2024-03-30: Dawn of Fold
- Log: Dawn of Fold
- Cast: Yuliana Kafim, Elisa Kafim, C.C., Sympatria Units One, Two, and Eight, Milly Ashford, Angelo Sauper, Emilia Eschonbach, Liam 7-020 NPCing Invictus, Nika Nanaura, Sally Po, Mafty, Naji Geor Hija
- Where: Marrakesh, Union of North African States
- Date: 2024-03-30 (ICly January 0099)
- Summary: The enigmatic Prince calls together a meeting of the heads of various terrorist factions, brought low by the movement of the world, to bring them all together with a new vision: the Dawn of Fold.
</poem>
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
OST: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wYZu6Z0hgqM Takashi Ohmama - The Dawn of Fold
The carnage at Industrial 7 plays out, across the screen, as the Psychojammer engages. A dark finger presses 'pause' on the recording; a dark hand places it down, beside a vase, beside a rose.
"I've decided," he says, and it could only be a HE with such a smooth, inviting tone. "Call the ringleaders. Nika, can you do it?"
"Yes," a blue-haired girl behind him replies.
Don't look at his face.
~*~
The leadership of the Sleeves aren't the only ones contacted, in the days to come. Angelo receives a message delivered through five layers of courier ending in one of his men, through a route known to his people. Sally Po receives a hail from a civilian vessel; Zero finds a video message playing for him when his vast intellect solves a strange puzzle. Elisa Kafim receives a letter thumbed with blood; Naji Geor Hija's is signed far more sensibly. On and on it goes, each message, in small or large ways, personalised to the receiver.
None identify the sender -- or even if there is only one sender. Each and all of them come from 'A Friend', speaking on behalf of 'The Prince'. It is a message of friendship, and it indicates a neutral location. It asks them to send their leaders to speak with them, for they've seen the shambles which the Earth Sphere has left them in, and it's in both of their best interests to help each other.
... of course, it's fishy. But Marrakesh, in North Africa, isn't exactly a seat of NUNE's power. And so, for anyone who elects to attend --
-- each letter specified a different entrance, to avoid any of the guests running into each other before they entered the central meeting-hall, and to avoid things looking... suspicious, from the outside. The building is of course unassuming from the outside, sand-blasted brickwork without signage. Their directions lead them to a central room, with a circular table set up with precisely as many chairs as they've planned for.
A teenager stands there, beside that vast table. She has short and curved hair, dark blue on its top and lighter blue below, matching the bright blue of her eyes. She wears nondescript, dark clothing. If she is nervous -- and she is nervous, for those who have the capacity to be sure -- she doesn't show it.
Naji, at least, looks kindly on her as he enters. He is a vast man, dark-skinned and bearded, and he is plainly obvious even when he sits. He's not the only broad dark person here, though -- because when Elisa Kafim enters with her wife, Yuliana Kafim is a woman who well and truly takes up a seat of her own, beside her, even before one gets to the tentacles. (Her hair, at least, is teal, rather than Naji's dark brown, so it's more plainly eye-catching... even if his pink shirt is more obvious than the Kafims' black robes.)
One may note that the Kafims are seated opposite the likes of Angelo, to avoid... unpleasant arguments with regards to Yuliana's silencing aura.
When they sit, the girl sits, too.
"Thank you for coming," she says. "The Prince isn't able to speak with you directly... that's why he sent me." A light pause, "I'm one of you. But my position will be compromised if I act directly, so I can only offer you information."
"And this Prince," Naji says, "wanted to gather... everyone here?" He's cautious about Spacenoids in the conversation, of course -- but he's also a pragmatist, and he understands the needs of people. He'd have to be blind not to recognise that poor Spacenoids have more in common with his people than the Spacians of the Orbital Ring.
"You've been protecting everyone here -- we know," the blue-haired girl says, generalising it at the last moment. "But your group is too small to be anything but reactive, Mr. Hija. It's the same with Ms. Po," she looks to Sally, "or Mr. Sauper, or Mrs. Kafim, or Mr. Zero... right now, you're not able to exert a lot of pressure, are you? Any of you. That's why the Prince would like you to consider working together."
"Working together!" Yuliana exclaims, as she scowls across the way at the likes of Angelo and Mafty and, strangely enough, Zero. Who knew that Zero was a Newtype? Yuliana knows that Zero is a Newtype. Just look at the hollow space around him! ... which only she can see. "You expect us to find common ground with these -- these people?"
"You have more in common than you have differences," the girl points out, mildly, as if echoing someone else's talking points. (She is echoing someone else's talking points.) "Though we recognise that there are many differences... we are all bearing the weight of NUNE and their corporate overlords in the Orbital Ring. Right now, you have to hide... but if we came together, the Earth Sphere would realise our collective power."
"So you're saying we're stronger united," Naji says, folding his arms. "Huhn... it's not like you're wrong."
But surely those two examples of ambivalence and cautious openness aren't the only responses.
<Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
A letter thumbed with blood. Elisa read it, and informed her wife that they had been Invited somewhere. Of course they would go, though there was some suspicion of a trap. ...Elisa would spring it herself, in that case.
To help one another... Yes, it was worth pursuing. Yuliana had wanted her to make 'friends'.
So friends Elisa will make.
-=-=-
Elisa Kafim strides into the central meeting-hall boldly, in thick black robes and the highest of heels. Her head is held high; she will sit with her wife. She looks to the teenager, and smiles to her. And then, that vast man...
Hmmm.
"...I think we should consider it," Elisa says, looking to Yuliana--only Yuliana, for a moment--before she sweeps her gaze out over the others as well.
"I am capable of keeping what is mine safe," she says, because it is important to make clear her strength. "...But with allies, we could project force more effectively--do more than react to NUNE's dogs."
"I am willing to set aside my preconceptions. ...provided that others can do the same."
<Pose Tracker> C.C. has posed.
The dawning star of Zero's miracles had long since faded.
Ever since the tragedy of the Massacre Princess last year, the scales of revolution toppled, and the waltz moved to its next step. Paradoxically, the dilemma that made Britannia's occupation look all the more heinous only worsened conditions in Area 11 - and Britannia's boot pushing down further only served to stamp out the Black Knights.
Several of their key members had been caught and imprisoned. Strongholds and hideouts dwindled to nothing. And as for Zero himself...
