Bravo Team Planning

[Atlas Mason] It was a warm, cloudy day in the windy city, and with the sun hidden from view the river was dark and choppy. The piers in this area jut out into the water like jagged teeth long and grey, they were intended for smaller freight ships, fish haulers, and mid sized cargo ships. Where many of the piers were bustling and well maintained, this one had fallen into disrepair . Perhaps it was why Atlas had chosen this particular location to berth his ship, no one thought that there would be anything of worth.

The ship itself looked almost as derelict as the pier, its full 350 feet of length barely contained within the safety limits of the pier itself. The ship almost looked like an old WW2 destroyer without the armaments. But where it may have at one time been regal, and almost stately in its prime, the ship was now dark and ruined, The signs of repairs and reconstruction are evident upon the hull of the ship, great swaths of fresh steel plating had been welded and attached to the sides, covering holes that would make many mariner's shiver with fear. They could tell that the ship had seen worse days, but it would be a long time before it would see its prime once more.

Barely recognizable, with filth and rust coating the side of the ship is the name "Lafette". The ships gangplank sat extended, and untouched. Just beyond the chainlink gate that blocked entrance to the pier, The duo can make out a bevy of tools, piles of scrap metal, and an array of devices that may have at one time, been wonderous creations, but were now merely piles of scrap as well.

They really might wonder how this whole scene had gone unnoticed to the authorities. But they had come there for a purpose, come to see the Dr. and talk about what was to come soon, and what dangers they may face, and more importantly, how they would all manage to work together to do so.

[Emily Littleton] There is a storm coming, even though the day is clear. It is clear and warm and cloudless. It is humid (unbreaking [unbroken]), and sweat beads at the nape of her neck, slicks her palms. This waiting, it becomes unbearable, it builds and builds and builds. There is a storm coming, but it refuses to break, and the waiting is driving her crazy.

Emily and Kage live in the same part of town. They live close enough that it does not make sense to take two vehicles -- one green and compact, one black and monstrous -- across town to the dock where the Lafette is moored. Emily has been here before so she offers, Hey, let's rideshare. And so it is that the Orphan (rowan-haired [to stay]) and the Orphan (raven-haired [for now]) arrive side-by-side.

One rowan and one raven, but today their paths intertwine rather than kissing. It is not the woods, but the smell of sea-salt-air rises up off the water, mingled with rust, mingled with algae, mingled with the damp-rot of the waterfront. There is a chainlink fence, and Emily stops just long enough to see if it is padlocked shut -- it wasn't, before -- and if it's open, then she pushes on it enough to step through the portal and approach the ship.

She is familiar; this is not strange to the younger woman. She has her messenger bag, and her hands are wrapped around the strap, which falls shoulder to hip like always. Today plain tee shirt ([ilavendar[/i]), a pair of jeans, tennies tied tightly. Her hair is bound back loosely, one hand rises to hold down the curls that loose themselves in the light wind that comes off the water.

Stepping around scrap metal, tools, odd refuse, spare parts, they make their way to the gangplank, where Emily will call out Hello? if Atlas does not make himself known.

[K. Jakes] This is the first time K. R. Jakes is actually witness to the extent of the Lafette's damage, to its Age, to its Decrepitude. This is the first time, you see, that she has actually been to the Lafette. She takes it in, quiet, unspeaking, and the wind lilts through her hair; it's so red, it defies the existence of ghosts: a colour that spectres are attracted to, cannot touch, reminds them of warmth, of embers, of fire.

"And he's trying to fix it up by himself?" she says, breaking the eerie silence -- for the silence is becoming eerie, echoing. She sounds perplexed, or maybe daunted, or maybe impressed.

[Atlas Mason] There is no response from the gentleman inventor, as Kage so often liked to call him, it was obvious the man was here, or at least somewhere nearby as his motorcycle was stored near the fence itself, under an old canvas tarp. The duo approach the gangplank with its wires and trunking, it was obvious that the ship still relied heavily on the power Atlas syphoned off of the cities grid.

There is noise however, noise that draw's Emily and Kage's attention to the stern of the ship far down at the opposite end of the pier, it is the sound of construction, of some form of drill upon metal, it was loud and it was easily the reason for Atlas' failure to hear the duo's approach, he was consumed by his passion, the restoration of his ship, and it blinded and deafened him to the approach of friends...and enemies.

