Scene #9689: Angela's Asleep Let's Go Visit Redshifts

Owner	Pose
Redshift Operators	It's Apple Tree Island! The Redshifts have, at the very least, put their non-operational home there. This means they sometimes spend a month or two away, but more often reside there. The combination of practical isolation and a self-sustaining, albeit engineered, ecosystem, plus an attachment to the people who built the place, means that the Redshift Operators have spent more time there than not in the last few years. The small house they've put together with sheet-metal and sea-ecosystem-derived insulation is well-maintained. Modest, but nice to visit. The gruff leader of the group still has a welding mask on over his face when he gets back home from tasks out across the island, and the cyborg medic of the crew often has her surgical prosthesis (a prosthesis worn to perform surgeries, not the other way around) already off and slung over a shoulder in a satchel by the time she reaches the door. It's generally later in the day when the enforcer-turned-line-cook gets home, and the dutiful electronics repair technician only gets home shortly after the medic. Good time for a visitor to stop by. If he wants solo, he can get here early in the afternoon, when the man he's here to see is off work but the rest of the crew aren't. If he wants the whole crew around for it, he can arrive later in the evening. That was pretty clear from the chat with Red Dwarf, anyway.
Redshift Operators	Actually getting here is probably a matter of walking along dense shoreline residences from the warpgate at the harbor over to another region of the island. Nothing special about that, though the massive apple tree at the core of the island makes for an amazing sight, not to mention shade. It does not, to my knowledge, have proportionally-sized apples.
Angela	Roland has some time now that Angela has been stuck sleeping for a long while like she's playing catchup on a lifetime of not sleeping at all. Which is technically what she's doing. Tiphereth and Hokma have been looking after her for the most part. The Receptions haven't stopped either, so Tiphereth has taken over greeting people and she's not much more successfully dissuading people from challenging the Library. At this point, the system doesn't seem to require much input from Angela herself. The machinery lures people to the Library, they can't or don't or won't refuse to fight, and so it goes. But it does mean that he gets more time off and while he's had conversations with Red Dwarf, he hasn't had a real meeting with him in ages and he feels it's a good time as any to share his understanding of the Library situation with him. He sends a message to Red Dwarf as a heads up and asks him to pick out the place and then makes his way there. Roland hasn't actually been to APPLe Tree--sorry, Apple Tree Island before--but he is normal and polite and friendly and can find his way down to the ground without getting lost or attacked by seagulls. He is up front about who he intends to meet with to anybody who asks him and generally offers Rita his best wishes. He actually does kind of want to meet the rest of the team actually since he barely engaged with the rest of them and it seems polite and they might have their own views and he figures if they're on a team with Red Dwarf he can trust them to not immediately spill his identity to the Concord. And so, he arrives, in his suit and slacks and everyman persona and he's left his mask behind because it's not necessary. He doesn't get lost too much and he left a little early to account for the possibility, so he makes it roughly at the planned meeting time at the house. He is not visibly armed and he isn't wearing his gloves that Red Dwarf saw but, well, he has no reason to be. Any hidden weapons was probably to make it out of the City than to get involved in anything here. If someone's outside already, he waves but otherwise he'll knock on the door and say, "Hey, it's me, Roland. Thanks for agreeing to meet."
Redshift Operators	The man he's here to see is the one who answered the door. "Mm. Hey man. C'mon in." He gestures to the technician. "Run the scrambler, Newt." His friend, still wearing thick goggles and a respirator from the electronics shop, heads to a corner to start up a low-humming anti-surveillance machine, Watch-issue. "Grab a seat anywhere." Roland is invited to the not spacious but definitely quite cozy space. Double bunks economize on space in a few adjoining rooms. A couch with a dining table near its back is the backbone of a living space that doubles the space a kitchen opens up to. It's the best four people can do with no four-bed and it looks so lovingly lived-in.
Angela	Roland wonders when last he was in someone's home, even his own, as he gets a look inside. The realization that discounting places like with the Blooms, this is probably the first time since he met Red Dwarf to begin with and by that point it was no longer a home anyway. "Thanks, man." He says. He is more worried about Petra than Angela finding out he's up to something but he's done the Receptions without much complaint and Angela's been more permissible about his freedom of movement lately. "I figured I should update all of you about what I found. Since some of what I did ''find'' seems to have involved a lot of Elites, it's possible you've known some of the deal with the White Night Dark Days already, but I also ... have a feeling about where Angela's plan is heading."
