>>3877413
>>and she is the soon to be apprentice to the mad scientist we call Instructor Fisk

i really have nothing else

>>3877413
never seen one?

>>3877413
>Allow me to reintroduce her. Rosaria El Moldover Siprance, recent escapee of Colony Fleet Golgoth, soon to be apprentice of Instructor Fisk... and something like a stray cat I picked up.

>>3877457
You already introduced her.

Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>3877454
>>3877456
>>3877457
Let's see who fate chooses.

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‘And an apprentice of one Instructor Fisk,’ you add helpfully … and with emphasis. You didn’t want a repeat of the incident at the archives with Gerard’s prospective fiancee of all people. ‘I’m not sure whether that’s a good or bad thing, though.’

You let out a rather forced laugh at the end of your sentence, hoping to navigate Jodie away from anything that would upset the small gathering in this tiny corner of the glass loft … you in particular. It’s a hard reminder that not everyone shared your level of … tolerance and understanding (meagre as it is in actual value). While your general perspective of Colony Fleet Inhabitants was by no means clean-cut, you definitely did think of Rosaria as a pleasant enough person to be around once one got past her oddities … and you were loath to think that one would generalize her with a generalization so crude and all-encompassing.

It wasn’t like you didn’t understand the perspective of Jodie … and the rest of the Imperium, either, but you’d let mountains crumble to dust before you allowed the sort of leeway that enabled insult of your personal acquaintances. Jodie, of course, included.

Jodie takes her eyes off the tattoos on Rosaria’s hand, visibly biting the inside of her lip and stiffening as she rose to full height and turns her attentions back to you.

‘Why would it be a … bad thing?’

As forced as that sounds, you’re much too eager to take a step away from a potentially uncomfortable situation for everyone present to call her out on it.

‘Fisk isn’t really known to be … conservative when it comes to his … practices,’ Gerard chimes in. Sparing your friend a glance, you feel like treating him to a few rounds at the bar should he wish; perhaps even an embrace. Maybe. Possibly.

‘You only say that because you don’t actually appreciate him,’ Sansa retorts, much to your surprise. ‘Remember, he’s one of the most brilliant minds in the PSYCOM development game.’

‘He’s also certifiably insane,’ Gerard fires back, sparing you a glance. ‘Remember third year?’

You, genuinely and honestly, almost burst out in laughter. ‘Oh dear me, I wish I could forget that. What was the lingerie supposed to do again?’

‘Stimulate and simulate,’ Gerard chuckles, prompting Sansa to giggle behind a closed fist. ‘Emperor help us if he actually gets a break-through one of these days. That man has nothing stopping him but an overloaded generator and a forty-eight hour maintenance and repair period.’

‘Why isn’t he allowed to fix them again?’ you inquire, wondering why a specialist of such magnitude wouldn’t.

‘Insurance, I think.’

You nod in understanding.

‘Excuse me, but what’s … PSYCOM development?’

You turn to Jodie, who appeared to be lost.

>Explain to her
>Don’t explain to her
>Have Rosaria explain it to her
>Write-In

>>3877601
I can give you the short explanation, but Rosaria would be more suited to the long one.

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You really want to gush out all the details of what PSYCOM was. You’d been following the details ever since you received a detail on the first would-be test-type for PSYCOM mech warfare: TheTest-Type Q. You’d imagined the Mechs of the future, where the joystick and console are a mere 10 percent of the mecha’s function. It never went beyond the testing phases, of course. The PSYCOM dream had been just that for at least almost as long as the current Emperor had breathed air. There had been many attempts over the last hundred or so years to integrate the human mind and machine, but the most that your generation had seen in terms of progress was Navigator Assistance Modules; FTL Virtual Intelligences that were more niche than they were able to be commercially and widely applied. The nitty-gritty of it, however … well, it wasn’t something for someone as unqualified as you to spout. You are, after all, at the end of the day, a mere dreamer; a fanboy, at worst.

Luckily for you, however, there was someone here who could.

‘I could give you the short of it,’ you start coolly, before smiling and turning to Rosaria. ‘I believe, however, that it would be best to relinquish that responsibility into more qualified hands.’

COMMAND +1

You don’t need to turn your head to know that Sansa was rolling her head at your exaggerated tone.

‘M-Me?’ Rosaria squeaks, surprised at having been put on the spot.

‘You’re the engineer. I think someone of your background would at least have the dirty details even if you don’t have the gist of the development.’

‘I …’ she trails off, biting her lip. You hear Sansa hissing something to your side, but you don’t pay her any attention, throwing Rosaria a challenging gaze, daring her to step up.

If she was to survive at all without the benefit of your presence on Rhysode, this was as good as any a place to start. Jodie, in the meanwhile, appears to regard her with a neutral indifference, waiting patiently but not looking as though she wasn’t expecting anything substantial from the Colony Fleet Inhabitant. If your suspicions were anywhere near accurate, she was probably thinking of things she’d rather be doing over listening to a Spacer.

But Jodie wasn’t the bulk of your concern.

‘Well, the PSYCOM studies originated as a sort of … middle-link between digital-mental interface limits between humans and programs, artificial intelligence … machines, if you will. The specific origins are iffy, but the earliest recorded—and credible—theorem was under a joint project of the Trade Houses known as the Laplace Directive … or the Newtype Theorem.’

Rosaria gives you a brief, uncertain look.

>Carry on for her
>Prompt her to continue

>>3877788
>>Prompt her to continue

>>3877788
>>Prompt her to continue

>>3877788
>Prompt her to continue

Resuming session in a bit.

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>>3877413
>>194484536
Your competitive flame gather hathee bust out the ding ddong, I'm divorcing them <33333333
>>3877413

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You prompt her to continue.

Her hesitation is brief, but she seems to gain enough confidence at your gesture to go on.

‘I can’t say that I’m particularly … deep into the subject myself, but as someone who’s delved into low-level sub-routine programming and VI modules for vehicle interfaces, the benefits of the research have leaked out enough for me to … at least have awareness of its history,’ Rosaria continues tentatively. ‘Most VI modules and their patches from the last hundred years have been pretty much offshoots from the initial dive into the subject. Even if there hasn’t been any progress, the bulk of humanity … Alliance, Empire, Colony Fleet … we at least owe the tweaks to the system in its attempt to assist and minimize the expansion of human error, especially with the scale that the bulk of us have been operating at for the last few—several centuries. I can’t say how applicable it would be in other fields, but the PSYCOM development is pretty much its own branch. Most of the research is based around a higher spatial awareness for humanity through symbiotic VI relationships, enhanced sensory development … but … if we’re talking about the context Senpai’s referring to, I haven’t really seen how it’s had any actual application as a mode of warfare. PSYCOM’s emphasis on extra-sensory enhancement hasn’t really left room for that … sort of thing. At least to my knowledge.’

She lets out a sudden, nervous laugh, scratching the back of her head as her cheeks turn a rosy pink. Even in this light, you could see how they practically glow as her embarrassment at being the centre of attention hits the proverbial critical mass.

‘I don’t think my perspective on it’s as reliable as I’ve tried to make it sound, though,’ Rosaria backpedals slightly, wearing a guilty smile. ‘I haven’t really had the opportunity to dive that deep into the topic, so if there’s anything that I know, it’s mostly anecdotal to what I’ve tried to pick up through ship engineering. I think my knowledge would be a little bit outdated in that sense …’

Rosaria shyly looks around at her audience, as if waiting for—

‘It’s still quite substantial,’ Gerard commends her, much to your surprise. ‘I didn’t know that ships actually employed offshoots of PSYCOM development. Didn’t think we made any actual progress in that field.’

‘I wouldn’t call it progress,’ you argue. ‘I mean … we haven’t actually made any of the original ideals of … what was it again? The Newtype Theorem?’

‘Laplace Directive,’ Rosaria corrects you. ‘The Newtype Theorem was just the original hypothesis.’

‘Yeah, that. I mean … it’s not like we’ve actually managed to make a Mech with a VI module that fits that description since.’

There’s a collective nod … from everyone.

Some things were still a little out of reach, right?

>Write-In

>>3877892
mayve it a few decades or centuries, a ship is just a few degreees of complexity below a mech

>>3877892
Though it would be interesting to have them.

>>3877895
>>3877907
Flipping a coin. Coin flipped.

‘Not that I would mind riding with a Mech that was responsive on instinct rather than input,’ you add, trying to keep the child in your voice from speaking its mind too loudly. ‘It’d be an interesting addition to the theatre of war, more than anything else.’

‘Didn’t they suggest that the added stress from the extra input-output would practically render you invalid the moment you entered a high stress situation?’ Gerard mentions helpfully. ‘Not that I keep up with it, but Fisk’s been practically harping about the limits of the human mind since you needed a few more inches on your pants.’

‘That is extremely rude of you to point out and … at the same time, accurate.’

Gerard snorts, leaning against the glass barrier as all eyes fell on him.

‘I wouldn’t put it past Fisk to be the one to bring us over that threshold, but at the same time, I feel like it’s not something that we should be … wishing for, you know? I think that we’ve already got enough escalation as things are going with Princess Urnae and those two politicians from the other side. Can you imagine the implications if we achieved warfare applicability for a fully-fledged PSYCOM Mech?’

‘I can imagine,’ you admit, not liking the idea either. ‘Escalation into escalation.’

‘Forgive me for interrupting Lord Mishima,’ Jodie starts, catching your attention. ‘I’m not too … knowledgeable on the details, but what do you mean by escalation into escalation?’

‘Paranoia spawns the most frightening demons,’ you let out simply, rubbing your thumb into your palm. ‘Sovereignty, security … the threat of probability has always heightened the worry of man. PSYCOM development may have hit an effective dead-end, but it may have been for the betterment of greater humanity. We’re already up in arms about what goes where and where power truly lies. By the original projections of PSYCOM in the context of warfare, we’d essentially be opening a gateway into all-out conflict by virtue of taking the step. The other side—The Alliance Military—would likely see such progression as further reason for justified aggression … and we’d retaliate in kind. Perceived violations make for crude justification, but that’s just how people are. Escalation into escalation … not that a hypothetical PSYCOM program would be grounds for it, though. People will find a reason to pick a fight, and it’s usually over something that one side wants or doesn’t have.’

