything involving Mithril's mission...It was, if she had to admit...The slightest bit exciting.
After all, it was who she was. It was part of her at this point. Why shouldn't a teenage girl be happy about the work she's done in her life?
Ah, it's no good, it's no good...She sits down, trying to check over those files one last time. Leina had the invite, she'd be pointed over to the proper conference room. It's not like people wouldn't recognize Sayla's Ward...She only hoped that there wasn't much of a pity party for what had happened.
Kaname Chidori teleports in.
G-Stone Shard goes home.
<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.
Despite the fact that Merida Island is now a Shuffle base, Leina Ashta does not walk around like she owns the place. She's not scandalizing military men and women alike by showing up in her Sheryl Nome shirts and denim shorts.
Nah, today Spade-7 heads for the conference room wearing a smart tan pantsuit with a black blouse beneath, a subdued black barrette in the left side of her hair, with a pair of flats, while carrying her purse, and a messenger case both.
Arriving at the conference room, there's a knock, and Leina pushes open the door, leans past the threshold as if checking the room with a smile Tessa's way, then lets it close, locking it behind her with a click of the simple lock.
"Hey Tessa. Even though we're here for business today, dying to talk to you about how prom went for you."
Taking a seat across from the Mithril Colonel, she slings her purse over the back of her chair, and puts the case down beside it before sitting down and crossing one leg over the other. She's not even taking out her datapad yet until she reads the room when it comes to just how classified this is.
For some things taking notes just isn't appropriate.
"Alright. I'm ready."
And then she just gives her the floor.
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
Tessa herself is clad in her usual Mithril uniform. Once a military brat, always one...or rather, she's on the job. She can't exactly not be in the presence of the ones under her in anything other than her work clothes. The room itself has the usual flairs of An Organization With Things To Hide: As soon as that door closed, a small light flickered on at the front. Do Not Disturb.
And inside, another red light flicked on. CLASSIFIED. Gaudy, but effective at the obvious.
"Hey, Leina~ I think it went pretty well...Sousuke's crowning was a surprise, but I think I surprised him even more." She's pretty chipper about it! It takes all of a few sseconds for that bright smile to wear back down, to sigh as she recentered herself in her work.
"Right to it, then. Whispered..." The word hangs in the air. Where to start? Where to begin with this? Where to end it on?
"...Have you ever thought about where the Arm Slaves came from?" An inconnuous question, one that the answers came...Not so obviously. One day, there wasn't Arm Slaves. The next, there were. Semi-ubiquitous in certain circles, the humanoid robots immediately springing up all around. Renowned for their kinethstic take on the prototypical mechanical suit, able to be picked up and used by people with good hand-eye coordination with less training than a Mobile Suit. Mostly.
"It doesn't take much to trace the origin of them back. You have the current Arm Slaves, then the previous generation, then the previous one...and then, nothing. The XM4 is where it begins, but there's no real connection to any of the suits of the time. This is around...0083? 0082?" She's recalling this from memory. There's barely any movement to look at the files in front of her, ones stuffed to the brim with Arm Slave Schematics, the specifications, the origins of them...all leading from the XM4. "But there's nothing pointing to them being developed off of the Mobile Suits at the time."
A small shuffle. There's a blueprint of the Britain Gundam, the distinct features circled. And right next to it, the M6 Bushnell. "Inspections of the Bushnell has some of the obvious features of a humanoid mobile suit, but the interiors are entirely different."
"Why? Because it's not of this world. THe knowledge, quite literally, did not exist yet."
A deep breath in, a deep breath out. She's staring at those twin blueprints. "If you see here..." Five minutes of straight technological explanation, detailing out the differences. The tweaks. The subtle understanding of mechanical engineering that would have driven mechanics mad, but also stupidly sensible tweaks and adjustments and improvements both large and small to make something like this work. "...And that's how they're different."
A beat.