Redshift Operators	The team's cook is already working in the kitchen on dinner (the shadow of his flat-cap obscures his face), and the medic (her surgical mask and goggles, of course, are still on) shortly wraps up a conversation she was having with the technician at the table, though both wave at Roland when he enters. They're rambling about television shows -- a dinky cathode-ray in the corner plays the simple local programming. The murmur mixes together with the anti-surveillance machine's light drone. With those two turning to properly engage Roland, and the giant bringing over some plates (rich seafood and rice dishes), the gang settle in at the dining room table, where no chairs match and one is offered freely to Roland. "A plan, huh. Let's hear it. Any risks of a repeat on that big night?" Roland's gruff friend rumbles. He quickly asides to his team, "This guy's one I pointed at making sure that White Nights and Dark Days stuff never happens again. Good fella." He scratches the side of his chin a little, muttering to himself, "Not liking the sound of high Elite involvement. Always makes stuff complicated. Not a lot of organization when you get enough of these people together."
Angela	It's a little new to Roland's understanding that he's a guy pointed at making sure that the White Night Dark Days doesn't happen again. Is that even true? Some part of him just wants to burn the entire City down to the ground. But he does have friends in The City, not least of which is Lilian and Olivier, but he less believes in saving The City and more believes in not being personally responsible in crushing the dreams of those trying to do SOMETHING because, largely, Angelica believed in them. Fortunately, Roland's natural expression is a bit of a grimace so it's not really easy to just pick that out from his facial expressions. The big question is: Could it happen again? "I don't think anything quite like the White Nights and Dark Days are going to happen again. At least not until the City adapts and decides to start, I don't know, trying to coopt Abnormalities and Distortions into their bottom line somehow. I think it's already happening actually, from what I've heard of what N Corp's been up to. The point of the White Nights seems to have been some mad scientist trying to revolutionize the City through one big act. I've heard that, like, maybe it didn't go well because Angela sabotaged it partway through, but it's impossible to know for sure if that was the cause of the Distortions." He looks to Red Dwarf and bobs his head in his direction. "But it's absolutely true that Distortions like the Pianist are gonna keep happening. They already have. Argalia--he's known as the Blue Reverberation--is collecting them like he's whaling on a gacha. I don't know why but I never got along with him, better to figure that out on your own, I'm biased as hell. Angela -- doesn't seem to really care about Distortions, though, it feels like she is pretty much wholly all in recollecting all that Light--that same sort of energy that erupted back during the White Night Dark Days." He is quiet a moment and then adds, "She intends to take that energy and use it for herself so that she can leave The City and become human. I don't know if anything will be left over or what, but pretty much every Sephirah--the team of people who were sort of middle management for LobCorp--is either resigned to the idea that they won't be able to get it back or are waiting for their chance." He mostly recognizes the medic and he turns to her, offering her a quick wave. "It's not just that though. She wants to gather the information in order to properly hit The Head. I don't know how many bodies she'll pile up to do that, or if she'll ''care'' too once she gets what she really wants, but she does talk about taking her revenge a lot. And the force that has outlawed her existence? That's ultimately The Head."
Redshift Operators	"If it won't happen again, and you're nearest where that kind of thing could happen and ready to kill," Mutters Roland's contact, between bites of seafood dishes. "Then you're doing the right thing in the right place. But you need to see if you can figure out what your shot is at stopping distortions." "A grand ritual..." The medic makes several wise, solemn sounds when she nods. "If she's seeking to drain the City of Light -- hear me out --" "Don't say something about the darkness." "I'm just saying," The medic dismisses her leader. "We should consider the validity of a plan to bring about a great absence of Light." "Come on." She swings her focus on Roland. "Killing the Head is a worthwhile task. So is reducing the manifestation of those curses. Like winning a battle royale, being the last one standing is noble and obvious. But you're supposed to challenge the game-masters, at some point, and not just stop at the victor. That's how this sort of story ends. Otherwise, the cast grows far too thin." Her gunman partner rolls his eyes. "Dumb way of saying it." He says. "But I agree. She got fucked by a game. Now she wants to win it. No telling if she wants to end it." He gestures with his fork at Roland. "You can tell this is still a 'game' she's 'playing' because she's got a competitor, and he's a real shitheel that's close to the system."