‘Is that what you typed up in your philosophy essay?’ Sansa snorts, prompting a ring of chuckles from those present.

You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue in irritation.

‘Being a Scion, I feel like I’m a better authority judging what brings the worst out of us. That’s not to say that an advancement in the area would be unwelcome, of course. It feels like a logical enough progression … unless we finally have lasers that can break through disruptors.'

‘Well, it’s not like we need those,’ Gerard comments. ‘That’s what we have kinetic weaponry for.’

You concede the point.

‘Do all … Imperials speak of warfare with such … ease?’

You turn to face a rather … apprehensive-looking Rosaria.

>Write-In

>>3877971
>"Maybe instead of considering us Imperials first and foremost, you should think of us as aspiring mech pilots. "

>>3877971
>we'll we are at a military academy, this is what we train to do

>>3877971
we are military academy students AND imperials

>>3877971
>We’re a military academy, this line of thought has been bludgeoned into our thick skulls by the heavy hands of our teachers. We’re not the norm.

Session in 10 minutes.

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‘We’re graduating would-be officers from a military academy,’ you answer neutrally, crossing your arms over your chest. ‘We wouldn’t have lasted if we didn’t at least have half the awareness of what the Empire expected of us. The ones that can’t take it turn their uniform in after their mandatory period of service. I think that most do.’

‘Some do,’ Sansa corrects you, causing heads to turn their attentions to her. ‘The main reason AEGIS graduates turn their uniform in is actually because competition for advancement’s more stiff than people realize. Even jumping from Numbered Squadrons to Chapters for you jockeys is a … I believe the term is crap-shoot?’

‘If you’re good, you’re good,’ Gerard weighs in, tilting his head slightly. ‘I think Instructor Fisher made that leap without any issue. It just depends on what the state of recruitment is.’

‘Fisher’s also the White Hawk of Arrakis,’ you mention pointedly, taking a little bit of pride knowing that that same woman now (technically) shared you bed. ‘The recruitment team knew what they were doing. That’s a high bar for anyone looking to make that leap. I mean … look at you and Maldante. You two are probably the best pilots in our year and the most that you got was Survey detail.’

You snicker as Gerard makes a dispassionate sound.

‘I still can’t believe you were the only cadet in our class that actually scored a win against her.’

Wray’s words rumble at the back of your thoughts.

‘Yeah, well, beginner’s luck and all that,’ you return. ‘I didn’t score high enough to get a commendation, so it means jack in the scheme of things … but back to your question, Rosaria, we’re probably the worst people to answer that question. Well, except for Sansa, maybe, but … well … I suppose it would be disingenuous to assume that the whole Empire is comfortable with pulling a trigger just because we’re conditioned and prepared to make that call. It’d be the same if I assumed that the average Colony Fleet Inhabitant would be able to patch up a drive compensator with flex adhesives and a torch. People have different perspectives and moral thresholds. Ours just happens to stop with the man at the other end of our cannon.’

Sansa joins Rosaria’s apprehension at your statement, biting her bottom lip.

For someone so practical in life, it was almost comical that her idealism stretched boundaries that you never bothered to venture.

‘I … can’t patch a drive compensator with flex adhesive and a torch,’ Rosaria returns, smiling wryly. ‘The particle acceleration would liquefy the adhesive and cause the compensator’s … compensation protocol to reach a dead zone and enable catastrophe by the tenth jump sequence.’

The circle stares at her in incredulity.

‘Just … correcting you there, Senpai.’

Gerard and Sansa turn away, chuckling into fists.

>>3878790
>‘So, ah … Jodie, I’m sorry. Would you care to tell me more about yourself?’
>‘Have you talked to your family since leaving the dorm?’
>‘If there’s nothing else … I’ll catch you later, Gerard. Miss Jodie.’
>Write-In

>>3878792
>‘So, ah … Jodie, I’m sorry. Would you care to tell me more about yourself?’

>>3878792
>>‘So, ah … Jodie, I’m sorry. Would you care to tell me more about yourself?’

>>3878792
>>‘Have you talked to your family since leaving the dorm?’

>>3878792
>>‘So, ah … Jodie, I’m sorry. Would you care to tell me more about yourself?’

>>3878792
>>‘So, ah … Jodie, I’m sorry. Would you care to tell me more about yourself?’

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‘So, ah, Jodie … forgive me, but … would you care to tell me about yourself? Gerard tells me that you’re attending university.’

Not that you were really curious, of course, but … she was still someone that was important to Gerard, regardless of her how she felt about Rosaria, and it would be rude for you to be so quick to exclude her from the circle. Besides, it’s not as if you were on a set schedule (Although, you did think that your other comrades deserved a poke-in before you retired for the night).

‘Oh, ah, yes, I’m … taking a course in terraforming and agriculture,’ she answers, cheeks slightly pink. ‘That and … with electives in linguistics and trade. I’m looking to pursue a career in APU and terraforming in the future if possible, but … well, if I can’t, well, at least the electives will give me a fall-back. It’s a bit of a mess in terms of course structure, of course, I think everyone I know’s pretty much told me I’m generalizing things a bit, but … I like to keep my options open; and … you never know when you have to actually have to deal with trade frigates from the other side.’

You’re reminded of Rhysode’s purpose.

‘Well, it’s always nice to have fall-backs,’ you reply neutrally, wearing as diplomatic a smile as you can muster. ‘Is there any particular reason that you have an interest in the terraforming sector?’

Jodie’s cheeks light up just that bit more.

‘Well, I … it’s just so incredible, isn’t it?’ Her voice takes an excitable turn. ‘That we can turn a whole worlds inhabitable in the span of … two? Three generations with mountain-sized processors? The manipulation of magnetic lines, the seeding of those worlds with artificial life triggers? It’s just … it’s incredible. The sheer magnitude of it is just mind-boggling. I mean, I’d love to stay on Rhysode, but it’s … I can’t even describe it. It’s like you’re part of a greater whole and helping in making it work. Those titanic engines, the storms, the conversion of the atmosphere into an inhabitable minimum … it’s just so fascinating. And everyone knows that the continental fertility treatments are re-applicable to agriculture if I ever decide to go small, so—’

She stops mid-sentence, smiling in apology.

‘I’m sorry, I … didn’t mean to ramble …’

You brush it right off, letting out a light chuckle.

‘No, that’s quite all right. It’s actually quite inspiring to see that you’re keen on following through with your own ambitions. I know APU crews are always keen to have more join their ranks; you could be one of the first colonists on the Frontier.’

She waves her hands frantically in front of her.

‘No, no, I don’t think I’m … that committed just yet,’ Jodie laughs nervously. ‘I … maybe somewhere down the line … maybe?’

You don’t miss the brief glance she gives Gerard.

>Write-In
>Leave

>>3878967
>You to make such a cute couple. (chuckle)

‘You two make a cute couple.’

Gerard’s frown wrinkles as Jodie looks away from her fiancee, at an obvious loss of words. The fact that Gerard doesn’t even bother throwing up any resistance to the claim has you pretty much basking in this final victory of sorts. It’d be some time before any of you managed to meet up again … and you wanted to get every inch you could before the inevitable counter-attack. Sansa giggles at your comment, but otherwise doesn’t say anything to highlight or further Gerard’s embarrassment. It’s still quite a stretch for you to reconcile the dismissive attitude of the man that attracted women by scent alone with the dedicated almost-spouse that you see before you, troubled as he was. As much as you wished to help, however … as a man, there was a part of you that understood that some things … you just wanted to do by hand.

This was one of those things.

‘If you ever decide to get your feet warm again, send me an invitation,’ you tease, grinning widely.

It’s just too bad that you were a right bastard.

Gerard glares at you, making a face that looked as though he was chewing on a rather stubborn piece of steak. Jodie tilts her head in confusion, prompting you to conclude that this was a good time to take your leave. Raising a hand and gesturing for Sansa to follow, you hold back your cackle as you leave Gerard to his night.

>Reinweld
>Maldante
>Write-In

>>3879055
>>Maldante

>>3879055
>>Maldante

>>3879055
>Maldante

>>3879055
>>Maldante

I'll be running later tonight. In about ... 3-4 hours.

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Maldante had moved on from where you’d last seen him, but that didn’t mean he was hard to spot, either. Those blonde locks were a dead giveaway wherever he stood. Enough for Sansa to point them out, anyway. The valedictorian of your class (Much to Sansa’s chagrin) was found hovering around the complimentary finger food buffet off to the side, looking conflicted on whether he should be digesting the spicy tofu cups or sesame wraps.

‘Nice speech,’ Sansa declares, taking the initiative, her tone oddly neutral.

Maldante looks up from the spread, smirking as he turned his attentions to the three of you.

‘Ah, Sansa,’ he chuckles, rubbing his knuckles, tone more akin to a corporate head extending a handshake than anything resembling familiarity. ‘Thank you. I tried to wax it on a bit more but I don’t think the masses would have appreciated me sucking that much life out of the party.’

It’s all that you can do to stop bursting into laughter.

Your sense of humour had some development of its own to do, but as far as you cared, funny is funny.

‘We’re all thankful for your discretion,’ Sansa replies dryly, rolling her eyes. ‘How’s the food?’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ he shrugs. ‘I’m trying not to go too overboard tonight. Last thing I want is another case of indigestion ruining my last night as a graduate and these tofu cups are looking mighty appealing.’

As if on cue, two fellows shuffle behind Maldante, loading their plates up with at least three cups apiece before trudging off into the crowd.

‘You wouldn’t happen to know if the sauce is overboard with the meat stock, would you?’ Maldante inquires.

‘It’s your last night as a graduate and you’re fretting over spicy tofu cups?’ you gib, almost letting out a grumble of incredulity.

‘It will never fail to amuse me that between the two of us, your stomach is the one with the more stubborn constitution,’ he snipes, raising an eyebrow. ‘Admittedly, however, it probably shouldn’t surprise me … considering how much gravity seemed to have a more tempestuous inclination to your mass than it ever did mine.’

‘Hey, I lost weight,’ you retort playfully, thoroughly amused despite being on the receiving end of the barb. ‘Oh, and, uh … nice speech. A little plodding towards the end, but you got there all the same.’

‘Your criticism is appreciated. I thought about quoting Lord Elrond, but …’

‘Yeah, I think that would be a little too much,’ you admit, nodding. ‘I think daylight would be breaking by the sixth paragraph …’

‘Who’s Lord Elrond?’