The man who had performed those miracles was missing. Lelouch and Nunnally, pulled into the Emperor's clutches. With how much Zero was the anchoring symbol raising their banner, his disappearancce should've spelled the end.
...But instead...
...The paramour luring at Zero's side, the one who'd taken up his mask and his face, couldn't help but sweat at the puzzle that arrived at her desk. C.C., irrationally carrying on his legacy where she ought to have run away, spent a little longer than she'd like to admit untangling that contraption. But she knew it was important. It may even be her salvation - strange objects sent at trying times tend to be, in her lifetime.
...When she arrives at the meeting point in Marrakesh, pre-dressed in Zero's dramatic cape but otherwise just...sitting in the back of an armored car, C.C. believes she's already made her decision. She's holding onto the Black Knights for someone else's sake - it wouldn't do for it to wither away. Besides, this 'Prince' figure piques her interest. He may well be the more fascinating puzzle to solve at this stop on the road.
When she reaches the table, however, her resolve immediately wavers. There is a noticeable pause in "Zero's" step before taking a seat, as the witch's vast paranormal senses collide with the darkness of the Void. Even this far away, C.C. can feel it - and, were it not for the mask cloaking her features, she'd leave quite a poor impression being this green in the face.
Thank the heavens voice changers were already expected for Zero.
"The logistical problems resistances have faced in recent months are well known," Zero interjects cordially. "Despite the chaos gripping the earth, and despite the steps everyone here had taken to change fate amidst that turmoil..."
...She stops, microphone clicked off, and catches a breath under her helmet. Holding back the nausea from that nearby sphere of deafening darkness. C.C. had heard of this effect, through rumor, but...
Experiencing it for herself - she's having to force her senses to turn back on just to see the opposite half of the table, that's how much she's relied on those extended senses.
"...All of us here have wound up on the outside of the new order," Zero continues. "Indeed, it becomes borderline impossible to communicate with the Benerit Group's oversight of the Orbital Ring, and the constant threat of the Gaia Sabers expanding their reach. It'd be immature not to expect unfitting bedfellows when we're all those who were cast aside."
It sounds so much like Zero's fully game for it! It sounds oh so much like the Black Knights are 100% on board.
"However - naturally, I would notice the Prince being absent from our meeting personally. As someone who has been careful not to let the 'idea' of a leader eclipse the 'person', I would like your assurance that this "Prince" is not some hazy aspiration of an ideal we'll be later ambushed by, and is indeed simply a person showing diligence and caution."
<Pose Tracker> Sympatria Unit has posed.
One of the assembled groups is a cluster of three people. They are wearing the kind of cloaks you wear in the desert to keep the sun off of you: thin, reflective-gray on the outside, with some elastic on the inside to keep sand from blowing down your front so much. They all have their hoods back.
They look like siblings. One of them, six feet tall, is sitting quietly, his hands under the serape-wrap. Another, 5'7", is sitting with her legs crossed, stretching back a little in her chair, jiggling a foot in a military-surplus combat boot slightly larger than you'd expect. In front, 5'5", is one in a more polite posture, who seems to be the delegation leader, because she's looking directly at Naji, at the blue-haired girl.
The one in the front says: "It's elementary game theory, here, that you'd have to put something on the table. I'm inclined to trust this Prince, since the possibility of success outweighs most of my reservations."
"Not all, though," says the guy in the back. (The foot-jiggler jiggles her foot a little harder.) "But the best defense is a good offense."
The one in the front rocks her head to the side, brings it back up to true. "It's true. At the barest possible minimum, all of your groups would have information sharing -- which sharply reduces the asymmetry, with respect to the NUNE confederated forces."
"So they can't just gear up and start killing everyone a piece at a time," volunteers Ms. Foot Jiggler.
<Pose Tracker> Milly Ashford has posed.
Milly's invitation is among the first to find its recipient -- due to convenience, of course; she's been in the orbit of a certain individual for over a year now, dealing with a negotiation designed to get her out of certain familial obligations. (The personalization of her invitation is inextricably bound up with that negotiation.)
Milly's never been to Marrakesh, and is pleasantly surprised to have the chance to visit -- even if it's under somewhat... unique, circumstances.
As she settles in, she takes stock of who's been invited. Some of these names and faces are quite new to her. Others, of course, are quite familiar... and Milly's feelings are mixed. Yuliana's been quite good to her personally, of course, and her experience in Tsutsujidai in early 0097 gave her an appreciation for Zero... but at the same time, there are some unresolved issues in both cases.
"I certainly won't say no to this kind of help," is all Milly has to say. Certainly her ultimate hope -- to change Britannia -- can't be accomplished without borrowing this sort of power.
<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.
B e f o r e
Angelo Sauper sits in the sterile white room of a private medical bay when the message arrives for him. It isn't the first time he's been here today; it has become a frequent stop during his day-to-day ever since the events at Industrial 7.
Even as things became increasingly busy - even as he found his whole world changing - even as he found a whole new purpose thanks to one smiling bureaucrat's offer...
He always makes time to be here, in this room. Every day.
Usually, his only companionship comes in the form of the steady beep of monitoring equipment. Today, though...
He doesn't so much as look Bato's way as the redheaded man delivers him the message at the end of a daisy chain no one save his own people should know exists. His purple-eyed attention is on the blond man laid out on the bed next to his seat, months upon months of inactivity taking its toll on his once regal silhouette. He knows the implication of the message. It's the textual equivalent of someone condescendingly adjusting your tie, to him. A petty power move reserved for the people with the influence to get away with flippantly employing them. It communicates a single idea:
I know where you are; I know YOU.
Angelo Sauper frowns. Purple eyes shut. It's happening just like -he- said it would.
Colonel. ... Would you have done this...?
The ambivalence of Angelo's expression obfuscates the steel of his opening stare as he dismisses Bato with a single sentence:
"Tell them we'll be there."
After all... there's no place for second guessing. Not anymore.
-+-
Appearances matter.
The Sleeves were shattered with the defeat of Full Frontal, their vestiges strewn to the cold of space to fend for themselves. But you wouldn't know it to look at Angelo Sauper and his retinue as they enter. Dressed in imposing, imperial regalia that one might expect from those still trapped in the Zeonic spectre, they look as if not even a single day's difference has passed since the Sleeves were at their (dubious) peak.