Other then the trunking and wires that covered the gangplank however there was nothing to stop the pair from ascending to the ships deck, and seek out the Etherite in his own environment.

[Emily Littleton] The gangplank looked unsteady. Emily knows because it had looked unsteady the time before, too. But it had held, held fast, held firmly, so she is unafraid as she mounts her ascent to the deck of the Lafette.

"Mostly, yes," she tells Kage, with a small nod. As if there is nothing in the world wrong with this thought, this endeavour. She checks that the other Orphan has her footing, and then makes her way onboard without fuss. There is a shift, moving from land-solid to sea-shifting, in the way that they stand. It is disorienting, for a moment. The noise, unabating, will grow louder as they approach, forcing them to talk louder, to nearly shout.

"I came to help once, but things have been busy since then. Riley might have, too."

To the stern they go, Emily keeping one hand out, just above the guard rail at all times. Ready to steady her if the ship should lurch, if some footsteps should prove unsteady.

"ATLAS?" she calls, over the whirr and the din. If he looks up, she waves. Then she smiles. It is a broad thing, despite the reasoning behind their visit.

[K. Jakes] [I have my footing! Dex+Ath!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[K. Jakes] Things have been busy, Emily says, and the Orphan (Disciple of the Mystery, now [no longer a mere Initiate]) smiles faintly at the understatement. The smile is not one of those which lights her eyes, her features; she hasn't been sleeping particularly long hours, because she has been reading, has been searching for answers, for something that will help, will make their plan steadier and stronger. She follows Emily up the plank, unswaying, curious. She has yet to call out. Yet to say a thing, a word.

[Atlas Mason] The stern of the ship still seems largely under construction given the material and the tools spread about the deck, but unlike what Emily had seen before of the ship, this part seem's to be mostly about leisure and relaxation, next to a large, and odd looking array of instruments and sensors, was an area that was recessed in against the rear of the ships outer wall, in it was a large square table, and around it was one continuous couch, shielded ever so skillfully by an overhang that stopped the rain, but allowed in the light. Nearby was a massive, refined version of a barrel bbq, what was usually a redneck acccessory had been gentrified by etheric tinkering the thing could probably cook a live cow in five seconds flat...if..well you needed to cook a live cow.

Amid the leisurely looking parts of the ship, there were business parts as well, what appeared to be a side mounted torpedo tube, originally used to take on submarines, was where the pair found Atlas, and from the looks of it he was either tired of it being there...or had other plans for the space, as the man was busy tearing the tube apart with a metal saw.

When he notes the women coming around the corner the noise stops as the man takes his finger from the power switch and he lets the thing drop to the deck as he turns towards then, earmuffs still upon his head. "Kage, Emily. It is a marvelously accurate and appropriate time frame for your personages to locate upon the Lafette's primary molecular structure!" He says so quite loudly...a byproduct of still wearing the headphones.

He is wearing a set of coverall's today to protect his clothing from flying pieces of metal and such and he pulls of blackened gloves and sets them down on the ruined torpedo launcher before removing his headphones.

"To what interlinking plan of action have your personages joined and located to converge and link with my personal reality sphere?" He asks curiously, looking from one to the other.

[Emily Littleton] She has great curiosity after the fate of the once-torpedo-tube, but that is a question (and possibly a task) for a later appointment. Emily waits until he has pulled the headphones from his ears, until the gloves come off and Atlas, tired but pleased to see them no doubt, welcomes them aboard.

"Good afternoon," Emily says, offering a proper greeting now that the din has died down. Her accent is more her own today, all muddled with wanderlust and no sense of home. It's not as pared down, as tightly controlled as the meeting at Edom's. Not as narrow and irritated as at the meeting. There is warmth there, even in dark times, for these two.

"We thought we might talk to you," she begins, only half-hesitant (and the other part bold, direct, to the point: Unrelenting [she wears it well]). "About this weekend, and the particulars of your device. Kage and I," she motions between them, an inclusive thing (We [not in the royal sense]), "Will be working with you."

As yes, then, straight to business. Emily's hands find her pockets, now. Slide in. Keep still, keep safe.