You almost bite your tongue as you mentally chastise yourself.

Once again, you’d forgotten all about Rosaria.

‘Oh?’

Come to think of it, had you even introduced her to Maldante proper?

>Write-In

>>3881833
>Lucion Maldante, may I present to you Rosaria El Moldover Siprance, one of my three dates tonight. Rosaria, may I present to you class valedictorian, wannabe Silver Hall member and book lover the very posh Lucion Maldante.

>>3881841
this

>>3881841
Support

>>3881833
>>3881841
This

‘Ah, yes … I don’t think that the two of you have been introduced,’ you start, stepping slightly to your right for your companion’s convenience. ‘This is Rosaria El Moldavor Spirance, my date for the night. Rosaria, this blow-hard is known as a Lucion Maldante: class valedictorian, aspiring politician and literal book-love—’

You feel the strike of a closed fist against the side of your head, prompting you to cut the introduction short.

‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Spirance,’ Maldante greets, taking Rosaria’s hand and giving her knuckle a gentle peck, causing her cheeks to turn a bright red. You blink, surprised at the unexpected gesture; Maldante, however, cares not for your considerations, turning on the charm as he raised to his full height, continuing, ‘I trust that your date hasn’t ground your ears to dust talking about the Hellion’s performance scopes?’

You kick Maldante in the shin.

How dare he suggest such vile impossibilities?

‘Ah, oh … no, Senpai’s been very kind to me,’ Rosaria stammers, right as Maldante releases her hand, looking so devilishly smooth you swear you could use him as a whetstone. ‘It’s not as if it’s a topic that I’m … wholly uninterested in, either.’

‘Three miracles in one day,’ Maldante quips, smirking. ‘You must be walking on starlight.’

‘Laugh it up, fuzz-ball,’ you grumble, not missing Sansa’s betrayal as the dark-haired woman chuckles into a closed fist.

‘Quite the charmer, isn’t he?’ Maldante snipes, glancing at Sansa. ‘Although, considering your origins, he would be a step up.’

Rosaria opens her mouth … before closing it again, looking uncertain.

You move to step in—

>Step in and divert the topic away from its current course
>Allow Rosaria the courtesy to decide for herself
>Write-In

>>3882001
>>Allow Rosaria the courtesy to decide for herself

>>3882001
>Allow Rosaria the courtesy to decide for herself

>>3882001
>>Allow Rosaria the courtesy to decide for herself

>>3882001
>>Allow Rosaria the courtesy to decide for herself

No.

You weren’t her babysitter. You were her senior.

‘Senpai has been very kind to me,’ Rosaria repeats, smiling softly as she gives a small nod. ‘I have no complaints over the manner of his conduct or his intentions, whatsoever. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that his generosity and consideration towards me has … exceeded all expectations that I had of the Imperium. Even more so knowing his origins. I won’t claim to know him as well as you have come to in your years of friendship … but he has been exceptionally kind to me and …’

She trails off, tugging at her ear as she looks away, cheeks slightly red.

‘He hasn’t used that as leverage against me in the slightest.’

Maldante cocks an eyebrow, observing her thoughtfully, before glancing up at you.

‘You’re really a Mecha-Maniac through and through, aren’t you?’

‘Sh-Shut up,’ you hiss, glaring daggers at the valedictorian as you try to ignore the heat behind your ears. ‘A-Anyway, are you really planning to linger around a buffet aisle for the next five hours? Doesn’t sound like my idea of a fun night.’

‘Not at all. I was actually thinking of walking around and gauging the mood.’

You stare at Maldante, thoroughly puzzled by the response. Walking around and gauging moods? What was this? A party simulator?

‘What?’

‘Oh, right: context,’ he coughs, straightening himself … and moving out of the way of two attendees intent on plundering the table for all it was worth. People could be such savages sometimes. ‘That conversation that we had this afternoon … I was actually wondering what everyone else had on conjecture regarding Kaibara. It feels like our class is more keen on avoiding discussing it at all.’

‘Of course they’d be,’ Sansa snaps, scowling. ‘Most of us are out here looking to have a good time, not … play at cloak and dagger. The Emperor has enough on his plate without us perpetuating gossip.’

‘How oddly patriotic of you, Sansa.’

‘Princess Urnae’s funeral’s the last thing anyone wants to talk about … and call me naive, but I think whispering conspiracies while the pyre’s still warm is a little insensitive.’

Maldante regards her, his eyes betraying nothing.

‘Yes, definitely oddly patriotic.’

Sansa grumbles, throwing her hands up. You let out a brief chortle, despite yourself. Sansa had never been particularly … fond of the Imperial family. Not that she was crying for open rebellion, but coming from a Border World, Rim World or Frontier World … one had more disconnect to the on-goings of the Empire unless they were in the very centre of it. That very centre, unfortunately, turned out to be conflict more often than not.

‘Kaibara? Is that … what those officials were discussing on the news? Back at the hotel?’ Rosaria asks, catching your attention again (Along with Sansa’s and Maldante’s).

>Write-In

>>3883548
>The very same, something that has everyone on edge for it's potential to spark full on conflict and it's implications

>>3883594
this

>>3883594
Sure

>>3883594
>Supporting

I have my shit typed up and session will start in ... 15 minutes.

‘The very same,’ you confirm, nodding. ‘Everyone’s been pretty much on edge since. The more paranoid crowd’s saying that it’s got the makings of a prelude to war.’

Rosaria gasps, covering her mouth as her eyes go as wide as saucers.

‘And that’s why they’re called the paranoid,’ Sansa soothes, sighing. ‘The galaxy’s not a transport from one colonized city to the next. War isn’t just you boys jumping into your Mechs and playing at being hero. The Border Worlds, the Frontier, the Rim Worlds … it’s a logistical nightmare; you’d have to secure jump points, play at attrition, establish supply lines millions of miles—lightyears—long and keep playing between offensives and counter-offensives. Pushing a siege back in itself is pretty much what separates Chapters from Squadrons and you think that it’s as easy as being a better pilot and having the bigger gun? There’s no logical explanation for either side to push for war even if they wanted to. As angry … as upset as anyone has a right to be, you’re talking about the mobilization and sustenance of billions that make up a fighting force pushing for an advantage. If I was the Emperor … or the Silver Hall, I’d be voting in madness, regardless of how I personally felt.’

‘Emotions dull judgment,’ Maldante states, crossing his arms. ‘Are you expecting anyone to remain rational in the wake of such an event?’

‘Are you expecting people to not be?’ Sansa shoots back.

>Leave them to it
>‘If I was the Emperor … I think I would try to be rational about things. It’s not even clear-cut who was at fault.’
>‘This is just the latest in a long line of grievances. It’d be an inevitable tipping point if nothing else.’
>‘How about how the Alliance Military and the Republic feel about this? They did lose two diplomats.’
>Write-In

>>3884823
>‘If I was the Emperor … I think I would try to be rational about things. It’s not even clear-cut who was at fault.’

>>3884823
>>‘If I was the Emperor … I think I would try to be rational about things. It’s not even clear-cut who was at fault.

>>3884823
>It's clear that it was sabotage though. Ships, especially ones carrying such important dignitaries don't just blow up like that. The issue is who, and if they will try again. If I was the Emperor I would be trying to keep a clear head, because this reeks of someone trying to push for war.

>>3884823
>>‘If I was the Emperor … I think I would try to be rational about things. It’s not even clear-cut who was at fault.’

File: Gonna Miss You.jpg (39 KB, 637x358)

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‘Even if I was the Emperor … I think I would try to be rational about things,’ you declare thoughtfully. ‘It’s not even clear-cut just who was at fault … or if it was malicious at all. I’m not saying that there aren’t a few conclusions that we’ve come to out of what we have at hand, but … even with the loss of Princess Urnae, I think the Emperor knows better than to push for something on the magnitude of an all-out war with the Alliance Military, especially with the Frontier and the Border scuffles at the top.’

Sansa nods.

Maldante, however, keeps his silence, his eyes distant …

‘Lucion?’

‘Sorry, I was just … the Frontier Worlds really are stretching us thin, aren’t they?’

‘Mostly due to the logistics of the situation,’ you reply; you had to know that much at the very least. It was your department, after all. ‘The further you get from the Imperial core, the more scarce Imperial presence becomes. I think that’s a general rule when it comes to the dominion of worlds. The more spread out you get, the harder it is to consolidate your influence. It’s why dictatorships stay rather than risk the stretch.’

‘You’d know, wouldn’t you?’

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to retort Sansa’s accusation. You could have easily pointed out in agreeing to be your Mistress, that she was as much a willing accessory to that notion as you were. Perhaps even more so, considering she was the one who took that step forward.

‘Iron fists by means of economy isn’t a dictatorship,’ you reply, tone as neutral as you can manage. ‘It just means that you have a lot of leverage to enable that influence.’

‘Your luck with women excluded, of course,’ Maldante grins, winking mischievously.

You smile tightly, unwilling to rise to the bait.

‘You know my policy,’ you state dryly, your tone as even as you can manage.

Maldante throws up a half-apologetic smile, nodding and continuing, ‘But I don’t really … well, I suppose it’s a good thing that the Emperor has counsel for these trying times.’

‘You’re giving the Hall too much credit.’

‘I know. I should speed up those credentials and get in before the sanity’s reduced to an atom.’

‘Are you implying that you’d have enough sanity to go around after climbing up the political ladder?’

Maldante considers your point, before finally giving a nonchalant shrug. ‘Equivalent exchange at its purest.’

Sansa giggles behind a closed fist; loud enough—and honest enough—to catch both your attentions. Her shoulders quaking and her ponytail bouncing, she looks a smidgen too amused by your exchange … before removing her fist from her mouth, wearing a melancholic smile as she looks at Maldante.

‘I’m going to miss you, Lucion.’

Maldante’s jaw slackens, albeit briefly.

‘I’m … I suppose it’d be dishonest to say that I won’t—’

He gurgles out a puff of nonsense as Sansa constricts his ribs, tearful sniffles audible as she forces the air out of his lungs in an almighty embrace.

‘Don’t forget us, okay?’ she squeaks, burying herself in his chest.

Lucion throws you a pleading look.

