2023-09-12: Sufficiently Engineered God Rays

• Cast: Liu Mei Wang, Anser Vulpecula
• Where: Riksent
• Date: U.C. 0097 09 12
• Summary: A missionary with a higher calling attempts to proselytize and/or bribe a wayward soul.

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<Pose Tracker> Liu Mei Wang has posed.

        Riksent, the resplendent city of gold.

        Even today, its late-afternoon cloudiness paints the entire sky in an ethereal yellowish glow, a fractured sun diffusing over the coastal waves. It's that kind of fairy tale of a city - the one where its reality is pure, simply, and straightforwardly: luck. The harsh truth of this world is that ideals and strategy only get you so far - sometimes, peace and prosperity come because you happened to settle near something, or some place, valuable.

        It's into this gilded city that one Anser Vulpecula has received a mysterious offer. An all expenses paid train ticket redeemable from anywhere in the Earth Sphere's transit network, signed with a mysterious little note.

_____________________________________________________________________________
[ Before the era becomes engulfed in war, we would like to extend an offer. ]
[ You are being contacted owing to your talent, experience, and view. ]
[ We are CELESTIAL BEING. We seek a world prepared for the future. ]
[ For the dialogues to come, the planet and mankind must accept change. ]
[ This message will be scrubbed from your device within five minutes. ]

        ...The attached destination is a cafe high in the hills overlooking the rest of Riksent. A little too expensive for most peoples' tastes - but secluded and private from prying eyes. Seated elegantly with a tea cup in hand is a sharp eyed young girl, dark hair tied up in twintails, wearing a dark blue one-shoulder-strap evening dresss and silky opera gloves...she's in the middle of navigating potential contracts between the rulership of Riksent and Celestial Being, even as they're unlikely to accept.

<Pose Tracker> Anser Vulpecula has posed.

Things have been in a state of flux for Anser Vulpecula.

Her inroads with the Shuffle Alliance were largely decided for her out of a sense of duty, and now that things have grown tense, she's passed the time by doing what she did before it - busying herself with odds and ends, largely operating out of Sweetwater, but business (or the occasional battered Jagd Doga) bring her back to earth with a degree of regularity.

Enough, at least, that when she received that cryptic message on her device, she didn't just ignore it out of course - even if it does twist her expression from its typical form, the veneer of neutrality slipping for a moment as she scans her eyes over the message a half-dozen times before she puffs a loose lock of hair from in front of her eyes, brushes it back into place, and shoulders her bag of equipment with a swing and a soft grunt. It's more manageable in Low/Zero-G than on Earth.

A train-ride away, and the short mechanic hoists her bag off of the above-seat stowage, gritting her teeth as she tries to reach it for a good five seconds before grumbling and shoving a boot on the seat to boost her up so that she can snag it. Then she's off and stomping, checking her phone, checking the map.

Then...

A soft tinkle of the bell above the door chiming elegantly, and the wait-staff politely acknowledging her from behind the counter. She takes a few steps backward to examine what's on offer, but it's clear to see she's furtively looking around at the clientele. Of which there's... really only one.

The clomp of boots approaches, and Anser pulls the chair out and sinks into it all at once. Her expression is placid. As it almost always is.

In counterpoint to the elegance of the one she's sharing a table with, Anser's dressed down. Tall socks. Sensible wool skirt. A black graphic tee with a faded, felting logo of some sort of local mascot of an automotive shop on Sweetwater. Some sort of cartoonish otter. The workboots don't quite fit the look, but it doesn't seem to be stopping her. She slings her bag loudly to the side.

"...You've got five minutes before I scrub myself from this Cafe." Anser murmurs, leaning forward and resting her cheek to her palm. "Make your pitch."

<Pose Tracker> Liu Mei Wang has posed.

        The briefest flick of Liu Mei's head towards the chiming bells - then, one eye closed, a careful sip of tea as the rougher-hewn engineer sits opposite her. A serene expression, that gently shifts into a wry little smile.

