Closed(ish) | Guarding Mr. Daisy

[lotusmesenpai]

Who: Sion, Lavi, Kanda & anyone they meet at the Summit
Where: Springhill Compound, Peace Summit
When: W6D2 - D6
Summary: Guarding Sion during the summit should be an easy warrant. Unfortunately, nothing with Sion is ever actually E A S Y.
Restrictions/Warnings: Kanda's fine command of language, as usual.

Comments

W6D2 - For Sion

[lotusmesenpai]

[Later than they'd intended, but they'd arrived without incident to the set of suites allotted to Sion and his guards - not much. Two sleeping rooms, a bath, and a central sitting room.

They'd split once inside, Lavi to check the bath and the room designated for them and Kanda the sitting room and Sion's. After a long moment, he poked his head out the door and waved Sion in before disappearing back in once again to go through the closet more thoroughly.]

Everything seems to be in order, Sion, but there are a few places left to check, just to be sure.

[Once he can hear the other's footsteps enter the room, he calls back over his shoulder, the perpetual scowl still in place.]

...I don't get it. You're high enough in the Company to have commissioned a security detail. So why'd you ask for us specifically?

[sunderings]

[ Humble, the quarters assigned to their party of three, the space evocative of a blank canvas; the bare bones of a loom, ever a reminder that it is here at Spring Hill Compound where hope for a brighter future will be painted, the tapestry binding sister moons together in strength woven anew, and...! That even so unvarnished a location, plain and guileless to the eye, might house threats of its own, for there are those in the Quad who would wish to see the summit fail, and perhaps on a more personal level, see the Director himself fall.

(As he almost had during the riots which had set the wheel of good-will into motion.)

Still, where there is a scowl upon Kanda's face, there is a smile upon Sion's own, the Director shifting his weight to the toebox of his boots so that he might have height enough to peer over the other man's shoulder and into the void of the closet.

It seems clear—there are no bugs, no monsters in sight. ]

Truly, did you not expect for me to take you up, upon your offer? [ Falling back a step, he sets his luggage down, a hand raising to his lips to muffle the sound as he clears his throat, commencing with his best impression of the other man's voice in three, two, one...!!: ] "You can request us for a contract any time."

[ Or so it had been said. (And that impression had been terrible, hadn't it? Sion is left wincing in the aftermath!!) ]

Though, if you are after a honest answer... [ Sobering with a shake of his head, he speaks his next words easily: ] ...I trust you.

[ And as much should be of no true surprise, even after all this time. Sion's heart... it hasn't changed. ]

[lotusmesenpai]

[Such an optimist, Sion. Where one expects something progressive, something to replace a hope robbed from so many, Kanda knows better.

In his experiences, greed and vice rarely give way to provide for the dredges of humanity.

In this, their perceptions of how far humanity will go to redeem itself is like that of a star shining bright (Sion) and a moon lost in the shadows away from a sun (Kanda). So excuse him while Kanda's inspection is more in-depth than Sion expects - this is a Company provided facility, and he does not trust them not to use the most invasive means of surveillance the Nine can provide.

That immitation of his voice, however, has Kanda drawing back to shoot Sion a distinctly unamused look.]

I had a brain plague then. Can't be held accountable for saying something so stupid. Idiot.

[And then the white-haired idiot had to go and be all sincere again, the honestly of those words ringing all too true between them, and Kanda sighs - right before stepping closer and flicking Sion lightly against the shoulder.]

I've told you this already, but you should stop wearing your heart here. It's gonna get stabbed one day... and I can't always be there to protect the damn thing.

W2D2 - Lavi

[lotusmesenpai]

[Closing the door behind him, Kanda sighs and crosses to one of the beds, pulls the katana from the clip on his hip and lays it carefully on the bed before flopping down onto his back.

Reaching up, he runs a hand over his face, mind still assessing defenses, choke points, the myriad of ambush points he'd seen between entering the compound.]

Sion's settled for the night.

[Dropping his hand, he turns to look at Lavi, a slight frown on his face. ]

I'm going to walk the compound, try to make a more complete assessment. You coming, or are you already in 'Bookman mode'?

[Because he knows, doesn't he? Kanda's here for Sion, but Lavi - he's here for the history in the making.

And honestly - he can't fault the man for doing what he's been trained to do. Besides, he should be enough to guard Sion's back for a few days.]

W6D2*

[inksplashes]

[ Security had been swept, but only on a precursory level. Gone, at least for this venture, is his propensity to be meticulous about the minutia of their personal activities. Gone, likewise, is his concern for such boundaries as personal and professional. From the moment they'd stepped into the compound, he'd divorced himself from everything and everyone that wasn't tantamount to his tasks as a Bookman.

