2024-02-25: The Glass Prison II/III - Restoration/Revelation
- Cast: Seolla Schweizer, Teletha Testarossa
- Where: Hangar Deck, Tuatha de Dannan
- Date: U.C. 0098 08 24
- Summary: A girl recently freed from mental shackles and a girl recovering from injuries talk about what's next.
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
The TDD-1 had turned cautious; Moving about in the open ocean as the fuel supply slowly dwindled, keeping undetected and away from the genral hubbub of civilization. The initial moments after a debilitating incident are the most worrisome: Too early, and they risked being ratted out and hunted. Too late, and the opoortunity costs would be too great. The tenuous game of when and where to poke outside of the water, to check on and investigate last known locations for supplies both banal and mechanical, to ascertain that certain points of interests were abandoned. The call for the Shuffle Alliance's disbandment had already reached their ears: Impossible when the first return helicopter came with the message on hand.
For now, the Tuatha de Dannan was in hiding. Waiting. Scheming.
For now, Tessa walked those halls with a stronger gait, that braid of hers having been abandoned for a simple ponytail. There's a need for hierarchy, a need to keep things relatively sane and structured in this world where a girl without the military structure behind her was commanding a submarine such as this with full consent of the crew. Those dark-ringed eyes of hers alleviated themselves the slightest bit, a coat on her to compensate for the lower power-draw on heating. To conserve and to ensure that this vessel could last for months on end without the need to refuel.
Steps into the hangar deck at the time of internal dusk, her skin slightly paler than the usual. A few days without sun exposure isn't bad...But there were already mental notes to pass by Goldberry's office for a few vitamin D pills. A clipboard with a few hand-scribbled notes in smallhand, the Captain glancing over at the units that were available to deploy. If nothing else, Sacks was great at his job, stripping down the unusable Arm Slaves for repair parts.
The scribbling of a pen echoed out in the deck. A final triple-check of current supplies...
<Pose Tracker> Seolla Schweizer has posed.
It always seems to be that Tessa and Seolla exchange swings in condition, as though drawing from a shared pool of energy - whenever Tessa's been struggling and down, Seolla's been rife with the energy to support her, but now...
Well, recovering from a near-fatal take-down and ejecting dangerously harshly into the TDD's hangar bay left Seolla and the submarine alike pretty dented up. Really, a crash landing that harsh would've run the risk of out and out fatality for most pilots...but, as they all know by now, Seolla's been made to withstand lethal conditions, and had that put to the test oh so often. So...
Bandages wrapped around her head, a crutch under one arm, the still faintly concussed Seolla's sitting on a crate in the hangar, spending her ample free time studying mobile weapon repair manuals - and practicing on spare components. Trying to bypass the memory difficulties through the power of routine and physical memory...
"A...ah. Captain. It's really good to see you," Seolla chimes in a little weakly, setting down her book and giving a salute with her free hand. "...it's a really tough predicament we've been in, huh? Is...everything alright? Is there anything I can help you with? I don't want you to...strain yourself."
Of course, there's an odd tip to Seolla's head giving Tessa a look-over, at how the captain's doing just that touch better despite the adversity... "...I'm so used to seeing you run ragged. ...Huh..."
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
Her hand never stops moving, drawing up a mildly esoteric chart right on the paper. Documenting each and every unit in her sight, going from memory about each one's particular problems and what had to be replaced, taken care of, or workshopped together...The overall picture was less than grim, but for being unable to use any sort of dock, getting these supplies...
The precipice of an internal spiral was halted by the outside notice, a customary salute right back. "At ease." It's hard to not instinctually take note of Seolla's conditions; The knowledge at play to make someone so resilient, the conditioning needed to force that sort of obedience, the sheer manhours that Tessa suspected were in play to make this woman someone who could kill...And she's still alive, even after Merida Island. Nothing short of a miracle, if she could accept such things like that nowadays.
