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Foundation Scions	For the weeks and weeks of the Roscorla-Wagner encampment's existence, the St. Pavlov Foundation's position, and sentiments, have been portrayed most clearly through the continued skirmishing of guards against so-far holding defenses, managed meticulously; or by designated emissaries, and the radio-chattering of representatives, such as the FDMO's pair.     Beyond letters, hand delivered, at the start, and a series of fruitless early meetings with the arcanists returned from 1929, those encamped largely haven't even met any of the people running the show. They simply haven't been interested, or seen a point- despite, largely, no real change here, in the encampment, something else seems to have changed that. The evidence is a stressed looking masked Foundation clerk, waving a white (and grey checkered) flag on a stick, attempting to cross the established no-man's-land with a rolling equipment case of some sort.     Understandable hesitance to parley is met by stubborn-desperate continued efforts, and frantic explanations of 'I'm just a messenger,' 'I'm supposed to deliver this, and that's all,' and 'The Vice President, she wants to talk with you lot.' Beyond that, and the nerves under vigilance, when humored, all he wants to do, and does, is lug the heavy case in, to assemble near to a flat concrete wall of Roscorla-Wagner, wherever kudzu and ivy doesn't stain.     What's assembled, as-explained, and as-verifiable, is a complicated projector, with lights and lenses, pantograph-shaped transceiver radio antennae, and a half-dozen fisheye lenses on articulating brass clockwork mountings, for two-way video projection and reception. It doesn't appear, even under investigation, to do anything more than that, and as soon as it's turned on (with a key held by the staffer), the wall projects a countdown-display until connection, surrounding the St. Pavlov Joint Council's crest.     The staffer, as soon as he can, takes opportunity (or begs) to be let go, and get back across to the rest of the Foundation; while the countdown tics, tocks, down, not to anything direly ominous but Vice President Constantine herself, in a window-illuminated chamber, throne-like, stiff-shouldered to match the concrete construction. Her own appearance is ornate and professional, practiced pleased poker face, and she's lacking any preparatory fidgeting behaviors such as thumbing through notes and speech-cards.     On the projection, wall-sized, the vice president is dead still, staring cold-straight ahead, until implicitly given an out of frame cue, as the device's cameras whirr and whine, capturing the scene for unseen screens in her meeting room, for an unseen audience, or perhaps just Constantine. Her voice is stiff, clipped, and with a very slight hint of vocal fry, when she starts with,     "Have you all had your fun?"
Odette Raskins	Today's a good day for Odette! Things could always be better, but they vcould certainly be worse, and she's brimming with energy as she gets ready to go through a new part of her routine: Checking up on everyone involved with the suitcase rebellion. She's in the middle of doing some non-invasive physicals and passing out little packets of sweet electrolyte-packed drink mix (Company-branded, of course) when she hears something unfamiliar coming from no-man's-land. "Is that a...? Did they send someone to talk?" Against what might very well be her better judgment, the medic greets the messenger with a brisk wave and actually tries to tamp down his frantic energy with some refreshingly calm energy of her own (or calm for her, anyway). There's only a moment's hesitation before she heads out to join him, escorting him and his weird-looking case in. "Easy now. You'll be okay, we're not monsters or anything! You didn't get hurt on the way in or anything, right?" She asks, both to verify and to assuage any fears that he might get eaten. She's not going to keep him there, either, and she'll even shoot a (relatively) stern look at anyone that does try! She'll wait until he's gone to actually take a closer look at the projector, oohing and aahing at its construction and whatever wires might be in use with Foundation technology compared to the Company's. The countdown does make her a little anxious, but she's willing to give the Foundation the benefit of the doubt here. "Who...? Um." She pauses to watch the unmoving form of Constantine on the wall, remaining almost as still herself sheerly from the poise on display. Her eys dart around a bit, though, glancing over at everyone else watching this to see if anyone conveniently identifies Constantine for the rest of the group. "Have you all had your fun?" Odette straightens up a bit in her seat at suddenly hearing anything, staring right at Constantine's projection and not being quite whether or not this is just a recording. "W... We aren't having fun?" She speaks aloud with just a bit of apprehension, desperately hoping she isn't actually talking to a recording. "We're here to work and... And to get our point through about working to protect Arcanists and stop the Storm."
Holly Asturias	The staffer, as soon as he can, takes opportunity (or begs) to be let go, and get back across to the rest of the Foundation.     While it was not the Revenant who came to greet the poor messenger, having been in the middle of her daily(ish) check-in on the medical supplies left in the Suitcase (thankfully, no cause to worry, and everything's tidy and in order now, if it wasn't before), it is definitely her who settles by his nervous little self, even as the projector begins counting, piling the reassurances on along with Odette.     "Ah, please! Won't you stay until we're done? I should think your say matters too, that is the whole point of this, isn't it?"     A hand happily comes to rest on his shoulder, Holly being nonchalant, happy, clearly in as good a mood as she comes. The fact there are no more FEAR ROCKS is a huge factor.     "You're a little bit nervous. Please, relax! It's bad for your heart to be this tense, and bad for your back to be this stiff. A chair? A snack? Oh, tea? Do let us make you comfortable wh    While this is ongoing, won't you?"     How dreadful it'd be to be thought of as savages. "Have you all had your fun?"     But who is that? Holly isn't familiar *enough* with the Foundation, so it takes her a wh    While to put name to face, if anyone's even filled her in at all. "Of a sort, I suppose! The concert was great, and the little easter egg hunt was a nice little distraction from it all." Holly places a hand on her heart, just a bit more polite and formal than usual. "Director Holly Asturias, Concord Partner and physician. It's nice to finally get to speak to someone, or perhaps it's nice to finally be listened to just a bit?"
Riku Asakura	Riku was already here, once more carrying supplies to the Suitcase and making sure the Rebellion would be well fed come what may.  When someone calls for him to come up, he's surprised to see the man carrying equipment under a flag of truce.  He looks around at the others and shrugs.   "I guess someone wants to talk?"  Riku can't shake the hope that it's word that the protesting had been successful and that the trouble that people on the inside of the Foundation have come to fruition.  He watches the Staffer set up the equipment, not trying to let himself get TOO excited, but he hopes that it's something good. 'Won't you stay until we're done?' "Aw, come on, let the poor man go back.  If he were here to do anything, it would have already been done..." Riku says to Holly.   When the man asks to leave, he opens the way for him and makes sure to close it the moment he's through.  Just in case they had sent Matilda again with more fear rocks.   The woman who appears is someone he doesn't know; he's never seen the Vice President of the Foundation before, so he wonders what this is about.  Did the resolution go through?  Is this a negotiation?  Something isn't sitting right... 'Have you all had your fun?' That almost certainly is not something someone says before they open negotiations.  In fact, he is sure he's heard that said out of Kei Fukuide's mouth at least once.  The kind of tone you have with a child with their hand in the cookie jar or to an inferior foe.   "Are you here to negotiate the conditions that we've set out?" Riku asks carefully.
Regulus	Regulus's devotion to peace and respect for the flag of parley has been weakened as of late. Once, the flag was used to deposit a half-dead Schneider at their feet--one the messengers fully believed was totally dead and while this gesture of parley proved indirectly helpful and may have saved everybody's life, it still sucked! And then Matilda, while technically not waving any such flag, used the opportunity to seed the area full of tiny pieces of quartz that would unleash a spooky illusion upon those unlucky enough to trip it. Regulus has been spending much of her time on site helping clean the place up of these pieces of quartz but it's wholly possible there is still the rare rock ready to make your day a little bit more awful. So really the messenger gets the third degree from Regulus, asking what they're up to, what sort of trap they've got planned, who sent them and if they've conceded to their demands and so on and so forth. But the lure of 'The Vice President wants to talk with you lot' is, well, not bait Regulus can avoid chomping on so reluctantly she lets the messenger in. "But I'm watching you, love, don't try anything tricky!" Of course, the messenger is constructing a projector--tech that Regulus has gotten more familiar with over the course of her stay in the media center, but even if it was something else it'd be pretty tough to sneak a trap into this while she's staring down and ready to start blasting light rays at a moment notice. "It seems legit..." Regulus murmurs and she doesn't seem inclined to take the staffer prisoner herself, at least, though if someone else wants to give them a hard time about it she won't stop 'em. ''The countdown timer.'' "Geeze, why not put more red flashing lights on it, why didn't you..?" She has never actually met Constantine herself. Despite this being Regulus, she weirdly doesn't step in to speak before Holly and Odette, instead glancing over to Riku for a moment--no doubt thinking about what he's putting on the line here. "The Foundation's current set of policies doesn't just get people killed who could otherwise be saved--even ones that could help the Foundation. It also discourages the Foundations off-world allies and locals who are hesitant to support the Foundation because they are given little reason to trust the Foundation, only ultimatums. I feel like the Foundation's been playing games, like we're the game pieces to push around. Has this been fun?"
