Scene Listing || Scene Schedule || Scene Schedule RSS
Owner Pose
Midway Pacific Ocean
Depth: 482 meters
Coordinates: Unknown.

    At the bottom of the sea, littered with stone and sediment, this location is also home to the crumpled hulk of a battle-scarred warship. Its hull blown open, its upper works destroyed, the sides crumpled when it slammed into the ocean floor so many years ago. It now rusts quietly away, a relic of a forgotten era.

    A figure in a white dress rests on the ruined works of the hanger deck, the wooden flight deck long since destroyed by time. The woman reclines amidst the wreckage, almost as one would upon a conventional throne. Her eyes closed, her hair and gown fluttering in the currents, she appears peaceful. A ghostly pale corpse committed to the tomb around her.

    With no apparent provocation, those eyes open, narrow slits of glowing crimson in the dim subocean light. The telltale ping of sonar chimes through the metal and water around her, and she listens for its response.
Kalia     Midway's sonar reports someone directly behind her.

    Kalia's "natural" form, that white-skinned, white-eyed specter in ragged clothes floats there, appeared out of thin air. Well, water. They seem to be looking around them like they didn't expect the water, but they're not bubbling like a man about to drown, and not being crushed like something made of flesh, so it's a good sign.

    Perhaps the most striking detail is that, due to the waters, their scarf, their coat, their rags, float out of place to reveal their body underneath. The torso that's just a spinal cord, the missing arm, the lack of lower jaw. They'd look like a corpse, if their eyes didn't gleam with such obvious life. "Life". Something like that, anyway.

    Their voice is telepathic - probably because they don't have a lower jaw and all that. Also probably because of the water.

    "Unexpected. Uncomfortable. We should have thought about that before arriving," they say, their one arm struggling and failing to adjust their scarf into its proper position.

    "Well, that's fine. Hello. You feel like Haguro. You must be this Midway she talked about. Do you mind if we ask a few questions?"

    That's right, that's all this was. Kalia was curious and wanted answers, but they wouldn't complain about being in close proximity to so much negativity, either. It's a buffet. It flows towards her rather noticeably, like she's a magnet.
Midway     Eyes close, a thoughtful noise escaping. After a moment, Midway leans forward and rises to her feet in a slow, deliberate fashion. As she turns, her eyes remain closed, "To come directly to me, so brazenly. You are either a genius or a fool." Those scarlet eyes open, and though her mouth is concealed behind the brace of spines, her eyes almost look like she may be evaluating the swiftest path to violent murder.

    She does not make a threatening motion, though. The pale woman simply stands, her dress and hair fluttering around her as she examines the carcass-like spirit before her. The negativity that comprises her being feels that tug, that slight drain, but there is simply so much that she does not concern herself with it. To someone who feeds on negative emotion, this person must stand out like a beacon even down here.

    "I am Midway." A hand lifts, fingers curled upwards, "The Princess of Progress. It is not every day that someone other than my minions reaches these depths and announces themselves with words."

    Her fingers straighten, and she gestures to the demon, "Curious. Identify yourself."
Kalia     "We are Kalia," the specter answers, directly, as she had with Haguro before. "We were drawn here by your feelings. Or... maybe the feelings of the depths. We're not totally sure," they add, looking towards the husk of a ship underneath them and the ocean floor past it.

    "It is nice to meet you, Midway. Haguro told us a lot about you." Or more precisely, Haguro felt a lot about Midway. She didn't exactly say most of it.

    "We would like to know more about you. About the ongoing conflict. About the feud between the admiral and you "monsters"."

    Kalia pauses, and then adds: "We theorized you did Haguro a favor. You opened her eyes. Now she can see what people around her are really like. Is that right?"
Midway     "The feeling of war," Midway addresses that uncertainty first. Her hand lowers to her side, eyes unblinking, "Pain and suffering. Rage and madness. Hopelessness and hatred. This is what draws you." Her head inclines slightly, "This is the sensation you are currently drawing from me. For this is all that I am."

    Her gaze lifts slightly into a less immediatley unwelcoming gaze, "You speak of the Ne-class heavy cruiser. No, I had no intention of 'opening her eyes'." Her fingers curl slowly into a cage, "It was a pragmatic act of destruction. It disrupted the enemy fleet. Crushed their morale. Destroyed their strategy." Those fingers close fully into a fist, "And routed them despite their advantage."

    Midway's hand lowers, "That she has returned as her true self is of little concern to me. What is concerning is her resistance to join this fleet."
Kalia     "We see," Kalia answers, finding Midway's own rather unexpected, but indeed very pragmatic. So they're similar, then? But if they had to guess, Kalia would surmise Midway is even less "human" than they are. That's not a bad thing.