        "Anser Vulpecula, well met. Hmmmm." Fingers folded beneath her chin, those gold-hued eyes loop down and up, traveling her company in a quick once-over. "Good, you don't waste time. Punctuality is important in both of our lines of work. ...At this stage, I may as well give myself a real introduction. Please, call me Liu Mei. ...I like what I've heard about you. Resourceful, crafty, a strong sense of justice. It's perfect."

        Liu Mei leans forward an inch in her chair, elbow pressing into the ornate metal leaf-like patterns that make up the tabletop. "...That secretive little society. You caught wind of it too, that they're pretty compromisable. That they're a little too willing to let personal qualms get in the way of doing what's gotta be done. I'm surpried they've done as much as they have. An attitude like that - don't you think it gets in the way? Our own... 'company' is always in search of adaptive engineers, and we live and die by rather rigid codes of ethics, shall we say, rather than any form of hierarchy."

        A waiter in an imacculate suit steps forward, and with a quick glance down to the menu, Liu Mei carefully orders, "The courgette and red trout for me. Oh, and a glass of the Plavac Mali. I'll treat myself." She spins the little booklet over to Anser. "My treat, of course. Yes, it's a sneaky scheme to buy more than just five minutes from you, go ahead and call me out on that.~"

<Pose Tracker> Anser Vulpecula has posed.

Her fingers tiptap against her cheek. A subtle drum of slender fingers that should be willowy and graceful but instead are covered in callouses - doubtless a similar story on her palms under the fingerless gloves she's wearing.

"I'm surprised you've heard of me at all." There's a slight downward tug of Anser's brow. This is a woman who clearly dislikes having her name starting to get around.

All the same, she weathers the compliments without deflecting them. They are, after all, true statements - there's little point in trying to bat away such things unless they're overblown or simply in service of stroking her ego, and the suspicious look on her face isn't exactly hiding. She's trying to discern if that's what this is. Her eyes look rather intense in so doing - an unintended side-effect of crimson irises. They just look intense by default.

She accepts the menu from Liu Mei, and primly closes it in the same motion. She turns her head sharply toward the waiter, "Drip coffee." That gets a stricken look in response, and she rolls her eyes, "Black coffee. Something. Press it, pour it over, whatever. Black."

She flits her focus back to Liu Mei. "...Well, I haven't heard a thing about you - and the last person who gave me an idealistic pitch like this one was trying to sell me on a dream that was nothing but a mealy-mouthed pile of falsehoods I was too young to see for what they were. So, I guess you can say I have experience when it comes to not wanting to do the same thing. If you've done your homework on me, you probably know that by now."

A young engineer. Neo Zeon. Rewloola. Defected shortly after the attempted drop on Earth. A rising talent in the field of Psycommu, as Nanai Miguel's pupil.

Anser lifts her head and casually folds one leg over the other, skirt slightly riding up. She doesn't seem fussed about it, given she's wearing spats.

"What code? What ethics? What goal? What do you stand for?"

<Pose Tracker> Liu Mei Wang has posed.

        "That same experience is why you would be very valued," Liu Mei laughs to herself behind one hand, finishing off that teacup and setting it diligently aside before the waiter returns with the wine and the coffee. It's...medium quality coffee. Obviously organic, but this is the sort of dining venture that clearly gives their all to the wine, and the coffee's there out of public demand more than genuine passion. Better than the canned stuff, at least.

        "See, in my mind, we found ourselves with too high a quotient of zealots for my liking. They're obedient and strong-willed as anyone would like, and I'm sure if I pulled my strings right, enough of them might favor dying on the cross of making me queen of the world or something silly. But that's really not I or anyone else want."

        Swirling her wine glass, Liu Mei takes a steady sip - and a warm flush crosses her face. She's still not used to this stuff. "I'd have hoped Mr. Schenberg's writings spoke well enough, but I can't assume everyone caught up on his political philosophy. It seems that while his actual work was influential, it took the re-announcement of his intent two years ago for others to remember the point of it all. I'll boil it down~"

        Eyes closing for a while, Liu Mei reclines backwards, giving her recount distance from Anser, her hand trailing the craggy shape of Riksent's seashore. "Soon, Earth will engage in the 'dialogues to come'. He's very insistent on that phrasing. I suppose if it rigidly means 'first contact', that ship sailed, but I always assumed he meant more than that. Mhm. All the talk about Newtypes makes me think he was onto that. Dialogues with 'ourselves', the beginning of true connections with others, with the universe itself. You've seen it, right? Miracle after miracle erupting in the sky? Those, I believe, are the opening stanzas of this dialogue. Or, maybe, the throes of one waiting to happen, struggling to emerge."