Not that it was an obvious shift for most; indeed, he had been affable as ever, a smiling face among a sea of straight-lined mouths. And he had been observant, he had watched the faces that passed by them with the keenest eye of detail, but the intensity of his gaze and his careful questions were not that of a security agent.

(It's an unconscious display, this trust. While he may relish in the chance to truly fulfill his duties and forget the confusing, overly-attached nature of his relationships with the people here, he could not do so if he didn't know Kanda would carry the slack.

But they've always trusted each other in this way, haven't they? That's hardly been the problem.)

When Yu turns to look at him, Lavi is already at work at the stationary desk meant to accommodate light writing, a sheaf of clean paper to one side of him, empty journals to the other. His handwriting is precise and painstakingly laid down, though to an outside eye--as all of them are aside his own--the scrolling text resembles nothing of a spoken language.

He hears something, a soft buzzing at his eardrums, but he ignores it at first, continuing to lay down his thoughts as if he fears that any time spent away from the task will siphon the clarity.

But then the noise hums again, and he finally lifts his head, blinking himself back into awareness. He twists--a little too sharply, the stitches in his ribs protesting this pivot--and recalls the sounds. Words, he realizes upon replay, questions.

Barely a smile, distracted and away from the world, as he waves a hand in dismissal. (He has time, at least, to notice that Yu's too perfectly tied back hair has started to slump from the wear of the day, and he's pleased to see this, because soon it'll be far enough down to fetch the tie that binds it painlessly.) ]

Yeah, sure.

[ It's not precisely an answer, but the promptness with which he turns his head back down and resumes writing is, he'll realize in the hindsight of solitude, enough of a reply. ]

what I meant, really*

[lotusmesenpai]

[Kanda has the distinct impression that he could be standing there naked and shouting ridiculous declarations of love like those pointless movies and he would have gotten the same 'yeah sure' answer.

And the image that thought evokes is enough to let a soft chuckle out as he pushes off the bed in one swift motion.

Rather than reclaim his sword, however, he crosses over to Lavi's bag and reaches into a side pocket, takes a few of the items therein out. Because times like this, there's a pattern to Lavi's actions, to the way he looses his awareness to everything but the task at hand, and three years is plenty of time to give him a script for this particular play.

This time, however, he decides to modify it - just a little bit.

He waits until there's a break in writing - barely more than a pause between lines - before stepping up behind Lavi's chair. Oh, he could have done as he has before, moved to the side and set things in place without disturbing the man, but this is just a little more fun.

At least for him.

Which is why he leans over that shoulder, sets the spare inkwell and quill down on the corner, well within easy reach once the bookman invariably breaks the tip of the other and needs it, and then starts to withdraw. He pauses though, the tail of his hair sliding against Lavi's arm, lips just shy of brushing the curve of an ear.]

I'll leave you to focus, but try to keep an ear on the room while I'm gone. Radio if you need me.

teach it to others til your knuckles bleed ❁ W6D2

[shikomizue]

[Takasugi isn't alone as the delegates dissemble for the night, drinks already in hand for many. From the side of a Leithan who recognizes him from a bar - congratulating him on his talent - to accompany a bar owner from Old Town who is looking for nothing but profit.

His family died in the chaos, he says. But Takasugi knows his wife and child left years ago - the barkeep's complaints had been loud enough for every patron to hear. Likely with the hope for extra tip.

Setting up a fund with this man should funnel some of the relief money away nicely. With platitudes and vapid assurances of understanding, the deal is made - and Takasugi sets his sights on a perfect transition.

He joins Kanda's side with no veneer of stealth, an arm drifting around the other's shoulder - not resting it's weight but raised to point to the bar.] Sobriety doesn't suit one well in this place. [Oh, but-] Not that you're suited to talks of peace... [The brat is made for war, he suffocates himself by dampening it's imminence.]

W6D3 Instead!

[lotusmesenpai]

[Less than five feet away, Sion is deeply engaged in what looks to be a healthy debate - not that Kanda cares. Oh, he can hear the words well enough, but he's not here to pay attention to what people say.

He's here to watch this idiot's back, and infer the intent of those daring to get close to his charge.

So when Takasugi sides up to him and throws an arm over him?

He glances down to the hand at his shoulder, the direction it indicates, then turns to arch a brow at the other, a slight hint of annoyance marring the otherwise stoic expression.]

I don't give a shit about what they're saying. Sorry, Pops. I'm working right now.

[Turning his gaze back to Sion, he nods towards the white-haired diplomat, the hint of exasperation and warning there all at once.] Personal security warrant.

[shikomizue]

[Between them, irritation greeting a dull smile is the standard for enthusiasm. For Kanda to ever meet him eagerly would be a sign of danger - one of the most euphoric states of mind is to come face to face with an object of hatred. As source of muted annoyance, opinion only beginning to coalesce, there's no cause for caution.