[Atlas Mason] Atlas listens to Emily's words and nods as he steps towards them a warm amiable look on his face for Kage, something slightly more for the young Emily. "With definable certainty we shall cross actualize data and intention of utilization of the device." He says as he gestures over to the couch that sits recessed into the ship's deck.

"Please Locate your chemical biological structures onto a sustaining tension reduction plane and recline or rigidify your personage in any particular manner that you find nominally acceptable."

He says as he moves towards it, stepping down the few feet into the relaxing area to find himself a seat. "What particulars did you wish to examine and ensure scientific clarity in regards to?"

[Emily Littleton] Emily follows, slipping the messenger bag's strap over her head as she walks. She sets it beside her on the couch, pulls it along with her as she scoots around behind the table enough to make room for Kage.

"Ah, well," she says, a little flummoxed for where to begin. "We didn't get to talk much after the meeting. I am primarily concerned with how to actualize its intended effect; what might be required to sustain it; any preparations we should be beforehand to maximize our potential for a successful envoy into and out of the near-shadow."

Emily mirrors; it's a natural thing; it's part of what she does. So it is unsurprising, or should be unsurprising, that her speech pattern is pulled toward Atlas's while they are here. That the words elongate, sprout extra syllables, sound a little bit more like her homework and conversations with labmates. She mirrors, because it helps her feel like she belongs. It helps her fit in until friendships begin to form. It is manipulative, but not malicious.

"I am also curious if there's anything we three should do before hand, so that we're prepared to work together. We didn't, work together that is, at the club in the church. It could have turned out far worse than it did." This is grave, because the club and the church had not gone well to begin with. Recognizing that it could have gone worse was little more than a hat tip to Fate, for not calling any of their fellows Home that night.

[K. Jakes] It wouldn't be fair to say that the red-haired Orphan is paying no mind to the conversation. This is a conversation that she feels is important. This is a conversation that she wants to (longs to) have. But the Lafette is a ship, and they are inside it, being gestured to a couch, and it is a relic of a bygone age, an age that isn't, and it draws her historian's gaze, makes her museful.

"I believe," she says, muted humor; something akin to it, which tarnishes up her eyes. She cants an eyebrow at Atlas, while taking a seat, looking over his head, ship again. Not quite as neat as his sidecar, not yet. Then her gaze returns, "that Emily's more than adequately summed up what we're wondering. How, Atlas. What will be required; if -- I should rather say, when -- we are threatened, will we be able to maneuver?"

And Emily mentions the club. Kage wasn't invited to the club. Wasn't given a choice. Noone she loved is dead. No ghost of one she loved is held in thrall (still [frozen]) to feed the Ever Thirsting Chalice. Maybe that was a mistake of the Demon's, not trying to win the red-haired woman over: maybe the mistake was trying to win over those she knows. Either way, she intends to stop it.

[Atlas Mason] Atlas listens to both the women now as they each took a seat in the booth, it was noteworthy that the view out the back of the ship was completely unobstructed, giving a great view...one could imagine how nice it would be at sea.

He takes in their questions, compiles them and correlates the appropriate data in his head, as he does so a finger raps out a beat on the wooden top of the table, an odd affectation it would seem for the man, but one that some may have noticed when he was given the right environment.

"The required procedure to activate the capabilities of the cross dimensional shift stabilizer and sublimation device are relativistically simplistic. Our personages shall be in dermal to metallic proximity with the device and concentrate on its activation. There is no rote activation procedure or ritualized pantomine required, this is a Talisman, and it does not require such. Deactivation of the stabilized effect can be completed simply and quickly with little effort, and the effect should not require any form of prolonged maintenance or attendance."

He says to reassure them, letting them know that at the very least activating the device will be nothing to worry about. He intertwines his fingers now as he leans forward. "My research into the devices requirements indicates that so long as our personages remain within a limited distance of the device, we are free to act and interact with our environment or other individualized personages at any juncture that it is so determined necessary to do so."

[Emily Littleton] It is a great view, and the setting is almost restful. Would be restful, if the Lafette weren't in need of so many repairs, were there no Demon showdown looming just beyond that unbroken horizon.

Atlas explains that there is little-to-nothing to do about activating the Talisman. He explains that it's relatively simple to maintain the effect once it has begun. That there is no trouble with deactivating it, either. Somewhere, midway through, Emily rests her elbow on the table. She leans her chin into her hand. She thinks, and she wonders, and she worries.