"It's a complicated one, but nothing that isn't par for the course." Even as those hands scribbled, she did step on over, sitting down beside the soldier under her care. "We're...No, I'm in a predicament. I'm sure you've heard the news about the Shuffle Alliance." A glance down at the scribbles before her, scanning them over before releasing an uncouth sigh. The sensation of someone slightly freer, slightly looser with her own self. "I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance to leave at the same time as everyone else."
To help. How? "If you have any personal contacts who can get us in contact with a few factories or supplies under the table, that'd be appreciated." Even so, there was still a minor mental wall... There's a glance up, head sweeping. No, of course no one else is around. The mechanics have gone for dinner. The crew is operating on a skeleton basis: Checking through their own known lines, some having picked up various books and knowledge to help with the crew. "We can't stay down here forever, but I have to keep going, don't I?" A gaze down at the clipboard once again, thumb idly sweeping over a few rows.
"What about yourself? What are you going to do once Doctor Goldberry clears you?"
<Pose Tracker> Seolla Schweizer has posed.
"...You already know I wouldn't have left. From the looks of it, most people haven't either," Seolla assures Tessa. "Especially hearing the news of the Alliance's dissolution...where else would I go? Besides. I can't let it go. I can't let any of what happened go. ...I want to get back at them. All of them."
There's a fiery tension in Seolla's posture, before she stifles a cough from her sore middle torso, arms tightening inward to restrain it. "Ergh...mm. ...I...I didn't want to get him involved, and I don't know if he'd be of any help, but for what it's worth...if I can get in touch with Arado, I'm sure he'd do anything in his power, whatever that may be, to help us under the table. He's a bit of a dummy, but he's resourceful, and if anyone could bluff his way into...I don't even know, somehow getting us a shipyard...maybe he could do it? He's just...a guy though, so don't get your hopes up."
Biting her thumb, Seolla keeps thinking, "I'm not sure Mao Industries has many easy to get to Earthside facilities...it'd be one thing if the TDD could fly up to the Moon. ...Speaking of which, as soon as I know you're all safe and sound, and that we can move where we need to move, it's looking like I'm headed up there indeed. They gave me some pre-emptive...guides and manuals to study. ...They're pretty concerned that those three Behemoths were enough to wreck Merida Island so badly, so there's talk of developing mobile weapons punchier than a Gernsback that can take something as monstrous as that down a little easier. Since I was there, I can give them some added details..."
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
"Somehow, I thought most people would go elsewhere." There's a sigh of resignation following that bleak sentence, brushing her hair back as those numbers are looked at. Again. And again. "I want to get back at them to. I want to crush them." I want to keep going forward.
The sounds of coughing brings out the eyes of concern, though she only opens her mouth in concern. Healing. She needs time to rest and piece herself together. "...Only if he says yes, understand?" There's the tradeoff of technically going alone: There's nothing to exchange other than their own selves, the connections made before this entire mess. If Arado agreed to help, it was to be under his own perogative.
Even on this life goal in front of her, the notion of total usage failed to snag into Tessa's thoughts. These people on her crew...they wanted to be used for her own ends.
"To fly up to the moon..." Her eyes sweeps towards the rest of the submarine proper, a direction where the engines barely hummed with energy. "I don't think that's impossible, given enough time and resources." ...It may have to be done. There's only so much water to swim around in, and with NUNE's influence... "We can hide in OCU waters for now due to their pullout, but I'd rather not be in one region's waters for longer than we have to. If you need to go to the moon...No, I'm not in a place to order any sort of leave or restrictions. Everyone's here...by choice.
"
An exhale.
"So long as you don't sell us out, okay? I can draw up some more detailed schematics of the Behemoth if you need some bargaining power for development's sake. We're floundering without anything right now. Free as a bird, as...Sousuke would say." A glance away.
<Pose Tracker> Seolla Schweizer has posed.
