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Lilian Rook     When Lilian first opened Trídéag, she had to figure out how to show Elites around in order to communicate the premise of what they were all trying to sign up for. When fellow Paladins were interested in Trídéag, Lilian scheduled an entire curated tour for specific effect. When it was just Matilda, there was a different tour just to dissuade her. Many times before, from the Street Rats to Lulu to the Silver co. Crew, the Trídéag Association's director has gone out of her way to cultivate impressions at each and every step of the way along the burgeoning Association's growth arc.

    Except this time. Because Moses is some jackass she doesn't know who isn't joining or even very nice. Figure it out, Distortion Detective!

    The actual territory that 'belongs to Trídéag' (in as much as any legally does) has grown well beyond the headquarters and its proverbial front lawn. The community commons park may as well be considered a dead center feature by now; Fixers don't go near it on patrol anymore, coming back to it for breaks instead, and the pair of apartment buildings at its edge that'd once demarcated the end of the lot are practically first generation stalinkas to the people here. Nowadays, you can tell where the Thirteenth Association's hand formally reaches into the increasingly dilapidated streets of District 12 by noting where the lights come back on, showing the outer limit of where the new electrical grid is; and informally, by looking for uniforms belonging to contracted Offices on patrol twenty minutes away from that.

    The wave of renovation at the 'Trídéag core' is more or less done. The months of people crowding into tents on the street has passed a while ago, unfortunately partly thanks to Petra, and the urban rot of the Backstreets has been modernized to what Lilian Rook no longer considers 'an eyesore'. Everyone who could have made it to Trídéag on foot after the fall of L Corp, and did, has already been set up with a place in the surrounding buildings, four to ten storeys tall as a rule, with power, water, and heat that now come straight from the Association's first profitable quarter ever, and amenities that must have come straight from the Director's pocket.

    The laundry dries outside instead of by machine, people get dinner at community kitchens instead of traveling to a grocery store, and repairs are handled by newly employed refugees instead of by contractor, but you'd hardly guess that this handful of streets were affected by the collapse of a Wing other than by being stranded out here. Having a garden on the rooftop is in-fashion now, copying the work of the Rats at the main complex, to the point you can often see green from the ground; accidentally perfect for Trídéag's iconic colours.

    With the main complex being just 'the tallest building in the area' rather than a campfire in the wilderness which everything else huddles around, it's ordinary to see Fixers, belonging to Trídéag or the branch Offices starting to take the relocation offer, every few blocks; more so in the outer areas that are filling up at a trickle from those who've lately come from further away. The roads barely ever see vehicular traffic, and then only ever for monthly convoys of bulk goods, so they've been appropriated as practically promenade, regulated almost exclusively by 'what a passing Fixer group on patrol might frown at'.

    The reality is that the average human being, even in the City, isn't content to laze around just because the looming threat of rent is gone. Those who've been here more than a few months tend to find something to do. The fact that they still use ahn day to day is mostly out of convenience; and it's incidentally convenient if someone doesn't intend on making the trip all the way to HQ to get something.
Lilian Rook     The region that can be called 'Trídéag' is utterly microscopic compared to even just the former Nest of District 12, never mind the City; it's barely qualified as 'a town' outside it. But any way you look at it, it is some thousands of people living their lives together as a somewhat cohesive community.

    So Moses and company, having to arrive from outside rather than by VIP Warpgate, will quickly realize that surveying everyone here just isn't feasible in a day. They'd be better off planning a route, asking around about hot spots, picking up gossip about goings on; that detective stuff. And who better to ask than Fixers? Scattered thinly all around, they're on patrol, watching street corners, settling petty disputes, looking for lost items, or even just taking time off away from the headquarters campus. Even some from offworld!
Riku Asakura Today, Riku was wearing his Trideag uniform, which is to say a fancy fixer uniform with a red band on one arm that says Trideag.  He's happy to be here in the district, scoping out the citizens and hopefully keeping things quiet.  Right now, he's patrolling a street, looking out for trouble, and with a bright smile on his face.  

Grade Five Fixer Riku Asakura would likely attract the attention of youth, as he likes kids and goes out of his way to make sure they're taken care of and go to school, whatever passes for school in the city, anyway.  Right now, it's fetching a ball out of a walled-off section of the city, still under reconstruction.  

It was far too dangerous for the kids to go into, so Riku climbed over the fence and got the ball for them.  He tosses it out once he gets over it and climbs back over himself.  He pats the kids on the head and tells them to stay out of trouble.  They run off in a series of laughs and play, shouting to start kicking the ball to each other again, which puts a big smile on Riku's face.  
Kale Hearthward "Okay, and you saw it where, again?"

Kale's taking advantage of being visible to gather information and chase down a few leads. It's not *just* that he's the sole bird man in the sea of humans (attempts to get friends family and neighbors from back home to move in have had mixed results) but also that he's hovering about a foot or two off the ground at all times. Tabtrack's been tuned to a dull whine instead of a jet engine roar, but the sound makes it easy to pick him out as well.

"Right, great. Okay. Thank you for the info, and if you see it again, flag us down?" He finishes writing the information down in his tiny notebook, and then jets off towards the next spot - which happens to be someone leaning out of a window to hang their laundry on a high-rise clothesline. "Pardon me, sir, can I ask about a few things you might or might not have seen?" The tiny notebook comes back out again.

He's also wearing a 'I'm not planning on stabbing you today' t-shirt underneath his Trideag vest today, for whatever reason.
Sarracenia      Having people not planning to stab her is always good. Sarracenia isn't with Kale, but seeing the shirt at some point she gives Kale a questioning look before saying, "Good to know..." and continuing on with what she is doing.

     What is the princess doing? Well, she is working on getting her bus and shipping fleets up and running in the area. Small wooden airships about the size of a car are sitting in the commons park, awaiting those brave enough to venture onto them to get Uber-style rides to wherever they wish to go within the Trideag area. Sarra herself is walking around the park area, checking with people to see if there is anything she can help with and reminding them of the service being offered.

     She stops her patrol as she comes across a classic scene. A cat that has climbed something it shouldn't have and can't find a way down. The princess pulls out a cloud, hops upon it, and floats up to claim the feline. Of course, being a frightened feline...it leaves a few scratches on her arms and chest by the time she gets it to the ground.

     Sarra has a secondary goal. She also came to give Lilian the medal that Lilian wasn't there to receive the day of Gregory's funeral. It's a silver hammer with a sundew plant wrapped around it, held on a red and gold ribbon. Now she just has to actually spot Lilian.

     When she sees Riku, Sarra gives him a warm wave and a smile. She seems somewhat better than a few days ago, at least. She is also wearing her standard Trideag outfit.
Angela The Fixers of Trídéag love their job. Even where they may falter in sense, skill, strategy, discipline, or sensibility--they are all true believers of Lilian's rook in the City and the Association itself. And it is that faith that has been consistently reinforced by the growth of Lilian's domain throughout the City. Cheer and Soothe no longer have to just be locked up in their apartment the whole time, the neighborhood has been deemed safe enough that even Solace is comfortable with them just rolling around the neighborhood without supervision or--to put it more accurately--they are supervised by the community. Soothe is frequently sitting outside drawing scenes of commerce and play across the neighborhood, Cheer is running AND jumping all over the place and occassionally challenging full grown Trídéag Fixers to practice duels--usually with Finn or Solace herself. Finn himself has been over the moon since he's been able to repay his debt to Yun's Office (and Yun's Office, in turn, agreed to become a contracted office under Trídéag.) Lenny is an on the call doctor and is always rushing this way and that to treat injuries, check fevers, and so on when she isn't researching the condition of the G-Corp Remnants that have signed on with the Association. Arachnae and the rest aren't even flinched at when they walk down the street anymore. Mang-chi has joined Dart and her fellow Cinq defectors along with Sasha and and the Rook Office in keeping a patrol going around the neighborhood--an increasingly challenging prospect as the neighborhood has grown. Joanna the former Silver Flash has joined those efforts, feeling restless while staying in one spot and still being unaccustomed to both land and a life considerably more peaceful than what she's accustomed to.

Pete has become something of a local celebrity himself. He isn't the strongest or cleverest of local Association members, but his charisma, ambition, and cheek has given the former Rat an incredible reputation. He holds a monthly music festival.

Ceri is always fucking busy. Requests--and portents--are flowing freely and she is doing her best to make sure it's the most promising opportunities and the most dangerous clouds on the horizon are the ones that reach Lilian's desk first. She's tried to float the idea of having an assistant--perhaps even amongst the Elites--to the Dame Commander just to help with all the paperwork. She makes sure to spend at least an hour a day assisting in patrols, though she hasn't been able to make many field missions lately. When Lilian isn't around, she still makes sure everybody is keeping up with practice but even Knifty is showing up consistently to train.

And speaking of Knifty, she's still as involved in sanitation as ever. The garden up on Trídéag's roof and the headquarter facilities aren't enough, sometimes she's just going to some random apartment and plungering out a clog somewhere.
Angela Weather Report seems the most uncertain about what she's to do when she isn't training. The Distortion, thanks to the G-Corp remnants, hasn't had to deal with much shock or costernation but she has even less experience fighting than Knifty did when the Association was founded and while she is dutiful in her sessions and making progress, she isn't really 'field ready' yet. So instead, when she has the time, she produces a local neighborhood newsletter called, as you might expect, 'The Weather Report'.