Yet one need only look at the pale, white-haired young man taking point today to know how different things -truly- are: Angelo Sauper, perpetually placing himself on the fringes of leadership, now takes center stage as he approaches the center table of an unfamiliar room.
His former peers in the Royal Guard now flank -him-, and his new companion joining him this day. He isn't used to it.
He is sure he does not deserve it.
But he pulls off the look that he does with cold aplomb as a single, glove-handed gesture leaves his pair of would-be bodyguards assigned to both him and the one coming in with him waiting just beyond the central chamber for them. He doesn't even so much as bat an eye settles in to his precise place at the table.
Instead... instead, he takes a long sweep of those gathered. Some he recognizes, whether personally or through reports. Some he does not.
That he recognizes Elisa and Yuliana is obvious from the way he does not bother to hide the disgusted scowl as his purple stare settles on the pair.
He listens, silently. He doesn't offer any objection as Naji speaks; he just scoffs in acerbic amusement, like someone indulging in a private, scornful joke.
No; first and foremost, his gaze settles thoughtfully on the girl with two-toned hair offering her preposterous proposal on behalf of someone else.
"You expect us to believe we're setting aside our differences and, even worse, working together with," a disgusted swivel of one gloved hand indicates Yuliana -- here, "lunatic cultist filth for some greater good?" One can practically feel the way Angelo's tone curdles like spoiled milk. "-Please-." Violet eyes narrow on the blue-haired girl settled across the way from him.
"Forgive me for having a hard time trusting the generous spirit of someone who chooses to communicate through -mouth pieces-. So what does your so-called 'Prince' get out of bringing together this little island of misfit toys?"
<Pose Tracker> Emilia Eschonbach has posed.
It was a surprise for Sally Po to have received a message like this- ever since the Hua Lian fell, she had been forced to flee Da Han Zhong and eventually the REA entirely. In that time, she had heard nothing of those five young pilots of Operation Meteor- but sopmeone had been able to find her. It's extremely suspicious-
But she was intrigued all the same. Sitting on her hands didn't seem right, as the Earth Sphere changed. So, she arrived with a pair of rebels from what remained of the Hua Lian, making her way through the precribed entrance- leaving her rebels at the entrance. They can pursue in case things go wrong- but the invitation is for her.
And into a room of unlikely fellows to meet. Some are obvious to identify- the Kafims, for instance. Angelo Sauper of the Sleeves. Zero of the Black Knights. Others are unknown to her- especially the girl acting as the Prince's proxy.
"...I take it this Prince prefers to do his work from the shadows, then." Sally responds, as she sits. As Yuliana erupts, Sally crosses her arms. They were both citizens of the REA, once- both soldiers, if in different countries. Major Po had known the reputation of Captain Dispersal- and the lengths the REA went to kill her after she had gone rogue. "...The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as they say." Sally says after Naji's comment. "I'm not prepared to say we're so close, but he's right. We've all had our noses bloodied recently, and if we keep fighting alone against a united front, then we've got less of a chance against NUNE."
Her eyes turn to the girl. "...What I want to know is what this Prince of yours gets out of bringing us together?"
----
'Don't show your face in Japan again.'
That was the message Emilia received after Leina had put out her message to the Black Knights dead drops. It had been a shock- and a source of distress. She had fallen into a funk- but it was easy to hide that as her usual Christmas related trauma. She tried to put it out of her mind- in January she had started school on Magallanica, mostly getting used to people around.
And at school, she met some friends. And those friends led to her meeting some important figures. Those important figures led to her meeting someone else.
And that meeting led to here.
Emilia Eschonbach did not get an invitation to this meeting directly- she was a plus one. She follows Angelo into the room- she's wearing a long black skirt- to hide the leg brace that helps her walk in the more intense gravity of Earth. If she weren't still undergoing rehabilitation, it wouldn't be a problem. Unfortunately, she is. Her shirt is dark green, a colour reminiscent of the Zeon uniform of old but nowhere near as tailored, with a zipper instead of buttons. Her long lavender hair is pulled back into a long, slightly wavy ponytail, the bangs of her hime cut being all that isn't pulled in. And most notably, a black eyepatch covers her left eye.
The eye that's still there scans the room. Mostly strangers- but two people stand out. Her eye narrows into a glare when she sees Zero- and widens large when she sees Milly. Why is she here...? Has being Coup de Foudre led her into this side of life?
Nonetheless, she doesn't speak up, even as Yuliana declares her and Angelo 'these people'. Her fist tightens nonetheless, and she suppresses a glare, her eye closing momentarily.
But at the moment, Angelo is her commanding officer. It's his call how things go.
<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.
The Prince's messages took many forms. A week ago, cybersecurity at a Britannian solar plant caught a clumsy intrusion into their systems. A day later, another incident at another plant. The clumsiest form of sabotage, seemingly, but enough to get someone's attention.
The actual message came in the form of an encrypted tablet that changed hands a dozen times as it made its way from courier to courier to servant to a certain hall of power. The invitation was as much a signal to debut--to stop hiding--as it was a date and time and address and coordinates.
One of the last folk to arrive at the table is one of the most... grandiose. They definitely seem to be in the same camp as Zero, with a costume designed to obscure their form: a white-and-gold cloak with enough antiscan weave to hide the form beneath, and a golden full-face mask, stylized in the form of a brilliant sunburst. Holographic prominences lick at the edges. Dark sunspots swirl where the eyes should be; everything around the jawline is covered by a solid face of gold.
The dark sunspots trace their way, dispassionately, across the gathered dissident leaders. The golden plane hiding the mouth curls, slightly, as Angelo voices his discontent, but he takes his seat and turns to Naji and his young assistant. "I, Invictus, am intrigued by the possibilities your Prince presents." The voice is masculine, but modulated. There's a hint of skepticism, though, on the word 'Prince'.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
Of course, Yuliana trusts her wife to keep them safe. And she does want Elisa to make friends... and she's worried about not having enough, herself. She's been preoccupied with it ever since Celestial Being fell from the heavens...
Yuliana does not wear heels like her wife, and that means that Elisa seems much taller than her than she is. She is round where Elisa is long, apparently. And when Elisa suggests they consider it, Yuliana sighs, smiling to her wife, when Elisa suggests they consider it. "You're right, of course, zhenushka... the company just surprised me." (And anyone familiar with the languages of Zaftra might recognise that as a particularly fond way to address one's wife. Check the wedding bands! They're adorned with emeralds and diamonds and onyx.)