>Let him suffer
>Relieve him of his suffering
>Write-In

>>3884926
>>Let him suffer

>>3884926
>>Write-In
Wallow in his sorrow.
Group hug.

>>3884926
>Mistress Mishima, I doubt he will be able to forget us. In fact I suspect that he might be the one calling for our assistance in some political machination. (Relieve him of his physical suffering but leave him with some mental damage)

>>3884938
I just want you to know you put a small smile on my face.

File: Sansa 3.jpg (143 KB, 850x1209)

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You mimic Sansa’s earlier action, chuckling into your fist as you basked in his misfortune. As the seconds ticked by, however, you realize that if you or Rosaria didn’t do something about the suddenly-sobbing mess that was your Mistress (And the scene that she was causing in front of the finger buffet), there would be a cadaver with crushed lungs prone on the ground. After getting your fill of Lucion’s suffering, you reach for Sansa’s shoulder, giving an ever-so-gentle tug, which is, thankfully, enough to prompt a loosening of the latter’s arms from the former’s torso. Maldante smiles down weakly at Sansa, now truly at a loss of words. You probably would be too, if you were in his position. Sansa and Maldante had thrown barbed remarks at one another with the same frequency that you and Reinweld had the last five years. You wouldn’t have suspected that Sansa felt any warmth beyond surface-level tolerance.

Just like you and Reinweld.

Probably.

Maybe.

Impossibly.

No.

‘Now, now, my dear,’ you let out playfully, pulling her away from Maldante. ‘I doubt that he’ll be able to forget us any time soon. You never know when there’s a proposition that he needs support for when the rest of the Hall would chew his legs off before bothering with a middle road. Perhaps even a machination that involves reformation of taxation on performance over position.’

‘I would … never,’ he huffs, straightening his collar and clicking his tongue. ‘And yes, there’s probably no need to worry about the possibility of us not seeing one another if all’—he lets out a light cough—‘goes to plan. A few years here, a few years there, commendations, recommendations, a letter and we’ll be—wait, what do you mean by we?’

‘Oh, I thought you’d realized by now,’ you chuckle, coiling your arms around Sansa and settling underneath her hefty bosom … before feeling a stinging sensation at the side of your neck from an embarrassed smack, prompting you to stop. ‘My ambitious comrade, I give you Sansa Wilmots … Mistress of the Mishima.’

Lucion’s cheeks practically implode into his face. Maldante’s throat seems to practically dry at the reveal.

Not for all of Reinweld’s assets would you trade this moment.

‘You’re poking your thumb into my breast,’ Sansa hisses. You comply.

‘This isn’t a … joke, is it?’

‘No, it … isn’t,’ Sansa answers, sighing … and smiling. ‘I … we are.’

The blonde man rubs his temples, wearing an odd, wry smile. It leaves even you puzzled.

‘You all right?’

‘I believe you just lessened the odds on the conspiracy of the Newtype Therem by a considerable margin,’ he replies dryly, to which you roll your eyes. ‘How far along are the both of you?’

‘Oh, I … I’m not pregnant,’ Sansa hurriedly replies.

>‘Yet.’
>‘I know. I’m a bit of a procrastinator.’
>Write-In

>>3884968
>>‘Yeeeeet.’

>>3884968
>‘Yet.’

File: DON'T SAY IT SO CASUALLY (...).gif (2.23 MB, 540x304)

2.23 MB GIF

‘Yet.’

You double over as pain spreads through your lower abdomen, forcing all the air out of your lungs.

‘Yet,’ Sansa repeats, her voice sickly sweet even as her fist pulls back from its point of impact (Just above your stomach).

>Write-In

>>3884996
>Considering the women I've fallen for... I seem to have masochistic tendencies.

>>3884996
>>3884998
this is fine

Be back in a bit. Have to tend to my cats.

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As you gently caress your poor stomach, you can’t help but wonder if there was a small part of you that secretly enjoyed the punishment … or if it was just because Sansa was the one doing it. Such thoughts fall off quickly, however, as you remember just where you are and who your present company is made up of … and you quickly stand to full height (Or rather, as quickly as you can manage). You file such thoughts away for pondering at a later date … but not before you make a correlation between the shivers that you get from Fisher lecturing you with a—

You give your head a slight shake.

A later would definitely be more adequate.

‘I’d like to say congratulations, but,’ Lucion hesitates, looking from Sansa to you and back to her again, ‘Sansa, do you understand the implications of this—’

‘I do,’ she answers breathlessly, wearing a smile that tugs at a cavity of empathy that you didn’t know that you still had. ‘I’m … we’re all moving on and … I … we … I really think this is the best move to make for me. I can’t say for sure how we’ll make this work, but … well, I know better than to let a chance like this get away. It’s not like I could do a lot better or a lot worse.’

‘Reinweld said no?’

Your shoulders droop.

‘I’m right here.’

‘I’m aware,’ Lucion answers, a surprising amount of concern carved into his voice. ‘It may not seem much to you, but I’d rather not see your Mistress here jump in without making an uneducated decision … or one based on desperation. We talk about conspiracy and likelihoods, but building a foundation on—’

‘It’s fine,’ she cuts in again, placing a hand on your chest. ‘I’m … this is an educated decision. I’m … the way I’m going, how everything’s going I … I think there are worse outcomes than being a Mistress of the Mishima. I know what that comes with and … I’m … I won’t say that I’m prepared for it, but I’m prepared to deal with the consequences. I could be doing a lot worse.’

‘Could you?’

‘Oh, definitely. As far as things go, three out of five on a weighted criteria is a catch.’

‘Three out of five?’

Lucion looks away, chuckling.

‘Well … I actually thought that Reinweld would have been more your type, if you ever had one. You seem to be more inclined to order than chaos.’

You let out a grumble, glaring at the twosome.

‘Again … I’m right over here.’

Lucion snorts, before finally sparing you his attention. ‘So what did you promise her? A world to call her own?’

You sneer at Lucion, genuinely offended. ‘You think I’m that cheap?’

‘I’m going by generalizations here. I have no idea what courtship attitudes a Scion would make in order to woo a woman outside of an appeal of material value.’

It was a joke. That didn’t dull the sting, though. Not one bit.

‘I can’t promise her anything more than what any man can offer to give the woman he loves … perhaps even less,’ you confess, biting your bottom lip. ‘I know where I’m standing at that I can’t exactly say that I’m going to give her my devotion and as my Mistress … she’ll probably be entitled to even less, but even so, I … I’ll take care of her. That’s how I—’

‘All right, I think that’s enough.’

You let out a sigh of relief.

‘I can’t say I’m wholly convinced, but another syllable and I think that your Mistress over there is going to implode.’

You look to your right, finding Sansa a beet red, hand over her face in a vain attempt to hide her embarrassment.

‘Well then … my congratulations, for whatever value you wish to take it by,’ he chuckles, shoulders shaking in amusement.

>‘It means a lot.’
>‘Nothing.’
>‘Inconsequential.’
>Write-In

>>3885116
>>‘It means a lot.’

>>3885116
>>‘It means a lot.’
>>Write-In
"And now we need to hook you up with someone."

>>3885116
>”it would have meant more if you didn’t retread everything I talked to her about already like I’m totally unaware of what it means to be my mistress. There was a reason she had to push for it.”

>>3885116
>>3885147
This desu, we told her that it wasn’t going to be all flowers and sunshine.

>>3885147
this
its not like we love her or something, if anything its protocol
what scion does not have a mistress, afterall?

>>3885116
>>‘It means a lot.’

>>3885116
>‘It means a lot.’

‘It means a lot,’ you reply, honestly. ‘I mean, you can’t tell the difference between a woman and a book to save your life—’

‘And neither could you,’ he retorts playfully, chuckling, ‘but miracles happen.’

Despite the barb, you can’t help but feel amused by Lucion’s comment. ‘I suppose they do.’

Maldante sighs, running a hand through his hair as he appears to weigh this recent development. You don’t blame him one bit; after finding out that Gerard was having a conundrum regarding his own possible nuptials, you’d pretty much reacted the same way. You weren’t ignorant of your own shortcomings (and you’d been made aware of them over and over again in the last five years) either, and if you’d found yourself floored with Gerard, you couldn’t even fathom how Maldante would take finding out that you and Sansa had decided to take the route of Lord and Mistress.

‘So are you planning on showcasing your connection with the commoners and taking up a stall for the next hour or do you have a more comfortable place in mind to sow your oats?’

Sansa, her cheeks pink, glares up at Maldante as she bares her fangs.

‘Can you just not for once?’

You run a hand over your own features, feeling the heat in your ears.

‘It is a perfectly proper question,’ Maldante shoots back innocently. ‘Just look at what they print in tabloids. I would have thought that you would have read those before deciding to be his Mistress.’

‘Would you please not mash my grandfather’s exploits and mine into one mono-myth?’

‘You’re saying that as if the common public expect it not to be.’

>‘I think I’d rather keep my circle of lovers … manageable, thank you.’ (Sarcastic)
>‘The common public is stupid.’ (Dismissive)
>‘I just got my feet wet today. That’s hardly keeping decent pace.’ (Neutral)
>‘That’s what Fisher’s sister said, too.’ (Exasperated)
<Write-In

>>3886017
>>‘That’s what Fisher’s sister said, too.’ (Exasperated)

>>3886017
>>‘That’s what Fisher’s sister said, too.’ (Exasperated)

>>3886017
>‘That’s what Fisher’s sister said, too.’ (Exasperated)

>>3886017
>‘That’s what Fisher’s sister said, too.’ (Exasperated)

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‘That’s what Fisher’s sisters said, too,’ you muse, rubbing the back of your neck.

Maldante nods in affirmation. ‘It’s pretty much a stereotype at this point, if you don’t mind me saying,’ he lets out nonchalantly, glancing at the setting (which was half gone) before turning his attentions back to you. ‘Considering how the uppercrust caste is perceived by the common Imperial citizen, you’ll have to forgive us for assuming that a Trade House would essentially just be the subject with the dial turned up. Still … I won’t deny that there are certain expectations that come when one wields power, and I don’t think the average citizen thinks that restraint is in the vocabulary of Trade Houses either … not with what you and your family have to manage on a daily basis.’