Solace has been over the moon with the growth of Trídéag's territory herself. She's still softspoken and a bit distant, but she's smiling more often. On her time off, she sometimes just sits and watches the neighborhood go by from some rooftype like she's a gargoyle and can spend hours doing that. Sometimes even in a place like this, there are little conflicts that can always explode into something bigger and Solace is frequently the first on the scene to disfuse the situation. She seems ... happy.

Frankly, a lot of this aid that the Fixers do isn't even strictly neccessary. They spend their time lending their hand because they want to, not because it won't get done if they don't do it. But the work is appreciated by the community, like an oasis in a concrete desert.

"Waaitt..." Soothe tells Riku as he's fetching the ball. "Can you... ...get back on the fence? I need to get your posture right..."

"Yessir!" Dart has decided to be Kale's backup today, feather in her tricorne cap swishing in the wind. "The safety of the neighborhood depends on your support, but you can bet that our friend Kale here will investigate thoroughly with our help! Haha! He has an eagle's eye and is sure to spot anything amiss!" Dart has been acting like this around Kale all day.
Odette Raskins As one of Trideag's earliest members, the pressure for Odette to make herself an example of some kind of expert in her given field has never been stronger. That's why, despite being in the otherwise relaxing park, she's still hard at work teaching a group of Fixers the basics of first aid and field triage. She has one volunteer lying down with his eyes closed on top of an unfolded black bag, and the small gaggle of fresh-faced Fixers around her watch her with open curiosity as she goes through several different medical supplies, one at a time as she cycles through them from her pockets.

"... So you want to use these little injectors when someone's not breathing. They're fast and effective, but you won't always have enough in a real bad situation. CPR's an option, but only if you really don't have a better option." She explains, tapping on the volutneer's chest lightly with her finger before placing her palms over him. "Because you're pushing really hard, you know? A-and you're probably going to break several ribs if you haven't done it before, so it's not going to be anything like the shows."

That gets some disappointed noises from the small class, and Odette turns her head briefly to suppress a snicker. They're paying attention! "So that's why you want to carry plenty of these, for others and yourself. And... Oh! That's-" She starts to call out to Sarracenia as she sees the aforementioned heading through the park, but holds her tongue when she goes through that tree rescue. She waits until she's brought the cat back down, then holds her arm up in a broad wave of greeting. "Hello, Princess Sarracenia!"

As her attention goes around, she notices Kale and Dart in the skies as well, and Odette adjusts her cap while looking up at them and waving in passing. "Hey, Mister Hearthward! Hi..!" She calls out to them, hitching briefly when she realizes she forgot Dart's name. Maybe she won't notice the awkward stop there.

Tugging her cap down a bit more, she catches a glimpse of Riku patrolling the streets as well, but he's just a bit too far for her to try and yell all the way over there. Instead, she swaps to her radio for a quick message: <<"Hey, Mister Asakura. Everything okay over there?">>
Distortion Dets.     Now certainly isn't the time to think about how, after so, so many years, this of all things is Moses, and her assistant's, first time stepping foot back in the territory of District 12. Neither of them say anything to each other, about it; both of them want to. Luckily, as a minor distraction, the scenery isn't anything at all like either remember it; and it's once again shocking to step through a warp gate from N-corp's nest, to anywhere at all where the buildings aren't, all, a uniform and gaudy white.

    "Uwah... Detective, it's really nice here! There's *color* in everything, it's like an art gallery!" "Mm. It's clean, at least." Moses walks, surprising, for the leader of a tiny group such as her office, diagonally behind her assistant Ezra, and just ahead of her on-retainer artificer, YuRia, who seems, so far, to be both uninterested and distracted from this entire outing, her attention so far elsewhere. Mumbled, Ezra adds, "At least we're getting lunch..."

    Moses is here, more than happy to be mostly unguided, and left to her own investigations- which, actually, started a while before she even set out. Rumors of possible distortions don't make it as far away as District 14 from here, but info-brokers still hold names of acquaintances and sources, people to talk to to talk to people to hear what's been going on.

    Of course, Moses is, as ever, keeping her eyes on the passerbies and crowds, for tell-tale marks of the Distortion. She knows better than to assume it isn't there at all.

    Still. Before any of the real work can begin, Elites are prowling about the Association's grounds, some Moses' Office have even met before. Odette, for instance, is even a Watch member- with a pat to Ezra's back, to send forth as her social vanguard, waving her down with a bright-smile wave, and a "Heya, Ooooo-dette? Ope, pretty sure that's it- can we and the Detective have a little word?" TIP: Nervous medic girls might just be able to be herded into shady alleyways for chatting about anomalous goings-ons!

    Moses follows right behind Ezra, in pulling Odette aside, and when Ezra throws an over-shoulder glance back at her, Moses lets the pipe fall from her mouth with a smoke-exhale, "Tell me. You've confronted the Distortion before, I remember that much-" A finger snap, and Ezra says, "Odette." "Odette. Apologies for the surprise- we're tasked with assessing a matter, here in this territory, of finding someone yet to undergo the Distortion phenomenon, but at risk. Of the inhabitants, it's imperative that, if you've seen or heard anything, about reclusive, strange-behaved, stressed individuals, you tell me what you know."

    Holding her pipe to her side, one-handed, the same one she's somehow balanced a pen in, Moses grabs a note-pad, to list any of Odette's words- "Specifically, for you, injuries from strange stunts that have little sense to their explanations, could be relevant signs."

    YuRia, in the midst of this, waits out in the alley, letting a couple of her tiny teddy-bears loose to, just ambiently, frolick around the street-plazas, an excuse to get closer to any of the sparring-matches going on out and about, before inevitably deciding that bores her. After, when Moses and Ezra return from veritable-cover, Ezra adds, to her boss, "Hey, psst- there's a whole Distortion that's been walking around, you know! With a cloud where a head should be!" "Mm. I noticed. That isn't what we're after, but... keep an eye, won't you? Wave them down. I'd hate to miss the opportunity." "And, look! Another with a bird for a head! Right over there!" "Mm? No, I don't think so, I see something else on him. Is he wearing a... mask? In uniform?"

    With dubious intent, Moses, smoking her pipe, heel-click walks towards Kale; gruff in her introduction- "What exactly are you doing?"
Riku Asakura Riku, who has come down from the fence, looks at Soothe, who asks him to get back on the fence.  He gives her a big smile and nods, getting back up on the fence, and climbs about halfway up, so that he's on top of it.  "Here?" he asks, making sure the position was right for the artist to draw!  He's happy to help out anyone, mostly because it gives him a connection with others where he can express himself.  

When Sarracenia waves to him, he waves back, giving her a wide smile and hanging on to the side of the fence with one hand so he can wave back to her before solidly grabbing the fence again.  "Sarracenia!  How are you doing?  Well, I hope?  What are you doing out here today?" he was sure even Lilian would give her time to grieve, so her being out here must be something she wants to do.  

To the radio, he radios Odette back, <"Yeah, things are alright over here, just some kids who kicked their ball into the construction side of things.  I was just getting it back for them when Soothe asked me to climb the fence again.  How about you? I see some people dragging you to the side.  Are they friends of yours?"> Riku pauses for a little bit before speaking up again, <"Also, you can just call me Riku!">
Odette Raskins It seems today's going to be a rather busy one for Odette as, in the middle of her little lesson to the Fixers, she's actually being hailed down! By familiar faces, no less, although it's still surprising to be the one sought out rather than doing the seeking. "Oh! H-hello, Miss Ezra! Hello, Miss Moses! And hello, Miss... Ss...."

Crap. Have they ever met before? She had to have seen this third person at least once before, right? What was her name? Odette's eye contact with YuRia breaks repeatedly as she desperately tries to find any indication of what her name is, or even for someone to get the hint and turn this into an introduction rather than leaving her hanging.

Wait. Ezra did give her an out, didn't she? She did! Maybe nobody'll notice that awkwardly hanging s noise. "A-a word? Sure thing! What can I-oh, yeah, we can go a little... Over there?" She fidgets a little as the herding begins, far too weak of will to not be. It probably doesn't hurt that she's still a little awestruck by the Ezra and Moses, and simultaneously surprised to have been approached at all.

She barely even slows down when she turns around in mid-step to face the group of Fixers she had been teaching, holding her hands up around her jacket pockets. "Remember the lid thing!" She calls out to them, then stumbles a little with a brief noise before righting herself on a corner, then heading into that alley for the questioning.

At least she doesn't seem too nervous when the questions start coming. "Distortions... Oh, yeah. The musical one was-" She starts, nodding slightly before fighting back a light shiver at recalling the sight from way back when. "That one was pretty bad. Oh, um! No, no, the surprsie is fine. It's probably-this is probably a breaking thing, right? You've gotta chase whatever leads you get before they go cold, I understand." She replies with an eager little nod, apparently excited over the possibility of being helpful for cracking whatever case it is they're working on.