"You're somewhat surprising yourself, Mrs... Kafim?" Naji asks confirmation, putting a name to an internationally-wanted figure, gesturing to a snakelike tentacle currently regarding him with its eyeless gaze. Angelo states it more bluntly: lunatic cultist filth.
"Why, you--!!" Yuliana barks, as she slams a hand on the table, her other gesturing sharply at Angelo. Those snakes lift to rattle their crests at him, clearly as aggrieved as their mistress. "You Zeonic wretch! Watch your mouth, or this Prince will get to see me RIP YOU APART--"
Conveniently, Elisa is still sitting right next to Yuliana, and her wife manages to keep her in her seat. With a glance to Milly -- Yuliana would be terribly embarrassed to lose her cool and rip a man's head off in front of such a promising young woman -- Yuliana settles back down.
(She glances to Sally, as well; of course she recognises the Major, though she never worked under her directly.)
"Hm," Naji frowns. "You know, as -- I suppose you're Dr. Kafim, then," a glance to Elisa -- "says, if we want to work together, we'd better put aside our preconceptions. I'm sure we've all done what we have to do for the sake of our people, here. And Ms. Po isn't wrong about the enemy of my enemy, you know." He's speaking up to support that blue-haired girl, though it might not be immediately obvious.
"That's right," the blue-haired girl says. She's -- well, she looks calm. She's good at looking calm; she's a survivor. "And I'd ask you all to refrain from fighting each other while we're meeting here... and to avoid provoking each other deliberately," she adds, with a significant look to Yuliana specifically. She did see how this started. "I know you're all very different, but Ms. Two is correct." The woman jiggling her foot in that group of three, that is. "Isolated, NUNE will pick you off, one by one."
The blue-haired girl goes on: "The Prince wishes for justice in this world -- for the people forgotten by the riches of the Ringers. Each of you, in your own way, have fought for the downtrodden. Whether you were defending the poor in space," she looks to Angelo and to the trio of Numbers, "or on Earth," she looks to Naji, Zero, Mafty, Yuliana and Elisa, and Sally, "or whether you have the potential to be a greater force for good," here, she looks to Milly and Invictus and Emilia, "the Prince has seen what you could be, together. Because you are all strong... and you are all willing to go further than others to reach that strength."
The blue-haired girl pauses, looking between everyone. "The Prince is a real person," she adds, her gaze coming to rest on Zero. "But I hope that you in particular can appreciate why someone might prefer to communicate through a go-between, Zero. Because what the Prince can offer you in return for the strength of your peoples is funding, resources, and support to communicate with each other... he wouldn't be able to offer nearly as much if he unmasked himself. I understand this is an unusual situation... so I'm asking for your understanding, too."
<Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
"Shh, my darling." Elisa places a hand on Yuliana's hand, her fingertips coolly tracing her wife's skin. She lifts her voice to Angelo, "The unimportant murmurings of the ignorant." She soothes Yuliana, stroking down her arm then, and says, "It is fine. We need not enjoy the company of those who would not have us. But whether he and his join us or not, I am intrigued by these prospects."
A pause. "If you have no interest in what is being shared, you are not required to stay. Leave those of us inclined to act boldly to listen."
She smiles, then. Elisa continues to have the appropriate number of teeth. "As she says. Offense is preferable to fruitless waiting."
She looks at Naji, next. "I am," she says, Dr. Kafim. She continues to stroke her wife's hand.
"No one will be ripping each other apart today. I am confident that while others can avoid insulting my wife, that her admirable passion will not get the best of her."
But... Hmmm.
"It is true that we value the protection of those who cannot defend themselves," Elisa says, including herself in Yuliana's hopes this time. "...I do not object to one who must remain hidden. I understand the need for such myself."
She smiles at the man in the mask, Invictus. "It is natural, to conceal until one is ready."
"I will put my name forward, as one willing to work for greater harmony. The Kafims will not shy from opportunity."
<Pose Tracker> C.C. has posed.
Of course it wouldn't be so easy to get misfit revolutionaries on the same page. C.C.'s seen these types time and time again. Coalitions failing because disparate interests couldn't put their own pride ahead of the harsh truth - that their power was waning and fading?
"Angelo Sauper," Zero says, unable to contain that insight. "Ideology is wind without agency. Given that our enemies would love nothing more than to snuff out the legacy of the man you followed, that the Sleeves remain a pariah among pariahs - you should consider your next steps somewhat more carefully. Or is the future you seek so unimportant that your personal pride takes precedence? That you'd sacrifice everything you've fought for simply because it's distasteful to associate with someone?"
"This is a test of your resolve. Everyone in your position has faced this dilemma before." Of course, when Yuliana threatens to lunge at Angelo, who's sitting fairly near to C.C. - the witch's restraint falters. Zero flinches and pulls back. Since when has Zero flinched? Even when the threat of violence diminishes...
Zero's mask is unmoving - C.C.'s head refrains from craning over to familiar faces...but Emilia and Milly likely get a sense that Zero is looking at them. Side-eyeing them even without eyes visible through the mask. "It's a shock that even in these circumstances, familiar faces still crop up, even if in unexpected ways," Zero says, not identifying who exactly is being addressed. "Much as amends and re-understandings would be at hand, this is not the day."
...because C.C. didn't expect them to be here - and thus, they are anomalies not accountable in the script she's partly reading from, flashing over the inner screen of Zero's helmet.
"Unfamiliar ones, however, will take more understanding." Zero's helmet DOES turn to 'Invictus', the invisible gazes of masks colliding. "You cut a dramatic figure to be sure, Invictus. But it immediately begs the question of who, exactly, you are - and what acts you have achieved. The Silent Calling and the Sleeves have known reputations, and I have not refrained from making myself Britannia's most wanted criminal. The appearance of an unknown mask is poor practice to an audience, as I'm sure you're aware."
The three odd cloaked figures are next. "Information sharing agreements are a known virtue, much as they represent risks in their own right. You three, however - while identities and names are natural to conceal, spheres of interest are of import. Since the Black Knights have attempted outreach for many years, it'd be useful to know if you're agents of a group we can trust. Mr. Naji's presence is a comfort, for example - I've been aware of his exploits in the area for some time, and can know that he's here for similar reasons as our movement to liberate Japan."