Takasugi lowers his arm only after a pause to tilt his head toward the Killjoy's mark. It's a brief acknowledgement, the burial of a challenge to lash out at the white-haired man only to dig a shallow prickling into his companion.]

Aa. [He spares a second glance to the diplomat, long enough to feign interest - he has no plans on contacting the vivacious Company man.] The annoying ones are difficult - so many enemies - discerning true threats a sharp eye. [He looks over the thinning crowd of milling diplomats and laughs, shrill and sudden.]

You may even want to mangle them yourself.

Lavi; W6D2

[sunderings]

Lavi...?

[ —Sion's voice is a light, fluting thing, his smile triumphant if only because he's managed to get the other man alone at long last, securing a moment to...! Extend to him a parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with red string. And even if the trimmings should do precious little to hide the contents of the offering itself—books, no doubt, from the size and shape—isn't it the thought, the sentiment behind the gift which counts?

Gratitude, for the time when Lavi had needed no warrant to protect him; relief, in knowing that the man has made a swift recovery; and ...happiness, in seeing Lavi again.

These three simple, small notes, had come together in a chord so profound that it had prompted Sion to scour through the relics left to him by his late father, that which hadn't been scavenged by others in the wake of the man's death: history. Journals and other accounts of the early colonization of Leith; stories, revolving around how the moon came to be. ]

I hope you can accept this as a 'thank you'.

[inksplashes]

[ Damn.

He'd been doing remarkably well to steer clear of Sion so far, or at least, avoid any moments of solitude with him, but as they say..

All good things must come to an end.

Cringing to himself, Lavi heaves a soft breath and turns around at that gentle call, a vaguely strained smile offered in reply to the more overt display of his companion. There's little time to worry on masks and appearances, however, as his next expression is more genuine, eyebrows rising and knitting together in surprise. It takes him another moment to accept the proffered parcel, fingers finding purchase in the well-worn grooves between covers as he does so.

(He knows, as all lovers of a thing do, the shape of his source of affection, and would know the contents even if the wrapping had gone to great lengths to hide it.)

But where his smile falls is at those words, his expression softening into something a little more bittersweet. He shakes his head and offers the still unopened package right back, because: ]

Nah. You lived, that's thanks enough.

[ There's the sound of laughter in his voice, though it's not a sound that reaches his eye. His free hand rubs anxious circles at his nape until he bids it to stop, instead reaching out as if to grab Sion's hands and transfer the package himself. ]

Here, I can't accept this. Thank you though.

[sunderings]

You cannot or you will not?

[ Falling back a step (just out of Lavi's reach!), Sion clasps his hands artfully behind his back, rocking back and forth precisely once upon his heels with a deliberate shift of his weight. But for all that his stance is playful, the Director's voice rings with solemn intonations, white lashes veiling over golden eyes as he speaks— ]

And how is it that you are able to say 'thank you' to me, but I am not to be allowed the same measure of courtesy?

[ No, it hasn't gone unnoticed by him, how the other man seems keen upon doing anything (and everything) to keep both himself (and others) at bay, no more than the strain to Lavi's smile has escaped his eyes. Strain, and nervous energy, giving way to... a heartbare look, Lavi's expression shifting from something practiced and structured by route to a by far more vulnerable thing.

(Do I cause you so much pain, Lavi...?) ]

You are fathomless to me, someone who can be so selfless and yet so fearful of others in turn. [ What sort of man is it who risks life and limb to protect another they would have nothing to do with, were it only their choice? A remarkable one, is the answer; a man deserving only of respect. ] You saved me, I owe you my life, and yet--...

[ There is the question which had lingered with the Director since the moment they'd met, and Lavi's gaze had drifted elsewhere, far beyond Sion himself, past the Noah, focused upon something which only the mind's eye might see. ]

Why is it that I feel you cannot bear to look at me, Lavi?

W6D3 - Kanda

[rhygret]

[ Coming to a "peace summit" on a moon that recently rioted, for the purpose of the people doing the rioting is not exactly Rhys's ideal vision of a week well-spent. He might not have a head for danger or when hes about to get into it and he certainly isn't keen on being back so soon after that whole bandit ordeal, but...it could be useful. There will be people there for Westerley and Leith, people who could maybe be of some use in getting his plan off the ground.

Rhys lives a cushy lifestyle. There's no doubt about that. He has access to money and funds from his family's accounts and his own stake in the Company, but it's not enough to fund what he's got in the works, and he can't exactly see either his family or The Company being big on lending their Joy to the cause. He needs resources and backers beyond his own personal scope, and a way to make some profits fairly quickly.

So...networking. He can do this. He may be a Kendry in name, but that's really about it in the scope of evil genius levels of manipulation and competency. He's better at talking the talk than walking the walk. So he's hoping that helps him out here as he stands around and tries not to look too uncomfortable with this whole thing...