        "The world trying to have those dialogues is hopelessly corrupt, though. Its leadership actively stifles and misunderstands each miracle. It clings to the preservation of power, and rising revolutionaries - like silly Casval Deikun - think of them as judgment. That those who have begun to speak must punish those who haven't. But..."

        Both hands upon her cheeks, Liu Mei turns her attention back to Anser - taking a second sip of deep rich-colored wine. A dreamy look enters her half-lidded eyes - and yet, there's almost something...

        ...less 'intentional', more 'open'. "Maybe I'm going at this all wrong. Do you think humans can change themselves? Do you think that they can wish their way to a better world? And do you think forgiving men like Casval, believing he can change, is ironically a repudiation that anyone else can? That's my own personal belief. My company would agree, and had already acted with the determination to eradicate him at Palau. If we had our way, he'd be gone for good."

<Pose Tracker> Anser Vulpecula has posed.

A subtle craning of her head is all the response out of Anser that Liu Mei receives after openly speaking of zealotry and the hypothetical matriarchy. She lifts the cup of coffee with both hands, cradling it in her palms and the lower halves of her fingers so that the gloves absorb the brunt of any excess heat. When she does take a sip, she seems... pleasantly surprised. Which is probably more a condemnation of the coffee she's usually treated to than praise of this place's efforts.

Look, anything tastes good after three years of mostly Sweetwater fare.

She follows the Celestial Being representative's fingers, making a concerted effort to listen carefully, to try to catch anything between the lines, illusions in the allusions, subterfuge in the subtexts.

The attentiveness is the very reason that her fingertips twitch at the word 'miracle', and she takes a slow breath, punctuates by a sip of coffee.

"Yes. 'Miracle' after 'Miracle.'"

She sets the mug down.

"...The misguided efforts of good men are preferable to the concerted effort of those mired in malice. Char Aznable," It's hard not to see the way she all but spits the name, or miss the fact that she refuses to use the name 'Casval', "Was neither. He was a child with a wounded ego who found it preferable to settle a score with another child by way of the near-annihilation of a planet. Unconscionable. Inexcusable." She clicks her tongue in annoyance.

She thinks for a moment, then replies, "...Yes. People can change. Change is a constant. It's the natural state of everything. Bringing the facade of order to things and pretending not to see that change? The human condition in a nutshell." She balls up her fist and settles it back against her cheek, leaning her elbow on the table. "Even he can change. But forgiveness is an entirely different thing. It, too, is human. It has to be earned. Accepted. Granted. And sometimes, we do things that close that path for ourselves. Char Aznable has done that quite effectively for himself." The corners of her lips twitch. It is not a smile.

"...That only tells me that you're capable of rational thought." A long pause, and she skirts her eyes to the side, takes up her mug with one hand, and takes a longer sip of coffee. The quiet subtext is there. 'Unlike some people.'

<Pose Tracker> Liu Mei Wang has posed.

        Liu Mei pauses and keeps herself trained dead on Anser's sentiments for each and every word, pulling herself in a little closer, resting a little more of her weight on the table, upon her elbows. There's a satisfied little noise as she can't help but reply with: "I knew even a no-nonsense person like you had a very firm passion. It's very satisfying to witness every time. I wonder - do you get to talk with others on terms like these a lot? Honestly - a lot of people I work with are very closed-off about themselves, even as their faith about the world holds firm. It's a trial just to get them to speak at all beyond what's immediately relevant to the mission."