Back to the Prince's blue-haired aide, Zero's arms cross just a little tighter beneath the cloak. "So the Prince lives up to his name, in that he holds a knowable position with a lot riding on the line outside of this task. His identity not merely inconvenient to his self-interest, but for his very capacity to organize this movement." That's where he differs from Lelouch, C.C. can intuit - while his existence as a prince of Britannia was perilous and made him less trustworthy to the Japanese...he ultimately did not rely on that position for any element of his power. This Prince, then - a knowable power broker. Useful thoughts for later.
<Pose Tracker> Sympatria Unit has posed.
The black-haired squadlet looks around at others. Ms Footjiggle and the one in the front both look at Angelo. The one in front looks vaguely disapproving. Ms. Footjiggle cracks a grin.
The others seem aloof from the tension here. Maybe they're new, or disciplined, or on combat tranquilizers. Some combination of them.
Foot-Jiggler grins as she is named Miss Two. At this point, the tall guy turns slightly, to tell Zero, in a tone of confidence, "I'm Sympatria Number One, sir, and I hope we won't cause you any difficulties. I've admired your work."
The three of them are given the honor of space. All of them, even Two, straighten up at this. There seems to be a response coming. ("Eight, you say it," says Two to the as yet undesignated member of the group.)
Sympatria Number Eight clears her throat with a faintly synthetic sound. "The Earth Sphere is the center of humanity," she says, "and what happens here shapes everything else. If humanity is going to be free of anybody it will have to happen here, or it's just going to be a rough patch for the core to grind out, later."
Number Eight looks at Zero, then. "We represent interests from outside of the immediate Earth Sphere, aligned with altering the relative dispossession of the inhabitants of Earth itself," she states. "These interests must remain discreet at this time. If necessary, I'm confident our host can confirm our bona fides with the Prince."
"I totally get why you're suspicious," Two says, shrugging one shoulder, "but we're breaking like six different laws just being here and I can prove it to you." This makes One laugh, if in a 'ha ha, is that a joke? was I supposed to do that?' sort of way.
<Pose Tracker> Milly Ashford has posed.
When Milly sees Emilia... intellectually, she's not surprised. She'd seen Zero first -- and, of course, she knows what sort of life Emilia leads. Still, what is a surprise is the eyepatch; her expression softens with concern just a little bit.
She doesn't have much time to sit in that feeling, though, as Yuliana starts snarling at Angelo. She's visibly taken aback; while she knew Yuliana was a little on the sketchy side, this is a side of Yuliana she hasn't seen before -- and it worries her to see it here, in a place where they're supposed to be cooperating. Elisa calms her, and Milly gets just a little more insight into the Kafims than she'd had previously. When Yuliana looks to her, Milly gives her a small nod.
Despite having done a couple of things with Julia, Milly herself is... not confident in this space. Despite how she usually presents herself, she is nervous, and that nervousness makes her quiet -- and observant. (The fact that she's also one of very few primarily 'solo acts' here isn't lost on her either. It's such a different situation from what she allowed herself to become accustomed to at Ashford -- she has no weight to throw around.)
Nodding to Zero as she feels the distinct sense of being looked at, Milly does say, "I think the Prince's vetting is enough, but I can understand why you'd want something more from some of these people..." When Two cracks about breaking laws just to be here, Milly adds, "Only six?"
<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.
Invictus watches the altercation between Angelo and Yuliana as it comes to its conclusion. For a moment, the shining mask turns to Elisa, and nods, once--a gesture of respect to someone Angelo just called a 'lunatic'. But he saw how she swayed and comforted her wife simultaneously, while keeping her poise intact. It's not an easy feat.
Zero looks at him. Zero's talking to him. Invictus feels a bead of sweat trickling down his brow, invisible. "It is," the man says, offering another nod to Zero. "But let's say the Prince and I have reasons for keeping hidden until the time is right." (He doesn't know the Prince's reasons. He's guessing. Is the Prince even real? He sure doesn't know.)
"As for myself, while I am a newcomer, I want the same thing you do--the destruction of the old, tyrannical order, and the fall of those who would chain humankind's potential." Invictus glances to the three who go by other numbers, over there. Curious.
<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.
Angelo's attention is firmly on their blue-haired hostess. It's only then that the muffled words of a much more familiar, much more masked figure draws Angelo's attention. He affixes his stare on that featureless black mask as Zero addresses him. It's a stare that grows increasingly baleful by subtle degrees the more that Zero goes on, until a corner of his lip upturns in the barest beginning of a scowl.
Before, the idea of this man - this MASKED man - trying to lecture -him- about pride would have boiled his blood to a fever pitch. Would have stoked him into inconsolable anger. He very well may have taken physical action. Now?
"... Tt."
Now, he reins it in. Lets it coil around his heart like a serpent restraining from the strike. He prepares to respond--
Why, you--!!
Angelo feels the tiniest tremors against the pads of his gloved fingers as Yuliana's fevered fist crashes against the tabletop. What meets her fury is a colder anger in the -glare- the would-be Zeonic wretch affixes on her. He doesn't flinch. He just stares as if a stare could so cleanly communicate one single cogent fact:
'You disgust me.'
His body tenses in just-barely perceptible preparation...
... only for Elisa to still Yuliana with words. Angelo pauses. He considers her for a moment, as she offers roundabout insults. His expression flattens back towards that carefully controlled neutrality.
"Oh," he begins, voice level. "It's not a murmur."
Angelo settles backward into his seat. Arms folding over his chest, his violet gaze drifts towards Emilia in time to notice her reaction to... someone here. That piercing stare tracks hers, back towards Milly. A second passes. Angelo says nothing; he just passes a single look Emilia's way that, once more, communicates what words do not:
'Focus.'
"Unlike some here," he begins slowly, "I don't believe in blindly trusting an invisible man. If he can provide us tangible proof of what he's offering..."
Angelo Sauper considers the gathered. The ones he knows to loathe in Elisa and Yuliana Kafim. The ones he knows not to trust -- the ones wearing masks to hide something, like Zero and Invictus. Those who have historically never cared about the fate of space one way or another...
But it's the ones he doesn't recognize at all that put him most on edge. Like the squad of unknowns claiming to be here from outside the Earthsphere, for Earth's benefit.