You open your mouth to protest … before shutting your trap and silently conceding the point. Conservative may not have been out of place in the machinations of the Mishima … but you’d cut off your tongue before claiming that restraint was what you were raised on. Your Trade House may not have indulged in excess, but they weren’t above exercising it if the need arose. Your father’s schemes and counter-schemes, that which you had paid witness to first-hand, were more than enough to reinforce Maldante’s claims. Trade Houses didn’t play with restraint; not when it came to authority … and only with exception to the Emperor and his council.

‘No, I don’t mind at all,’ you laugh softly. ‘It’s just an astute observation, isn’t it?’

‘And what do you think, Miss Spirance?’

Rosaria squeaks as you’re given a reminder to her presence.

‘M-Me?’

‘Does your Senpai seem like the type to dive into a bout of unrestrained hedonism, surrounded by women stringing him into the last chambers of sanity and carnal indulgence?’

‘Can you not?!’ you shrill, outraged. Next to you, Sansa pinches her forehead, letting out a light, if audible, groan.

‘Oh, definitely,’ Rosaria answers, clapping her hands together.

You feel your legs evaporating at the chirpy answer, mimicking Sansa’s groan.

‘He does, however, seem the type that needs to be led rather than willingly dive in by himself, though,’ Rosaria elaborates, innocent and unnecessarily informative. ‘At least that what I understand from what Miss Fisher and Miss Wilmots told me.’

Maldante clutches his sides, laughing in a manner that you discount as most embarrassing; teeth showing, brows wrinkled … a most undignified turn, even by commoner’s standards. ‘Oh yes, that’s definitely accu—’

And he stops.

As if struck by an ancient curse, Lucion Maldante is petrified, horror and confusion creeping upon his features. His eyes stare blankly into an unknown distance, jaw slackening with every silent second …

‘What did she mean by … Fisher?’

>Whistle innocently and look away
>Exit stage left
>‘I have no idea what she’s talking about. I am but an innocent young man naive to the wiles of wicked women.’
>Write-In

>>3886220
>Whistle innocently and look away

>>3886220
>Whistle innocently and look away

>>3886220
>>Whistle innocently and look away

>>3886220
>>Whistle innocently and look away

>>3886220
>>Whistle innocently and look away

>>3886220
>>‘I have no idea what she’s talking about. I am but an innocent young man naive to the wiles of wicked women.’

>>3886220
>She means that Fisher is my Mistress

He clearly have some feelings we should be more respectful. We shouldn't ignore obvious signs. Our boy Maldante also loves her... I guess it takes one tsun to recognize another. I hope he won't break down in the middle of the part

>>3886220
>"We boned"

>>3886220
>‘I have no idea what she’s talking about. I am but an innocent young man naive to the wiles of wicked women.’

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Checking to see if I can post

>>3897188
We about to break our boy hart :(

Since I'm not banned anymore and the internet is relatively stable, I'll be running in about an hourish.

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You whistle innocently, looking away, hoping that your … friend wouldn’t pursue the topic in any further, oral capacity. It was one thing to cry out your relief at having finally attained the chops to match your title (As stereotypical as they are) … and a whole different matter to rub it in the face of your class’s valedictorian. You had had suspicions of Maldante’s affection for your former Instructor, of course (There was hardly an aspiring pilot in your class that didn’t), but you’d never really dared to venture further than the assumption that his affection stretched so far that it only served to make him as human as the rest of the dreamers. Although, if he did … that would explain why his presence was second only to yours.

To your surprise, however, you find all those details the least of your concerns.

You were—you are—more concerned with the state of your friendship. You didn’t want the fact that you’d effectively morphed his (presumed) crush into an extension of your own branch of the Mishima name to … morph your relationship with Maldante. As entertaining as it had been watching he and Sansa throw fire at one another, you’d grown to equally value his—

The thought stops there as you begin recounting the absurdity of the situation.

Five years ago, you wouldn’t—

The thought stops again.

Five years ago, none of this would or could.

A grunting sound catches your attention; your mind finds itself upon the material plane once more, surrounded by the din of party-goers and—upon finding that your neck was loosened and your lips aching from the whistling—the exhausted expression of one Lucion Maldante. You’d expected some declaration of war from his end … but all that he had going for him was a tired glance that shifted from you to Sansa to go with a pair of deflated shoulders. The most that you could say from all this, though, was that he didn’t seem to be angry with you.

‘I,’ he starts, voice catching as a strange uncertainty throws him into an unexpected pause, ‘I honestly don’t know what to say to this.’

‘You … and me both, really,’ you offer, smiling guiltily.

His expression immediately morphs into one of thoughtfulness as he strokes his chin.

‘Nope, no … I really don’t know what to make of this,’ Maldante reinforces, running his hands through his hair. ‘I don’t think I will, really. I believe that my sanity would snap if I even begin comprehending it any further than I already have.’

Not knowing what to say, you only give a timid nod of agreement.

If he and Fisher had done the deed, you’d probably—

No, you probably wouldn’t. You had enough confidence to conclude the hypothesis there, arrogant as it sounded.

‘I need a drink.’

The both of you share awkward half-smiles. Maldante gives you a small pat on the shoulder as he disappears in search of his fix.

You don't stop him.

>Reinweld
>Morrigan
>Write-In

>>3897361
>Morrigan

>>3897361
Morrigan

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Sansa, mercifully, has little to say of the exchange. So did Rosa—

‘I’m sorry,’ she starts, prompting you to stop mid-stride.

You’d spoken too soon.

>‘Perhaps next time you’d know better than to just blurt out things you shouldn’t be.’ (Irritated)
>‘It’s … fine. It was bound to happen sooner or later.’ (Resigned)
>‘For what?’ (Incredulous)
>Write-In

>>3897428
>‘It’s … fine. It was bound to happen sooner or later.’ (Resigned)

>>3897428
>>‘It’s … fine. It was bound to happen sooner or later.’ (Resigned)

>>3897428
>‘It’s … fine. It was bound to happen sooner or later.’ (Resigned)

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You let out a sigh, turning on your heel … and immediately finding your motion met by an intimidated squeak. Sansa worriedly glances at the girl, ready to come to her defence if you so much as ruffled her hair.

It was an unnecessary act of apprehension, really. Completely unnecessary.

‘It’s … fine,’ you articulate, if somewhat tiredly. ‘It was bound to come out sooner or later.’

‘But—’

‘It’s fine,’ you assert, holding up a hand and wincing as the music takes a faster rhythm and deeper timbre. ‘Really, it is.’

She opens her mouth to say something else … but immediately closes it with a nod. Thinking you’d done enough, you whirl around, trying to find your bearings again, before spying your target right where you’d left her. The bar’s stools are fully occupied; your fellow graduates (and what you hope to be just fourth years) are tended to by a balding man wearing a cap that’s practically hanging from his head in defiance of the laws of physics as they continue to sip, gargle and chat the night away. Fisher is indistinguishable from the rest, smirking and raising a glass as she enjoys the company of three young men, who, as you approach, appear to be very eager listeners of what your former Instructor had to say.

‘—but that wouldn’t increase my chances of a transfer at all?’ one of them sounds out, his voice tentative. You can’t recall the man’s name, but he did seem familiar …

Oh, right. He was one of Reinweld’s team members.

‘I can’t say for certain,’ Fisher replies neutrally, swivelling the drink in hand. ‘I’ve never really requested a transfer under those specific circumstances, but if you’re asking me, I don’t think it’d do anything at all. It’d be best to just keep your head down for three years and get your service credits up instead of persisting for a move if you’re not looking for a career in the AEGIS at all. The Survey Corps are the most direct of all the stepping stones; if I were in your position, I’d just put my hours in and leave like everyone else.’

‘There are no credentials there that I—’

‘There are no credentials that you can put in application to your desired field of work,’ she cuts him off, taking a nonchalant sip from her drink; he narrows his eyes, but doesn’t dare cut her off in return. ‘That is not of concern to the AEGIS.’

‘But maybe—’

‘No,’ she announces with a finality. ‘Right now, I don’t think that I could put a word in for you to be an in-betweener for an ODF anymore than I could type up a recommendation for you to be taken up by a Chapter. Not as things are.'

She takes another sip from her drink.

He opens his mouth briefly to renew his protest ... but ultimately closes it, throwing up a salute and wishing her a good night. Fisher raises her glass to them as they turn their backs to the bar and rejoin the festivities.

‘Can’t even enjoy a drink,’ she grumbles, her back to you.

>Write-In

>>3897494
Well maybe some company of a better sort will help then. I take it that’s been going on since you got here?

>>3897494
"Perhaps with the right company."
Whisper it right into her ear over her shoulder.

>>3897494
I'll support >>3897499.

>>3897494
>take her drink
"Well if your not going to enjoy it."

>>3897494
Backing
>>3898011

Happy Halloween, folks. Typing up right now.

‘Perhaps some good company will help sort that out,’ you suggest, loudly and pointedly, prompting the blue-haired woman to whirl around, wearing a wry smile. ‘I observe that you’ve had no shortage of admirers tonight.’

Morrigan laughs, setting her glass on the table, cheeks slightly flushed; she must have had quite a few glasses by now … that is, if she hadn’t budged from the spot since you’d arrived. She didn’t look even halfway to total inebriation, however. While distinctly more chipper than she was during her hours on duty, there was still the same sardonic twinge settled in her brows and the corners of her lips. A thought briefly flitters regarding her cybernetics and possible correlation to alcohol tolerance, but it is ultimately immaterial.

‘Observe? You keeping an eye on me now?’

You shrug lightly; while you had strayed an eye toward her now and then since your arrival, you weren’t so paranoid, insecure or worried to think that the White Hawk of Arrakis required your … well, required you. After getting to know her for the last five years, you would be an utter moron to assume the latter.

‘So … what were they asking you for?’

‘That group or the last eight?’ she replies wryly.

You wince slightly, unwilling to follow-up on the question.

‘Some want transfers, some want recounts, others want to cosy up and see if they can have me sign off on recommendations,’ Morrigan lists off tiredly, taking a light sip of her drink. ‘Which one are you here for?’

Her tone is sarcastic, playful … and tired, all at once.