Angela	"I don't ... I'm not a science person or a magic person and this is starting to feel like it's half of each. People go out into the Outskirts and beyond to find shit like this all the time. Usually on the behalf of a Wing or a prospective Wing or one of the Fingers. Then they figure out how to capitalize on it." He frowns. "But even compared to the effects of the Singularities I've seen, I haven't seen anything like a Distortion before. Maybe---no, the big difference is anybody can Distort. Wing leaders, people at the lowest of the low. Anybody." He considers the idea of just draining the City of Light. "I mean, that is sort of what Angela's doing. I don't know if that would stop Distortions at this point, but it's the only thing I can imagine that might." He pauses. "Outside of, you know, totally changing the very fundamental nature of The City to the point that nobody feels the need to." Which feels a little more like magic to him right now than even the Light right now. Some part of Roland wonders where it actually all ends. There's so much bureaucracy and powers and invisible alliances... "That might be why the books." Roland considers. "The truth is, Angela's pretty naive about how The City works. Less now than before she 'hired' me, but she's never stepped outside--there's only so much she CAN now. And some of what she's learning, hell some of what I'm learning--is from those books she's been collecting. Maybe she figures she can reach that 'gamemaster' if she keeps analyzing those threads but the problem is..." He shrugs both shoulders and fans out his hands from side to side. "The Head doesn't send out Arbiters that often and to hear Gebura tell of it, even one is a match for her. There's gotta be way more than one. Angela's not a fighter--actually she's getting more killable rather than less with every book she collects. If the Head really wants to take her out, I don't know if we've got what it takes to stop them. And even if they do--lots of people just trying to survive are gonna bite it way before that's even a glint in their eye." He nods to the gunman and adds, "And you're right. I think there's even odds she decides it's not even worth the bother once she can leave. I think she's just as likely to just leave out into the multiverse and abandon The City entirely. Hell, can't even blame her." But that would ultimately mean not going after the gamemasters. He leans back against his chair. "...Yeah. It's still a game. And she's using The City's rules to play it." He looks down at his hands for a long moment. There's something he's holding back on about that. And considering how readily he shares with the Redshifts... But he can't hold out any longer. "What're you making by the way? Smells good." He asks the chef.
Redshift Operators	The giant answers Roland's question with a gravel-rumble. "In this place, you keep what you kill." The seafood is extra-large... A plate of that rice-and-fish meal is set in front of Roland. The spare knife that the giant had is a boning knife with only a few flecks of fish ichor. "And the killing is difficult." Those fish are so big and scary! Though they're no longer so viciously lethal towards humanity. So it's okay! Not a science person or magic person? "Same. You get a feel for it though. And you're right, when the Company gets ahold of something amazing they squander it, but when it's just... random lottery?" The co-conspirator grumbles and puts his palms over his eyes, under his welding mask. "Can turn out a lot worse. Just amplifies the bad that's already there. Sure did in the Dark Days." "A fresh perspective like hers," The ninja-medic chimes in. "Can be a powerful advantage or a massive weakness, and in all likelihood, both." She moves her left amputated arm-stub as if she were gesturing with a free hand, an artifact of spending half her time with a prosthetic on. "It can also be a moral faling, in many ways. Knowing nothing of the world can make you more prone to believing the first thing you hear, or committing to the first thing you feel." She leans forward, one hand in a position where it would be laced with its opposite. "People with 'absolute' convictions rarely are so absolute as they seem. I've encountered people whose agendas weren't half as real as they seemed in their own hearts. And the shrapnel of something like that snapping..." She shakes her head. "It's likely that the White Nights and Dark Days were already something like that breaking in motion. I would be cautious of believing in her, until she earns it." Then, an easygoing broad shrug. "Although, white-hair-and-dream-driven-agenda solidarity, of course." "Yeah, fuckin' of course." "If the goal is to help her, then getting books is how you help her. If the goal is to stop her, then getting books is how you get her away from the Head. If the goal is to kill her, then gettng books is what you do to make her killable." The rather quiet one suddenly speaks up, staring at their fish dish. "You should probably get the books." The gunman shrugs blankly. He can't really make an objection to any of that.