        The smile widens, as Liu Mei's finger swirls around the rim of her wine glass. "But then, I'm not after you for primary combat operations. You're an engineer after all, and they're a friendlier bunch anyways. I think you'd get along rather well with our tactical forecaster and her team too - it's just a shame she's so exhausted and busy, but that's the burden of being one of a kind. We're good at finding those who don't think much of themselves, but are actually quite exceptional, and you're included in those parameters."

        "...Well. I say that." Liu Mei's dinner arrives, and she almost waits as though expecting Anser's to come in, before remembering nothing was ordered to begin with besides the coffee. A single cherry tomato pops in her mouth first, before a careful wiping of her lips. "Truth be told, the parameters usually don't make much sense to me. My job is to parse those logical dictates, the big data analysis it takes for a job like ours of targeting every possible conflict before it begins...and to make sure that the 'human element' works out alright. After all, I know full well that it's so easy to torpedo promising meetings of minds just due to people not getting along."

        A hearty few bites of the fish ensue, Liu Mei taking time to keep quiet and eat with utmost etiquette - she's sure to be listening carefully to everything Anser says in reply - though she does intervene, after she's halfway in, with a simple question.

        "What ways would you most like yourself to change?"

<Pose Tracker> Anser Vulpecula has posed.

There's catharsis in this.

But even catharsis is a force to be moderated. Anser lifts her head and straightens her back. Both elbows on the edge of the table. Forearms laid upon it in a show of comfort or over-familiarity. It's awful table manners, but she seems unconcerned about that particular sticking point. Liu Mei isn't her superior, or even affiliated. It frees her to act with a degree of discourtesy.

"I wouldn't categorize myself as friendly." Indeed, she certainly isn't displaying much by way of warmth in this conversation. She's been standoffish at best, and her brow is still furrowed - though with her nonthreatening features, it really does just look like a kitten trying to look fierce. Or maybe just disinterested. But the conversation hasn't hit a hard stop yet, at least. No landmines stepped upon.

"...But I'm also not as humble as you seem to be implying. I'm good at what I do. We wouldn't be talking if I weren't." Well. At least she's quite confident.

She makes a small 'Hmn' in response to the commentary about torpedoing meetings, giving little indication on how this particular one is going. Unhelpful.

The question gets a lifted brow, and she blinks a few times, taking in a breath. "Well. We're really diving into the interview questions, now." She side-eyes Liu Mei, "...Please, please don't ask me to describe what type of animal I would be or why, or ask me my greatest weakness." It's not couched in sarcasm - it's a joke. It's not funny - but it's a joke.

"The ways I'd like most are immutable. Things that are already part of me, and can't easily be separated. Formative. But those aside? If I could change any one thing about myself?" She offers a shrug of her shoulders, "...To be the sort of person that people want to know more about. To be warmer. To be able to make a difference for the better. Because I can't take back the fact that I allied myself with that monster. That I didn't leave when I could have. That I was too scared to leave until I couldn't leave." She sets her jaw, "...You've caught me in a talkative mood, Liu Mei. And believe me, this is a talkative mood."

She leans forward, "...You haven't told me much of anything, you know. Big on words. Short on details. It's like if I asked you what you wanted for dinner, and you extolled the virtues of hydroponic farming, and how the world would be improved by the yields they could offer, when I really just want to know if you want me to reheat the spaghetti or order take-out. No one gets me to lift a finger until I know what I'm fighting for, even if all I do is calculations, calibrations, welding, and a spot of impact wrenching. You're trying to poach me, so lay your cards on the table."

Her lips thin. "...Tell me what's for dinner."

<Pose Tracker> Liu Mei Wang has posed.

        For something that's 'not funny' from Anser, Liu Mei certainly gets a cheery little laugh, snickering behind her hand before waggling it dismissively. "No no no, gods, have I given off that it'd be that kind of interview? And after we went through all that trouble for the oh so mysterious and secretive welcoming message. I thought it'd be cute, you know. To invite people and give them the eeeever so subtle fear that they'll be swept up in a harsh, cold, and judgmental proof of their virtue, and then ease the tension when they realize that the warmth of this institute of ours-"

        "Is that we're people just like any other."