Purple eyes narrow.
No; he doesn't trust any of these people.
"... then why not?"
Gloved palms spread.
"If he can provide that much, the Sleeves are willing to contribute to a common cause. We're -all- coming from a common ground of failure, after all."
He doesn't trust any of them.
"And -someone- here should be willing to speak for space."
But he came into this already knowing what altar he was going to sacrifice his pride on.
<Pose Tracker> Emilia Eschonbach has posed.
Sally's eyes are on Yuliana as she starts to launch into rage at Angelo's biting words. It seems the alliance is already being formed on... volatile ground. If Elisa hadn't stepped in, she's saw this would have come to more than just blows.
With the immediate concern over, Sally focuses on Naji as he supports her point, then the girl. "...You're right. I can't speak for all of the Hua Lian remnants- but I'd rather be in this fight with allies than on my own." Even if some of those allies might be people of concern. It's a necessity of survival. Standing alone is death against a newly united government.
"...Information sharing will only get us so far. Under our current circumstances, we need to work together, not just point each other in the right direction." She does frown at the Symmpatrias. "...Mars? JEF?" It raises new concerns, but she also isn't sure she can expect an answer.
Instead, it's Angelo who can feel Sally Po's gaze next, assessing him. "...You're right. Someone here should. I suppose it's going to be you." She uncrosses her arms and leans forward. "Which makes me ask... does the Prince have a first target in mind?" She waits to hear his response- and if not, well... She can speak up.
----
Milly's look of concern catches Emilia's eyes. She looks away for a moment before looking back and mouthing what might be 'After'. She wants, desperately, to talk with Milly again- but right here isn't the time.
As Yuliana prepares to launch at Angelo, Emilia has to focus not to flinch. She can't show weakness here, in front of all these figures. In front of Zero. Not even in front of Milly while she's in this room. Similarly... it's not her fight- and it's absolutely not one she'd win. Even as Yuliana spits on her family's legacy, she stays silent, her hand balling into a fist.
But she can see the shift in Zero's mask. She can feel his eyes upon her, and Emilia glares back with her good eye. Awfully present for someone who was captured by Britannia. That's... noticeable. There's a disdain in her eye.
When Angelo's eyes fall on her, she seems to understand, nodding in acknowledgement. She closes her eye for a moment takes a breath, and looks back out at the table. In this field, much as he is in piloting, Angelo knows better than she does. And she can't prove herself if she can't handle this. But she's still quiet.
Perhaps for the fear that speaking as she normally does would be another show of weakness. But for now, she stays silent.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
If there's one thing which can soothe Yuliana down from a rage spiral, it's the feeling of her wife's cool fingertips. Tenderly, and far more calmly, she smiles to her. "All right..." Yuliana's hand can't rip anything out of anyone when it's busy being stroked by her wife. Perhaps Angelo is safe... for now.
(God forbid she ever meet him without her wife beside her.)
Of course Yuliana is still furious at Angelo -- and of course she notices the glances he shares with Emilia, and her attention falls on her for an awful second, before it passes -- but for the sake of peace and cooperation, she is tolerant. She even lets him say it's not a murmur without leaping across the table. How considerate!
"Invictus is a man who has run out of options," the blue-haired girl explains to Zero, calmly. "We believe this will inspire him to lend his resources to our cause... as he says, he's lost faith in the old order. As for the Sympatrias, we recognise that their covert unit isn't widely-known -- but given the nature of their work, this obscurity is proof of their talent. I think the methods we used to contact you all should be sufficient proof that the Prince has done his research on your works and potential. Any gathering like this will involve some risk -- and some trust -- but the Prince believes in your potential. Even if," she adds, looking to the Numbers, "it involves breaking some laws. Even if," she goes on, with a look to Elisa, "they're the laws of reality."
The blue-haired girl pauses, and looks to Angelo. "But I understand if you need more proof. The Prince is willing to offer his full backing to an operation in order to demonstrate his own dedication to this cause." She looks out to the others, and says: "Is there an operation you hoped to achieve which was difficult under your own power? If you're willing to come together to achieve it, the Prince will make sure you have everything you need."
<Pose Tracker> Emilia Eschonbach has posed.
The offer that the Prince puts on the table is too good to pass up for at least one of them. Sally, already leaning forward, looks around the room. "...There's some intel that I haven't yet been able to act on. And it might be relevant to all of you. How many of you are familiar with the G-Hound project known as Mobile Dolls?"
She waits for a spark of recognition- but proceeds anyway. "Mobile weapon squadrons imprinted with the combat data of the Federation's best pilots and led by a single commander. The project survived to the Gaia Sabers, and with it Nune can increases it's fighting power tenfold without a single extra soldier. The current extant mobile doll is the Taurus, but... I understand prototypes are under development at a base on Luna. The Taurus is aging out, but if they can make new units..."
Sally shakes her head. "More than that... they have the scientists behind Operation Meteor forcibly on the project. Spacenoids and Earthnoids both would be in danger. I'm not so naive to think we can shut down production permanently. There are bound to be backups. But we can stop them having an army of synthetic aces on our doorsteps as soon as we get started."
She takes a breath in. "We don't have enough knowledge of the base to safely assault it yet, even with the Prince's backing. We'd need time to prepare and I suspect learn how to operate together. But if such an operation meets the approval of the group... then we should start preparing."
<Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
Elisa smiles at Angelo, when he says it isn't a murmur. But he settles backward, and she decides that quiet hatred is sufficient. She will remember his name.
"Yes," Elisa says. "Humanity has great potential," she agrees with Invictus. "But will they realize it? That remains to be seen."
She considers the Sympatria Units, at that. The Earth Sphere...
"How fascinating," Elisa says, "That elements of Outside come to view our humble Sphere. I'm interested in your proof, of course, but am content to leave it at that, rather than require your secrecy be broken."
'Even if it involves breaking some laws'. 'Even if they're the laws of reality.' Elisa smiles, at this. "Just so."
But a base... and an operation.
"Hmmm. Yes, that could be troublesome," Elisa agrees. "I am not overfond of such means of battle. And they could be a problem for many of us."
"I am interested to see such an operation come to pass. My patience extends to a chance of proof."
<Pose Tracker> C.C. has posed.