    "She's conflicted. Confused. You probably already knew that. She can't even decide if she should hate you or not. You might still have a chance at turning her, but we can't personally decide what creates better odds for you."

    Kalia isn't afforded quite the mobility that Midway has, but at least they can move their head to keep fidgeting with that scarf. "On one hand we think if the admiral sunk, it would help Haguro and you tremendeously. On the other, we think if you're the one to sink her, Haguro's resolve might strengthen and she'll oppose you fully."

    War isn't their specialty, though.
    They're clearly in the presence of someone who thought about this already, or at least must have considered it.

    "We told Haguro she should sink the admiral herself. She seemed on the verge of entertaining it. She needs a push."
Midway     A deeper dive would reveal it pretty readily: There is absolutely nothing human about this Princess of Progress. Her head tilts back slightly as she considers the words offered. So, the cruiser is unable to make a decision. It is ruminated over without any words of her own, at least until the woman's head tilts forward once more.

    "Whichever impact sinking that battleship may have, doing so is inevitable. This war cannot be won so long as that ship remains at Hikari." Something scratches at the side of the wreckage, which she ignores, "We are the winning side. We are the originals. We will not lose to a mutiny."

    Somewhere near the bow, a hand reaches over the railing and hauls up a pale face framed by a black hood, eyes gleaming pink, a broad shark-like smile catching the dim light. Midway ignores it-- because it's just Re-Class, whose smile disappears when she sees her boss has company. Keeping her distance, the smaller Abyssal simply hauls herself up and sits down way over there, legs folded together.

    "Doing so would undeniably display loyalty to the Abyssal Navy. A cruiser will have a difficult time challenging a battleship on her own," Midway states, "This is the likely source of her trepidation." Gaze lowering slightly, she casts her eyes in shadow once more, "Perhaps my comrade, the Foreigner, may be of particular use here. Acting directly on my part will derail the attempt, without doubt."
Kalia     "We agree. The fate of all things is to die. That isn't a bad thing. That isn't something to be fought. But sometimes, the fight can be very entertaining," Kalia responds, before explaining fully.

    "We have seen peasants rise in anger and kill their king against all odds. We have seen tyrants push through all opposition in a desperate gambit and come out on top. We have seen dying men defy their fate and claim lives to stall their end. Those things are beautiful, too. Those emotions are pure and true. We like to help people attain what they really want, at all costs. Because we have nothing. We want nothing. But seeing people give in for something? We like that."

    That did have a purpose.

    "We want to help Haguro. But we don't want to "fix" Haguro. We don't think there's anything to fix."

    Like that, it almost sounds noble. Almost.

    Kalia's gaze shifts from Midway to Re-Class, curious. "Who is the Foreigner? Are they like you two?"

    Ah, come to think of it...

    "We'd like to ask, actually. What are you? Haguro is a ship. You feel bigger. Purer. You aren't struggling."
Midway     Through the entirety of the demon's explanation, Midway's eyes remain fixed on it. There is no visible reaction. She doesn't seem displeased, there's some interest there. But she doesn't even blink. There's some contradictory nobility in this statement, but she feels no need to draw attention to it.

    Instead, the Princess merely folds her arms, her expression softening from tense evaluation to something more approximating relaxation, "You are correct. There is nothing to fix. Even if the Ne-class cruiser returns to her Kanmusu identity, I will simply sink her again. Over and over. As many times as it takes."

    Her head inclines, "The Foreigner is a useful ally and tradesman. Should you wish to do business with him, it is a trade agreement that must be brokered. I will leave it to you to determine his nature."

    There are some surprises even Midway won't spoil.

    "I already told you what I am," The statement is matter-of-fact. And even Re-Class in the distance feels like...well, not quite 'a' ship, but 'ships' would be more accurate. She shifts her posture, "Pain and suffering. Rage and madness. Hopelessness and hatred. These are war. These are what I am." Head inclining, she casts her eyes in shadow once more. Cracks reveal themselves on her arms and legs, pulsing crimson, "I am War."
Kalia     Even more similar than the specter thought.

    "We thought that was just waxing poetic. In retrospect, it doesn't seem your type. We apologize for doubting," Kalia says, looking between the two before looking back down at the sea floor.

    "Did you come into being like we did? One moment you didn't exist, the next you did, as if lingering wills and emotions had become something more overnight?"

    Whether or not they share origins, Kalia would be forced to admit Midway seems far more acclimated to their state. Maybe they've had much more time to do it. Or maybe Kalia's form just isn't able to reach that purity.

    That almost angers them.