        Fork at her lips for a moment, Liu Mei sips down the last of her wine. It's clearly put her in a slightly more playful sort of mood, but she can still keep it together enough to address something rather vulnerable confessed to her. "...It's a little ironic. I'm having a lot of fun getting to more about you. To be truthful, I wasn't expecting such a candid answer. Mm. ...What I'm hearing in your voice is betrayal, when it comes down to it. Pledging your loyalty in the heart of a fallible man who presented like the voice of God. Hmmmm."

        It's a risk. Liu Mei knows it. She really shouldn't be divulging this information to someone not yet initiated. But...it also feels like the keystone of their operation is something that'd be a sticking point. So she sighs, and begins boldly-

        "...We've invented our own artificial God, of sorts. ...Yes. That's the center to all of this. What we take our commands from is the judgment of an all-knowing device which acts independently and logically. If a machine could observe everything, calculate everything, and go so far as to predict the future well enough - would its sheer determination towards a world no longer at war not be the logical thing to follow? We do not listen to the words of man - we listen to the words of this "God" of ours, who speaks not with passion and fervor to sway our hearts, but with cold logic and action to prove its validity to our minds."

        A light little shrug comes after the final bite of fish passes Liu Mei's lips. With one last swallow, she breathes, "It's a risk telling you that. Not just because it's delicate info...but because I think you'd get sour if we kept it secret. After all, maybe it's imperfect. Maybe our devotion to this 'all-knowing arbiter' who tells us what we must do isn't any better than the often blind conviction in one man's future."

        "...To be quite honest, I think that'd be a deal-breaker to someone with your experiences. But I'd rather lose your trust from being honest about what you'd have a problem with, rather than lose it because you knew I was hiding something. Maybe I'm wrong, though. Typically, our engineers were brought on-board rather delighted with the idea of an all-knowing machine dictating their highest order tasks. ...That was years ago, and a lot's changed since then in that regard, hasn't it?"

<Pose Tracker> Anser Vulpecula has posed.

The warmth is starting to ebb out of her mug as less coffee occupies it. Entropy at its least desirable. Coffee that's run room temperature is a friend to no one. Nonetheless, she holds it close, sapping all the warmth from it that she's able to. There's the wisp of a smile that appears when Liu Mei laughs. Not quite - but not nothing, either.

Still, her bearing is quite serious after having voiced that last call for brass tacks.

Another subtle little jerk of her fingers when Char is compared to a God, even if it's in clear mockery. It's nothing if not true. A god raining down destruction from the heavens, watching from on high and surrounding himself with his angelic harbingers. Plenty of awful parallels to be made to other Impacts on Earth. The religious angle always set her teeth on edge.

Which...

A brow sloooowly lifts when Liu Mei starts going into detail about 'God'. She mentally files away the label and focuses on the specifics.

"So... an extremely accurate predictive model? Not outside of the realm of possibility, but it does strain belief that it would be above making errors in judgment, or observational errors. There has to be a range to it, limitations to it. Nothing that is created reaches perfection, especially when there are illogical variables in play. Us. We behave in ways that go against our best interests. I'm drinking stimulants instead of sleeping. You're earnestly speaking to an engineer about an artificial god."

She spreads her fingers as if this, itself, proves her point.

She tongues at her teeth for a few moments, mulling the information over and puffing a breath. She quietly sets down her mug, pulls out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and with a spark of flint, she tucks the lit cigarette into her mouth, pocketing the accouterments. That hand stays in her pocket. The wait staff doesn't seem thrilled, but also doesn't seem to be in a mood to accost the only patrons. A thin little plume of smoke lifts as Anser breathes out.

"...There's no maybe, Liu Mei. Grappling with imperfection is what I do. There's always incremental changes that can be made. Improvements. And if there are improvements that can be made, by definition there are inefficiencies. Logic errors. Mechanical errors. Structural issues. Thermal issues. Targeting issues. Code issues. Infrastructural issues. Can an artificial God survive a week's blackout?"

Her eyelids lower a touch, and she takes another drag on her cigarette.