It takes her a moment longer to actually weigh those factors Moses brings up in her head, running a hand through her hair briefly and then keeping her hands busy with undoing a small knot. "There's plenty of fol-er. People that are kind of secretive and weird in the area. The frying guy, the banana guy, the jerky rack lady... But someone that's gotten injured or super weird about it?"

She closes her eyes for a few seconds longer, then inhales suddenly and snaps her fingers. "A-actually, there is that tunnel lady I've been trying to catch up with for a bit. Big backpack, like she's packed all of her supplies in there. Stuff to eat, a sleeping bag, a whole shovel, and I don't know how many cans of paint she must have in there." She explains, pulling her duffel bag up briefly to wear it like a backpack for emphasis. "The first time I saw her-er. I mean, not HERE here, but around, you know? She was muttering about underground tunnels and spraying big X's all over the street. I don't know if she was going to dig those spots up or anything, but it looked like she had a couple of bruises."

She pauses briefly, sounding a little a guilty suddenly. "But when I tried to go help her, she took off. I-I think she might've bumped into something hard when she bolted, too, and now I can't get anywhere near her without her running. D-does that match anything you've heard of so far?"

Over the radio, Odette radios Riku back as well: <<"Heh. Aww, that's nice of you, Riku! Yes, I'm okay. I-it's Miss Ezra and Miss Moses. They're detectives, you know? Just like in the shows!">> That certainly seems to have helped her mood a smidge. <<"Miss Ezra's really strong, and Miss Moses has this cool thing she does with her pipe.">>
Timespace Riders      Sougo Tokiwa and Woz aren't in the courtyard, until they are. The swirl of Woz's space-defying grey scarf from a point in the empty air is rather hard to miss. It thins out and rests on the retainer's shoulder inocuously, or, perhaps, like the man himself, coyly.

     "The detectives, sire," says Woz, with a sweep of his hand towards Moses and Ezra.

     "Huh... the one with the pipe *and* the tall one? She doesn't look very detectivey," Sougo muses. He was absolutely picturing two Sherlock Holmes types with the hat and everything.

     "That is Ezra, my Demon King. Don't underestimate her deductive capacity. According to this book," he says, lifting the tome held under his arm ever so slightly,"They have worked together for some time."

     "Huh..."

     Without much pretense, Sougo just kind of walks over to Moses and Ezra. He and Woz are clearly Fixers of this association, given their uniforms, but what they could want with either Moses or Ezra isn't clear. Sougo's just kind of following them around like a tourist, and Woz looks like his disinterested and increasingly embarrassed partner, until it reaches critical mass.

     "Detectives," says Woz, "May I introduce his majesty Sougo Tokiwa, the future Demon King of Time. I am Woz, the somewhat unusual time traveler, and chronicler to his royal majesty." He bows lightly at the waist, one hand over his heart.

     "Hi! What are you guys detecting right now? Can we help?"
Sarracenia      Wandering the Trideag zone is good for Sarra's spirit. Even if she wasn't able to talk to the cat she rescued and it ended up scratching her, seeing all of the positivity and brightness and community makes it easier to push out of her mind all the trouble she caused for both the City...and possibly her recently departed butler.

     Once the cat is safely back on the ground, Sarra pulls out a green mushroom to deal with the scratches then waves back to Riku with a decent enough smile. "Hello Riku! I am...well enough." she says with a slight nod. "I would much rather be here helping than sitting at home in that giant castle...without..." Her smile breaks for just a moment but she coughs into a fist and clears her throat. "...a-after all, that would not help anyone. Right?"

     After that, it is Odette's turn. "Hello Odette! It is good to-" she calls out, and makes her way over to the medic only for Odette to be intercepted by some detectives. Being somewhat protective of the meek medic, Sarra gives a bit of a frown when Odette is cornered. But, Odette doesn't call for help or seem overly threatened so Sarra waits until the detectives are done and Odette is released.

     Sarra approaches Odette, her smile returning. "How are you? It seems like it has been forever since we have encountered each other." she says, then eyes the detectives. "Is everything alright?" She offers a small wave toward Woz and Sougo as they approach. "Hello there, Sougo. Hello Woz."
Angela Weather Report, upon spotting Moses and Ezra looking her way. She waves with a hand, though her head shifts from cloud to fog. What does that mean? It's a mystery. In the sense, that she's mystified by what's going on and thus lost in the fog.

Soothe's Distortion seems to be a waves of water and ink pouring out of his eyes and ears, with tendrils of fluid rippling around and off of and around him. His clothes look damp and blackened from ink, with more colorful splotches leaking out of him elsewhere.

Dart has a bright and colorful peacock head with a cape of colorful feathers with countless 'eyes' mixed among them. The peacock clicks her feet together at attention and says, "Ah, you must be Detective Moses and her assistant! Assistant Director Ceri told us you might be dropping by. I, Dart of the Trídéag Association and formerly of the Cinq am at your service!" The peacock bows as the feathers blow out behind her. Of course, only Moses sees any of this. Dart is too full of herself to notice Odette has forgotten a name and is all too happy to supply it on her own.

Soothe seems to be staring at Moses and Ezra but isn't approaching them, but only once he's done with working on Riku. He quietly thanks Riku with a 'Thanks'.

"We are patrolling the community, ma'am! Previously, Syndicates like the Stray Dogs would jump our people when they saw a gap in our patrols but now as our community has grown, such patrols become ever more neccessary in case there is unexpected trouble. It is important that this is a safe harbor for those who rely on us, ma'am!"
Riku Asakura <<"Oh, I know of the detectives!  Or I guess the detective and her assistant.  Or are they both detectives?  I forgot!  But it is cool, because it's just like the shows!  Thanks for the reminder on them. When I'm done here, I'll jog over there and say hi.  Thanks, Odette!">>

Riku's smile wavers somewhat when Sarracenia mentions her reason for being out here, instead of at home.  He nods to her from his place on the fence and speaks up again softly.  "It's alright to take time to mourn, Sarra.  But if you would rather be out here doing something, I understand that, too.  I'm a little like that myself."

"After all, my motto is 'Standing around doing nothing won't get us anywhere.'  But... please take some time for yourself, okay?"  

Upon getting the 'thanks' from Soothe, he jumps back down off the fence and walks towards the detectives.  
Lilian Rook     A few hour's brisk walk away from here, Moses, Ezra, and YuRia would be contending with the territorial concerns of street gangs and low-level Syndicate catspaws, new ones rising and old ones falling every month. With little to exploit save abandoned infrastructure and privacy, the former steadily picked over by a constant trickle of scavengers and the occasional surveyor too hopeful for their funding, even the Sweepers only bother to prowl the streets in minuscule numbers at night. The only people to ask would be those who wouldn't be welcome here in the first place, or those who think they have a better shot collecting scalps to climb the vague suggestion of a ladder into a Syndicate's good graces. At best, they might encounter Yurodivie along their way, who are already their allies. More likely, they'd come under attack multiple times a day.

    Here though, where they are, people have it better in many ways than they would inside the Nest at its peak. It may not be exactly upscale (much to the Director's general dismay), but Moses would be hard pressed to find many other places where the average threat of Distortion is so low. Nowhere else has been so thoroughly colonized by a vision of what the City could be instead of what it is; by the collective will of hard-working Multiversals and the once-dispirited locals they inspire, as well as the capital, prestige, and raw opportunism of an individual. The simple fact is that the bulk of the people visible from the streets along the whole way in just . . . aren't that stressed at all.

    Sure, life in the City is always a little scary, but the Fall of District 12 was way scarier than this. Sure, Trídéag is more like an unusually large Office than a proper Association, but it's easy to believe in so much exciting talent in one place, not to mention it's easy to feel motivated by the promise of a bright and unknown future. Few people have the stability of an explicit paycheque and lease agreement, but the location itself makes extracting rent and bills completely pointless anyways, and the standard twelve hour workday is out of the question. Riding high on faith in the Association's locally famous code, and on the relentless PR campaign of the Director, her top Fixers, and the nearby Star, nobody questions when food and electricity is going to stop being anywhere from cheap to free after it's kept steady for six months. And, after the battle that took place at the 'Saint's Warehouse', morale has spiked yet again.

    In short, for a few thousand people with strange fortunes, there's simply no impulse to worry about anything below the halfway line on Maslowe's pyramid, and ample reason to experience a true rarity in the City: hope for the future.
Lilian Rook     Of course nothing can be perfect. Even the Director of Trídéag isn't so infinitely benificent (read: a believer in psychiatry at all) to be concerned with whatever baggage people brought here with them; at least beyond community Fixer work (something she considers good training for everything other than combat, and a solid justification to pay this many Fixers) to keep it from spilling over. Nor can fights with family, petty feuds with neighbours, or pining for lost homes or familiar indulgences be prevented. So, even though it's shocking what a lot of greenery will do for someone's mental health, the atmosphere only answers why the mean urge to Distort is so low, and not why there are allegedly none at all.