Holly Asturias	"Aw, come on, let the poor man go back."     "Quite the contrary! It is *because* he hasn't done anything untoward that we should offer him hospitality. We aren't the Foundation, after all. Our doors are open and our tea is always ready."     That's kind of the whole idea of Team Timekeeper, isn't it?     At least just a little bit.     There is no malice in Holly's smile, even when the vampire's fangs are all too obvious, when she turns back to the guard and asks: "So won't you please? Besides, we might have use for another opinion in the pile."
Tamiel Luxis	"If he were here to do anything, it would have already been done..."     "It's true...I'm sure they've been careful to control their messaging." She chewed on her lip, briefly. "Probably, they already know exactly what they want to say, and what offer they'll make. If...Anything." Zazel had been more hands-on lately, with the ongoing rebellion, than she usually was. "It would probably just get him in trouble, if he said anything that wasn't written and approved three times before, by the same people who want to talk to us." She never liked to say ANYTHING explicitly when she could be roundabout about it, instead, but she had a feeling her teacher approved.     Probably.     She hoped?     Tamiel wondered what her mom would say about all this. Whether she'd care. It wasn't a thought she lingered on for very long. She eyes the machine with some wariness, but when Regulus gives her 'okay' to it, she allows her worries to take a backseat, fiddling, trying to burn off nervous energy.     She can't help but feel outclassed, when the vice president comes on screen. Poised. Controlled. She wondered, for a moment, whether she was actually a person, or just some...Hologram? Presentation? It made her still her hands. Heedless of this, her wings continued to flit, behind her, betraying her nervousness.     "Has this been fun?"     "It hasn't exactly been a camp...Our demands have been very straightforward and reasonable." She tried to remember Timekeeper's suggestions, back in the radio, so long ago. "The Timekeeper released. And allowed more independence." She fought the desire to glance toward Regulus, searching for approval.
Ein	Druvis III had accepted a messenger without bothering the poor stressed-out bearer too much. Like a bomb walked with a smile into the enemy gates, sweating that it would go off, it seemed a little much to ask any one person. She hadn't followed the device in, but the druid had made her way to the presentation-room, staff in crossed arms, entering through a shattered upper level access that she slips through quietly and making her way to the floor, Only to be towered over, by Constantine. --- Meanwhile, Gwendolyn Vera Sotheby had become bored. Bored! With a very emphatical capital extra-actical 'B'!!! There had been weeks, months, years, entire cen-turies of time that passed (a week since last time she asked), but there was no Mister Karson, there was no Ms. Moissan, and there was no satisfaction at all from this forever shoreline retreat. Where even was she? A mansion whose grounds were a lake and mists and forests? There were several other children, including a clever scout, who had offered to share her maps if she had 'behaved', but Sotheby was quite all-right on her own! Truly! But oh how she longed for something novel! With perpetual access to the Suitcase it became Grounds, became boring! She wanted to be where the party was! Thus, she sat in what amounted to a committee meeting with a happy, joyous bounce to her patiently awaiting with hands patting knees and big big hat wobbling with eager vibrations. "No, not at all! In fact, I must say I'd like a little more fun? If we're asking, of course, ma'am!" Sotheby brightly declares. Druvis sighs. "You'll have to excuse me." She stars, and then stops, and hangs there, as if that's all she'll have to say. Closing eyes, and sighing, Druvis finally adds: "I've not thought this fun from the start."
Foundation Scions	'Of a sort, I suppose!'     Constantine's fingers steeple together, with weight placed on her elbows, to lean forwards. This answer, first, draws a reaction from her, but not one of words. 'Director Holly Asturias, Concord Partner and physician.'     "I'm quite aware, Doctor. There's no need to waste time on introductions. If you sought to make a good impression, you wouldn't be here now, would you?" Amused tone, but utterly lacking in amusement. 'Are you here to negotiate the conditions that we've set out?'     "Mr. Asakura. I know all about you by now, and I can't say that I'm pleased. Unruly and out of line, you've forgotten how all of this works, and let yourself think you're accomplishing something with this, dalliance, from your proper place."     "This is an embarrassment, but only a small one, in the face of history, and the grand aims of our Foundation. I'd caution you to remember, before any of this 'negotiation' nonsense, what the stakes at play even are. What reason do I have to hear what you have to say? You're the miscreant squatters in a building, while our Foundation toils onwards."     "The future is decided upon by votes, reason, and stability. From what I see, you promise none of these, and rebel against that which does, martyring your time and opportunity. What have you gained from it?" Votes were always instrumental to the plans Vertin put in place, of course. That Constantine brings it up unprompted could mean it's been put on her mind.     Regulus' spiel results in the Vice President's fingers twitching, in their steeple, from some visible escaping of annoyance, frustration, or boredom. Slight wrinkles to the sides of her tight-lipped smile stay still. Rather than interrupt, or answer immediately, she stays quiet for a long moment, to deny her proper rhetorical tempo. When she speaks, finally, she's smiling truer- wry and mocking and annoyed.     "It pains me to hear that the grand system of the Foundation has been misconstrued such, Regulus. Had you the eyes to see the whole field at hand, you'd understand the careful balancing needed for stability, for this to be a bastion. Protecting arcanists, saving the damned, why, you've made it obnoxiously clear you'd prefer to help in nothing of the sort. Game pieces have their parts to play, and hardly stray on their own from the plan. I'd prefer to hear that from you after you've found your place, and not before."     Her hands, finally, unsteeple, only for an off-screen attendant to place down a glass of water in front of her, which she picks up to drink from, a moment to glance at the screens she's no doubt viewing this by, assess, and pivot to others speaking. 'I must say I'd like a little more fun? If we're asking, of course, ma'am!'     The wry smile remains, for, "I'm afraid you've found yourself in an unfortunate place for just that, Ms. Sotheby. Arrangements could be made, with the proper concessions. As shows of good faith, of course." Transparently aiming for an apparent vulnerability, shameless. 'I've not thought this fun from the start.'     "I've not either, Ms. Weyerhaeuser. I do wish you'd have spared yourself the inconvenience. But, here is where we find ourselves."
Riku Asakura	Riku gives Holly a face, one that screams 'come on now'.  He's not here to hold anyone hostage, and the poor man is scared enough to want to go back; he doesn't want to cause any more suffering than the poor man has already gone through just to be here.  However, he doesn't say more because the Vice President is there with them now.   Riku also glances back at Regulus, but isn't deterred in his place.  He gives her a half smile, letting her know that he's alright.  He turns his head back to Constantine.  She calls him unruly and out of line, and declares he's forgotten how it works.  Riku's face goes harder than it normally does; it's not a look he normally takes.   "If that were true, then why even talk to us?  You see, ma'am, when people talk... especially like you have done to us, it's because they want to seem to be in a position of power, when they're playing with the same deck I am." Riku doesn't grab for water or take his time thinking.  Right now, what he has to say comes from his heart and nothing else.  "If you're not here to talk terms, then what are you here to talk about?  You also say the Foundation goes on, but why bother to talk to us at all if that were true?" Riku shrugs for a moment.  He's got somewhat of an idea, but he doesn't want to step on Regulus' toes either.
Foundation Scions	'If that were true, then why even talk to us?'     "It is my hope, as always, to help guide our Foundation to the most satisfactory, and stable, future, to return towards. Here? And now? Why, I'm offering you the good graces to surrender, return home, and face far less of a mess than you so carelessly, and heartlessly, risk tumbling into."     "Your confidence is unfounded. Look around you. If you've truly imagined yourself in a strong position, tell me, why have I had to stay the hands of frustrated counselors who'd prefer you driven off by force? I assure you, the decks at our fingertips are very different."     It's optics that motivate the reason the Foundation has resorted to pressure, rather than force, as to why it's guards, in annoying skirmishes, rather than the likes of its elite Investigator squards, or Zeno troops. Expense as well, but secondarily. A group preferring not to make martyrs is a wholly different beast than one sufficiently handicapped by a pestering encampment.     "And, the title is 'Madam Vice President', Mr. Asakura, not 'Ma'am'. I forgive you the blunder, but I expect better from you."