Seolla can't help but laugh a little at the absurdity of imagining the TDD flying up to the moon - only for the analytical look in Tessa's eyes to tell her that it's a serious consideration. "...don't tell me you actually have something up your sleeve for that. ...It'd be cool, but no doubt wildly expensive. If we go anywhere it's the OCU - but it's one thing to evade monitoring and another thing to have allies. Hell...who's to say the OCU didn't send some of those assailants themselves? That Amalgam doesn't have a guy on the inside there?"
...The thought makes Seolla shiver enough to fall against Tessa's side, a long and strained sigh remembering Sousuke. "...It'd be easier with him around. He's kind of a weirdo, but he has a way of brightening the room, when he's not in his own weird little funk. ...I'm sure he's managing something out there. I'm sure we'll see him again some day..."
The very notion of selling out goes unaddressed for a while, the idea making Seolla retreat uncomfortably, before she finally looks up at Tessa and sulks, "I'd only dream of information sharing with trusted and sure allies or suppliers, okay? ...I won't think too hard about what you're thinking, since we have so many enemies right now. All of us are a little paranoid. Nobody will know you exist who doesn't plan to welcome you with open arms, I swear it. Okay...?"
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
"Expensive, some would say unfeasiable, idiotic, and not so smart as to have a flying submarine." There's a smile at that, a derisive chuckle slipping from those lips. "That hasn't stopped me before with this vessel, has it? Even if the OCU has someone on the inside, they aren't part of NUNE. Convincing them that there's something serious enough to breach international borders along with the pullout and reorganization being fresh in people's mind is a tall task, and if someone's willing to stick their neck out for them...We'd have a lead regardless." The movement will happen; If someone publicly asked for it, they'd be investigated. Hook, line, and sinker.
"...So do I." The fire in her soul dims for a moment, barely trying to breach the thought in general. "Him and Kaname...They're both fine." I have to believe that, if nothing else.
And yet, it's the eyes of undeniable innocence that forces her to glance away. To be trusted again and again and again and again, and these thoughts in her mind worming throughout. "I understand. To be honest, the more classified things about who I am-" Technically classified by a phantom organization. "-haven't leaked publicly yet...Either he doesn't want it out, or we've been lucky." Hilariously lucky. To think that Leina didn't breach that particular topic during her tenure was nothing short of another miracle.
"...Really, we're riding on dumb luck, aren't we..." A soft mutter. There was no such thing as miracles. Only the positive draw of the dice, again and again. "What's the cover story for Mao Industries? Another mercenary sent abroad by the general PMC reorganization?"
<Pose Tracker> Seolla Schweizer has posed.
"...When they both are back and we're all safe, let's do something fun all together," Seolla wistfully sighs, weaving her hands together anxiously. "I can only imagine how they feel too, when they might have even less than us here. By comparison, even with as many guns pointed as us as we've got...they're in even more delicate a state, I worry."
Flipping a page in her manual, Seolla glances back and forth between the comparatively simple diagrams in this book and the esoteric ones Tessa's been tracing - her own finger meanders along Tessa's notebook to try and...internalize some of the information, despite not nowing what it could possibly mean.
"I don't think I personally believe in luck - just things we don't currently see. Your info not being leaked means that the people who orchestrated this attack don't want it, which speaks to their motives. Whether it means it's simply unknown, or...that guy wants something else from all this, is yet to be sure. Honestly, from what you've said, I have no idea what he could be plotting..."
Behind her, Seolla reaches for a hat, adjusting it on her head and tilting the brim down to try looking a little more incognito. "Yeah, I'm keeping it simple with the cover. One of the little ones out of Moralia that dissolved recently is a pretty good company to say I fell out of to anyone that asks - they might give me some looks cause I'm only just turning 18 soon, but that's not really that unusual these days..."
"...What about you? Do you know what you'll do yet when you get some sort of free space? I can't imagine you wanna stay in this ship for too long, you'll get stir crazy, but I dunno what'll fill the void Jindai might've..."
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
"Sooner rather than later." A promise to herself, keeping that hope smouldering inside. The spiral of that wave of emotions is forcefully subdued, Tessa releasing another sigh into the re-oxygenated air. Gazing upwards at the top of the covered hangar, allowing herself one moment to breathe. "We have over two-hundred people on board. Those two...Nagoya was a mess out of our control. I can only hope."