    New workers from the construction site Riku just visited take a few minutes to ask if he'd be available for heavy hauling later, claiming it'd be a 'big help', patting his teen biceps jokingly, and offering home cooking as a bonus.
    A pair of children hustle by, pulling down each missing cat notice along the way; one smiles and waves with both arms at Sarracenia.
    An audience of the audience watches Odette from benches that have been recently installed across the way. Peoplewatchers, couples, and someone with a sketch pad who is drawing her.
    When Kale flies away from the window, someone on the rooftop uses his jet wash to launch a kite; the first in the neighbourhood, having heard about it from a Multiversal and made it from spare parts themselves.
    In the courtyard, a group of old ladies with nothing in common save the rarity of the elderly in the Backstreets have come together for their daily social appointment, and hassle both Sougo and Woz at separate points to ask them all about the other in warmly gossipy tones.

    On the street level, a corner camera checks the growing gathering of notable weirdos off the main road, and seven minutes later, the tone of the background noise outside subtly increases in energy. One set of footsteps outside the alley correspond to famously familiar tones, and utterly unassuming words:

    "What are you all doing cramming yourselves down an alleyway like this? I'm off the clock and due at Laplace, so please don't tell me it's something absurd."
Timespace Riders Hello there, Sougo. Hello Woz.

    "Hi, Sarra!" Sougo waves back, enthusiastically.

    "Your majesty," says Woz with a measured incline of his head.

    What are the pre-emptive signs of Sougo's Distortion? Of Woz's?

    Overlaid atop Sougo's Trideag uniform--really, completely obscuring it--is a set of regal silks. A sash reminiscent of those worn by southeast Asian royalty cuts a daring golden line across a black jacket. The jacket itself is white from the shoulders up, with an intricate floral pattern. The sash and its diamond baubles weigh oppressively against his shoulder. Where there should be skin, there is glass--the muscle beneath it is gone, too, replaced by sand. All of it is racing downwards, making Sougo into a human hourglass measuring a time that is growing close at hand--Moses can see all the way through his eyes and his forehead to what's behind him.

    Woz looks as though he's on the surface of the sea; reflections of waves dance across his face, and his hair and clothes are matted to his body by moisture which thus far eludes only his upper chest, as if he were adrift on flotsam and barely above water. Whatever sunlight is there to make those reflections is shot through, frequently, by the shadows of stormclouds. His hair, his clothes and even his scarf seem blown about by the uncertain weather. At one point, a lightning bolt grazes his chest, all definition of his body lost in blinding white.

I'm off the clock and due at Laplace, so please don't tell me it's something absurd.

     "Hi, Lilian!"

     "Director, sire," Woz corrects.

     "Hi, Director Lilian! We're just here because there's some funny detectives and we wanted to see what they were detecting."
Odette Raskins <<"They're both detectives. Hehe... Yeah, except the gadgets are in the case instead of a hat.">> Odette relays to Riku, pausing briefly to glance at Ezra somewhat conspicuously. <<"Yes, we'll probably still be here. Keep those kids out of trouble now!">>

As she tries to figure out if she's seen anyone else matching the description the detectives are looking for (and muttering something about how "the frying guy doesn't mind anyone seeing him boil stuff"), Odette looks up a little to realize that Woz and Sougo have arrived with the former handling the introductions already. "Oh! H-hello, Mister Woz. Hi, Sougo. Oh, yes, if you need help unraveling stuff, they'd be a huge help, too."

She doesn't elaborate on how, of course. She just looks between Moses and Ezra on one side, and Woz and Sougo on the other.

When Sarracenia catches up, Odette greets her with a quick wave and chuckle of mild amusement. "Has it? I mean, I-I think I saw you in the halls, but all the training and work..." She starts, then nods lightly abefore stroking her chin. "Haven't had a chance to talk in a bit, mm-mm... A-anyway. Yes, I'm okay! Just doing the round today, had to give some new Fixers a little rundown on some medical stuff, and now-"

She explains, gesturing helpfully at the two detectives. "Just helping out Miss Ezra and Miss Moses here."

With Dart helpfully explaining the work around the area, meanwhile, Odette nods along while patting her duffel bag as she slides it back to her side. "That's why I was showing that little group medical stuff. Figured it'd be helpful to have more people that know about proper treatment and triage so people don't have to feel like the only thing they can do is wait around to maybe get better, you know?"

Hearing Lilian's approach and question has Odette looking over as well, greeting her with a well-practiced salute and holding in a quiet giggle. "H-hello, Commander Rook! No, nothing absurd today. Well, nothing that absurd. Just answering some questions that miiight help with a... Case?" She answers, lowering her voice at the last moment and glancing over at Moses for a moment to see if she's getting an affirming reaction from that explanation and reduction in volume. "Wait. It's not a secret case, is it?"
Riku Asakura To the construction workers, Riku smiles at them and nods.  "Sure, I can come by and help. Let me look into something real quick, and I'll be right back.  I'm looking forward to that meal!" He says to the workers, with that big smile.  

He continues his walk to meet up with the detectives, and when Lilian is there, he waves to her.  "No, wanted to know if the Detectives needed anything, Director!"

<<"Oh, okay!  That's good to know they got them in a case instead of their hats!  Can do with the kids, though it looks like the construction workers want help so I'll be getting dinner tonight for some light work! Haha...">> he radios to Odette.  
Distortion Dets. 'Miss Ezra! Hello, Miss Moses! And hello, Miss... Ss....'

    Ezra snickers, while YuRia points her grey eyes like skull-exploding lasers right on Odette's face, disinterest so obvious it hurts, "Workshop Meister YuRia." YuRia then decides she's exploded Odette's head enough, and finds a little wall to lean against and make sure motor oil hasn't gotten its way underneath her fingernails, rather than take part in this info-chat.

'The frying guy, the banana guy, the jerky rack lady...'

    Moses raises an eyebrow. Ezra's stomach grumbles, and Moses closes her eyes, sighing out smoke, disappointed in her. "Is it all food-related? I can't imagine it. This location is famed to have stability of supply, for District 12. I'd believe it a lie if the evidence didn't conform to it."

    "...Tunnel lady? Do you just categorize people by traits, rather than names?" Still, that's obviously suspicious enough that even Ezra perks up. Moses writes on her pad the stated details, while half-to-herself muttering, "A state of panic, clearly, to hold everything on her person like that, for situations worsening? Skittish, but still preaching warnings. Where were the marked X's? Were they cleaned up, or do they still remain? I'd like to see one, and see her, too, if that's information yo have. I'll find her if not. Could you describe her?"

    Sighing, again, and tucking her notepad into the pocket of her shoulder-worn jacket, "It fits the traits I'd watch for, yes. Anecdotal, so it's uncertain, and I'll have to see for myself, first. It's helpful information, regardless-"

'May I introduce his majesty Sougo Tokiwa, the future Demon King of Time.'

    Moses looks through Woz, and Sougo, respectively, before pulling the pipe from her mouth, blinking a moment when she alone sees the lightning-burst from Woz's Distortion-signs. To not stare at Sougo's head, distressing-enough to look through, she stares curiously at the down-drift of the sand within him. The largest politeness she musters, through the unexpected interruption, is to stick a hand to shake. "Detective Moses, yes. I could tell by the manner of dress-" What? "Ezra? Did you bring business cards?" "Yep, yep! Hey, Misters, go on, take a few~!"

    Moses takes that break to, again, chew on the end of her pipe. Muddled through that, "Was there a matter you're approaching for? I was under the impression I wouldn't be received by a welcoming committee." Inhale, purple-tinged exhale smoke, "If it's a social matter, I'm afraid I'm working, and I'll have to ask help of you, instead, with regards to local assessment of the Distortion phenomenon." Now she's staring right through Sougo's head. A bit unhappy to have so much specifically Trídéag attention, here, at the Association's grounds, there's nothing much Moses can do but nudge a shoulder-gesture Odette's way, to get her to fill Sougo and Woz in with the strange person's activities and description.

'What are you all doing cramming yourselves down an alleyway like this?'

    Moses stills, the edges of her pipe-smoke growing bone white, from normal grey. Her eyes dart around the alley, to each person in it, and their lack of reactions at all to whatever it is that Moses must currently be seeing, frightful-stiff. Slow, smoke-coarse, "Hoping, unsuccessfully, to have a private discussion with a witness to activities indicative of risk for the Distortion."
Distortion Dets.     Moses puts her pipe down from her lips, hands slightly-trembling- it could be from the chemicals in what she's smoking, but it probably isn't. "You're correct in risk of Distortion here, seemingly, being remarkably low. It isn't vanished. However, there is an individual I've now heard about, who concerns me." Staring vacant down the alleyway, Moses seems like she's about to speak up to correct that sentence, but opts instead to leave off.

. . .

    In vain, Moses attempts to leave the alleyway with Ezra- an escape to get to work immediately thwarted by yet another person here to talk towards them all.

'We are patrolling the community, ma'am!'

    A bit exasperated, still coarse, "Are you, now? By any chance, would you have, in those patrols, seen a nervous woman painting X-marks on the pavement?" Moses stares at the peacock, half in disbelief, half in annoyed hope that this, maybe, is the last duty interruption.
Odette Raskins "Workshop Meister YuRia."