Regulus	''You've made it obnoxiously clear you'd prefer to help in nothing of the sort.'' Regulus says, "This is barely even about me." Regulus says. "But I actually have helped out the Foundation plenty. By helping Vertin. But because I won't sign paperwork that surrenders my autonomy, you're acting like I haven't changed since I first showed up, terrified because I didn't know anything." ''She fought the desire to glance towards Regulus, searching for approval.'' Regulus is tense enough that hse doesn't notice Tamiel's struggles but it's probably a good thing, she'd be sooo frustrated by that. But she does seem to agree with Sotheby that more fun WOULD be nice as she gives the little lady a fond pat on the shoulder before reaching for her hand, perhaps hoping to siphon off some of that nigh-invincible Sotheybness into herself. Or at least to remind herself what the whole Suitcase is meant for and it's dream. But it's also pretty clear that just trading barbs back and forth isn't going to help, so Regulus takes a breath. "What we want is that vote, Ma--dam Vice President." Regulus says. "If we signed those papers, we know it would've never happened. People'd just think 'why bother changing anything'? I believe there's people in the Foundation--maybe even with much greater vision than me--" She taps her sunglasses to accentuate the point. "--who believe in the Team Timekeeper proposal. I'm putting my faith in them." Regulus has no idea that Riku has an idea either, but her bobbing of her head to the point of 'why even bother to have this conversation then?' is a sign that she at least believes he's on the right track with that. "Right now the arcanists out there don't feel protected. Whatever the grand design is, you know that's true. Vertin's got a knack for reaching out to them. Why not let her?" Truth be told, Regulus's opinions about the Foundation have actually improved during the course of her time with Vertin, even if it was largely thanks to Sonetto. This isn't to say she doesn't still have a load of issues, but she thinks about how bizarre, strange, and uncomfortable it felt suddenly being on what felt like the pro-Foundation side against Lilian's antipathy for the organization for a time there. She wonders if maybe she's as much the anarchist as she had thought she was. What she didn't tell Petra is that the reason she acts like victory is assured isn't just because she has to, but because she's been assured by more than one person she broadly trusts that it'll work out in their favor. She can't let herself be less confident than them, at least not where anybody can see it. "You're also staying their hands because you know that'd be a bad move, Madam Vice President." She's sure the VP knows just how well hitting someone in the face with a gas canister worked out in the past.
Odette Raskins	EARLIER "Do let us make you comfortable while this is ongoing, won't you?" Holly's show of hospitality gets an amused giggle out of Odette. "I'm not going to complain if you want to stick around for the conversation with the Vice President. Although if she's expecting you to come back right away, maybe..." She channels a bit of slacking energy, then snaps her fingers. "You could sit somewhere out of sight? Y-you know, to catch your breath a bit." "Aw, come on, let the poor man go back." "Our doors are open and our tea is always ready." With both kinds of concern on display, there's no way this couldn't put a good image of Team Timekeeper in the guy's head! With another amused giggle, Odette actually takes a moment to munch on some pilfered snacks from home and picking out some pretzel pieces to finish off first. "Sugar, cream, ice?" LATER Finally putting two and two together, Odette realizes that Constantine is, in fact, that very Vice President! She's glad, then, that everyone else is willing to take Constantine to task and makes things easier for her to piggy back off of, listening in particular to Regulus' approach and the responses to everyone's accusations. She's not sure what to address herself at first, but... "from your proper place." "What reason do I have to hear what you have to say?" "You're the miscreant squatters in a building, while our Foundation toils onwards." "What have you gained from it?" Almost everything Constantine says rubs Odette the wrong way, and she finds the hairs on the back of her neck prickling slightly with growing discomfort. It's one thing to hear Elites saying that about someone like herself since she knows full well what said ElLites can do, this doesn't give Odette quite that good of a first impression. "We've seen the people of the Foundation working to save people from the Storm already. We've worked with them, and they do really good work. They've seen us, and they know we do good work. We want to keep working with them, not around. W-we want to save more people than we've seen from the last two Storms we've been through just like the fol-mm. The people of the Foundation do. That means we need to be able to trust each other that we do want the same thing. So how-" Odette pauses to wipe her nose off with a pocket tissue, not realizing until just then that she'd been a little stuffed up the whole time. "-how are we supposed to trust you if you keep talking down to us like that, like... Like you don't need us? If the Foundation's that stable and that strong, then... Yes, why are we here at all?"" "In fact, I must say I'd like a little more fun?" "I've not thought this fun from the start." "I've not either, Ms. Weyerhaeuser." Didn't Druvis not like that the last time Odette called her that? That gets her hackles raised slightly, and she too takes a drink from her bottle of cleaner-blue fluid before speaking up again. "Miss Sotheby." Odette's jaw locks slightly as she fucks up her attempt to correct Constantine immediately, and she takes a light breath through her nose before trying to just slip right through that. "S... Shouldn't have been attacked by the Foundation's employees, Vice President Constantine. And Miss Druvis-" She puts extra emphasis on Druvis' name there. "-not... What you said before." Odette tries to sound stern that time, too, although the fire isn't quite as hot as it could've been a few seconds earlier. She strongly considers finding a corner to hide in, but maybe it'll just get missed in the shuffle. She really hopes it does.
Holly Asturias	"If you sought to make a good impression, you wouldn't be here now, would you?"     "Oh? Oh! I wonder who said what? Or have you just been listening? That would make sense," Holly taps her chin, before snapping her fingers and keeping to her wide smile. "But I think I need to disagree. Making an impression is never so one-sided is it? Making a good impression with you might mean making a poor one with someone else. The present crowd, I'd say. So it's more like I've weighed whose opinion I value most. Or..."     Hands on hips, a bit of a look down. A bit of a sigh, too.     "It's really more about one Schneider Greco, and making sure that tragedy can't happen again. I think that dear Vertin has that to heart." "Protecting arcanists, saving the damned,"     But as negotiators go, Holly is out of place. She isn't an arcanist, and so not directly impacted, with concrete demands to fixed lived difficulties. At best she knows what she's been told, and a bit what she's seen, and a lot of what she's inferred, whether correctly or otherwise. "Do you? Protect arcanists, I mean. This building has an unreasonable amount of empty space, for being the one place people could survive in. How do you triage the people you'll save from the Storm? You can't save everyone, I'm not so deluded as to think that, but surely more than you currently do? That people feel they need to turn to the Manus at all, at great risk, rather than taking your hand, isn't that..."     Holly clears her throat. That's a bit presumptuous, and she realizes halfway through the statement. "I'm sorry, but you must realize how it looks? And then there's Vertin, disallowed from taking action when she has the second place people could survive in."     A pause, again.     "Except when it isn't," she grumbles, a bit disheartened by the Suitcase's functioning and discrimination still.