"A Whispered is someone who knows that knowledge innately...No, more than that. Skipping the learning process entirely, to just have it flow in and see the connections there. Seeing these two pieces of paper, seeing them in your minds eye inside and out with complete understanding. It all makes sense, down to the theories which can be written out in a full paper if asked." A tap of that blueprint. "They just know, and more importantly, it's knowledge that...is dangerous. EMP Fields. Minovsky Particles. The Lambda Driver. How to properly apply fluid dynamics to the movements of mobile suits. All of them are confirmed to reach PhD level understanding of physics, math, engineering, and technology with time."
...Her mind is pouring. There's relief. She can tell someone. Deliberately avoiding how she knows all this, despite the obvious.
"Whispered are people who have knowledge that can change the world, coming from another place entirely. I've seen it myself...How you can use that knowledge without aim and cause death."
...Another deep breath.
"Any questions, Leina?"
<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.
The lights come on, which makes for a more mysterious atmosphere, which is when Tessa drops one incredible mystery for Leina Ashta, "God I want to just ask you to spill right here and now but-"
Leina dials back that shipper brain, "-business first."
'Whispered' is the name given and Leina just blinks, "That's both an apt term and a little on the nose all at once." She comments, a touch abstracted as if remembering what she felt within Tessa, Kaname, and Shari all at once.
Her attention does snap back almost instantly, as she contemplates the answer to the question without speaking up. 'Variable Fighter. Wanzer. Mobile Suit.' It's like her mind is tracing history and her brow is furrowing in thought. 'Arm Slave.'
Folding her hands in front of her, she tries to contemplate Tessa's implications there even not being someone who is known for being that technically minded. She stares at the picture of the Bushnell and the Mobile Suit.
"So you're saying this technology wasn't a divergent evolution of existing technology but... it came out of..."
Leina's lips form an 'O.' as if she's made at least one connection from Tessa's implications, as she keeps staring at them in wonder.
Tessa then keeps explaining, what a Whispered is, and Leina tries to line that up against her experiences in her mind. She does remember something flowing in, it's just her mind couldn't grasp it, keep up with it.
Her mouth kinda goes a little more agape as she explains the implications of this, the level of understanding that is required. How much of this has been a gamechanger in the realm of warfare, "Oh my God. Just..." She rubs the side of her face.
Leaning back in her chair, she takes a moment to collect herself, 'Does she have any questions?' "... A few? For example and I'll tell you before I've asked that I have failed to record this anywhere." She gives Tessa a searching, "I noticed that birthdays of certain individuals all lined up to be on Christmas Eve."
Leina doesn't say whose birthdays for certain reasons of course, but, "Would it be accurate to hypothesize that unlike Newtypes, that Whispered originate from some artificial means or at least, if unknown, are theorized to?"
Leina struggles to remember those experiences, despite her best efforts, she just understands, "How many organizations understand this implicitly already and are actively searching for Whispered and this technology?"
She ticks off another finger in question, "The Lamba Driver isn't something I recognize, but I have a feeling I've encountered it before, in the Codarl of one Atrytone? I remember its capabilities being... classified, but when I fought it, I found myself facing mysterious energy attacks."
Leina then gives Tessa a meaningful look, "And, I'd ask if you would mind us discussing it on a personal level, or if you'd prefer not, even here."
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
She can't help but feel a bit of...pride in herself? This was who she was. This was who she really was. Pride...and a bit of fear. It's simple to keep track of Leina's reactions; They're bare, completely honest for her to read without having to think too hard.
This was who she was. Someone who could make such things.
"...Exactly right. All known Whispered have a birthday of December 24, 0079, within the range of a few minutes of 2350 Standard Time." Right on the money. No need to try and hide anything, to even suspect anything from Leina. She was authorized.
There was to be no barriers here.
"...We do. More than we think, but we haven't had a reason to go there, if the intel is right." ...Theories? Truths? "If we interfere, it might cause something worse than just Black Technology, Triple Zero, or a Colony Drop." Something far worse.
"As for what organizations know of it...We theorize there's one out there. Somewhere. Codarls aren't of regular making, and Mithril has attempted to at least catalogue every Whispered that exists." The thought of a particular Codarl...