Odette's fidgeting is hard to miss while she's getting head-exploded, although hearing YuRia introducing herself is at least a small relief. Maybe she really didn't forget her name after all! "Odette Raskins, Company EMT and Trideag Fixer. I-it's nice to meet you!" She introduces herself, equal parts polite and nervous as she often is.

"Is it all food-related?"

"Not all of them, no. They're just the ones that kinda.. Erm. Come to mind faster because everyone else that handles food is more normal." She replies with an awkward little chuckle, shivering briefly as she recalls some of the more outlandish (to her) food options available throughout the city.

That pie is never leaving her memory.

"...Tunnel lady?"

"No, no, I use names! If I.. Have them." Odette protests briefly, nodding slowly as she listens to Moses' muttering. "Mhm, the sleeping bag kind of stuck out to me since I haven't really seen people kitted out for mining like that since I was back home. The X's..." Closing her eyes, Odette raps a knuckle against the side of her head, then snaps her fingers lightly. "The ones around here are probably cleaned up by now, but I know I saw plenty of them a couple of blocks out that way."

After gesturing in a direction heading further away from the Trideag's main grounds, Odette purses her lips again as she tries to recall the lady's appearance. "I'd recognize her face if I saw her again, but... Mmmnh. Oh! M-Mister Sougo, Mister Woz. Did you ever see that lady that was talking about tunnels and spraying streets all over? The one with the shovel and spray paint and that backpack even bigger than mine?"
Lilian Rook     Lilian hardly needed to say anything about being off work. It's obvious just from looking at her, and doubly so if one knows just how rare it is to catch her 'between shifts'; or really between anything.

    The coat that she has to take with her is still folded over her arm, theoretically ready to be thrown on again in case of escalation to 'official business', but the dress shirt is back in her office. Her SN-13 is locked up in the usual safe, so until she actually reaches the final Warpgate, Night Mist occupies her waist instead, suspended from the double-strap carry belt that she uses both for her Laplace and Foundation appearances. She didn't get so far as changing her skirt or shoes, nor removing her visible sidearm, much less putting on the lanyard, so she kind of just looks like she has on that insane black and silver top and gloves for no reason. Her crossbody bag is hanging with her coat on her shoulder, lighter than it ever is, which means it's only half-packed. Even the way her hair is pinned up is temporary.

    Even Moses can tell. After all, the signs are everywhere she looks but her. They curl around the corner in advance of her footsteps, stabilizing nobody's inquisitive lean. They tap and drum on the concrete in ways that would be thoughtful if there weren't six different rhythms at once. They--

    'Hi, Director Lilian! We're just here because there's some funny detectives and we wanted to see what they were detecting.'

    "A detective? Shouldn't you all know better to speak to random nosy strangers?"

    Moses knows she's looking at her pipe because that's where 'they' are, testing the grain, stirring at the ashes, one poised to take it right from her lips. It's like the white smoke attracts them.

    'Just answering some questions that miiight help with a... Case?'

    "And don't just cooperate with every single investigation. Unless it's one of ours, you know they have to go through official channels. You'd better not be ratting on your own neighbours or so help me."

    They've reached Odette now; blocking out any way else she can look, demanding all of her attention, clapped over her mouth as if that would shut her up. One is on Ezra's shoulder, trembling with the barely-held energy needed to yank her back and shove her aside. It's hopefully just her imagination that they've got her hair from behind.

    'Hoping, unsuccessfully, to have a private discussion with a witness to activities indicative of risk for the Distortion.'

    "Oh. It's you."

    Lilian recognizes Moses' voice and nothing else. Not her appearance nor her clothes nor the background texture of her thoughts. "Wouldn't it have been polite to check in first?" she says, tilting her head a few degrees to the side in faint admonishment, holding her cheek in passive wondering, tapping her lip in deep thought, brushing aside a lock of Moses'-- "That way I could have you along your way instead of precisely this happening. Well, I suppose it speaks well of our patrol coverage, so I'll leave it be for now." Lilian decides, brushing back her hair and clapping twice as punctuation, sharp and metallic-loud.

    'You're correct in risk of Distortion here, seemingly, being remarkably low. It isn't vanished.'

    She wears that self-satisfied smile nakedly. Her arm rests on her sword, the other holding her coat, but crosses them smugly anyways, and crosses them separately, defensively, and-- "Of course, of course. Suit yourself. But don't do anything that I'll hear of. You won't be laughing if I find out that you've been harassing residents." Lilian looks around the group and plays eenie-meenie-miney-moe, singling out-- "Dart. Show her along. Anyone with free time, feel free to 'supervise'."
Timespace Riders Detective Moses, yes. I could tell by the manner of dress-

    Sougo pats his clothes down, checking to make sure he's still wearing his Trideag uniform. When he finds that he is, he seems relieved, and doesn't pursue the matter further.

    Woz furrows his brow thoughtfully. He accepts the business cards from Ezra with both hands, bowing his head. Distributing one to Sougo, he then retrieves from the wrinkles of his scarf a small card case, to place the other within it. Flipping to his own personal section, he procures two:

    One for himself, listing him as a 'Time Traveler, Vizier, & Chronicler,' and one for Sougo, naming him a 'Future Demon King' with additional talents listed as 'Historian & Political Scientist.'

    "Whoa! Woz, we have business cards?"

    "But of course, sire. Any Concord partner should, to say nothing of the customs of this era."

I was under the impression I wouldn't be received by a welcoming committee.

    Sougo brightens, looking behind him to see if he can spy what Moses is looking at, before returning his attention to her.

    "Um, Woz let me know that you'd be here, and I was curious enough to come and ask why. But don't let me get in your way! I'd be happy to help how I can."
Angela ''Would you have, in those patrols, seen a nervous woman painting X-marks on the pavement?''

"Why, yes ma'am! I have tried unsuccessfully to persuade her to take up residence in the neighborhood." The peacock pretty much looks smug plenty already, but now she's placing her hands on her hips to radiate even more pride, despite just literally saying she had failed to do it. "Naturally, we have no interest in forcing anybody here, but there's only so much we can do outside our perimeter. The Syndicates are less eager to jump us after the Stray Dogs incident, but ... their unscrupulous motivations in the District are no doubt too lucrative to give up over some split lips and bruised pride. We have determined, however, that she tends to have a pattern to her movements relative to those X-marks she's been placing. If we follow them, we will inevitably come upon her. With the Director's permission, I will happily lead her to you. I hope your investigation proves fruitful either way!"

She looks towards Lilian, awaiting her command...

Then once she hears it, she says, "I shall not lead you astray, ma'ams!" She points her rapier forward, while leaving her Trídéag blade at her side since she's mostly using the former for dramatic posturing.

The trip takes a while, no doubt at least an hour in of itself, since they are moving towards the outskirts of the Trídéag perimeter. Dart goes on and on about the progress of small things going on within Trídéag's territory, the new newsletter, Pete's growing influence with the Rats, and just other day to day gossip of the territory. If she's told to shut it by Moses, she quiets down before picking back up again in minutes but if Lilian says so she'll manage at least half the voyage.

Eventually, they spot their first white X painted on the street and Dart picks up the pace, moving from X to X until she stops suddenly, pointing in the distance towards an unlit side street.

A woman, carrying a large backpack on her back and hunched over--looks to be in her mid fourties--though she's had a hard life so maybe some of that is just her experiences. Her hair is dry and matted and doesn't look like it's gotten a clean wash in a while. She has a shovel strapped to the back of her backpack and in her right hand is...several sticks of crude dynamite wrapped together with ducktape. In her left hand is a spray can. She's murmuring, "Tunnels... gotta show them the tunnels...Getting bigger...Straight to hell..."
Odette Raskins "And don't just cooperate with every single investigation."

Flinching a little at realizing her mistakes, Odette gives Lilian a quick nod. "Oh! S-sorry, Miss Rook. Er. Commander Rook. D-don't worry, there hasn't been any ratting out going on!" She explains hastily, her attention easily fixed in place while she bites her lip, hesitating a little before continuing on.

It should be fine if it's nothing that hasn't already been said, right? "I only really talked about that tunnel lady at all. Y-you know, that one with the big bag that was painting X's all over?" ODette asks, swallowing briefly before nodding over at Dart and turning to Moses and Ezra again.

"Oh! Y-yeah, Miss Dart could probably give you a better idea of what she looks like. She's had a better shot talking to the tunnel lady than I have." Piggy-backing off Dart's encouragement and Lilian's go ahead, Odette reshoulders her bag before giving the latter another quick salute. "Will do! It'll go fine, I'm sure. And with a pattern to follow, that should be even easier!"

During the little trek, Odette's got her eyes wide open for most of it as she tries to spot any of those strange X markings on the street. Encountering their first X has the EMT starting to look for hiding places initially, eventually opting to just trail further behind the detectives and their guides so as to not risk the woman spotting her and running off again. She keeps coming closer and backing off again sporadically, not quite wanting to  be left out of what's being discussed, but still too wary to linger nearby for long.

By the time they see the backpack'd woman up ahead, Odette's once again drifted back further. She ducks into a nearby alley when she recognizes that backpack of hers and her voice, although she can still be seen peeking out from around the corner as she speaks into her headset. <<"Oh! M-Miss Moses, Miss Ezra. That's her. I'll just.. Should I stay back here while you talk to her?">>
Distortion Dets. 'Oh. It's you.'