Ein	Sotheby, first to be spoken to, snaps up to railsharp attention, a clever look to eyes ad a Proper Lady's assertion in the moment. Shoulders square, head high, eyes straight (and up a bit), Sotheby. . . Listens? To the words? Processing them in the way of Sotheby, the little lady blinks her eyes, and smiles on a sort of drilled rote instinct after it, and cants her head slightly. "Oh. It's a shame the Foundation is an unfortunate place for that, then! I decided to attend since there was *some* hullabaloo about the events with your messenger, but if it's not feas-ible," She pronounces it like 'feez-ible', hard on the noise, scrunching nose as she does. "I don't think I'm to negotiate 'good faith'. Much as I have it to offer!" Hand to heart, she quavers slightly, held to deep emotions, and then takes a breath and holds it, only to release it. She'd have to wait for Karson or Moissan or something 'fun'. She could wait. There was the dragon eyeteeth to try. She could get a week out of those, for certain. The oil-setting would take more time to cure! She had time. Time until... A yawning cliff. Boredom. Terrible, final, destructive boredom. Surely, swift Sotheby would swerve aside, but... For now, it seemed awfully inevitable to the young lady. Druvis, on the other hand, poured herself into a seat and arranges fold-and-cross of arms on wall-sill chair she had selected near the back of the presentation area, such as it was. Looking at the projection dominating wall, her eyes fail to rise to the full height of Constantine's image. Instead, looking at collarline, Druvis' emerald eyes fail to contain the full majesty of the Foundation's Vice-president nor care to. She addresses the projectorpiece as one single person, quarter-lidded and focusing-through tired or some other distraction. "For its unfortunate timing, and length, I have at least gained an understanding with the forest here. It is older, and younger somehow, yet there's something refreshing to both. It and I have spoken at length, given long hours, but still just a drop in an ocean of rings." Indulging, a little, in being cryptic, she smiles faintly with a 'hmmh' of amusement after. "I have enjoyed cultivating in this claimed soil," Claimed. "And have not wasted my time." Druvis draws up fingers under chin, then frees them individually to drum on cheek, lazily blinking. "Despite the situation, I have gained a garden-plot, a living patch, and so I have something to live for. It is different, I will admit." She says, admitting to having a reason to not budge from her spot. Unfortunately, there's a small yet smart little lady in attendance. 'And, the title is 'Madam Vice President', Mr. Asakura, not 'Ma'am'. I forgive you the blunder, but I expect better from you.' Recieving a newtype flash of inspiration across her eyes (entirely imagined, but felt as eureka between brow), Sotheby pops her eyes and gasps, placing hand over mouth, then dropping fist into palm with an 'I've got it!' wow sparkle to her eyes, as she remembers that yes, yes indeed she had said 'ma'am'! And then her face sours, deeply hurt. Sour as a lemon, Sotheby looks up at the projection and places her hands balled-up in her lap. "Madam Vice President, how can you speak of 'good faith' while you've got a weapon pointed at this place?" She's young enough to say 'how can you' and mean it. "I can have my fun, myself, but is your position entirely unchanged?" Yes, because Sotheby is safely insulated from the Voting People of the Foundation.
Regulus	Regulus had taken Sotheby's hand and so her hand goes on a journey along with Sotheby's emoting. Her hand is taken to Sotheby's heart, then taken up to Sotheby's mount, then comes down to her palm and waggled around. Regulus doesn't let go of Sotheby's hand throughout all this no matter how silly it looks, her expression unchanging as her arm is wiggling around to coincide with the adventure that Sotheby is bringing it on. Her expression remains about as stoic as she can manage which Regulus has to use a secret technique of biting the inside of her mouth to hold her expression. Druvis's words overcome this and she cracks a little fond and happy smile of Druvis finding some joy in the situation.
Foundation Scions	'You're also staying their hands because you know that'd be a bad move, Madam Vice President.'     "Of course it is, until it isn't. I'd prefer to never see that day, but the fact remains that it is my efforts that determine your futures. The careful balance is ever shifting, and I'll do what I must to ensure our Foundation doesn't fall. Think carefully, as to what you can really afford." 'This building has an unreasonable amount of empty space, for being the one place people could survive in.'     "Not currently, not in Rescorla-Wagner, thanks to you. In my younger days, I used to have an office there. It pains me that it's a write-off, but new buildings can be built." She pauses there, and takes a sip of water, from her plain geometric glass. It's a soundless action, microphone calibration set for the transmission catching words above noise. She continues once it's put down.     "It's not a matter of physical space, in the first place, and I only hope you've realized such before speaking. I'd expect you of all people present would understand the tragedies of logistics. To feed and find uses for the huddled masses that could fill these halls is a hopeful dream, a painful one to let go of, and yet, to sacrifice the necessary stability of our Foundation for it, as out of reach as that particular dream is, would be no different than suicide."     "But, to answer your question- yes, Doctor, our Foundation safeguards the interests of arcanists, here and now, and for years longer than you or I have borne witness to its workings. Even those that the Timekeeper brought in, we guard, even as they rebel and struggle and call it 'protest'. It's difficult and costly every day, and yet the smoothly working parts, the intertwined roles on this grand battlefield, must move with or without your interference or your aid." 'If the Foundation's that stable and that strong, then... Yes, why are we here at all?'     "If you've a desire to help, it would be in sharing the burdens, distributing the weight wider, and reducing the friction of our Foundation's motions. There are more roles to fill and parts to orchestrate, but," A trail off, as Constantine leans in. Directed most strongly at Odette herself, critical, "Why are you there, if you do? So lost and confused."
Foundation Scions	'And then there's Vertin, disallowed from taking action when she has the second place people could survive in.'     "The Timekeeper is undergoing necessary treatment. I hope to see her hale and useful, soon, as any of you do." A gleam in her eye at that. "As with anyone's return, I do hope she'll not have to lay eyes on this little mess. How unwelcoming that would be, indeed." 'I have enjoyed cultivating in this claimed soil, and have not wasted my time.'     For a moment, there's almost equal parts annoyance and amusement in Constantine's tight-lipped expression, and before it steadies out to a poker face, annoyance gives way, paired with "So I've been told." A pause, and, inadvisably jabbing, betraying more and more of that annoyance, "How steady do you believe your newfound walls to truly be, Ms. Weyerhaeuser? A petty castle of your own, you've built. In the chaos our Foundation's walls have spared you from, do you think it could stand on its own? The bricks you've stacked are not even your own." 'Claimed' can't go uncontested. 'Madam Vice President, how can you speak of 'good faith' while you've got a weapon pointed at this place?'     Constantine, on camera, raises her hands, palms-forwards. "Please, rest assured. I'm quite empty-handed." That isn't a particularly funny joke, but it isn't for the audience there in Rescorla-Wagner, it's for representatives and bureaucrats who'll no-doubt see the off-camera stenographer's recording, and judge amusement or harmlessness from the Foundation's Vice President; or even the gentleness to attempt to amuse the most innocent-seeming of the Chicago arcanists.     "My position, as it so happens, is to remain unchanged."
Riku Asakura	Riku listens to the Vice President, letting her say her peace without interrupting her.  He's actually very interested in the answer to his question and hopes for an answer.  There wasn't going to be an answer to their terms or anything, but at least they can get more information on how the upper parts of the Foundation think.   Riku's eyes catch Regulus, knowing at least he seemed to be on the right path with this question.  However, it turns into a veiled threat, which causes Riku to sigh.  It literally is just like those times he's heard different villains try to intimidate others into doing what they want.   "Sorry, my mistake, Madam Vice President." Properly addressing people is important in his culture.   "I don't think it's a good idea to speculate on which side would win if you decided to become more hostile towards us.  It's something neither side wants, so let's back away from actually trying to imply that you're doing us a favor by keeping warhawks placated.  You don't want a fight, and we don't want a fight.  Let's at least agree to that."  Sotheby's point also causes him to nod at her, "She brings up a good point too." "Also, I do not believe that's what you want.  You wanted to seal people away until they gave you what you wanted, without regard for what they wanted or needed.  I've already heard from members of your organization about the treatment they received growing up.  I heard from everyone in the protest about the conditions they were in while being pressed into serving the Foundation." "You might think it's unfair that you have to change your ways now than you had before, but things are really different with the Storm, and having people from different eras needed to help try and protect humanity and arcanists from whatever the Manus plan.  I'm sorry this has disrupted how things were normally done, but right now a change is needed.  It's not anyone's fault, and there is no shame in being willing to change how you do things.  That is why we're protesting, because it's obvious to us and probably many of you that things aren't working anymore." "So it's important for the protest to continue until the laws of the Foundation are changed.  No amount of intimidation will stop it.  So it's up to you how you want to proceed.  I truly hope it's cooperative, and not to coerce people into working with you.  I'm putting my reputation as a Paladin on the line for this, but I think you have much more to lose." 'I hope to see her hale and useful, soon, as any of you do.' "I hope to see her hale and /healthy/ as anyone would.  People aren't just useful; they are people with their own hopes and dreams.  What you are attempting to do to her isn't right.  There isn't anything wrong with her, and this is no better than brainwashing her." Riku pauses, letting what he has to say stand on its own... and also because his heart is pounding.