"Atlas," she asks, gently. Curiously. Because there was no real reason to get alarmed just yet -- just stage fright, nerves, butterflies of inexperience in her stomach. "How did you come by this Talisman, again? I apologize, if you explained it at the meeting. There were so very many people there..."

Her brow is gently furrowed, but this is of no great concern just yet. These things are new to the Apprentice, and so she asks questions. She Seeks. She hopes to find. Today she is looking for a reason not to be worried; not to think they're missing some great portion of the puzzle, as much as it pains her to second-guess elegance.

[Atlas Mason] Emily asks a valid question, where did the man get this talisman, this potent artifact of magical power and sophistication, and Atlas takes little time to answer that question, given that it must be done so to assure the young woman that all is well, or at least as realistically as it can be.

"The device in question was located in three distinct and individualized pieces upon the materiel that formally housed the personages of the three paradigmically active individuals who had aligned themselves mentally, physically, and metaphysically with the entity classified as Edom. It was through the utilization of the device that those individuals were capable of maintaining the stabalized dimensional wormhole that was recognized and witnessed by several individuals at the sexually active social gathering point."

He says with certainty. "There appear to be no viable reverse states or redundant activation utilities within the device, It's utilization is strictly with the individuals who physically command and interface with it directly. There is a minimal risk of 12.474% that there will be any ability of the aberrant forces to commandeer or sabotage our activities remotely."

[K. Jakes] "Ah," Kage says, and enlightenment touches her eyes (calm [immanent]). The red-haired, ember-haired woman rests both elbows on the table, cups her chin in the palm of her hands, for the moment fey, still looking at Atlas: "That was rather brilliant, Doctor Mason. In which case, I believe we might talk about procedure when - and if - anything attempts to come out, while Ashley, Daiyu and Wharil are inside. I take it there's a chance of this happening?"

[Atlas Mason] "An applicable inquiry Kage...a addendum before continuation of this discussion. While my personage and inherent and acquired capabilities and knowledges do acquire me the prefix utilized for the height of a particular and generalized professional endeavor. I have not utilized that particular in 27 standardized solar traversal time unit's. My parentalogically acquired designation will suffice for individuals of sufficient cognizant and spheric proximity such as your personages."

He says gesturing happily to them, tellin them just to call him...Atlas. But then his mind clicks back into gear and the man leans back into the folds of the couch and considers what Kage suggests.

"The possibility of such a phenomena is not minimal despite current data suggesting otherwise. At the hostile juncture between our conglomeration and the satellite personnel of Edom, entities located beyond the aperature of the wormhole were incapable of traversing the event horizon, however data..." He pauses briefly looking out to the waters for a moment. "Data suggests that the frotean entities that attempted to traverse the event horizon retained a negatively enforced physical presence, negating the entities capabilities to locate."

He taps his chin with a finger at that looking up through the canopy to the sky above. "Should such an event occur. A pre-established social dynamic or to the layman..Chain of Command should be utilized to appropriately delegate and establish a suitable plan of repulsion and deterance to any aberrant factors capable of traversing the event horizon."

[K. Jakes] [WP. >.>]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 6, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)

[Emily Littleton] It was Kage's turn to ask questions, and Emily's turn to listen attentively. They had not worked together, like this, before, but they seemed to have a rapport, a developed sense of what one-another might be asking. They have a rhythmn, these two, however subtle.

"Perhaps a sidebar, just one more, before we move on?" Emily asks. Her head is canted a bit to one side now, thoughtful, her curled fingers occluding her mouth. "You mentioned that the three guards were using this at the club -- but it was not unified, then. Will we be able to carry it as three separate items? That would free us up to act more independently, which should make policing and defending an Aperture easier."

[Atlas Mason] Atlas nods slowly as Emily asks her question, seemingly in agreement. "Indeed, data indicates that once the device is activated and sustained in its functionality it is unnecessary for its intrinsic components to remain interlocked and actualizing upon each other's syncronicity.
As long as suitable geophysical distance does not exceed twenty feet from each intrinsic component the wormhole should remain stabilized."