She doesn't bother hiding the esoteric scribbles as Seolla looks them over. They're composed, mildly shaky with the exertion of forceful stillness, light lines and grid scratched about documenting internal and external damage. A few lines at the bottom of the page are full of equations that barely have numbers in them.
"I have a few theories, but until we know for certain, I'd like to keep them for myself. If Amalgam is as concentrated as their recent actions has proven, we're in for...a rough time." She's still smiling, slowly straightening her own back. "We still have to learn a few things on that angle."
It's impossible to convince Tessa that Seolla can be hidden, but that's the offshoot of being next to someone so particular for so long. The smallest tilt of the head while looking her over. "There's a few shell companies out there I can give the names of. A few of them were absorbed into others, which should help with obfuscation and appearing that you've separated from Mithril before this." ...Not that unusual, to be a soldier. At 18. The knowledge of that, her own age, her own morality rings in her head.
...Another life.
"Before all this hit, there's been a few letters of acceptances from universities sent to the fake address of my civilian persona. ...I'm not sure if that identity is still safe, but it's good for cover. If he is behind this...I'm not sure the university will be safe. Best to be remote and only head in when needed."
<Pose Tracker> Seolla Schweizer has posed.
A fascination overcomes Seolla, eyes closing and repeating the pattern on the page. It's not just the technical aspects - it's the tinge of Tessa's own nature that colors it, painting the canvas in ways that are distinctly hers.
Another repetition. To understand. ...To grasp that strange...something about Tessa. The way these pictures come out of her captain in such a haunted way.
It's a hypnotic, quiet little moment, in the quiet solitude of the hangar.
( ( I wish I could comprehend it. ) )
Silently, that idea reverberates. Like a lantern glowing at Seolla's heart.
"...That hope you keep lit up is...wonderful. Please never lose it," Seolla murmurs. "Fighting so hard to protect us - protect me, when I'm just someone who pulls triggers for the sake of others...I may not understand it, ever really...but...I want to give you that other life you deserve."
It's difficult to imagine what Seolla might've done besides fighting. She doesn't remember growing up anywhere else, beyond fits and starts of half-lit non-memories, long etched away, long scribbled over, long deformed into silhouettes. For a minute, thinking too hard about it, she sees two tiny shapes - the size of children - and reaches out to them protectively, as though asking them to get back.
But they drift away before they can move, and there's a long dejection pouring from Seolla.
"...What will you pursue in university? It's...probably kind of fake, isn't it? I mean...you've already designed this whole submarine, and countless weapons besides. ...If anything, it's you who has something to teach them, huh...?"
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
The sheer relaxed nature of it all underlines the dissonance of the scribbles on-hand. Professional analysis scratched out so easily, a deep comprehension of what makes these machines tick, down to suggested tweaks and variances based on their individual injuries. A few abbreviations suggest the strength of the muscle fibre, even.
She stays quiet during it, adding a few more scratches as she eyes over a dented piece of shin armor on an M9. The wish of comprehension...An eyebrow perks up. "...Try seeing what you can understand at Mao Industries. Every engineer I'm aware of loves talking about their work to someone who wants to hear about what they've done." She doesn't try to exclude herself from that.
"Pulling triggers for the sake of others is..." She trails off, pulling the clipboard away. "I know it's a stupid thing to say, but I want this world to be one that that can never come to pass again. It'll never happen, considering-" A sweep of an arm across the room. How many millions does all this total up to? Hundreds. "-all this. But at least, the choice should be conscious one. Not...us." There's a breath taken, closing her eyes for a moment.
Opening them to watch that hand reach out to nothing, brushing the bangs of her own hair back as the mental notepad expands another line.