>‘Actually …’ (Professional)
>‘The option that highlights my concern for my Mistress.’ (Flat)
>‘I just wanted to check how you were doing.’ (Concern)
>‘I’m here to take you away, actually. I couldn’t find a horse so we’ll have to make do on foot.’ (Playful)
>Write-In

>>3900428
>>‘I’m here to take you away, actually. I couldn’t find a horse so we’ll have to make do on foot.’ (Playful)

>>3900428
>‘I’m here to take you away, actually. I couldn’t find a horse so we’ll have to make do on foot.’ (Playful)

>>3900428
>‘I’m here to take you away, actually. I couldn’t find a horse so we’ll have to make do on foot.’ (Playful)

>>3900428
>>‘I’m here to take you away, actually. I couldn’t find a horse so we’ll have to make do on foot.’ (Playful)

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You lean in close, flashing the largest grin that you can muster.

‘I’m here to take you away, actually,’ you reply playfully, to which your Mistress’ eyes widen in response, clearly surprised by such a brazen declaration. ‘I couldn’t find a horse, mind, so we might have to make do on foot.’

Behind you, you hear an audible groan from Sansa.

You choose to ignore it. She had no right criticizing your lines.

Morrigan eyes you in a deliberate fashion, leaning against the counter and tapping her fingers against the acrylic surface as she appears to consider your proposition. You wish she’d hurry up with it, though: you begin to notice the myriad of eyes that were falling upon you with every passing second that she takes to consider her reply and right now, you weren’t sure if you were keen on indulging in any … encroaching curiosities. You are still, after all, getting used to the very idea of having Mistresses … never mind having Morrigan Fisher as one of them.

She finally reaches for her drink after what seems like a protracted sequence, gulping the remainder of her contents before pushing herself—

You extend your arm to catch her as her heels snag against the metal bars of her chair.

With her hat drooped down over one eye, you can’t help but wonder if the word adorable was one that you’d ever describe Morrigan—

‘ It would figures that she’d be attracted to the scent of wealth, of all things.’

It’s a callous comment. Loud enough for you to know where it comes from … and that it was most definitely an insult.

Morrigan, if she heard it, doesn’t show any reaction.

>Address the aside
>Ignore it and depart the bar
>Write-In

>>3900583
>Address the aside
We about to go exterminatus on this bitch as bitch nigger.

>>3900583
>Provoke Morrigan to gush over her love of Mechs and keep up with her on them proving to others that this relationship is based on shared interests rather than money.

>>3900592
>>3900593
Flipping a coin. Coin flipped.

>>3900583
>‘ It would figures that she’d be attracted to the scent of wealth, of all things.’
This is seriously a weird typo because this is not how it's typed on my word doc.

>>3900583
>Ignore it and depart the bar

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‘You know, the way you’re walking reminds me of the Hogarth’s gait,’ you muse, albeit a little too loudly for it to just be between the both of you. ‘All that’s missing is a missile pack on your hip.’

She throws you a flat stare, her arm still hooked against your elbow. ‘Are you comparing me to an Alliance Military Mech?’

You consider it for a moment.

‘Well, not wholly,’ you concede, helping her regain her balance; prosthetics such as hers always found irregular staggering hard to compensate. A confounding fact, really, given that one could break human speed and endurance records with them (In standard atmosphere and gravity coefficients of course). ‘There’s also a part of me that wants to argue that you have the grace of Jotun, but it’s offset by you being more comparable to an Ignatius in width.’

She slaps you on the chest, pushing off with a snort.

You spare a glance back at the bar, finding the thrower of the insult—a young woman with her hair done up in messy, twin curls—hurriedly turning her attentions back to her date. You do catch a curious, narrowed glance, but at the crossing of your gazes, you don’t find her eager to crane her neck any more than you are joining the Wargeass team for a scrimmage. Still, priorities are priorities, and with Fisher literally standing on her two feet proper, you allow her to unhook her arm from you.

Much to your surprise, Sansa rushes (Well, not quite, but she does move quickly enough that the word was at least half-warranted, given the circumstances) to Morrigan’s side, gently patting your former Instructor’s back as the latter pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out an ungraceful burp.

‘Is that a Dragon’s Den mixed with Red Lambo?’

‘Oh? You can tell?’

‘Never pegged you for one with that sort of … pallet.’

Morrigan wears a half-smile, stretching her left arm over her head. ‘I’m not,’ she insists, straightening her hat. ‘The bartender just told me that I looked like the sort of person that could use one.’

Despite not understanding the situation at all, you give a nod.

Sansa, more than likely fully comprehending just what Morrigan was communicating, crosses her arms over her chest … smirking. ‘So which one are you?’ she inquires, grinning too widely for your comfort. ‘The one that needs something to put them in a partying mood or the one that has a lot on their mind?’

‘Sansa,’ you hiss, furrowing your brow.

Morrigan doubles over, laughing … and lets out an almighty burp.

‘He used a little too much Red Lambo, I take it?’

Your former Instructor’s stomach rumbles in response.

‘I have no idea what you mean by that, but … probably.’

You stare at the both of them, unsure what to make of this development.

>>3900611
>‘Should I be scared or happy that the both of you are actually getting along?’
>‘I have no idea what either of you talking about.’
>‘Rosaria, what do you make of this?’
>Write-In

>>3900612
>‘Should I be scared or happy that the both of you are actually getting along?’

>>3900612
>‘I have no idea what either of you talking about.’

>>3900612
>‘Should I be scared or happy that the both of you are actually getting along?’

>>3900612
>>‘Rosaria, what do you make of this?’

>>3900612
>>‘Should I be scared or happy that the both of you are actually getting along

File: Sakuya-Shirase-v75hlRuIn-b.jpg (46 KB, 424x600)

46 KB JPG

‘Should I be worried or happy that the two of you are getting along?’

‘You’re the next Patriarch of House Mishima,’ Morrigan replies neutrally. ‘How do you want to feel?’

You blink.

It was … an excellent point, actually.

Even Rosaria seems to think so.

>Write-In

>>3900795
>Write-In
>'Happy also terffied. Rosaria, what do you make of this?’

>>3900795
>well when you put it that way, i want to feel like ive done right by the both of you

>>3900795
>>3900866
This sounds good

For a considerable amount of seconds, you find yourself … speechless. Not because you didn’t believe in its utter rightness of course (That you were, ultimately, a future Patriarch in a long line of Patriarchs), but because you … are reluctant to do so. To your own surprise, you don’t find yourself yelling a reaffirmation of her reply with your hands on your hips and a proclamation for the stars, but instead a slight slouch on your shoulders and a firm, if slightly apprehensive look from one Mistress to the other, a sigh pushing itself out of your lips

‘Well, that … yes, you could put it that way,’ you let out, your stammer audibly distinct despite your best efforts; you can only hope that your cheeks aren’t as pink as you suspect them to be. ‘It’s just that I want to feel that I’ve done right by the both of you … so far, anyway …’

Sansa and Morrigan snicker as they look away. Perhaps it would be best to take charge of the situation now. Especially with no one of an external background was paying attention. It was—is—your responsibility to do as much, after all.

‘I’m—’

‘You know, you’re just absolutely precious,’ Morrigan titters, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘It’s not every cycle one gets to see a Scion jumping toe-to-toe trying to figure out the wiles of his women.’

The heat in your cheeks follows her statement, prompting you to grit your teeth and turn your nose up.

‘Expecting me to be an expert in subject I haven’t concerned myself by prior is to your peril, not mine,’ you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. ‘You’re stating facts as if you think I’m unaware of their implications for my person … which I am decidedly not, thank you very much.’

The both of them stare at you … before doubling over, covering their mouths to keep the laughter from singing to the stars.

Even Rosaria, silent as she is, throws you a sympathetic look.

Shockingly, you’re not sure whether to join in their amusement or to showcase how mortified you should be.

You wouldn’t have been, before.

‘Perhaps,’ Fisher starts, wiping away tears, ‘if one didn’t spend his free time re-enacting the Battle of the Southern Arceus Archipelago and actually trying to live up to one’s name, then maybe they wouldn’t be so clueless.’

Sansa giggles again. You can’t help but rolling your eyes at the hypocrisy.

Closing at least half the distance between you and the girls, you raise an eyebrow as a particularly conspicuous memory scratches at a counter. ‘You do realize that all this started with you making plasma cycle sounds so loud I could hear them from outside your office, don’t you?’

Morrigan brings down her cap, hiding her eyes, but failing to conceal the heat in her cheeks.

Score one for the Scion.

Perhaps it was time to make a move on. You could talk while you walked.

>Ask her about the political climate
>Ask her about her Delta and Iona
>Make small talk about Mechs
>Ask her about your career prospects as the others had
>Write-In

>>3901995
>Ask her about the political climate.

>>3901995
>>Make small talk about Mechs
might as well talk something actually interesting

You’re not unused to the odd look. You are, however, unused to the why of the myriad of odd looks upon your person. Flanked by Sansa Wilmots, Morrigan Fisher and one former Colony Fleet Inhabitant by the name of Rosaria, sticking out like a sore thumb was probably the most understated way to describe your current … predicament; especially with Morrigan Fisher towing herself by your side, strutting with her artificial limbs. Now that you actually had time to think about it … she was probably drawing most of the attention, being the White Hawk of Arrakis and all that.

‘You know, I’m sure you have an opinion on what’s going on in the Silver Hall,’ you start, trying to sound as casual as you can manage. ‘What do you think Sesshouhaku Jinatsu’s going to say when he finally has a cast on him?’

Sansa groans.

‘Why do you always use politics as your go-to?’

You give her a flat stare, pointing both your index fingers at yourself. Sansa grumbles, but otherwise ceases her protest. In all honesty, if she couldn’t make sense of just how the politics of the Imperium and what they meant for the Trade Houses, directly or indirectly, you feared how she would cope once she’d fully immersed herself in her new reality as your Mistress, friend or no. It wasn’t as if you were perpetuating gossip, either. One had to be on one’s toes when it came to the Silver Hall … and especially so when one was from a Trade House, never mind a member of the main branch.

‘Five minutes of disagreeing, two minutes of ranting using an incident from his youth as a metaphor, a reference to Arrakis because that’s something he can’t let go and maybe something about how the Emperor’s mercy is the only thing stopping him from declaring martial law and a zero tolerance policy.’

To your astonishment, Rosaria is the one that breaks out into laughter first.

‘He does have a rather predictable tendency, doesn’t he?’