Tamiel Luxis	"Game pieces have their parts to play, and hardly stray on their own from the plan. I'd prefer to hear that from you after you've found your place, and not before."     She was just so...Condescending. Tamiel found anger at that, firmer ground than the spreading fog of her anxiety. She clasps her hands together, to try to hide any unsteadiness in her fingers. Chess pieces were expendable--mindless and obedient--and full of deliberate sacrifices in the name of final victory. You don't mourn a pawn who you put in the chopping block to reach checkmate. You barely even mourn a queen, if she's spent to claim advantage!     But that's, she realizes, a useless angle. Tamiel could talk about how 'everyone matters' until she was blue in the face--it wouldn't matter. This woman--this Foundation--had already decided what lives were worth less, and what were worth more. "You've already made up your mind on what pieces they're supposed to be." She tried, instead, wings bristling, "You didn't try to understand them where they stood, what they were willing and able to do. You didn't bother to learn the rules of how they move."     "Instead. You gave them all a paper, and tried to confine them until they signed it." She leans back. Don't bite your lip. Don't flinch. Eyes forward. "Pieces might be obedient--but they only ever move according to their own rules. It doesn't matter how disappointed their player is in them, how long they keep them them--or how much they'd prefer a different piece."     "The arcanists here, they just want to move according to their rules. As, I'm sure, does the Timekeeper." Assuming whatever Mesmer was doing didn't pluck the inclination out from Vertin's head. Tamiel chased the thought off--one problem at a time. "I just...hope that when you count those votes, that's taken into consideration.."
Regulus	''--and I'll do what I must to ensure our Foundation doesn't fall. Think carefully, as to what you can afford.'' Regulus has considered giving in plenty of times. Sure, she could probably sign some papers even now and be 'safe', for a given value of safe, and have a 'home', for a given value of home. But she thinks of Sonetto reaching out to her when she was hurting--it didn't matter if it was stupid hurting or not. She can't let Vertin down, but she'd feel right now she'd be letting Sonetto down of all people and that feels even worse. "I can't afford to give up. There are people out there counting on me to be the sore thumb right now. And I know Vertin doesn't want to see the Foundation fall either." Regulus says. "That's not our goal here. And--to speak to your matter of logistics... we're not asking the Foundation to house everybody in every timeline either. We don't need much. Vertin's already been looking out for us, not like I've been eating food from your cafeteria--It'd be up to Vertin to look after our logistics. That way the cost to the Foundation is minimal." ''Distributing the weight wider, and reducing the friction of our Foundation's motions.'' "That's distributing the weight. If you wind a pocketwatch too tight it's bound to burst." ''My position, as it so happens, is to remain unchanged.'' Regulus dips her head slightly. "Why? Is everything so perfect it can't be better? Were things going well before our rebellion?"
Odette Raskins	Unconsciously taking Constantine's pause to drink as a cue to take a sip from her own can, Odette keeps her attention focused on what's being said and asked throughout the meeting. Although she's still not a fan of the Vice President's approach, she can easily guess that she's probably forgotten more negotiations than Odette's ever been involved in. Trying to match Constantine in wits to convince her that forming the Team isn't the way to go then, but emotional appeals aren't something she's confident would work, either. THere has to be something, though, something someone smarter than herself would come up with, but what? "If you've a desire to help . . . reducing the friction of our Foundation's motions." Odette hates that this all sounds right. There's a visible discomfort on her face as she realizes she can't really say anything against that, either, despite how much she would much rather reality not be that way. The only thing she can latch onto, then, is the distribution part, but even that isn't a fully formed idea in her head  by the time she finally replies after a long delay to try and figure out what to say. "That's... Why having a team under Miss Vertin' direciton would be the best way to do that. If everything has to be done following the Foundation's procedures to the letter and on the Foundation's schedules, there's..." She lets out a discomforted noise, remembering that her wallet is a lot lighter now than it was about a month ago. "... Y-yes, it'll save on resources, and I know the Foundation doesn't have unlimited space or money, b-but then that's trading people's that stability. That's not the kind of way I can help people. Or even the way I've been trained to help people." "Why are you there, if you do? So lost and confused." "Me? I..." Again, Constantine hits on a weak point. "... I'm here because I was asked to be. To help my friends after seeing all the people that were stuck in the Storm when they didn't have anywhere else to go." She admits, knowingly revealing what her personal stake in all this is. She can't really dispute being lost or confused about all this, either, and it's pretty obvious on her face that she's trying not to linger on her own thoughts more than she needs to. Instead, she tries to steer her thoughts elsewhere without much subtlety. "A.. Another question, Madam Vice President. If the Foundation can't protect them, and Vertin's team can't exist to direct them away from the Manus, then... What IS there to stop them from going along with the only choice they have left?"
James Bond	EARLIER      'Rogers,' the Foundation sympathizer who helped initiate the lockdown during the rebellion, has mostly done exactly what anyone would expect of a guard--man his post. He's a crack shot with his 'wand,' which seems to fairly straightforwardly shoot bolts of incapacitating electricty. That makes it ideal for 'his post' to be high up with a good vantage point on the no-man's land, and it means that when he's working, he's often isolated from the rest of the rebellion. As would also likely be expected, he comes down only to eat or to grouse, and is only as much of a conversationalist as a painfully normal guy can be. Since 'eating' involves stepping through the Suitcase, it affords Bond an opportunity to be back-and-forth as he needs, to be Bond in one place and Rogers in another, and to have plausible deniability for both, thanks to the gate in the Suitcase.      The messenger's flag of truce allows them passage through the area that many a bolt of energy has rained down upon. NOW Have you all had your fun?      "Madam Vice President," says Rogers, coming down the stairs, "How youse doin'?" Almost insultingly congenial, but strategically so. "I know this is gonna cost me more than a Christmas bonus, but when I saw that big thing youse guys had lugged in here, I just had to see who was gonna be on the other end." My position, as it so happens, is to remain unchanged.      This is a visit less for the benefit of anyone here, less to negotiate, and more to reassure the sensibilities of the Foundation, then? Well, he has something for that. "There's people in the Foundation--humans, even--that are sympathetic to these guys. Some of us are *really* sympathetic, if you catch my drift." Behind his mask, there's the sense that Rogers' brow lifts jovially. Certainly, the corners of his mouth pull downwards. "Takes a lotta hands to pass out Calibrators and stage a breakout. Yanno? I'm just the guy that stuck around."      "More than just the bigwigs are watching to see what you're gonna do here, and if you push that button, not everybody's gonna believe it was 'the forward march of the Foundation' even if they all smile and nod when you say it is."
Holly Asturias	"I'd expect you of all people present would understand the tragedies of logistics."     "I do," Holly nods with no fanfare, because blood supplies are a constant problem. "But I'm also not so lucky as to live alongside those capable of miracles. I find it hard to believe food could be such a massive concern when those with Druvis' gift exist. But... I also understand it isn't as simple as having someone who can grow food. It's complicated, and yet..."     She frowns, and taps one finger against her elbow as she chews on something. The amount of times she's opened her doors to people even knowing she couldn't feed them, because there was always a way to squeeze the rations just a bit tighter, and a world where you don't try is not one worth looking forward to.     "It still feels like there's something fundamental you're not providing that makes people turn to the Manus. Why wouldn't a young arcanist, with information on the Manus' inner workings, desperate to extract herself from it, not come to you?"     Holly's mind switches track.     "I've been wondering ever since. Why didn't she want to work with or trust the Foundation? Why was she willing to chance *death* over that? It's either that, or she did try, and you didn't answer. But we can't well ask her, now can we?"     Another track shift.     "... her sister. What's to become of her? Will you keep her here and feed her indefinitely? It isn't as though you can release her now. The next Storm would wash her away then. How do you treat such an obligation?" "That's distributing the weight. If you wind a pocketwatch too tight it's bound to burst."     "It's as Regulus says, though," she refocuses on the proper matter at hand. "You want and need more resources. The Timekeeper is in an unique position of being able to provide food and board for resources you can use, without taxing this space. Isn't that just a simple win-win situation?"
James Bond	"But somethin' tells me you know that already. You're too smart to go to all this trouble just to tell us how stupid we are. I think you wanted to make an assessment and decide whether you were gonna force the vote yourself."