"You're correct. Ah, I should clarify; I know about Al's programming, but I wasn't the one who programmed it. Bani...lost himself to the Whispers."
An image flickers in her mind. So much blood. So much matter. So many fluids that shouldn't be outside of a person. That room, without an inch uncovered.
It takes a small moment for her to answer Leina's final question. "...What do you mean, Leina?" One of genuine curiosity. "This is on the personal level."
<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.
Leina to her credit, for all the vast and dire implications of Whispered technology, doesn't seem afraid at the moment. Certainly her mind is moving a mild a minute to reframe her worldview, to click all of these pieces around it.
"That's... wow. Such a small window of opportunity for someone to be a Whispered." She rubs a finger against her chin, "It makes the search both simpler and more difficult, because anyone who has put this together will alter the birth certificates, even the individuals in question would not necessarily be aware."
The question rings in her mind. 'What did they do? What did they do?'
Pinching the bridge of her nose then rubbing her face, "Worse than all that... huh? Best not to poke..." Maybe she's remembering the eyes. Those eyes. "... that."
Her relief seems visible that there's just 'one' out there. Not that this is just some secret that every Federation bloc knows and has 'Whispered' labs running on the downlow.
The image resonates in hers, and Leina may go a shade paler. It's not as if she's looking at Tessa differently, but she's horrified perhaps of the grief she must have felt, of the idea that that is looming over her, "Oh my God... I'm so sorry. Was he a friend of yours?"
She might just alter her approach to Al a little now, she's... thinking about it certainly.
The final question though, she can understand her confusion, "Well, so far we've discussed it mostly in terms of general knowledge as to what Whispered are."
he gives Tessa a searching look, "I wanted to ask what it's like for you. How do you cope with the Whispers? I saw poor Shari." A beat, then quietly, "She was screaming when they came to her. It was... so jarring compared to what happened to Kaname that night."
She gets a smile on her face again eventually, a supportive one, "Whatever you're comfortable sharing, I'd like to hear about it. Just. What's it like living with this. With this kind of knowledge just... coming to you?"
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
"It's a bit worrying, but we haven't confirmed any other organizations learning about the phenomenon. It's a distinct possibility, but I believe that the proliferation about Newtype discussions would blunt the search considerably." Not to mention the majority of the planet would rather make Cyber Newtypes thanks to the action of one man. A terrible curse.
Poking at that. "There's no reason to, since its still working. We, Mithril, aren't aware of anything similar occuring elsewhere, so...Better the devil you know, is how that goes?" There's no reason to go there. NOt when so much is smouldering already.
She manages a forlorn smile. Those memories of him are treasured, and even if its been years...It's still tender, all the same. "A dear one. He wanted to keep diving into them, more and more, and one day...He went too deep." She leaves it at that. The implications are obvious. Bani, don't worry. Your work is being used and treasured.
The Captain of the TDD-1 raises an eyebrow. Shari. The enigmatic one. Screaming? It made sense; Taking in something unknown, feeling it suddenly click in your skull, understanding something that you never knew... "It comes differently to everyone...Or maybe, she hasn't learned how to cope with it." The pragmatic side of her speaks. No. Don't assume everyone is beneath you. How long did it take you to understand yourself? Do you understand yourself?
...It takes a moment. The various emotions shifting through her, clear as day. Fear. Apprehension. Resistance. The inner war of rationality slowly crumbling into understanding. How much to say? How to say it? How to properly convey this blessing, this curse, this hell, this heaven she was inflicted and coronated with? Lips twisting as she glanced away, trying to settle on an answer on the spot...
Her lips part after a moment. "I just know things. It's like riding a bike. One moment, you don't know what you're doing, The next, it's like I've been doing it all my life. When I was young, I had a problem in front of me. Just something from my father's bookshelf, some brainteaser puzzle of math. I don't remember the problem itself, just...reading it over like I always did, big words on a complicated page because I was a kid and enjoying myself."