‘They all do,’ Fisher continues, not missing a beat. ‘The Silver Hall deliberates thousands of decisions with every sneeze, but once you get past the hot air, it’s not really hard to think where a Maester would stick their biases when you’ve heard them enough times.’

You … agree, if only partly. There were still many unknown factors when it came down to a decision.

‘Probably,’ you concede, giving a slight shrug. ‘He did push for the increased industry on the option pack production, though. You have to give him that much.’

‘Why do you think Arrakis is such a sore spot for him? He was part of the coalition that endorsed the initial drive.’

You move to apologize quickly, worried you’d touched a sore spot.

‘I didn’t mean to—’

‘No,’ she sighs, adjusting her cap. ‘I know you didn’t.’

‘Well,’ you start again. ‘I don’t think anyone could’ve seen that coming.’

‘Rebellion?’ she jokes, smirking, despite the subject matter.

You shake your head. ‘Reneging on a previous agreement,’ you clarify.

‘That’s what concerns you?’

>‘Trade House Mishima had a sizeable investment in the sector.’
>‘Um … yeah?’
>‘The economics of the Imperium are dependent on entities being honourable to the letter.’
>‘Actually … now that I think about it, I’m just glad you got out of there alive.'
>Shrug
>Write-In

>>3902061
>‘Trade House Mishima had a sizeable investment in the sector.’

>>3902061
>>‘Trade House Mishima had a sizeable investment in the sector.’

>>3902061
>Not the only thing that concerns me, no. Your life is obviously important. However the Imperial economy only functions if the entities involved keep to the letter of thier agreements. It’s why the trade houses are so anal retentive about thier word. They stop doing so and the economy and a large part of the Imperial war footing go poof.

>>3902061
>>‘Trade House Mishima had a sizeable investment in the sector.’

‘Trade House Mishima had a sizeable investment in that sector,’ you mention candidly. ‘It was why my grandfather insisted on personally bestowing your honours. You pretty much saved that sector’s economic significance to the Trade House. The union contracts were made in confidence to the loan and the implication of an asset shift once the industry made certain marks. If you hadn’t held against the siege, the economic landscape of the system and the Houses that placed their thumbs on that contract would be vastly different. Arrakis’ state as a system deigned as a primary industry centre would have been … non-existent and my father would probably have a few cracked viewing ports trying to negotiate with an illegal union action.’

‘Was it a course of action that you deemed ultimately necessary?’

Sansa is the one that sounds out … because of course she’d be the one to do so. If Reinweld was here, you have no doubt he’d shift the course of the discussion with a diatribe of his own. Still … it wasn’t as if you didn’t understand Sansa’s perspective, either. You are very much aware just where she hails from. It would be disrespectful and demeaning not to rise to her inquiry.

‘Necessary? No,’ you answer; the frown that she wears in response almost prompts you to a light snicker. ‘Lawful? Without bias? In adherence? Yes. A tabled discussion could have been made in response and the relevant administrative departments would have gladly tabled a re-negotiation of terms in good faith. All of which was rendered moot by the aggression of the unions in the system engaging in open rebellion and initiating warfare blackout protocols.’

You almost curse your non-committal tone; you’d briefly forgotten just who was at the spear-tip of that open rebellion … and who made a name for herself by organizing a defence against the millions that bore down upon her. Fisher’s features tighten slightly, but otherwise gives no other indication of your … observation.

‘The unions made their move in response to increased presence from the Trade Houses,’ Morrigan chimes in, her tone neutral. ‘Prior to our arrival, many of the belligerents believed that it was only a matter of time before a hostile takeover; that was the conclusion reached in regards to the disabling of the beacons.’

‘I can’t speak for the other houses, but my father believes any strategy that has to resort to a barrel of a cannon over legislative truth when it comes to business only highlights a failure or an inability to make one’s case … strong, to speak.’

‘Even when it comes to the welfare of the common man,’ Sansa comments, sounding rather … accusatory.

‘That was not an objective that we sought to fulfil. Nor was it on our agenda at all.’

‘Then what was the point of Arrakis at all?’

>>3903818
>‘I won’t argue what the true price of war is with you. Neither will I argue that my House is not a party to your implications. I will, however, emphasize that it wasn’t made with twirling moustaches, but in reverence of the contracts that we were all bound to. We did not break the agreement. The Unions did.’ (Conscious and Resolute)
>‘You think that such questioning would stifle my zeal? I have no regrets … no guilt of what my House sought out to achieve, regardless of the price. Ultimately, it was made in the faith that the breach would never come, but come it did … and we responded appropriately. It wasn’t a necessary decision, but a pragmatic one.’ (Pragmatic Zealotry)
>‘The point of Arrakis was to establish that as benefactors bound by terms, they were bound in debt to us. The conflict was unnecessary, but we weren’t the ones that drew first blood, regardless of what the actions of the Houses implied on the whole. People died, but when you execute such an action so such a scale … there are consequences.’ (Adjudicate)
>Refuse to answer
>Write-In

>>3903827
>‘The point of Arrakis was to establish that as benefactors bound by terms, they were bound in debt to us. The conflict was unnecessary, but we weren’t the ones that drew first blood, regardless of what the actions of the Houses implied on the whole. People died, but when you execute such an action so such a scale … there are consequences.’ (Adjudicate)

>>3903827
>‘You think that such questioning would stifle my zeal? I have no regrets … no guilt of what my House sought out to achieve, regardless of the price. Ultimately, it was made in the faith that the breach would never come, but come it did … and we responded appropriately. It wasn’t a necessary decision, but a pragmatic one.’ (Pragmatic Zealotry)

>>3903827
>>‘The point of Arrakis was to establish that as benefactors bound by terms, they were bound in debt to us. The conflict was unnecessary, but we weren’t the ones that drew first blood, regardless of what the actions of the Houses implied on the whole. People died, but when you execute such an action so such a scale … there are consequences.’ (Adjudicate)

>>3903827
>‘I won’t argue what the true price of war is with you. Neither will I argue that my House is not a party to your implications. I will, however, emphasize that it wasn’t made with twirling moustaches, but in reverence of the contracts that we were all bound to. We did not break the agreement. The Unions did.’ (Conscious and Resolute)

>>3903827
>‘I won’t argue what the true price of war is with you. Neither will I argue that my House is not a party to your implications. I will, however, emphasize that it wasn’t made with twirling moustaches, but in reverence of the contracts that we were all bound to. We did not break the agreement. The Unions did.’ (Conscious and Resolute)

>>3903827
>>‘I won’t argue what the true price of war is with you. Neither will I argue that my House is not a party to your implications. I will, however, emphasize that it wasn’t made with twirling moustaches, but in reverence of the contracts that we were all bound to. We did not break the agreement. The Unions did.’ (Conscious and Resolute)

You stop in your tracks.

‘I won’t argue what justifies the full price of a conflict, of a war,’ you let out, feeling oddly tired. ‘Neither will I, however, argue the innocence of the Mishima as a party to what you deem to be an unnecessary cost. It’d be naive, however, to think that we went out of our way to push the bureaucracy in order to initiate a conflict just for the sake of it. We’re not moustache-twirling villains that decide to condemn the populace just because we can. The decision was made in adherence … and reverence of the contracts that we held ourselves to. It would have been the same if it were the other way around. We did not move to break or ignore the agreement. The Unions did.’

‘Is that what the Mishima tell themselves?’

‘The root cause of the conflict was a contract dispute on terms that the Unions saw as unfair,’ Morrigan suddenly speaks up, practically rounding on the shorter woman. ‘I may not know my way around the terminology for sovereignty and rights regarding the dispute itself, but if I wanted to deal a first strike in the name of my own economic interests, it wouldn’t involve a third party that was executing a minor pacification detail in what was a volatile political situation highly populated civilian area.’

You move to stop Morrigan, but … for some reason or other, cease mid-action.

Sansa falters slightly, her expression remorseful but otherwise … resolute.

‘Whatever your arguments against the Trade Houses and their selfishness and their transgressions are rendered moot by the truth that they weren’t the first ones to resort to open warfare,’ Morrigan continues, her tone even; you sense neither anger nor the slightest sliver of irritation from her voice. If anything, it is akin to a mother lecturing a child. ‘You can have a protest against the lop-sidedness of the agreements or how unfair the circumstances were to the unions to force their hand … but the Trade Houses never resorted to detonating one of their own population centres as their opening move for the sake of proving a point. Crying about injustices and how a lack of options pushes one into making desperate decisions is one thing … it’s a whole different issue when you’re willing to be the first one to exercise so-called military might to establish one’s leverage on the issue.’

Rosaria glances worriedly from one Mistress to the other, looking quite possibly … more concerned than you.

‘And you … saw fit to respond in kind?’

To your surprise, Morrigan grins … and lifts her right arm—her prosthetic—for Sansa to see.

‘Isn’t that a question you should be asking the ones you believe to be the victims instead of who you are adamant to have been the aggressors?’

Sansa looks away, biting her bottom lip.

>Allow them to clear the air
>Cut the discussion short
>Write-In

>>3904179
>Allow them to clear the air

>>3904179
>Allow them to clear the air

>>3904179
>>Allow them to clear the air

‘Having been here as long as you have, I thought that you would have been able to dissect the truth of conflict and the nature of humans enough to throw out the black and white and the rights and wrongs of such a discussion,’ Fisher goes on, her tone strangely … gentle despite her words. ‘War isn’t clean and the logics of conflict rarely correlate with the accepted thresholds of human sanity. You can’t be afford to be so naive that you’d throw your sympathies out for the sake of tears in tribute … not if it’s just to reaffirm that you’re in tune with the idea of a grievance that’s gone unanswered by words but stamped by blood. If that was the case, it’d be just as much an injustice to not weep for the one’s willingly doing the dying.’

Sansa’s cheeks sink as her brows furrow. You’re not sure, however, if Sansa was hurt by Fisher’s words or just deep in thought and keying her own reply.

You had chosen not to interfere.

‘I don’t … I’m not denouncing your efforts,’ Sansa starts again, letting out a sigh, ‘but I am trying to highlight that the situation was a stacked deck against the unions—against Arrakis itself—and it feels like everything was played out for the ultimate—and convenient—benefit of the Houses than any actual conclusion that could have been of mutual benefit for the parties involved. Isn’t there anything that you have to say about being thrust into a conflict that could have been avoided with at least some … wiggle room?’