Ein	Druvis has had her time to spend, closed-eyed and quiet, to think and to compose, and even to re-learn what it was to hear the sounds of a living place. She had watched, from windows, from within, a silent place remain silent, had overseen and been the reason for that silence, and now sat across from the projection of Constantine and played gently with having a voice of her own. "You seem to be of two minds about the matter," Druvis begins, leaning chin on cupped sprawl of hand, fingers curled to cheek, emerald eyes drooped in. "Whose efforts it is. Yours, to determine our futures, or ours, to. . ." Her other hand rises, faint-flourishes to indicate the surrounds, and drops back to lap. "But I do not think that Vertin, or we, suffer from what is simply 'necessary treatment'." All their treatment, their hardship, was equally unnecessary. And there was no guarantee of the course of that treatment - merely that it was determined and delivered. 'How steady do you believe your newfound walls to truly be, Ms. Weyerhaeuser?' "I'm used to the curtain of green over stone entrances," She shrugs, having lived in the woods for some time in her own way. "There's sturdy enough place to plant roots in." As she had certainly shown and proven, not here but across all of the Foundation's stone most literal. 'A petty castle of your own, you've built.' "Pettier than the castle it is found in, certainly, but greener." She smiles faintly. 'Yes, thank you', in different words, for she knew Constantine was admitting and all she had to do was accept. 'In the chaos our Foundation's walls have spared you from, do you think it could stand on its own?' "The arcane skill of Vertin, and her object, saved my life." Druvis tilts her head. "I saw no wall of yours within there. I understand it was retrieved, after, and then we were here." A quirk of the brow. "I have seen the Suitcase stand on its own. We rode it, as an ark." Druvis looks around. "Do you stand on your own? I do not." Of course the druid would say that. "Even a 'stone' stands on the world beneath." 'The bricks you've stacked are not even your own.' "Weren't, perhaps." Druvis manages not to smile, but her tone is that of a cat with feather in-mouth and the faint smell of blood about. "But I've come to like our petty castle." As admitted, as said not two sentences before. 'Claimed' was a premise *accepted and pivoted upon*. To Druvis, Constantine had already given up the point. And she had listened to many people oscillate and spin words about truth. 'Please, rest assured. I'm quite empty-handed.' Sotheby, who must consult the attending stuffie perched near her, frowns as if something bitter and bad-tasting was present, and then waits while other people talk, before raising a finger - a child with a question, and then when her turn and time comes, pivots the digit down to point.
Ein	"Madam Vice President, if you're the one who's made all the decisions, and there is a big red cannon pointed at the building, and all kinds of bright lights, and shouting people and loud noises constantly so we cannot sleep. . . Are you being serious about what's in your hands?" 'Are you being serious', from a thirteen year old in a giant hat, talking to her doll first. "Because," Ever-clever toned. "*I* don't have anything in my hands *right now*, but I can set things on burners and to bubble and they'll become gold without me touching them too much more! And, so. . ." 'but the fact remains that it is my efforts that determine your futures.' "At least, it sounds to me like you determined a cannon and an mean evil army and everything else?" It's a question. Which is it? If it's a fact, then... Is she being serious? The child wishes to know.
Foundation Scions	'I can't afford to give up.'     "And yet you have everything to gain by doing just that. All of you do." Blatantly frustrated, that's another inadvisable statement. With a small unclear hand gesture, just at the edge of the camera, paired with a short, steeling breath, she moves past it. None would know that the stenographer struck the line.     "Who is it that you imagine Vertin relies upon, Regulus? Vertin is a piece of the St. Pavlov Foundation, one of its helping hands and friendly faces, and still just one. Who is it she comes to for assistance, resources, and information? Her logistics and our logistics are interlinked, if not identical. Her decisions on allocations have ripples, her actions represent ours. Vertin is of our Foundation, inseparable." 'I find it hard to believe food could be such a massive concern when those with Druvis' gift exist.'     Constantine stares forwards and to the left, at a projection on her end, barely hinted at in the glimmers of light on metal adornments, and the glass water pitcher to her side. "Ms. Weyerhaeser's gift is her own. At present, she is occupied." Like it's a funny joke, "By occupying. Would you care to wonder at the math of how many mouths she could feed, where she otherwise utilized? Have you spoken with her on this?Do you imagine that the St. Pavlov Foundation is so much a stranger to miracles as to leave them unspent? Doctor Asturias- these walls are built on miracle. By such, by sacrifice, and by manpower and principle, those outside your little encampment are saved, to sacrifice, work, and work miracle to save others. The math is delicate, the tolerances minimal."     "What you cannot seem to believe is that our Foundation is that all of this has been considered, tried, and tested against the crucible of rationality and past failure. Future failure is too much to risk." 'Will you keep her here and feed her indefinitely?'     "I'm certain a role will be found for her, if it hasn't already. I have larger matters to contend with, but rest assured, if she's washed upon these shores, here she will stay."
Foundation Scions	'If the Foundation can't protect them, and Vertin's team can't exist to direct them away from the Manus, then...'     "What a pitiful dichotomy you presume. Do you think so little of the common arcanist to assume her to be an impulsive animal who would run to any corner sheltered from the rain? What's more, surely you've seen that she is more than likely to be barred entry to the Manus' shelter, in whatever form it takes, or used unscrupulously and discarded to the Storm, or as fodder. The mixed-blooded, the inconvenient, the unremarkable, the lines of the Manus' discrimination is firm and known."     Another drink, before continuing, "The Foundation has principles, as does the common arcanist. For those that can be saved, and those that wash upon our shores, a place will be found, a use made, and the walls will stand higher. No," A pause, and a glare of distaste (at a screen, not at Odette, though she is its intended target,) "The common arcanist will live her whole life having never heard of the Storm, and will fade in, and out, at its whims. As tragic as that is, the world itself is of billions. Each passing Era is grieved, but the future must be looked to, not the past, nor even the ephemeral present. Of those who can be saved, a heartbreaking minumum, any lost to the Manus is a tragedy within tragedies."     "Vertin may be the one and only Timekeeper, but she is one and only." Ephasized again. "There is a limit to her capacities as such, and yet the disruption she can sow as one and only, well. It stands before me, in those familiar halls. I hope you understand clearer, Ms. Raskins, others, that your perspective is narrow, the demographic you speak of is miniscule, and the benefit, why, is above all, to appease the traumas Vertin herself has accrued."     Picking up the glass of water again, Constantine's hand shakes, ever so slightly. "I do so despise having to spell it out for you."     'Some of us are *really* sympathetic, if you catch my drift.'     The glass is held in both hands, rather than afford letting her hands be seen shaking in irritation. Tense and stiff, Constantine still smiles as she says, ""I'm quite aware. They're welcome to their opinions, of course, such is a freedom hard-fought for by the St. Pavlov Foundation. I'm sure you're aware of the prices paid. The implicit threat isn't news to me, and as I'm sure you also know, it's my hope to seek a civil resolution to this, for everyone's sake." Only barely more thinly veiled, "The risks are, as always, being carefully assessed. I cautioun you to not overplay your hand. You only have the one." 'I think you wanted to make an assessment and decide whether you were gonna force the vote yourself.'     Constantine's poker face doesn't shift, there's no indication this isn't just noise to her. For anyone but Bond it's only one of the many lines she's no option or care to respond to and humor; but for him, it's obviously telling.
Foundation Scions	'I saw no wall of yours within there.'     Her tone and expression don't match the annoyance implicit in her words, when Constantine says, as gentle and steady as ever, "Perhaps you've taken too well to placing a mask across your eyes, Ms. Weyerhaeuser. I imagine it makes it difficult to see clearly." 'Madam Vice President, if you're the one who's made all the decisions,'     "The Joint Committee, and Foundation policy has determined the decisions so far, as it will continue to do so, Ms. Sotheby." A pause, and, almost humored, "Cards, pieces, and fates, rest in my hands, if you'll pardon the metaphorical rhetoric. But as for 'weapons', I'd prefer you recall that my hands are what stays them. I want no-one further to be harmed, here, or as costs paid to humor you. Please have some sympathy. You're keen enough to imagine where it ought to be placed."