"Three attendees named after numbers, and a mysterious masked man who talks loftily about overturning the mighty," Zero says, emitting a slightly loud little laugh. "Were I a lesser man, I'd imagine I'm being mocked. Were I a more conceited man, I'd imagine I'm being emulated. The truth perhaps lies closer in these being efficient methods for what we do."
Crossing one leg over the other, Zero's hands extend out ambivalently. "While Mr. Sauper advocating the interests of spurned spacenoids is no surprise, hearing these 'Sympatria' individuals coming from outside the Earth Sphere is quite a bit more surprising. The logical instinct is to assume a cell from Mars Zeon, but since it'd be simple enough to just say that outright...I wonder, just how wide are the Prince's ambitions, if they include a group that shouldn't be anywhere within thousands of kilometers of Earth?" Another low-breath chuckle. "Now I'm brough to remembering getting caught up in that debacle at Tsutsujidai, and the odddities we encountered in Paradigm City, and wondering if our mandate's extending in bizarre directions like that."
Though really - those were both in part driven by C.C.'s own curiosity as to those irregularities...
"Hoh. Sally brings up just what I was about to ask - if we had an immediate target to coordinate on, or if we were just discussing the general notion of an alliance. I'm glad you came prepared. The Mobile Doll project is an obvious force multiplier for our enemies - and has an obvious weak point. There's not a need to stop the entire production process - if we're able to isolate the facilities where the critical components are made." C.C. pulls a hand under her chin, stabilizing herself amidst the vertigo of her 'default' senses repeatedly having to get pushed and pulled back - dizzy whenever people walk too near and too far from Yuliana and Elisa. She can't even quite get the melancholy from seeing tender love on display and worrying about Lelouch - she has to avoid directly perceiving them.
"If our first operation is going to be on Luna, then your cohort might be most important to our success after all, Mr. Sauper, given how limited some of us are in access to space travel. Fortunate that we're likely to be dependent on your calls given the doubts you'd had before about us, yes?" Somehow - somehow - it almost seems like Zero's smiling beneath that mask. (Because C.C. is, in fact, eliciting quite the catty smile under there.)
<Pose Tracker> Sympatria Unit has posed.
"Lack of documentation, illegal port entry, illegal augmentation, proscribed weaponry, assault simple, and jaywalking," Two tells Milly.
"I guess that means I have four," says One, slowly, as if he is unsure that he should admit to that.
"You forgot account fraud," Eight tells Two.
"Oh yeah, so up that to seven and five," Two tells Milly with a nod-nod. She runs a hand through her hair. (Both she and Number Eight have black hair. Number Eight's got a close 'military' style, while Two's is more shaggy.)
Their attention moves forwards. The blue-haired girl speaks of Invictus, which makes One and Eight look at him in particular, even as Two moves her seat to more accurately face how people have ended sitting up.
Then Sally brings up the topic of Mobile Dolls, and asks if they've heard of them. "Sounds like a cartoon," Two cracks.
IT IS NOT A CARTOON.
All three of the Sympatrias frown. One glances at Zero; Eight glances at Angelo, which may be a question of angles, or may be because he stands for the people of Space.
Number Eight says, "Do you have much intelligence on the facility? Even if we cannot destroy it, there's sabotage. It might be possible to steal information on their designs as well." (One asides, "So what, then, that we'd make these Dolls?" "Exactly, or use the designs for something else." "Huh.")
Two scratches one of her teeth with a thumbnail, which makes a metallic noise. "Don't worry, Mr. Zero, it's just coincidence."
<Pose Tracker> Milly Ashford has posed.
'Later' it is, then. Milly... will put her concerns out of her mind for the moment. Or at least try.
What really activates her, though, is the mention of the Mobile Dolls. "I remember they were testing those in that PLANT..." Milly says. "I think this got buried in the news, but the specifications on those were already impressive. If they're aiming to improve on the Taurus, we need to throw a wrench in that production."
She doesn't have any great ideas for how to achieve this, but that's mostly an intelligence issue -- and if they really are sharing information, that sounds like it's handled. "I'd like to provide tactical services for that operation," Milly adds. "That's something of a personal matter for me."
With that out of the way, she nods to Two, and says, "I knew it was more than six," with a playful little smile.
<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.
Elisa smiles at him. He's seen those kinds of smiles before.
It's a familiar feeling. Angelo doesn't like it. It feels like worms wriggling through his spine.
He suppresses a shudder entirely out of reflexive experience.
He can't think about that right now. He can't think about -them- right now. As much as he'd like to make it clear just what he feels having to consort with people like -them-...!
--No. Focus. He needs to focus.
He can let words slung at him wash off his back. It's familiar territory. He can swallow his pride. It's familiar territory. He can lower himself to work with people who appall him...
He -needs- to.
So his attention focuses forward towards the blue-haired girl as she answers his question. He keeps his attention -focused- even as he feels that curious stare on him from the one called Eight and fights a reflexive urge to frown and tell her to look elsewhere entirely on the basis of her name (it is a source of many, -many- unpleasant memories). He keeps his attention focused as the girl makes her offer of demonstration...
And Sally Po serves up a very salient option.
Mobile Dolls. Gaia Sabers. Operation Meteor.
Angelo Sauper blinks at the information that Sally lays down. Some of them are familiar from information briefings, when the Colonel was in charge. Some of it is...
Fortunate that we're likely to be dependent on your calls given the doubts you'd had before about us, yes?
Some might expect some sort of smug, sadistic smile to tug at Angelo's lips at the thought. An air of Zeonic superiority to seize him in order to lord this position of unquestioned authority and usefulness over them.
But he just frowns a frown of someone who's never taken pleasure in such things, or much of anything.
"How lucky," he starts in, his voice controlled enough to possess only the scantest drip of biting sarcasm, "for -all- of us. After all, we're all willing to be such good friends now. Yes?"
Angelo exhales. His eyes shut. His palms settle on the table's cool surface. And when his eyes open, any trace of that sarcasm is gone in favor of cool professionalism.
"If the Prince provides his backing, my people can provide a foothold. I can provide people to help gathering information on the base. And weapons for those of our number who need space-capable suits. ... And we will be willing to cooperate with the rest of you, to decide the best approach." His gaze turns to Milly as she offers her tactical support with a nod of acknowledgment, and then the Kafims with a more pointed stare. See? Cooperation.