‘Is that a fair question to ask those that have given their own considerations prior? Attacking the Trade Houses just because they make for easier targets instead of looking down your nose at the unions who entered an agreement that they had no intention of honouring … and the lives that they were willing to sacrifice to keep that economic autonomy theirs to hold?’

‘And if I may ask … just what pushed them into making that decision?’

‘Depends how you look at it: do you believe it to be sovereignty or greed that answers your question more conveniently?’

Sansa’s eyes widen, taken aback.

‘I don’t bother with the politics of the situation in application to the task at hand,’ Fisher powers on, straightening her cap and keeping a neutral gaze on her fellow Mistress. ‘You can’t be unbiased when it comes down it … none of us can. We always have something to say, but as far as I cared, my job as the last remaining pilot of my Chapter was to defend that city and everyone inside it. That was what I sought out to do. Personally, I believe the what and the how of it all is meaningless drivel. If you’re trying to frame right and wrong so adamantly, I believe my Secondary Lance Commander can claim the rights as the conflict’s first casualty … and it wasn’t the Empire or the Trade Houses that self-destructed the reactor.’

>>3904467
>Allow them to finish up
>Cut the discussion short
>Write-In

>>3904467
>Allow them to finish up

I think breaking it up now would end up with emotion all bundled up inside, let them have it

>>3904467
>Allow them to finish up

>>3904467
>>Allow them to finish up
All in!

File: Morrigan 9.jpg (84 KB, 800x990)

84 KB JPG

Sansa, to her credit, doesn’t falter at all.

‘So you don’t believe that there was a rightful basis for the rebellion?’

‘Not at all,’ Fisher answers, crossing her arms underneath her chest as a sardonic, yet reserved smile stays upon her features. ‘If we’re talking about rightful rebellions, there was no malicious breach of agreements or unlawful action by the parties they were rebelling against. By the legislative framework, the fault lay in a refusal to abide by a prior agreement that the party deemed important enough to escalate by means of open warfare. If I had to comment on it, I’d say it has more in common with an inability to understand their own terms or underestimating the gravity of their dues. You’re correct in pin-pointing that it is a rebellion … you are wrong in implying that they have any legal right to it. Then again … politics was never my strong suit; if you buried yourself in enough text regarding the matter, I’m sure you’ll be able to twist it to suit your point just as the others before you have.’

You wince. That last statement was definitely one of condescension.

You find yourself impressed that Sansa doesn’t take the bait.

‘Are you so blindly loyal to that badge that you don’t question the righteousness of your cause at all?’

At that, Fisher howl; so much so that she doubles over, clutching her sides as you find a curious crowd gathering to inspect just what would cause the White Hawk of Arrakis to be so … audible in her amusement. You glance around, silently wishing Fisher would take it down a notch … and immediately getting your wish as she raises herself back to full height, placing her hands on her hips before leaning in slightly. She’s so close to Sansa now that the visor of her cap almost touches the shorter woman’s forehead.

‘Are you implying that I believe that my cause is righteous?’

Sansa’s cheeks turn pink as she looks away.

‘You’re telling me that you believe that you’re not in the right in the seat of the cockpit?’

Morrigan smiles mysteriously.

‘I … believed that if I refused to pull the trigger, the other side would only have an easier time riddling me with holes. You’re confusing the ethical paradoxes of a legislative body with the right to responsive force. Coming from someone who should know that truth more than others, you can at least understand that much, can’t you?’

‘If you don’t believe that, then why—’

‘Because I’d be dead, of course,’ she giggles. ‘I think my right to preserving that much trumps whatever is written in stone. Or did you expect me to just lie down and type up an appeal to humanity when they dropped half the depot on my Mech?’

‘O-Of course not,’ Sansa protests. ‘I just …’

She spares you a brief, desperate glance.

‘Is it really that hard to … not take that road.’

Morrigan concedes, much to your surprise. ‘It’s just one that isn’t an ideal option when the odds are quite literally 3,000 to 1.’

>‘Oh, right, you were outnumbered in the siege 3,000 to 1 …’ (Nerd)
>‘Politics aside, I honestly can’t believe how you held out for all those weeks, those months.’ (Redirect)
>‘Yeah, they’re definitely not … ideal odds.’ (Try to diffuse any lingering points of escalation)
>‘Well, you wouldn’t be the White Hawk of Arrakis if you hadn’t pulled it off, Instructor.’ (Praise)
>Write-In

>>3905530
>>‘Politics aside, I honestly can’t believe how you held out for all those weeks, those months.’ (Redirect)

Time to pacify~

>>3905530
>‘Politics aside, I honestly can’t believe how you held out for all those weeks, those months.’ (Redirect)

>>3905530
>‘Oh, right, you were outnumbered in the siege 3,000 to 1 …’ (Nerd)
NERRRRRRRRRRD

>>3905530
>>‘Oh, right, you were outnumbered in the siege 3,000 to 1 …’ (Nerd)

>>3905530
>‘Oh, right, you were outnumbered in the siege 3,000 to 1 …’ (Nerd)

>>3905530
>>‘Oh, right, you were outnumbered in the siege 3,000 to 1 …’ (Nerd)

‘Oh, right,’ you recount, absently holding up your fingers as the battle number played out in your mind, ‘you were out-numbered 3,000 to 1, weren’t you?’

Morrigan cocks an eyebrow as she turns to face you, hands on her hips and smile on her lips.

‘That’s what you’re focused on?’

Your cheeks turn pink again. You scratch your jaw, wondering just how the fanatic in you had failed to be kept in check. Morrigan’s amusement at your choice of specific engrossment being the sheer impossibility and execution of her feat is matched by the mortification that, of all the things that you could have commented upon regarding Arrakis that were at least halfway dignified or informative … you’d chosen to leap right in to the fairy tale of triumph against the demon of overwhelming odds. A siege situation. A lone survivor. A rag-tag bunch of mechanics, patrol officers and an ODF that hadn’t so much stared down the barrel of a cannon. The fear. The adrenaline. The cry of victory achieved by the skin of one’s teeth.

By the Emperor, you truly are a … nerd.

‘M-More or less,’ you stammer, rubbing the back of your neck. ‘I mean … it was probably what? Closer to 8,000 to 1? I mean … if we are … only counting those that served beside you with an actual background in military operations, of course … and if we’re not … counting the advantage the belligerents had in logistics, supplementary industry, ships …’

Morrigan’s amusement vanishes as she regards you with a flat look. Sansa does the same, eyeing you with equal parts incredulity and disgust. The crowd, which had gathered in curiosity, begin dispersing and reforming the moving chains of a party line, their interest thoroughly obliterated by your interjection and interpolation of details regarding a siege campaign that had more of a nesting ground in lecture halls than it had any claim in casual conversation … never mind as small talk at a party venue.

You congratulate yourself. You’d pretty much killed the mood by being a total geek. Your parents would be proud.

But still …

‘Is no one here aware of how monumental an achievement it was? It’s right out of a—’

Before you know it, you find your arms hooked by your Mistresses, who had, in an instant, elected to take a joint decision to prevent you from dragging what was left of your dignity through the mire of Mech lore fanaticism. Rosaria follows behind (in front of you, really: Sansa and Morrigan had hooked onto you facing the opposite direction), unsure whether to help you or allow the two girls to continue with their course of action.

Perhaps you’d made the correct decision regarding your choice of extension of the Mishima branches.

If they could keep you from self-destructing, that was pretty much an instant return on investment already.

Rosaria, trailing behind, gives you a sympathetic look.

>Write-In

>>3906678
>All things considered I am a really luck man.

>>3906678
>>Write-In
Shrug helplessly at Rosaria. "Help, help, I'm being oppressed." /deadpan

>>3906678
Smile, give two thumbs up to Rosaria

File: Shut Up Will You Shut Up.jpg (29 KB, 640x360)

29 KB JPG

>>3906682
SHUT UP. WILL YOU SHUT UP.

You are deep in thought, wondering if this was what it was like being oppressed of an opinion. Being dragged through a crowd by two women who are embarrassed for you wasn’t a bad way to go about it, especially with another one tailing you with a sympathetic look that plainly said that she would be willing to relinquish you of the current consequences should she have the ability to do so. However, the more rational and … worldly portion of your psyche interjects that by all the considerations of the Empire, this was hardly anything resembling oppression … and more the course of action undertaken of two women to prevent you from dishing out second-hand embarrassment as you had by trying to rationalize your attempt at lecturing the plebeians in regards to the proud history of Mech combat.

Was it really that bad?

An unceremonious release later, you find yourself reeling from the two withering gazes of your Mistresses. You are away from prying eyes now, sanctuary acquired under the roof of a restaurant by the name of Jettster’s. The scent was distinctly Kaminoan … as was the décor. You’d deemed the place as tacky and wall to wall with depictions of ancient fishing methods and their prey; the most you could say of it was that it was at least less packed than Muad’Dib’s was on a good day.

To you, that was a warning sign.

An eatery with few eaters meant it wasn’t worth a neck in the door, period.

‘You really can’t stop thinking about Mechs for even one second, can you?’

You move to protest, indignant. One second? Of course you could.

‘I’m not saying that it’s the only aspect of my character,’ you start, dusting yourself off, ‘but you’re expecting me to think about the Arrakis Affair and not instantly refer to the fact that I’m standing before the woman who organised a defensive force as the sole survivor of a Chapter on her first assignment who eked out a victory that was a miracle in itself … that detailed a hail of dozens upon dozens of Mechs upon an industrial centre with nothing but a supply depot that wasn’t even a hundredth of the sheer firepower at the disposal of the rebels? I’m just giving credit where credit’s due.’

Sansa pinches the bridge of her nose as Morrigan’s lips curl slightly upward.

‘You really can’t stop thinking about Mechs for even one second, can you?’

You snort and click your tongue, unwilling to answer. Morrigan giggles behind a wrist, a mysterious shine in her eyes.

‘Now, now,’ Morrigan placates, eyes amused. ‘I suppose it’s just one of the things that we have to accept.’

>[Make laser noises in mockery]
>Roll your eyes but say nothing
>Write-In

>>3906774
>>[Make laser noises in mockery]
"Pew-ty as charged."

>>3906774
>[Make laser noises in mockery]

>>3906774
>>[Make laser noises in mockery]