"...And one of those times, I opened it, read it, set the book down, got a piece of paper, and wrote out the solution. I got more pages. It took three front-to-back pages, all written out, all detailed, proofs, theorems, understanding, the entire gamut along with an extra tidbit because it was a math puzzle problem, not something to completely solve."
"I was six, Leina. That book was meant for post-grad college students."
A hand slowly moves in, hugging herself. It's...difficult to contextualize. She's equally apprehensive and relieved. "Imagine a house. You know it in and out. You walk by a new door, but your body acts as if its completely natural. Its always been there. Imagine that happening ever since you could think. Repeatedly, without end. The house keeps expanding, and you remember how small it was. But you can't just unbuild what's already there from the implicit start."
A tightening grip on her sleeve. Its just pouring out. She can't stop herself.
"...Eventually, you start imagining you see the same thing. Again and again. A feedback loop of deja vu. Your mind keeps repeating the same steps, again and again. It feels like everything is familiar, but its entirely brand new." Deja vu, over and over and over.
"Imagine that feeling from the moment you wake up until you fall asleep. Every day."
The Whispered teenager offers a smile. Her ashen eyes, already marked with the stresses bagged on by those two fateful months, shine through with the tinge of that faint ephermeal feeling of worldliness.
She's so tired.
"I don't know if the others feel it the same way, but...That's how I am with it, Leina. I've managed my own coping mechanisms with it, and I don't know how long it will last, but...I'm not going to keel over and accept it."
<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.
Leina's eyes trail down, a rueful smile on her face. There's a cruel sort of cloud cover to Cyber Newtypes being so prolific. Part of wonders if its not for the best.
Nothing about this is for the best. Neither the Whispered nor the Newtype should be utilized to create weapons nor be weapons.
"That's a relief, for a moment there I was worried that every bloc in the Federation had a secret 'Whispered' lab."
The implications that that could be the future, are unsettling to her, how much of the Institute was built around Yuliana's idiosyncracies?
"Yeah, I can't think of a worse outcome than some idiot science criminals without ethics pouring gasoline over everything trying to delve into the unknowns here." She murmurs to herself, before... she listens to her speak of her dear friend, diving into them, further and further. Part of her thinks of Rita, diving further and further into her predictions until the only way was...
"I know it's a cold comfort, but I am sorry for your loss." She listens to her speak about Shari and there's this, slow nod, "There were... differences too, compared to you or Kaname. Just... the same in many ways, but something else was there too."
She tries to consider how to phrase this, seems ready to speak up, utter the words, then just, stops again, and starts over, "I believe at this time its the entity that Doctor Elisa Kafim and Yuliana Kafim... worship, in a sense. I think that's what I accidentally connected to."
Leina can feel her fear, apprehension, the inner turmoil of Tessa over this, over all of this. At first she sits there, trying to comprehend being a child who doesn't have this knowledge, and suddenly you just do. All of it being crammed into one's head more and more, as if it were always there.
Still she listens, as if entranced by her account. However she can tell by her body language, just how vulnerable she seems, sharing this, pouring out her mental landscape, what she goes through each and every day.
By the time Tessa's finished telling her what she goes through, she can't take it anymore. There's a scrape of her chair, as she lets it slide back. Then stands up, and moves around the table, sliding her arms around Tessa into a tight hug.
For a time she doesn't say anything, but as her walls slip down, Tessa might get a glimpse.
A younger Leina in a ballroom. The room is full. It is full of military officers and aristocrats and officials. A regent and a Princess.
The room is full.
The room is full.
The room is full.
Sweat builds on the girl's brow as she starts to look around in a panic.
The room is full.
The room is full.
The room is empty.
Everyone is empty.
These people are hollow.
Their actions are hollow.
Everything done without feeling or meaning.
White gloves applaud like shades in the dark.
The only sign that people should exist here.
This is why the world exists as it does.
In an instant knowing more than anyone should know of the people around them.
And just having to live with this going forward.
"I don't know what its like, living as you do." She murmurs quietly, "I don't. I can't. But I do know what its like living with something like it that can be horrible, having to cope with it each and every day."