How wonderful.
He looks Emilia's way, quietly assessing. She's still so unfamiliar to him. But he needs to suppress the kneejerk feeling that rises inside of him when he sees her, too; sees what she is. He can do this. He needs to do this.
His stare fixes forward.
"This is... intel worth acting on."
Just focus.
<Pose Tracker> Emilia Eschonbach has posed.
Emilia's eyes scour the room, doing her best to follow Angelo's command. Focus. Remain attentive. Learn.
The threat that Mobile Dolls seem to represent, however, does evoke anger. "...cowards." She whispers under her breath- but probably not so quietly that Angelo doesn't hear.
She can feel his eyes upon her again. It feels like they're boring through her, at times. She was never properly trained, never properly a soldier. She was a child who someone decided could make a useful terrorist. Keeping her calm and cool has never been her strength.
Angelo chooses cooperation, in this moment. There's a slight relief that she does her best not to show.
<Pose Tracker> Liam 7-020 has posed.
'Invictus is a man who has run out of options.'
There's no response from behind the mask. Nor is there one when she continues. Not the terms he would have chosen, but... not wholly inaccurate, he supposes. Again, he glances at the numbered Sympatrias, remembering someone else with a number. His brow furrows. Subject Twenty, Cadre Seven--is the boy still out there, with his stolen property?
"It does," he says, to Elisa. They definitely have different definitions of 'great potential' there. But he's still looking at Number Eight and Number One.
"So, we're agreed that this is an unacceptable threat," he says, folding his hands; he gives a deferential little nod to Angelo, even. (He spent hours training himself to do those little gestures he never practiced in his daily life.) "Intel worth acting on. A chance to test the waters, together. I can help smooth out the logistics. I may even be able to take the field, if it's ready by then."
'It'? Presumably a Mobile Weapon of some kind.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"Mobile Dolls... Wilhelm von Juergen was working with that technology, if I recall, though he was using the B-System in particular when I fought him." Yuliana's lips curl in an unveiled sneer. She doesn't care for it. "I think we saw something like it in Isaac City, too..."
Thankfully, Sally thinks to explain what they are. And when she does, Yuliana speaks up again, to say: "You should listen to her, you know. Like me, Ms. Po used to serve with the REA... until she defected, of course. As a Major, she would have had plenty of access to these schemes -- and reason to keep tabs on them, in the current day. If she says they're on Luna, I believe her. I have reason to, anyway," she adds, "given that Juergen was operating out of a mining asteroid. 'Hellgate', they called it -- BB-1120. If he set up shop out there, why wouldn't others have done the same?"
And when Elisa expresses her interest, Yuliana squeezes her hand, and says: "Of course we'll lend you our assistance." They're a package deal, which means that Yuliana's assistance is also Elisa's assistance. That's just how it works.
Yuliana looks at Two, and says, quite plainly: "It's not an anime." Judau can expect his royalty check in the mail within 2-4 weeks. She doesn't seem terribly bothered by them coming from outside the Earth Sphere, even if that means they're Spacenoids. Once Spacenoid is like another! (One Spacenoid is not like another. Yuliana's a space racist.) But at least these Spacenoids do crime.
"We'll turn our efforts towards collecting intelligence before any operation begins, using Mr. Sauper's network," the blue-haired girl assures Eight, before she looks to Milly. "And we'll welcome your assistance, as well, Miss Coup de Foudre, Mr. Invictus. It seems we're all united in this... the Prince will be pleased to see a good resolution. If you have no further concerns... then I won't demand any more of your time. But we'll see each other again. The Prince considers each of you, here, to be cornerstones of your various resources... so I'll be speaking with you personally to communicate his efforts."
Yuliana smiles, to Angelo, thin-lipped.
Cooperation!
<Pose Tracker> C.C. has posed.
The clear turmoil boiling beneath Angelo's surface is oh so delightfully enjoyable to C.C. - and Zero begins, "Now, now, eagerness to be friends is admirable, but we're a few steps away from calling each other that, aren't we?"
But - - - she restrains herself. Sure, Zero is known to be smarmy, but there's a line between his theatrical turn of wit and the way C.C. delights in teasing people.
But it's so HARD. Look at him frown like that! She could just about squeeze his cheeks and rack up the bill on his credit card.
Milly speaking up and offering far more of a hand in this operation elicits juuuuust a bit of sweat down C.C.'s brow. They may not have known each other that well...but Milly's canny, and C.C.'s not as ideal an actor as she'd like. "Already seeing personal investment in our success - you're a fortuitous find to wind up in our 'fold'." Already making jokes about the organization...
Zero stands up with nary a sound of chair-sliding - C.C.'s mastered the art of slipping away quietly over the centuries, even in an unwieldy outfit like this. "As we've reached a concord, I'll thank our generous hosts - I trust the Prince and his network has plenty of ways of keeping in touch with us. For myself - I am a busy man, and I must be off."
The reality, of course, as C.C. flourishes her cape and marches down the hallway from the conference room...
Is that she needs to slip down a side room once she's finally out of sight, and double over a little, sweat crossing her face, slowly recovering from the nausea.
"...Hah...I'm really getting way too deep for your sake, aren't I, Lelouch...?"
<Pose Tracker> Sympatria Unit has posed.
<poem>
"Ha! You got a good eye for people," Two tells Milly before going back to scraping SOMETHING out of her teeth with -- is that a blade under her thumbnail?
Eight looks at Angelo with steady eyes. It might seem mocking, but perhaps, despite the skitter-on-a-hot-skillet presence of Yuliana and its impact on empathic signals, he would get the vibe of complete if well meaning incomprehension.
"I hope so," One answers Angelo, regarding friendship, with that same tentative tone.
Two opens one eye and swivels it, uncannily far, to look at Yuliana as she confirms that it's not an anime. "If this is gonna be a covert operation, we should tell them to get Six on the next shipment," Two opines to Eight, still digging a little on her teeth. The metallic noise stops, though.
"Hm," Eight says. One grimaces.
They all look at Zero for a moment, as he departs.
After a slightly awkward pause, One says to Angelo, "That is generous of you. We've got some vacuum experience, but it hasn't been the primary focus. I'm surprised that it's the first thing to come up... but I suppose the NUNE would think the Moon to be a secure place, compared to Earth's surface."
"Long walk," Eight concurs.