Emily talked of moving on, doing something else perhaps? "Is there a secondary or tertiary set of particulars that have induced a dualized locality of your individual personages?" He asks looking from one to the other. "My current stock piles of Salmonidae are not congruent with the utilization of the comestible thermal inducer." He says with a sad shrug before sitting up straighter.

"My current supply of H20 saturated with a significant source of Citrus and Sucrose however is currently within the range of 2.31 liquid litres if your internalized nutrional induction tract's are indicating to your synaptic relays that nutrients are currently necessary."

[K. Jakes] [Hug WP!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 7, 9 (Failure at target 8)

[Emily Littleton] Her brows knit for a moment, and Emily ponders the particulars of what Atlas is saying. Then what he's asking. It's a moment of perplexion followed by:

"Oh!" Epiphany. "No, not dualized locality of personages," she says adopting his linguistic cant without intending to. "I intended it metaphorically, to represent divergent conversational foci: assigning a chain of command and assertaining expected function of the co-opted Talisman."

There's a pause, here, and Emily straightens somewhat. Letting her arm lie flat on the table, she's no longer hunched forward and thoughtful.

"Twenty feet should afford several degrees of freedom," she mutters, quietly, and reviews in her head the underground encounter. "And, for what it's worth, I vote one of you two should head the chain of command," Emily says, plainly, and with no eagerness for leadership responsibilities.

[Atlas Mason] "Ah...." Is all that Atlas' says off the cuff as he nods his head, a remarkably short answer from the man, but at the same time...it wasn't really words so much as a noise to explain that he had understood what Emily was saying, and had realized his mistaken interpretation.

He then took a moment to look over at Kage, as he is certain she is doing the same, they had both fought together effectively before, overcoming menacing scarecrows and foolish artists, but they had never dealt with something quite so ...immense.

"If it is acceptable to Kage's intrinsic internalized socio dynamic, I will temporarily accept leadership command level abilities for designation and delegation. If this is untenuable for her personage, then I will submit to her hierarchal ascent."

[K. Jakes] Atlas and Kage have fought together well, before. And both times, they'd just worked together, managing to complement one another's skills with minimum of fuss. Mages are individual creatures, but they are also human, and the human is a social animal, a pack animal. Kage is looking pensive, or distant; one of these things. How she manages it so well, so effortlessly: and how expressive her eyes can see (never, ever emotionless [ardent]) without really giving much away. Her lashes kiss her cheekbones, a blink, when her attention is recalled to the here-and-now. Her mouth quirks, and there's something sardonic there. Almost always is.

"You put this Talisman together, Atlas," she says, simply, "And you've experience. I nod to it. If, when we're in the middle of whatever we're in the middle of, something happens, either Emily or I have an idea, a suggestion, I'm certain we'll be able to work it out. I trust you two to be considerate, and watchful. I think," a beat, and she frowns down at her fingers, slender, interlaced on her lap now, "that this dangerous, fucking crazy, insane plan will work. In the end."

Kage scootches out of the seat and gives Atlas a hug, wholly impulsive, and perhaps wholly surprising -- Kage, for all her muted flamboyance, is a restrained creature, demure. The hug is not: "Lemonade?"

[Emily Littleton] Kage brings Hope, a ray of sunshine in an otherwise verklempt and stormy sky. She brings impulsiveness and hugs! Not hugs, without their own punctuation, but hugs! Exclamatory hugs. Emily had received one (with less punctuation but as much emphasis) earlier this week. It bears noting: The Traditionalists are in trouble, but the Orphan remains hopeful. With Emily on the cusp of joining a Tradition, finally, these are moments that she will be sad to leave behind; they are to become things looked-back-at, reminiscings.

"I can be considerate," she assures Kage, with a slightly wry twist to her mouth. This is the closest to Emily's old smile that the set of her mouth has come in days, weeks. Time units of an unsatisifactory measurement. That smile, momentarily, touches her dark eyes, casts them a less stormy blue.

"I hope you're right, Kage," she says, with a growing hopefulness of her own. These things are not so insurmountable, yes? Atlas is brilliant, Kage has recently surpassed her own boundaries and become something more, Emily is reaching, growing, changing.

Then, for Atlas, on a warmer note. Something to look forward to, something to hold out hope for. She adds, "We still owe Ashley and Riley a rematch when this is all over."