"I'm fascinated. Don't get me wrong. But I think you've made the correct assessment. This would have soured me. It does sour me. I hope you don't feel as though your honesty was a mistake - to the contrary, it saved you time down the road. No one likes rehiring."

A smoky breath.

"...So. If you're people like any other, and all. Am I walking out of here? Because in spite of my curiosity, I have to decline."

<Pose Tracker> Liu Mei Wang has posed.

        ---Liu Mei forces herself to hold back the sense of repulsion she has from smoking. After all, she is someone who keeps her own health quite diligently and vigorously, with the best personal trainers on the planet.

        -She fails. Holding her breath for too long leads for her to cough and frantically wave away Anser's expelled smoke, clutching her nose. "G-gaaah...gah. Huuu..." Shaking her head vigorously, twintails tousling about, the heiress pushes herself further back at once - the struggle with secondhand smoke sort of just sealing the deal on the failure to close the deal.

        "...nnn- you don't have to emphasize that things got sour like this! I mean, ugh. If I'm right in my appraisal, then I'm right and that's why we don't hire unconditionally, s-so, yes, that's all I have for y-"

        ...In this horribly compromised state where for the first time Liu Mei seems like actually a totally normal person and not an elegant superbly composed ultra-elite, the Observer, standing bolt upright with a squeak of her chair, one eye squinted closed, tries to regain her posture and look Anser more in the eye.

        -And now that she doesn't 'need' Anser anymore, she goes from objectives to fulfill, to the plain sight of someone with a weathered but fierce look in her eyes, swirling with smoke, dressed a little too shabbily, but somehow owning it with ruggedness.

        At a glance, the look in Liu Mei's eyes may look like she's almost repulsed - both hands flying up over her mouth, uneasy and unsteady. There's a stature like she'd run away utterly inelegantly. There's an impulse in her to flee from Anser, not because she's repulsed, but because - - - she's behaving so unseemly, when with this type of person, she has to have the upper-

        Tense and coiling and a horrible tangled traffic accident of impulses, it takes Liu Mei all of her elite poise to uncover her mouth, take a deep breath (after turning her head away) - only to pull out a small phone from her bag, pushing it down on the table and sliding it to Anser's half. "...burner phone. For you. It's just what I use for personal contacts who - don't want to be tracked or burdened. Since apparently I'm easy to talk to for y-"

        The confluence of difficulty with smoke and coiled embarassment forces Liu Mei to suddenly march her way off from the table, headed straight for the cafe's exit - from the sidelines, utterly un-noticed, a taller, plainly dressed man suddenly approaches with a concerned "my lady?!" (sneaky bodyguard!) - only to be met with a firm hand pushing him away from concern.

        Pivoting on one heel, Liu Mei gasps, "Everything here's on my tab so use it and seriously get something good to eat! The tickets had hotel fare too, so use that too!", before finally turning around to march herself out-

        Nope! She's turning around again, eyes closed, with a last "A-and seriously, the phone! Use that too!"

        And now she makes her utterly disastrous and unladylike exit.

<Pose Tracker> Anser Vulpecula has posed.

It is the slowest death - the death of public embarrassment, as Anser's brows not so subtly lift throughout the coughing and breath-holding and choking and revulsion, managing to keep the same placid expression on her face. It would somehow be better if she laughed, but she's not. She's keeping poised.

It is terrible.

She lowers the hand from her cigarette and places it on the phone that's slid her way, picking it up briefly and turning it one way and then another. There's a nearly zero percent chance that she doesn't take it apart later before restoring it to factory.

The hand under the table that's been settled just outside of her pocket finally relaxes. She smooths the seam of her skirt, and simply watches Liu Mei self destruct for no other reason than it's... deeply funny. Like... deeply.

It's only when Liu Mei turns for that last time that Anser lifts a hand and gently waves it, murmuring around the cigarette, "...Pleasure meeting you."

When she's alone, she quietly reaches out and drops her cigarette into the cup of coffee.

"...Hey, Waiter? The courgette and red trout. And another coffee. And a croissant. Wait. How many can you fit in a to-go box?"

The bill is large.