"Unfortunately, I can't release any sort of blueprint for this vessel. Mardukas and Uncle Broda suggested the arts, something outside of this sphere. Even remotely, I could easily get PhDs in most engineering disciplines in a year or two..." A small grumble. She can't show herself. Even these thoughts in her head, those ones that started pinging her every so often, the subtle whispers coming from everywhere and nowhere at every waking moment...Even those can't be documented without worry about what harm they'll cause. "I haven't decided which part of the arts, specifically, but...There's a year of general classes to easily pass before the time comes to choose." Unusually candid, when only a month prior, she'd only talk about it off the ship.
In here, in full uniform, Tessa talked about the side of her brimming with humanity for the first time.
<Pose Tracker> Seolla Schweizer has posed.
"It's not a stupid thing to say." Seolla sighs out, her finger gently darkened from tracing Tessa's drawing. "Of course it's not a stupid thing to say. Who doesn't want that? Only a handful of psychopaths really want it. ...I...can't help but feel like it's too late for my life to be any other way, but we can still dream of a world where we could've been something else, you know..."
But then, Tessa brings up going into the arts, and that brightens something up in Seolla, turning her gentle low-key dreaminess back into something that glows. "...You'd be amazing at that! I think this stuff you're drawing is a little bit abstract, but-"
Fussing with her side satchel, Seolla draws forth her pocket notebook, filled with lots of drawings of faces and other things important to remember. Already, she gets to work, repositioning to start drawing Tessa's face from this somewhat close side-angle. "...O...oh, uhm. Can I do this? This book never leaves the TDD, for what it's worth - none of my belongings go from anywhere to anywhere..."
<Pose Tracker> Teletha Testarossa has posed.
"Too late?" ...Maybe. Maybe so, maybe not. "...We're the same age, Seolla. I'm here by choice because I decided to be here. Mithril, this submarine, why I'm here, all that was because of choices I made with what I could do." Everything from the start. "You...You didn't have that same luxury." Watching that finger trace along the lines, the lightest of cosmetic smudges. "The only time it's too late is when we're on our deathbeds." Even as the thought resounds inside her.
It's too late for her. Even with that advice, to say it but to justify it with the inciting change being her own fault.
"You...think so?" A glance downwards; It's all words and equations and numbers, only the rudimentary forms of Arm Slaves to specifically point out articulation and general silhouette intents alongside reams of lines. "Abstract art is something that I've heard people use..." Another small mutter to herself.
"I'm surprised you haven't drawn one yet. Am I that distinct?" A poke at her own brow, tracing along the the forehead, eyeline, cheekbone, jawline...Really, she's just another face. How could this one stick out so much? And yet. "...Pinky promise." The Captain of the TDD-1 holds up a pinky in the sacred offering of a promise between...
....Friends.
<Pose Tracker> Seolla Schweizer has posed.
"I'm a year younger than you, I...I think? It's hard to remember, but I'm pretty sure..." One of those cases where a startling number of children with Christmas birthdays were abducted over the past decade once the Whispered phenomenon made them something of a lottery to get ahold of - getting the time or even the entire year wrong was an acceptable cost, and most of them never found their jackpot...
"...Faces don't stick out to me that easily. That's why I draw them like this." Seolla furrows her brow, erasing and re-sketching and re-erasing each contour of Tessa's features until she's satisfied. She's so accustomed to seeing her captain with a braid that she's suddenly surprised noticing the ponytail, and finally, Seolla mentions, "...You changed your hairstyle, huh. It's simpler, but I like it. I've been thinking of doing more with mine, but it might need to grow out a little more..." The bangs are finally starting to cross over Seolla's eyes somewhat - perhaps on cue with noticing Tessa's shift in hairstyle, Seolla undoes the little band keeping her own side-braid in place, tumbling down as a loose spiral over one temple.
And to that, Seolla makes her promise. To what? For what? She doesn't know. And yet she knows exactly. It's a privilege to care this much for someone, to trust someone this much, and they both understand it deeper than words. Her own little finger rises up to cross with Tessa's-
And a faint tear trails down Seolla's cheek. "...No matter what. I promise."