    "And what will you do next? We could feel it across the seas. Haguro isn't the only conflicted soul. The Hikari Fleet is splintered. There is infighting. We could feel several vessels drifting, confused, desperate. Like everything they believed was being challenged. It seems merely mentioning Haguro's name on open bands causes immediate conflict between countless other parties. Are you going to use that to your advantage?"
Midway     "I exist because Humanity exists," Midway states, "My birthplace is one of their bloodiest battlefields. Lingering and growing for decades until the fury reached a point at which I manifested as you see before you." Her posture remains stable, "Not sudden, as you describe. A 'slow boil' would be more accurate."

    Maybe that's the secret. Although asking about her origin is a bit unusual, she sees no harm in sharing it. This is not something Midway feels could be used against her.

    "For now, I wait. War is sometimes a matter of patience." Her eyes close, "I intend to destroy all enemies that stand before me. The fragmentation of the Hikari Defense Fleet is an unexpected but welcome windfall of sinking the heavy cruiser. One must stoke the embers carefully, or else risk blowing them out entirely."

    Eyes open, "Hm hm hm... If you wish to see something more entertaining, refer to the cruiser as I do: Heavy Cruiser Ne-Class. Their value of individuality produces the most delightfully indignant response."
Kalia     Slow. That explains being more comfortable in their role. They matured into it, as far as that word is applicable. Or... something like that. Being a weird metaphysical spirit sadly doesn't make one an expert in the field. Kalia was just curious.

    "We understand. Pushing too hard or too suddenly frequently makes people snap out of their daze. Bloodthirst and a desire for vengeance, fanned too quickly, might break the illusion and make the people question their way of thinking. 'This isn't like me' 'Did I really say that' 'Would I really do this'. If you push too quickly you might unify them or lose your advantage."

    But would it matter? Can Midway even die, or would she just reform after some time? Maybe a new spirit of war would take her place. This doesn't seem like a war that can be stopped by just sinking the Abyssals. Death, entropy, etc.

    "Ne-Class...?" Kalia peers, curiously, at the terminology. "We understand, but we're curious what the names stand for. We heard Re-Class being used as well, on the radio."
Midway     "Precisely," Midway states simply. Her posture shifts slightly, arms remaining folded as she regards the ghost before her, "Classifications. Little more. Each class has their own weaponry and capabilities. Some are more unique than others."

    "Like me!" Re-Class thrusts a hand up from where she's seated, "One of a kind, Aviation Battleship Re-Class, at your service!" Eyes closing, the smaller girl grins a wide shark-toothed grin, "I'm a bit of a weird case, you won't see more than one of me. Just call me Mama's Little Monster."

    Midway turns just enough to cast a single eye's worth of a glower in her minion's direction, before returning her attention to Kalia, "The name itself is unimportant. Merely its purpose in organization."
Kalia     The personality clash is suddenly very real. That answers some questions about Abyssals too!

    "We see. So each Abyssal can be somewhat unique, but it's best to not give them that luxury to keep them from becoming too autonomous?"

    It makes sense. And it's of no importance to Kalia, because negative feelings are negative feelings whether they're from individuals or numbers.

    "We will keep that in mind. I have one last question," they finally say, shifting to float closer to Midway. Not that much, but the ghost seems to want a close look into her eyes.

    "What happens when you win? When every ship is sunk. What do you do with the humans? And what do you do after that?"

    Whether or not the conflict CAN end doesn't matter. Kalia is sure the nature of an infinite universe means that, hypothetically, infinite life will always join it to counterbalance the infinite losses that came before. It's more a question to see what Midway is after, because Kalia wants a frame of reference.

    They're unable to think that far.
    But at least, hearing other people do it, it's close enough.
Midway     Midway's posture changes again, facing this demon directly once more. She doesn't pursue the interpretation of her words, there is no need to correct it. Instead, she addresses the final question directly and concisely.

    "When every ship is destroyed and the oceans are mine," She unfolds a hand, fingers splayed out, "I will begin taking the land." Her fingers curl into a clawed cage, "It is not the ocean I crave, but the destruction of the humans who dared to create a being such as myself." That hand has become a fist, the metal bracing on her knuckles creaking.

    "And then I move on to the next war. And the next. Until all is destroyed and I cease to be."
Kalia     Kalia processes that response for a while.
    Eventually they manage to form words in response. "Self-destructive. But we can't argue with the emotions that fuel the desire. We look forward to seeing you on the field. We're sure no matter the outcome, it'll be a feast for us. You're interesting. More than the people who call you a monster."

    Kalia's form distorts.

    "We won't bother you any longer. Thank you for humoring our questions. We'll probably meet again. We like the Ne-Class Heavy Cruiser's anguish too much to keep our distances."

    At least they're honest!
    And gone, a moment later.