Angela	Roland tells Red Giant, "Damn, you hunted that yourself?" with unsubtle admiration. He isn't exactly surprised by 'sea monster souffle' exactly but he does say, "Some day I'll have to make you some sundubu-jjigae, my treat." He's reminded of the days in Charles' office, and he's sort of imagining these people with that kind of vibe already. Though his team broke up ages ago, this one feels like it's going on strong. He remembers the fond back and forths and shit-talking and friendly jabs, but also the real way they all looked out for each other. None of his old companions, though, would appreciate how he's going about things now. They might understand, but they could never support. Their sense of ethics and morality and what makes a proper Fixer mean he's in it alone. Even Olivier...would draw his blade just for having any sympathy for Angela at all. Roland isn't so keen on the 'random lottery' either but that's probably to be expected considering who lost that raffle. But he says, "It sure feels random. Though I think I'd prefer that than the idea that they're being intentionally targeted." But as someone who is a bit of a ninja himself, Roland feels a subtle understanding between him and the ninja-medic. "Yeah, I guess I could say the same for most Elites, their perspectives are usually pretty 'Outsider'," Which makes it kind of startling how well Lilian and Petra adapted. "But you're right. We might have the same target, or she might just decide to be the next big problem for everyone. Or, hell, both. Evidently she's done that ''before'' so." ''You should probably get the books.'' Roland nods to himself slowly. "If she's just gonna be an endless force of death or just another Star like all the rest, I'll put her down. If it looks like she intends to replace the Head or walk away, the same. I'll try and wait as long as possible to remove as much Light from the City as possible. Maybe Distortions still happen, maybe they're just weaker, or maybe they stop entirely. But I trust Lilian's method in fighting for The City. I don't think Distortions are needed." He sighs. "If that happens, I wouldn't expect to survive, though. Petra or someone will see to it and she'll get me eventually." He pauses. "Please don't try to save me, I don't want you to get multiversal heat over this." He's not entirely sure even Lilian would accept it so easily. "But if she's willing to care about society at all, I'll protect her."
Redshift Operators	"That girl, Petra, she's relentless." The gunman mutters, prodding at a chunk of rice. "And she's got a killcount on Elites that'd make me nervous going toe-to-toe. But she's a person. Don't get her wrong. She'll understand, if you feel, and things go wild." He gets a good mouthful. "Or she'll kill you. S'how it goes. You do what you gotta do. As long as you don't waste your life, you've only really got what you spend. Nearly died doing something like what you're doing, once, and you know what I thought while I was biting it?" He looks up from his meal properly. "I wanted to live, but only so I could take responsibility. I thought real hard about giving up, on account of, it'd help me do a lot without so much effort. So, you go into this and you wanna give up? Sure. But you better make sure the deal's good. You live or you die because that's what gets the job done, and that's how you take your responsibility for what you want. It ever comes to it, you don't take the easy way out. That means easy living, or easy dying." The others are staring at him a bit. "What? ...I wanted to stick with my team, too." "Of course. I'd hardly allow you this dying-in-the-snow fantasy." "You're one to talk about bullshit fantasy!" "You're not allowed death like that." "Christ, 'not allowed'. You're not my dad!" "None of your goals are best served by dying." "Yeah, well, bullets is bullets, not goals..." They rambunctiously argue over the meal.
Angela	Roland didn't know Petra had a killcount on ''Elites'' but Roland had plenty of reason to be anxious about her. One of the things that made him anxious about Petra is that she was sometimes a little silly with it. Roland has fought a lot of monsters or Fixers who were professional as all out, but someone who could be a goofball sometimes? That worries him more than her words or her evident skill and powerset. She's got something besides herself she's fighting for, and all he has is revenge. And while The City is a place where that difference doesn't mean much, Roland would like to believe that it mattered. That being ... being a PERSON mattered more than being an instrument of the City drilled down to the bone. Like almost everyone in his world before that day was. Everyone except for her And it aches, seeing this family be a family. He feels like an interloper, even as much as they understand him and support him, he barely knows much about their story. All he really knows is that they understood when it felt like the world had gone mad right when he needed understanding. They probably pulled him out from a much darker place. And he's not sure he's grateful for that. But what if Petra goes after them because they helped him. Because she's a bit of a goofball, he really can't be sure if she'd shrug that off, if she'd understand, or if she'd make it a purpose. The gunman's talk about her doesn't really make it easy. "Well, I suppose The City ''would'' want me to sell it for a low price, but I think I can strongarm 'em into a good deal." He cracks a smile with his dark humor. Responsibility, huh. It's hard to think about it when a part of him just wants to die so he stops feeling this pain even amongst friends. He smiles as the gunman's team starts giving the gunman the business and he takes a moment to eat since he doesn't have to exposit for a while. "I'm glad you stuck with your team, man." He says. "Can't imagine it'd be this lively without you."