    Voice as the recognition-point now, but not across voice-only communication platforms, strikes Moses as odd- but it's hard to put thought whether that's a ploy, genuine, or some inconsistency, when she herself is trying to resist the idea to shake the phantom hands off of her smoking pipe. More tight, "Yes. Detective Moses. I didn't think we'd be meeting."

    Ezra, to a slight-wince from Moses, hands out the stack of business cards towards Lilian, just the same as with Sougo and Woz- they aren't particularly fancy, beyond being stiff paper (green, with yellow-gold lettering, befitting a Seven Association affiliate) and having an Office address on it.

'D-don't worry, there hasn't been any ratting out going on!'

    Moses Glares at Odette. The meaning of the glare is not immediately made obvious, or explained, but it is a Glare nonetheless. There has been some manner of opinion-change on her, in the mind of the older detective. Then, to Lilian, "I hardly noticed she was one of your Fixers."

'Wouldn't it have been polite to check in first?'

    "It was pre-arranged, I assumed that to be enough warning for a matter that wouldn't require structured assistance. If I assumed correctly, I apologize- my assistant and I haven't yet made it through to any headquarters buildings, so there truly hasn't been the opportunity." Maybe that's reasonable, but it's undercut by how defensive and put-off Moses is, at the hands, everywhere, everywhere that she can see.

    Ezra seems to, finally, catch on to Moses' ambient stress, and nudges close to her, whispering (loud enough to hear) a context-less, "I don't see much of 'nything going on," to her boss. Still, the outlines of her smoke clouds stay an unnatural white.

'Dart. Show her along. Anyone with free time, feel free to 'supervise'.'

    "I'd prefer to not have more of a crowd." Too bad!

. . .

'I have tried unsuccessfully to persuade her to take up residence in the neighborhood.'

    Still half-exasperated, "Unsuccessfully? That might explain carrying her gear around with her, but she's still sleeping, somewhere. So, she's... residing outside the controlled territory, and sneaking in, repeatedly? Do I have that correct?" Moses doesn't, at all, assume that the Association here might knowingly allow a non-residing vagrant to stay fully within controlled, patrolled territory unofficially.

    At Dart's salute, "If you're going to be present for this, keep your weapons stowed." She's not the boss of any Fixers here but Ezra, that won't stop her throwing a demand- "This is an individual already, clearly, scared and skittish. If she is close to Distorting, I won't have you, or any other... 'supervisors', setting anything off by recklessness. There's no room for that type of error."

    On the walk, Moses is quiet, smoking, and thinking to herself- this seems to bore Ezra just a little, who sticks by Odette, to ambiently pick on her with little sort-of-endeared comments, on how 'You know, the Detective will like it a lot better once you learn to stop stuttering,' or 'Are you scared of your Director, flinching like that?'.

    YuRia has Fucked Off Somewhere else, to probably show back up at Moses' Office at the end of the day- red teddy bears are, also, certain to be caught, later, attempting to sneak into the Trídéag HQ complex. It's probably fine.
Distortion Dets.     Moses keeps, with her pad of paper, a quick, rough schematic of where the X's are in relation to one another, as she's led from mark to mark, trying to form some idea of whether it has an aerial (or subterranean, she's been called 'tunnel lady',) shape to it. This stops, upon seeing her in the distance.

    Spotting the stick of dynamite, Moses herself puts a hand to Dart's shoulder, to stop her from running in, even if she gives no indication she would- sharp, hiss-quiet, "Bomb! She's holding a bomb!"

    Ezra takes this cue, once everyone along for the task is halted back- the same as with Odette, she's the designated envoy, a big smile on her face, Ezra's the one Moses doesn't stop from stepping forwards towards the stranger, a big wave to greet. "Hey-heya, what's that you're working at, ma'am?"

    It doesn't matter if Ezra's afraid of the held-explosive, because Ezra never looks scared. Still, her approach steps are slow, and once she's an (uncomfortable but relatively safe) short distance away, she stops, rocking back and forth on the heels of her chunky boots. "I'm Ezra, and I don't bite, can me and my grouchy old boss have a couple words..?"
Angela "Yes Detective! Unsuccessfully! A blight upon my career and honor, but nevertheless--perhaps today is the day we rectify it!" Dart tells Moses and then considers leaving her weapon sheathed. "If that is your wish, then I shall obey! To draw steel against those who cannot defend themselves would make Assistant Director Ceri most displeased."

It turns out that Weather Report is coming along as well, though she's hanging near the rear. She still has that sort of smoky fog as her head right now.

But Dart seems comfortable with Moses and Ezra taking the lead once they spot the Tunnel Woman. After all, that's the purpose of her invitation! That Dart assumes Moses has!

As Ezra approaches, the Tunnel Woman turns her head to look at her. By Ezra's gaze, she's wearing a thick pair of goggles over her eyes, one of the lenses is very slightly cracked--though still functioning, more or less. Dart, naturally, freezes up at Moses's order though Weather Report cranes to take a look. "Oh that poor woman..." She murmurs. "She must have had it rough..."

The Tunnel Woman watches Ezra warily. "You wish to see the tunnels? No, no, you should not see. There's something deeply wrong with The City, the tunnels can lead us. We just need the...right tunnel. No time for talk, no time..."

The Tunnel Woman then notices it's more than just Ezra around but a whole lot of people. This startles her some and she runs off. She doesn't, at least, throw her bomb at the party though the fuses aren't lit either. She's spryer than she looks, though not particularly speedy, but her sense of the labryinthine streets of the Backstreets is functionally second to none.

"Ah! Wait! We simply wish to talk, we mean no harm, milady!" Dart shouts.

The Tunnel Woman slips through a crack between two boarded up buildings (a liquor store and a smokeshop respectively) and then--vanishes.

Of course, she didn't actually disappear. As the group approaches--however they choose to--they'll have to move single file or in pairs at the most. It's that tight.

The entrance to the smokeshop is blasted open and there's a thick pit encompassing both a good chunk of that shop and the sidestreet leading into--well--a tunnel. Has this been a tunnel she had opened up before Trídéag had grown out as far as it has?

The lady hobbles away through the darkness, muttering to herself. "Tunnels... there's tunnels..."

The path down is longer and deeper than one might expect. Stained green dried out puddles linger across the walls and floor. Thin roots are twisting along the ceiling and walls across the dug out tunnels, trailing further away from Trídéag's Headquarters as they grow thicker and more numerous.
Petra Soroka     The tunnels are slapdash, but in the woman's obsessiveness, anything but amateurish. Beneath the layer of pavement is the rocky soil that is nearly never seen in the City above, illuminated by dim lamps and the light on the woman's helmet. Glimpses of supports in the walls, scavenged from collapsed surface buildings, and hieroglyphic markers on slabs of stone that likely only make sense to her, line the subterranean network that she's excavated by herself.

    Then, as she's hurrying to flee from Moses and the rest, her flailing headlamp sweeps across a figure waiting in a gap between the pools of light. Wearing a nondescript suit, hair pulled into a short ponytail, leaning up against the wall with her arms folded, it's Petra Soroka, incomprehensibly one step ahead yet again. She has a cigarette in her mouth, but given that she hasn't lethally hotboxed herself in the tunnel, it's certainly a candy cigarette.

    She doesn't move to push herself up off the wall, instead just casually kicking up one leg and propping her foot against the opposite wall to block the width of the tunnel, forcing the woman to slow down.

    "Hey, Aperta. Sorry for scaring you. I just wanted to talk, and this seemed like the best place to catch you. I had no idea you were so popular."

    As if this is a normal place to be, and to have a conversation, Petra drops her foot and stands up properly. She moves like she's handing Aperta a business card, but when Aperta's headlamp shifts down along with her head, the thing she's slid into her hand is a stick of dynamite.

    "You've probably been feeling pretty crazy for the past few months, right? Shit's fucked, I know. Everything's gone wrong and there's a corner of your mind telling you that *this* is what you have to do about it. But I want to help you, and I know a place where there are more people who feel like you, and who'll understand you."

    Without moving her eyes away from the tunnel woman, because she's a little embarrassed, Petra says to the rest, "Sorry, Trideag. This one's mine."
Lilian Rook     'Naturally, we have no interest in forcing anybody here, but there's only so much we can do outside our perimeter.'
    'I only really talked about that tunnel lady at all. Y-you know, that one with the big bag that was painting X's all over?'

    "Oh. Her?" Lilian replies immediately, distaste evident right from the start. Lip curled, one eye narrowed, she looks between Odette and Dart as if hoping for a clarification that it could possibly be anyone else. She pinches the bridge of her nose, massages her temples, and drums her fingers on the hilt of her sword when none is forthcoming, and sighs, resigned, and focuses on Moses instead. She can tell, because they clap down over Odette's face and leading arm, cling to every piece of nearby scenery, leaning, tapping, flicking, picking up and examining, and finally come to rest on both her shoulders, as if to hold her level and steady to be looked in the eye, even though Lilian doesn't. Lilian actually replies to her, saying, "I didn't intend to. A call would have been nice." and then, pausing to stare at her, for some unknown cue, she presses a fingertip to Moses' chin, lukewarm, tingling, and knifepoint sharp, to tilt her head up to face her.