Holly Asturias	"Ms. Weyerhaeser's gift is her own. At present, she is occupied."     "Of course she's occupied, because you've seen fit to deny the one she put herself forward *for*. All the while her *doctor* is breaching ten different clauses of every patient-doctor confidentiality agreement I've ever had to read." Holly isn't capable of hostility, or, at least, not in this context; it doesn't sound condescending, but she's out of her depths, and she's feeling for vibes. The Foundation is ten times her little house in the middle of a haunted forest, but that nagging feeling that won't go away.... "Doctor Asturias- these walls are built on miracle."     That miracles should be grander than this. "Do you think so little of the common arcanist to assume her to be an impulsive animal who would run to any corner sheltered from the rain?"     That Schneider should have had no reason to not seek those miracles. "Of those who can be saved, a heartbreaking minumum, any lost to the Manus is a tragedy within tragedies."     But she *did*. She turned away from the miracles and entrusted herself to the Concord and Vertin. Only to be washed away like the rest of that era. "Vertin may be the one and only Timekeeper, but she is one and only."     Why? How rotten are the miracles? What did Schneider see or find out about the Foundation wasn't on the table? It would have been so easy. "Perhaps you've taken too well to placing a mask across your eyes, Ms. Weyerhaeuser. I imagine it makes it difficult to see clearly."     "Have you considered that somehow, the blind see more of what goes on than you do? I'm sorry - really, I am, but I can't... piece something together, and by every metric it means your Foundation failed. If arcanists don't believe you can protect them, something is wrong. If arcanists would rather trust Vertin than the walls built by miracles, what does that say about your walls?"     The Revenant's red eyes finally look at Constantine directly, for the first time. "Why do people seem to have more faith in a tiny suitcase than all of you put together? Are your walls cracked, miraculous as they may be, or... are the men on the ramparts the issue, making the arcanists feel watched and unwelcome?"     None of this is a solution. Holly crosses her arms, unhappy about that fact. Here's a million problems! No solutions to go with them. "... she should have trusted you. Until you can tell me why she couldn't, how can you claim to protect anyone? You don't even know how they feel."
Regulus	Regulus looks again to Odette. Her fists clench slightly when Odette's initial answer to why she's here is just because she was asked to be. But when Odette clarifies further, she eases up and relaxes. It's friendship. That's good. She's pretty impressed by the points brought forward by Bond and has to sort of stop herself from going 'Thanks Bond!' or 'wow that's a good point, Druvis!'. Honestly, she's feeling like her inner rebel is being challenged by others being much more properly rebellious. But well, she's the expected rabblerouser, so right now she supposes that means she has to be the one to keep her cool and not be the one getting her digs in. Honestly, she's worried sick about Vertin. ''I don't have anything in my hands *right now*'' Regulus lets go of Sotheby's hand so nobody can call her out on not having empty hands. Smooth. ''And yet you have everything to gain by doing just that.'' "...Vertin's just one person, but the people supporting Vertin are much more than one person." She refuses to use the term 'piece'. "In the Suitcase, we handle our own cleaning, our own cooking and handle our own affairs. And I'm not getting a paycheck. ...I don't know everything Vertin asks for, but it's not like the Foundation doesn't get anything. We've been helping the Foundation already, even if we skirted across some rules." ''It's my hope to seek a civil resolution to this.'' "Then why not negotiate?" Regulus breathes in sharply. "We know your stance, you know ours, the vote is gonna happen eventually. Warnings aren't gonna get you there." She rubs at her neck at talk of the implicit threat. Truth be told, it's pretty normal to be a little anxious at what three multidimensional super forces might desire out of a world. "I don't want to make choices out of fear here." Bond's words of Constantine here wanting an assessment out of her is making her anxious. She's not exactly comfortable being a face of the Suitcase here. Even trying her best here doesn't seem to be building any bridges here with someone they could really use on their side--or at least, willing to make use of their side. "I don't think it's to think 'little' of the 'common arcanist' to want to live." Regulus says. "To want shelter. The Suitcase is just another option. That's all. And hey, maybe they'll see sides of the Foundation they didn't expect to if given that option. I did. A guy I knew said that even saints won't be so saintly while drowning. It's not so bad, is it, to have ''more'' arks, is it?"
Odette Raskins	"Do you think so little of the common arcanist to assume her to be an impulsive animal who would run to any corner sheltered from the rain?" Odette sweats a little hearing that, perhaps a little glad that Constantine responded as though she was thinking about arcanists in that position and not Odette herself. That doesn't really change the truth of the statements in her head either way, though, since the EMT has in fact seen the Manus' clear disregard for life in the past two Storms already. "That means... The Foundation's their best shot at surviving, then." She murmurs quietly as she rolls that thought around in her head, the troubled frown making it clear she's still trying to figure something out. What that is, precisely, continues to elude her, and hearing that- "The common arcanist will live her whole life having never heard of the Storm" -only makes Constantine's position more difficult for Odette to approach. She can't expect anyone to take in billions, if not trillions of people, and it's not like she saaw the Manus taking in that many even among those that did know.   She tenses up briefly at that glare even if it's not specifically at her but totally coming across that way from the projector. There's still something that isn't sitting right with her in what Constantine is saying, and it's only then starting to click together why. "she is one and only." "the benefit, why, is above all, to appease the traumas Vertin herself has accrued." "She is... And what's wrong with that? If she's the only person that go into the Storm safely, then... Then it's even more important that those traumas get resolved so they don't blow up worse later. I don't mean that you've got to let her be completely loose, but..." Another pause, to gather her already frazzled thoughts. "A compromise, to let her work with a good bit of wiggle room, m-maybe even a monitor to make sure she doesn't get too wild. Then you'd have her, everyone that trusts her, and the Foundation moving in one direction rather than... Er. J-just her and the Foundation." Odette fidgets in her seat again, still looking uncomfortable even/especially after all that. "If it's just her without a team... What's the future you see for the Foundation? For... If the Foundation's stability stays like it is now. Does the Storm disappear, and does the Manus go away with however things have been going before all this?"
Ein	'Ms. Weyerhaeser's gift is her own. At present, she is occupied.' Druvis' eyes lower. She doesn't want to speak to that. If there was anything of hers to negotiate, when she had nothing, it was her ability. Her ear, her voice. Were she to simply serve, she would have been seeing to miracles almost immediately. Negotiation was not what she wanted to do, but what she was called to do. 'Negotiation'. It almost makes her 'tch' out-loud, just thinking that, and her poker face is not as good as Constantine's. She required momentum to remain at idly swatting posture. 'Have you spoken with her on this?' Eyes shaded, Druvis breathes out slowly. They hadn't. It hadn't come up. She had never considered that she could. 'those with Druvis' gift exist.' "I do not understand myself to have peers, Doctor." Druvis does admit, which might read as ego in text, but in person is a dark reflection on the truth. 'Of course she's occupied, because you've seen fit to deny the one she put herself forward *for*.' And that is true as well, that the 'necessary medical treatment' required immediate sequesterment. "I am used waiting. There are no secrets there. If you'd like me to be open to commitment, to your Foundation of miracles, I will negotiate with Vertin directly. You-" Constantine. "Have repeatedly said she is your agent. In that, at least, I will believe." 'Perhaps you've taken too well to placing a mask across your eyes, Ms. Weyerhaeuser. I imagine it makes it difficult to see clearly.' "You know," Bitter as coffee, smoothed only slightly by the lift of chin and level of eyes up at the projection. "It seems a mask is favored by the Foundation's members too. Do you find it assists in hearing as well?" She sighs. "Despite the drawbacks, perhaps, to mutual sight." Or seeing eye to eye. 'The Joint Committee, and Foundation policy has determined the decisions so far,' Sotheby considers this for a moment, the heady words always requiring arranging to be proper. A moment's pause and thoughtful consideration created the most ladylike of sentences, while hasty blurtings could make reputation hurtings! Regulus, who had placed her hands in Sotheby's care, was released in time with the battle of the empty hands, and the rocker gets a big grin and glitter-eyed wink. Of course she got it! It was that exacting and precise and most ladylike of logics that Sotheby commanded! If it was invincibility by empty-handed deflection, two could play that card and ruse! "Cards, pieces, and fates... but your hands are empty? So then, you don't control anything? Madam Vice President, I'm trying to understand but I think you're making it needlessly unclear. If you've called us to say that you've tried your hardest for us, but you can't control anything. . . then. . ." Have some sympathy! Sotheby bounce nods and clasps hands together to smile. "I hope you keep working hard, even if it doesn't seem like you move much! If your position is to be unmoving then. . ." Thoughtful, almost conciliatory but for the actual words. "I suppose I'd like to directly speak to the Joint Committee? Or the purser, if you can't negotiate more." Sotheby had great sympathy for the manager or lord in the middle, but if she had no decisionmaking power and no terms or leverage, then . . . Sotheby would simply go up the chain? Her father had taught her how to ask properly for things - continue up until finding the top and then negotiating directly.