A hand rubs at Tessa's back, seeming to understand how tired she is implicitly as she murmurs to her reassuringly, "I'm glad, I'm glad you can share this with all of us now, with Kaname, with Sayla, with me. ... Because we'll be there for you." A momentary pause and she says this with a determination, a conviction almost, "We'll make sure you don't have to go through this alone, ever again."
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
She's trying to remain composed, the teenager managing to retain a sense of self after everything. What a mess it all was, and what a mess it continued to be.
"I wouldn't be so pessimistic. Mithril's quite thorough in following every lead we have."
"Thank you." It means a lot, even with that. Bani was the one who laid so much. She can't afford to allow his memory to fade. THe next few sentences does keep her eyebrow raised.
"What's out there is unknown, but...we can't just not look away from it. I don't think being near either would be for the best, but we may end up crossing paths, especially for Shari." Whatever she may think. It's cruel...Is it?
After her entire explanation, no, her baring of her heart, she barely makes a move in resistance. To nestle into Leina, that ever-tired gaze looking at nothing but the wall before regaining her sense of self. A slow slip of her own arms, returning the tight hug.
She doesn't have to say anything. It's just...a moment. The sort of comfort she could never get from her parents again, the sort of comfort forged from empathy and understanding. The images sink into her brain, ever-present, ever-devouring of everything new. Building those figurative cots and broomclosets, implicitly integrating those images into her mind.
One moment, she knew nothing.
The next, she had absorbed more information of "something".
Her hug is tight. Strong. Refusing to part from this comfort, the hidden strength of a military officer instinctually used. "...Mhm." It's surprising. Her own voice is so strained, it comes out more as a grunted sob. "Mithrhic...Mithril is aware." Aware, but not emphatic. There is understanding and attempted comprehension, but not connections. People who understand. People who try to understand. But. They're all older than her. Wiser. Technically.
"I was...right to not have any other business the rest of the...hic...day." So tense. So bundled up. "You're a cruel woman, you know." A few blinks of her eyes. Ah. Tears? ...Tears? Tears...Yeah, those are tears down her cheek. Relief? Sorrow? She can't place these emotions, vulnerable as she was. "You're making me bare my heart when your own walls are so tall." Demonic.
"I hope telling th-hic. The rest of them doesn't take me out for a...week..."
<Pose Tracker> Leina Ashta has posed.
<poem>
For all she disliked her impression of Amit, she has no doubt that such a man is following every lead as far as they go. She just, squirms a bit to think of what methods he might use.
"Agreed she... she needs help, I feel."
Once embraced, Leina doesn't let go, she lets the tired Tessa lean against that wall. Even as high as it can sometimes be however, she's not Sayla. Things slip out. Things are shared.
Throughout the sobs, there's this motion of her hand at Tessa's back, just this small trace of her hand in an almost perfect circle, in such an even rhythm. It's just this soft consoling gesture.
'Aware' The thought itself is dry, hollow in Leina's mind. So many people are aware without truly being aware.
"You were right to take the day." Leina affirms, perhaps a touch too seriously, "Do you know how long I'll be probing you for prom details after this?"
It's just a light tease, maybe to break up the tension, before her next comment sinks in, and the motion stops at her back, as her other hand slides up to Tessa's face, thumbing away a tear as it drops
"Mmm. You might be right. It is unfair of me isn't it?" Leina murmurs quietly looking at her with seagreen eyes, "Cruel. Tell you what. Just let me take care of you today."
She says soothingly, "Just today at least. You need this. Maybe you've needed this for a long time." She asserts, "And I promise, one day, I'll let you through, and see me for everything that I am. Even the things Banagher and Mineva haven't seen."
Her smile carries such warmth, "Okay?" It then transforms into a faint grin, "Actually I'm going to impossible, and hope each and every one of them does. You could really use the vacation time after that whole Tsutsujidai incident."
The grin, the tease is gone again after a moment, to just that gentle smile, "Everything that happens in here is classified - and more importantly just between us. Noone will bother us here so, take all the time you need." A beat, "There's nowhere else I need to be today, other than here with you." She tells her, reassuringly.