    'I hardly noticed she was one of your Fixers.'

    "Oh don't worry. I hardly notice myself." says Lilian. She covers her mouth to laugh and pats Odette on the back and clears her throat a second later, perhaps imagining that was unnecessary. She takes a business card from Ezra, when she isn't looking, which makes it feel worse when her spare hands pluck it out of her fingers to turn it over and look.

    'If I assumed correctly, I apologize- my assistant and I haven't yet made it through to any headquarters buildings, so there truly hasn't been the opportunity.'

    "It's fine, it's fine." Lilian says, waving Moses off with her hand. "I just so happened to see half a dozen of my Fixers all gather around here and felt it'd be irresponsible to hurry off on the spot. No harm no foul, as they say."

    'I don't see much of 'nything going on'

    Lilian raises an eyebrow all the same. Then she curls a finger around her chin, and curls others around Ezra's face, as if to pull her eyes wide to look into. The sound of scraping metal reaches her ears, followed by a hasty snap when Moses looks near the vicinity of her sword, which remains sheathed.

    'I'd prefer to not have more of a crowd.'

    "Consider it an escort." Lilian says. She turns on her heel, waves it over her shoulder, and adds "I'll be along shortly." A flirtatious finger-wiggling wave, a 'shoo-shoo' brushing gesture, two rude hand signs and a 'so-so' wobble follow her before She disappears.

    . . . . . . . .

    Lilian doesn't have time to walk around for an hour! She catches up with the group pretty late instead, having apparently shuttled her belongings off to their proper spots, clocked in at Laplace, downloaded her overnight data, set the machines to their self-clean cycle, begun a new batch of simulations, taken an unnecessarily formal 'lunch break' for someone who isn't actually an employee, and returned, making no uniform concessions save wearing her weapons and putting on knee-high outdoors boots instead.
Timespace Riders I'm Ezra, and I don't bite, can me and my grouchy old boss have a couple words..?

    Sougo smiles and nods. "I have a good feeling about this," he whispers back to Woz.

Tunnels... there's tunnels...

    "Detectives, if I may, following her through territory she is familiar with on her terms is inadvisable, unless there is no way around it. This book may advise as to her whereabots, and suggest any less... taxing means to arrive there, if any exist." He is fine advising accordingly, or at least consulting with the book.

    Whether the easy way or the *only* way, Woz and Sougo arrive in due time, though not without a put-upon sigh from Woz in the event of the latter, at the outset.

Sorry, Trideag. This one's mine.

    "Hi, Petra." Sougo laughs. "What are we going to do, fight you? That would kind of... stomp on everything we're about, wouldn't it? Fighting over who gets to help? And it wouldn't really help anybody, either. Detective Moses, your main thing is making sure Aperta is safe and happy, isn't it?"
Lilian Rook     As utterly irrelevant as she seems to suggest finding Moses, something the detective did, or didn't do, or said or didn't said, unfortunately appears to have caught her attention. The ambient conditions she brings with her make her reappearance far more jarring for one person than just the sound of heels suddenly taking the broken cement at a strut from ten feet behind; right after the 'Tunnel Woman' bolts. The absurdity of the moment, lacking any prior context, leaves her staring at Ezra, hands clutching her upper arms saying "I freed up thirty minutes and thought I'd come and see what you're up to. And it's this?"

    She certainly isn't first into that grimy little tunnel. Lilian considers turning back completely, even, leaving the others with a minute to themselves, until a dread premonition drives her down after them. Everything aligns just so that, at the critical moment, the Director of the Trídéag Association can catch the--

    'Sorry, Trideag. This one's mine.'

    "Petra?!" God dammit. "Are you joking!"
Odette Raskins "I hardly noticed she was one of your Fixers."
"I hardly notice myself."

Even without knowing the exact meaning of the Moses Glare, Odette can feel it boring directly into her regardless. It's enough to have her shrinking back a bit, and the comment to Lilian along with Lilian's reply puts a strained noise in the back of Odette's throat that sputters and dies where it starts.

She doesn't dare let it out (too) audibly or anything, of course, although there is a notable little quiver in her jaw that goes right along with her staring directly at the floor a little too long.

During the walk, Odette does perk up a little more when Ezra approaches her, but not quite enough to pull her all the way out of that earlier funk. At least she doesn't seem to notice the ambient picking on!
"Yeah... I've really been trying, but it's a.. A work in progress. How do you make it look so easy, Miss Ezra?" "Director Rook? N... No, it's nothing like that. I just don't want to let her and everyone else down. I'm supposed to be better than this if I'm a grade 7, but 'supposed to' and 'am' is... It's still a huge gap."

While she's hanging back, Odette too notices the bomb, and the worry on her face is evident. She's rather amazed, too, seeing Ezra just approaching the tunnel woman as if she wasn't holding an explosive right in front of everyone. Swallowing lightly the EMT keeps her white-knuckled grip on the corner while observing the Tunnel Woman, and then she sucks in a sharp breath when she starts running.

Joining in the chase, Odette's able to keep up well enough, although she's constantly on the lookout for anything coming back at her. Luckiyl, that doesn't happen, but seeing the blasted entrance does give her reason to pause. That pause doesn't last too long, however, once she hears the lady speaking to herself again. She does stop momentarily when she notices the tunnels leading even deeper in, glancing around briely at the unfamiliar texture.

"This doesn't look like anything I've seen around the City before. Is this-" Odette comments with a somewhat curious tone, then shakes the distraction out of her mind before continuing that chase. "Aaaah, later!"

Keeping up with relative ease and only a bit of bumping and bouncing off of the tunnel walls, Odette lets out a startled noise as she nearly trips over herself in her haste to slow down. The reason, of course, is seeing Petra's familiar face in blocking the retreating Tunnel Woman from escaping.

"Eh...? Oh! Hey, Petra. Do you two know each other?" Clearly surprised by Petra's presence, Odette nevertheless doesn't seem bothered by her surprise appearance. "I mean, we're here to help her, too, so maybe... It'll be easier if everyone's working together on this?" She asks/suggests, nodding along in easy agreement with Sougo. "Right! Miss Moses, Miss Ezra? Will that work?"
Distortion Dets.     It doesn't really matter if the hands are phantasms, when Moses's eyes flit to the ones near her face, it's an automatic impulse to try and jerk away from them, a motion she has to try, after starting on flinch-reflex, to turn into a more natural motion, like turning to exhale pipesmoke.

'Oh don't worry. I hardly notice myself.'

    Sympathetic-snickers sound from Ezra, quickly throwing a little shoulder-shrug apology, when Odette starts to actually look a little upset. That's really the end of what she can get from Ezra right now, though! She's on the job! Maybe it plays into chatting with her a little later?

'No harm no foul, as they say.'

    "Yes." Tense, it looks like Moses will add more, but at Ezra's pipe-up, and the subsequent attention from the hands, Moses just sticks her pipe back in her mouth, as if filling the air, just a bit more, will pose some chance of warding off the apparitions, like smoking-out bees and mosquitoes. It's more likely to make nobody want to sit in this alleyway with her any longer.

'Consider it an escort.'

    "Mm."

. . .

'You wish to see the tunnels? No, no, you should not see.'

    "You're right! I super don't want to see them, that sounds real scary!" Ezra puts her hands into an X-shape, and shakes her head. "But, you knowwww, my boss, she's also one to worry a lot about how wrong something is, around in the City..?"

    There's only so far back anyone can stay, to still keep up with this interaction- Moses herself could leave, but she needs to see this woman to give a say-so on her Distortion, and doesn't trust anyone else to not rush in. Details, imagery, Moses mumbles about it, half-spoken, only to those closest, '...Like a bore-hole through a face, something moving deep in the dark...' Tense-exhale, Moses braces to bolt, when Aperta actually notices, and startles, at the people around. "She's clearly on the brink of Distortion. If there's a chance to intervene-"

    And she's off. "Hey, wait, c'mon, really, none of them are so scary! Come back, aaaand.... Sigh. Bweh." She does actually say 'sigh'. Moses cuts the distance over to Ezra, already cursing out a "Damn it! It's the crowd, it's never easier with a group like this."

    Ezra stays looking off the way she ran, like she's waiting for the signal to go try and catch her- like she's also pretty sure she could go catch her, if need be. It doesn't come.

'Detectives, if I may, following her through territory she is familiar with on her terms is inadvisable,'

    "You may. I'm not going to follow a bomb-touting stranger in a blind chase. I'm not suicidal." A sigh- she is, however, very independent. A guide-book is as good as anything, she doesn't even assume it'll be magic, by agreeing.

. . .

    Neither Moses nor Ezra end up chasing her through the alleyway, instead, outside, to go through the cramped blasted-open tunnel, after Ezra fishes a couple flashlights out of her big bag of Stuff. Even the flashlights have stickers on them, Moses gets one with an owl, Ezra, a cute little rain-cloud. Quiet, they go about their spelunking, not rushing, running, or holding weapons, looking for footsteps in dust and mud, to track her by, or just the echoes of Aperta's rambling.
Distortion Dets. 'What are we going to do, fight you?'