James Bond	"I'm sure *you're* aware the Foundation is the only game in town once the Storm rolls in. Nobody joins the Manus because they wanna live, but we're only so 'welcome to our opinions' here."      "Any time somebody says that somebody else is 'welcome to their opinions,' there's always a 'but.' And that's 'cause it's always a crock. 'You're welcome to your opinions, but they don't mean a goddamn thing, and we're gonna do what we wanted to do from the get-go.'"      "And look where that gets you," he says, gesturing around. "'Messes.' If it wasn't us, it would have been some other assholes. Not because you're dealing with an unruly mob that just 'wants to have their fun,' but because the Foundation can't help but make them. If you wanna change that, put somebody else on the phone. If you don't, or you wanna tell yourself that this is all it's ever gonna be, and that the Foundation doesn't have to change because of 'future failures,' then go ahead and hang up, do what you have to do."      "I know I am." 'Rogers' heads back up the stairs to return to his post.
Foundation Scions	'Of course she's occupied,'     "I'll stop you there, Doctor. Thank you for your input, however, the chances offered for Ms. Weyerhaeuser to cooperate have been numerous, and are not exhausted. Our Foundation would appreciate her acquiescence in aiding its efforts." 'If you'd like me to be open to commitment, to your Foundation of miracles, I will negotiate with Vertin directly'     Constantine smiles. If she could throw a glance to Holly, a 'see, like I told you,', she still wouldn't- but the desire is palpable. "She remains in treatment, Ms. Weyerhaeuser, as I've informed you before. I'm afraid I can no longer see your refusal to heed anyone but her as anything other than intentional obstinacy, and your knowing refusal to assist those your gifts otherwise could is greatly disappointing." She doesn't look more upset than anything else, but, stated once-more for the record, what her stance is, in context of Druvis', will shift political friction ever so slightly, as all of this and each passing day does. 'Why do people seem to have more faith in a tiny suitcase than all of you put together?'     "Because by 'people', you refer to a miniscule portion of the world, Doctor Asturias. Those you've met and those you associate with are divorced from 'people' at large. They 'seem' to, because you don't speak to, or of, the countless who have never and will never meet her, to whom the Foundation stands still as its bright bastion. The Foundation offers support the governments of the world refuse to, to the arcanists of it, the Foundation offers peace, and peace-of-mind. Guidance and accountability, hand-in-hand with purpose. I'm not the monster underneath your bed, Doctor, so kindly stop batting away at shadows." Constantine repeats the little gesture from before, now, paired with a little twitchy tick of the lip. 'She is... And what's wrong with that?'     "For one, she's presently in treatment for exactly that. The matter is handled." Her smile is truer, here. That's a point she's firm on, feels confident has weight, and cuts through some apparent parts of the argument to others. On paper, a denial from the Vice President of a key point, after a rebel conceded down the idea that this is all just to amuse and appease the Timekeeper. She's pleased. 'Cards, pieces, and fates... but your hands are empty?'     "Perhaps, 'at my fingertips' would be more precise, young Ms. Sotheby. You're quite astute, but I'd ask you to keep the understanding of metaphor and reality more distinct. Clarity will follow." Sotheby's followup is embarrassing, she takes a sip of water to move, distract listeners from the words, and steady herself and her expression. With a gathered-again smile, "There will be no need for you to speak to others, Ms. Sotheby. Terms will be decided for you, if there are to be any soon."
Foundation Scions	'I don't think it's to think 'little' of the 'common arcanist' to want to live.'     "The common arcanist will never know the nature of the Storm, and she will pass through its reversal on to whatsoever it entails. The Foundation's policy is to not inform the populace unnecessarily, while the Manus Vindictae no doubt do so only to destabilize and manipulate others into that exact dichotomy you're so convinced of. As you're examples of, it works at driving sympathy towards supremacist terrorists."     A pause interrupts her, before she continues with another line more towards the stenographer and political peers than towards who she's conversing with: "Unlike your sentiments show, I can't condone the notion that one choosing not only to kill, but to aid and abet genocidal actions, is exonerated solely by the motivation to survive. The lasting peace of mankind cannot be built on such concessions." 'but they don't mean a goddamn thing,'     "My apologies, Mr. Rogers. I'm well aware that the nature of democracy, on such a personal scale, feels as such. Your opinions contribute as much as any individuals, to the directions of the Foundation; within its guiding principles and doctrine. The vote matters, regardless." Slightly offput by the lesser level of respect he has towards this all, than the others, Constantine takes an obvious bracing breath in and out. Obvious, but hardly half a centimeter of movement. "This isn't the first 'mess', and it will hardly be the last. I assure you, it will be cleaned, and moved on from. The Foundation changes as it must, each passing day. Your drastic, reckless suggestions, quite plainly, are not in the slightest 'how it must'. Time will tell, as it always does, of course, and the vote will decide, as it always does."     "No, there is no higher authority to speak to, Ms. Sotheby, nor another so, 'inclined', as to who you'd prefer I bring from no-where to speak, Mr. Rogers. I trust you all to remember, as you've made and make your choices, that this is your best chance of an efficient return to normal. Acquiesce; and the remediations can begin. Perhaps it will even aid in the Timekeeper's recovery to know this matter has been resolved."     That's downright sloppy. She's frustrated, and she has been; she's annoyed, and she has been. Political pressure around her is the reason for this display, only then shifted downwards onto the encampment. Representatives she'll talk to, and ensure hear lines and clips of this, her real audience. If the rebels pack up and quit, it saves her the trouble of further machinations, but there is further for her to go.     With another tight-lipped smile, Constantine performs a very brief, shallow nod, and the feed cuts to the same film-leadup countdown, ticking down, down, down, to a mechanical *clunk* that shuts the projector off and renders it a fancy lump of inoperable metal.
Regulus	Regulus can't help but give Sotheby a fond smile even in the midst of all this. She's been such an unexpected source of courage today. @emit Regulus can't help but give Sotheby a fond smile even in the midst of all this. She's been such an unexpected source of courage today. "Yeah, but the Timekeeper's gonna be running into people as a Storm is nearing a lot. Even if they don't know about The Storm until seeing people act all crazy." Regulus points out. "Most arcanists only know the Manus as a group that says that they're fighting for them in a world that isn't. They won't know just how far they're willing to go until it's too late or just barely. I've noticed the people you're giving nods to and whose words you're twisting while ignoring the rest. But you aren't gonna divide us with this routine. Your Foundation kills plenty and we've seen that in action. Christ, you're dangling her in front of us like..." She exhales. "I think Vertin would want us to stay the course." Once Constantine is gone, Regulus gives Sotheby a big hug but is otherwise quiet, visibly exhausted, and drained. "Well you're quite brave, aren'tcha Sotheby? Told her what for, huh? Thanks, love." And then she turns and makes her way to the suitcase in a hurry before she lets just how beat down and exhausted she is become too visible to the others.
Holly Asturias	"I do not understand myself to have peers, Doctor."     "No?" Holly is next to lower her head, them, an earnest and forward, "Apologies. Then on that point I can cede ground, though by all accounts it sounds like that's elevated the urgency of getting you onboard quite a bit, hasn't it? What price will the Foundation be willing to pay to add a miracle to its walls?" "Our Foundation would appreciate her acquiescence in aiding its efforts."     "Well, it sounds to me like that's as easy as giving Vertin the autonomy she should have. Do you really stand to lose *that* much over this? I'm really not seeing how she conflicts with your goals." "Because by 'people', you refer to a miniscule portion of the world, Doctor Asturias."     "A minuscule portion that represents all that is left of past eras. You've said yourself you can't save everyone. Are the few you *can* save not worth all the more? Not worth hearing out? I don't think you're a monster at all. But you're currently holding hostage your most valuable asset, who also has countless assets at her command. For what? Relationships are a resource too, and you're eroding them all."     A bit annoyed, now, at how deftly Constantine ignored the entire matter of Schneider, only to double and triple down. But it doesn't really matter, because they won't be making further progress today.     The projector shuts, and the Revenant sighs, and sits on the ground like a pouting child. "I think Vertin would want us to stay the course."     "That goes without saying. Ugh, I am *famished* now." She looks (up) at the poor messenger they kept in tow, laughing to herself and smiling. "Well, if you're still in a hurry to leave, you're free to now. If not, I'm going to prepare some calming tea. I think everyone everyone could use some right now. Chamomile... maybe lemon balm?"