    "You're kidding me." Another curse, "Damn! You can't believe she's actually safe with her." Or maybe Sougo can? Moses doesn't know him. Immediately, she steps to make distance from the Demon King, drawing herself and Ezra away from the other Fixers, allegiance-line clear-

    "Petra, I can't fathom what it is you're after, trying to kidnap her, but I hope she doesn't believe you." Aperta's her name, is it? Staring at the near-Distorted woman, improvising off of gleaned tidbits, "Aperta. That woman is dangerous, and works with, and for, people just as despicable as what's growing underneath the City. Ezra and I, we can help you, we're already trying. You aren't safe with her."

    Red glows bright around Moses' pipesmoke, and her pipe, like she's itching at twisting it into a weapon, to just try and shoot at Petra here, with the risk posed by whatever she's going to lead to next, but Moses can't even see Petra, and the dynamite...

    Cautious, worried, Moses taps Ezra's shoulder a few times, punctuated code, and Moses' assistance dips low to the ground, and through whatever resolve it takes Moses to quell down her personal anger, the smoke shifts to white, and the detective exhales a tunnel-filling cloud of white smoke, scentless, without acrid-tinge, stabilizing and softening to the pressures on minds within- it fizzles and hisses like a Wilson chamber, when it strays too close to Petra.

    "Listen to me," Moses says, too un-gentle, towards Aperta, for it to sound like anything but an order- still, there's an attempt there for whatever Aperta chooses to be, in some way, less-shaped by the immediate, frantic state she's in here.
Angela Aperta didn't know she was so popular either. Sometimes it feels like she's talking less to the people here but rather to someone who isn't there at all. Not even herself.

"This is a place to avoid getting caught." She tells Petra, backing up away from her. "How do you know my name?--No it doesn't matter. You have to leave. Help me with the tunnels. The City claims be a haven but it is a trap for our souls. We build a long tunnel we can escape their notice, we can return to where we're meant to be."

She takes being offered an explosive as a sign of agreement, though she puts her spraycan back into her oversized bag so she can actually hold it comfortably. Of course, she doesn't light the fuse because Petra is blocking her path and she's functionally trapped between her and the Fixers. "We have to hurry before the roots dig deeper. The tree... It's a sign. It has to be a sign. Something is growing deeper but nobody would imagine to skew our route out this way."

''You've probably been feeling pretty crazy''

Aperta shakes her head, though not vehemently. Like Petra is mostly correct but just slightly off. Deserving of clarification. "The world has gone mad, but I'm starting to see--" She taps the side of her goggles. "--Clearer than ever."

She senses kindness from Sougo. "Oh dear..." She says, as if talking to a lost child. "You don't understand. Safety was never an option. The illusion was part of the trap. You can see the wires and bait, but it can only end when we escape 'safety' and mire ourselves in danger and dirt."

''Aperta. That woman is dangerous, and works with, and for, people just as despicable as what's growing underneath the city.''

"I know."

Dart's at a loss for words but it's Weather Report who speaks up from the rear. "Then why... does it feel like you're considering going with her?"

"There is no safe path." She repeats her point to Sougo. She sets down her dynamite and pulls her goggles off of her eyes, setting them down with the dynamite in question. "It's through danger that we'll be free." Her gaze fixes onto Moses for a moment. "Guide them, the lost spirits out from the Underworld. I open tunnels, but they're not for me they come from me, they're not for me. My everything is buried here. It's for you."

She steps back towards Petra. "It's for you. You must dig." Her grey eyes, for those who aren't Moses, are grey and unfocused.
Petra Soroka "What are we going to do, fight you?"

    "Hi, Sougo. I mean, ideally not. That'd sort of be a huge issue, wouldn't it?" Petra's eyes flicker up to Sougo, and then across the others filtering in behind him, and whatever she sees emerging into the lanternlight allows her to keep her easygoing attitude.

    Odette's nervous, confused rambling draws her attention, but only in her vague direction before she loses interest. "But I'm not exactly offering a joint effort here."

"Are you joking!"

    Petra folds one arm across her chest, as Lilian's shout deafeningly fills the cramped space of the tunnel. "I, uh, make it a habit to avoid Trideag's territory, you know. It's funny that we've never bumped into each other like this before, but that's why."

"Petra, I can't fathom what it is you're after, trying to kidnap her, but I hope she doesn't believe you."

    "You know, I'm starting to wonder if you've got the worst luck in the world, Detective."

    Petra holds her *candy cigarette* between her knuckles and blows mockingly at the White cloud Moses's pipe is emitting. The mind-altering fog fizzles and fades, like an inverse exhalation of her own fake cigarette's smoke, leaving the space around Aperta's head strictly clear. Clearly visible with the lack of smoke around her, Petra pats Aperta reassuringly on the elbow, and smiles past her at Moses with her eyebrows raised.

    "I'm not kidnapping anyone. Aperta's free to come with me if she wants, and I'm offering her more than Trideag can. I can give her community, fulfillment, and answers. And Detective, every time I've seen you, you've been alone, desperate, and clueless."

"Something is growing deeper but nobody would imagine to skew our route out this way."

    "The worst thing is feeling like time's running out and everything's closing in around you, but what you're chasing after is just out of reach, huh?" Petra takes the near-delirious ranting with a sympathetic tone, petting the dynamite she handed Aperta. "What you really want to find is a colony underground. Not another one up top."

"It's for you. You must dig."

    Petra looks a tiny bit sheepish at Moses and Aperta agreeing that she's dangerous, and she taps her foot on the ground restlessly. "Well, that settles it. Wanna come with me and meet your new mining crew?"
Lilian Rook     Lilian had originally put Moses up to this job because it was free and peolpe seemed to vaguely interested in her. She'd forgotten all about it, then showed up anyways, because what was going on had seemed interesting. She had followed Moses back even after leaving because something about Moses' reactions had intrigued her all the same. And now that she's actually here, all Lilian can think about is Petra.

    Unbelievable.

    'Aperta. That woman is dangerous, and works with, and for, people just as despicable as what's growing underneath the City.'

    Lilian tears her eyes from her only to look at Moses for less than a second, surrounded by quivering fists, twitch-flexing claws, crackling knuckles; hands that pound the wall with the flat rub her own arms up and down, drumming impatiently on her sword hilt and squeezing the side of her neck, half-shielding her face one way and blotting out sight the other way, saying "Beg pardon? Who exactly is she working for, 'Detective'? Would you care to share that one with the class?" for the very short time she can maintain her focus. Because running into Petra of all people, here, just outside the place that's rightfully hers, wriggling around right under her nose, plotting and scheming and doing even more--

    'You know, I'm starting to wonder if you've got the worst luck in the world, Detective.'

    Moses perceives four solid seconds of endlessly recursive self-pinching and fabric tugging and restless phantom grip calm building up ahead of Lilian's reaction to Petra's slutty little candy cigarette drag boils over and spills. She blinks across to Petra with a slam so loud that it sounds like she fired a gun, though it comes from where the heel of her hand has impacted the wall right next to Petra's head, leaving her blocking off her egress, and in fact her view of anyone else without leaning.

    'I'm not kidnapping anyone. Aperta's free to come with me if she wants, and I'm offering her more than Trideag can.'

    Looming over Petra thusly, Lilian completely defines her silhouette in its absence. It's like a magnet clumping together black iron filings, revealing the the shape of its field in the patterns that crowd around it. The entire wall for around her is painted with backscatter formed of flat-palmed weight and scratching-tapping fingertips, with her body in the middle traced out by the fingers curled around her throat and laced between her fingers, laid over the back of her hand to take her cigarette with two, and impeding speech with just the thumb between her teeth; gripping her arms, holding her shoulders, draped around her waist; nails trailing down her sternum, into the collar of her suit, wriggling into the sleeves; pulling on her tie, her ponytail, her jaw, her hips, angrily squeezing her neck and her thighs and-- squeezes her eyes shut, breathes in and out with tremendous focus, and finds enough of a center to threateningly purr out,

    'Wanna come with me and meet your new mining crew?'

    "Aren't you just a bit too convinced that I'll let you off the hook? Just like that?"
Petra Soroka "Who exactly is she working for, 'Detective'? Would you care to share that one with the class?"

    Slammed up against the wall by Lilian, Petra's eyes widen for a moment, but she's too used to being handled by Lilian and too wrapped up in her performance to let this throw off her groove. Her eyes return to their half-narrowed state a second later, ponytail shaken loose and tangled up in the roots woven through the soil.

    Petra lifts her chin up to look at Lilian's face, a gesture accompanied both by a phantom grip on her chin wrenching it upwards and a palm on top of her scalp shoving her down. Opening her mouth knocks loose the breath blown out of her by the impact against the wall, but it's followed by a simperingly smug smile and lazily tilt of her head in Moses's vague direction.

    "Don't worry about that, Director. She barely knows one detail and thinks it's the whole truth. Some detective, right? There's nothing she could tell you that you wouldn't rather hear from me."

"Aren't you just a bit too convinced that I'll let you off the hook? Just like that?"

    "Besides, you're not mad at me. I'd be able to smell it."