Until he spots Kanda and his stomach promptly drops even more because he sure did get his...husband? Partner?? Into a lot of trouble earlier. And while Kanda isn't exactly the nicest guy around Rhys feels like he should at least...say something. Right? So he swallows his drinks, clears his throat a little, and decides to head over. ]

H, heeeeeyh, [ yeah he may have burped a little mid-word don't think about it ] --sorry that was the water. Ho uh...how you doing? You're what? Working?

[lotusmesenpai]

[For all that Kanda's language is absolute garbage, his mannerisms, natural grace, and general sense of refined control means it's not actually that hard for him to blend in with the mixed bag that the summit turned out to be.

Even so, all he can really do is blink and scowl at bit at that - did Rhys really just burp a greeting at him?!]

...For a Qreshi, you can be pretty damn Westie, you know that?

[And then a roll of his eyes and a nod to where Sion is chatting with two other delegates, his eyes bright as he talks. ]

Bodyguard warrant. [A beat and a sidelong glance before his gaze goes back to scanning the room around his target.] Guessing you came to this shitshow because you wanted to, though.

W6D4 let's say? - Kanda

[ofobedience]

[This assignment, it's lousy. There's too much waiting around and skulking about and keeping quietly out of sight and it's not the kind of thing he excels at, all this sitting on his hands. He understands the reasons for it (no one wants to be overtly confronted by the murder squad at a peace summit of all places), knows how to be subtle and silent and unseen, but there's still a significant part of him that hopes shit will hit the fan, that he'll be needed for something other than frequent security sweeps and covert listening in.

And speaking of security sweeps, that's what he's engaged in right now. Again. He finds himself being sent out on them more often than is strictly necessary, sometimes just to get him out from underneath Sui Feng's feet or to shake loose the dangerous restlessness that builds up in him whenever he has to remain inactive for too long. And perhaps this is a good thing, perhaps this is what he needs right now, something sedate after all the chaos of the riots and the hollowed-out madness it had caused in him. But that doesn't mean he has to like it.

He's been sent off with a Handler on this sweep, the woman assigned to him just a few corridors away but close enough to catch up soon-- he's being watched a little more closely right now (which is to say, he's barely let out of the sight of someone positioned above him) in the wake of the riots incident, and it's just one more thing that skitters and slides beneath his skin like the movement or tiny ants.

As things stand, he's not exactly feeling chipper. So when he rounds a corner and comes face to face with a certain killjoy (he'd thought he'd caught a familiar scent of flowers and metal and blood), he almost turns on his heel and goes back the way he came. Almost.]

[lotusmesenpai]

[Granted, the Company has made quite the show of providing their best in security, but the Company isn't something Kanda can trust.

Which means, when the silence and proximity to his partner gets to be a little too distracting, Kanda slips from their suite and prowls the halls, conducts his own security sweeps. And while he'd sensed another person nearby, he hadn't been entirely prepared to come face to face with Giovanni.

So when he'd neared the corner and saw that particular face round the corner, he'd stopped. Waited.

Head canting to the side and hand resting loosely on the hilt of his sword, Kanda arched a brow at the other man, immaculate once more in his Company gear.]

...Didn't expect to see you here, Giovanni. Should I be worried?

w6d5, if that works? for lavi!

[fledges]

[Kate is actually weirdly in her element here. Her father forced her into enough galas and fundraising events that Kate is used to the social niceties and subtleties of something like this, even if there's so much more at stake. The problem comes from the fact that there are a lot of people from Leith here, and a lot of people who recognize her, so she's near constantly dodging them while trying to actually get things done. It's exhausting, and by mid-afternoon, her ribs are absolutely killing her, and she's forced to duck into a stairwell, leaning against the wall as she struggles to catch her breath.

She doesn't expect to see Lavi there, and she stands up so quickly that her injuries scream in protest and she winces, swallowing. Play it cool, Bishop. Stand up straight and suck it up.]

Hey. Fancy seeing you here.

[inksplashes]

[ Little recesses taken here and there, moments of reprieve stolen between conversations and guard rotations. Every day gets a little bit harder, a heavier sleep debt waiting for collection like a reaper of productivity.

He can go without sleep, he can weather a lack of food, he's done worse and in certainly less favorable conditions--but it's getting to him. Between the constant distraction of Yu's presence and the constant threat of Sion, he's started to run ragged.

Which is why Lavi can be found in the stairwell, back straight against the wall to alleviate the pressure on his ribs, eye pressed closed as he shuffles information around his head. When he hears the door open at the landing closest to him, he wants so badly to just ignore it. Pretend it isn't there, just another passing dignitary..

But a decade and a half of battle isn't forgiving, even for a man so in need of rest as him.

Straightening his back against the wall, he cracks an eye open in time to see her straighten a little too sharply, a twinge of pain on her face.

Immediate big brother frown. ]

'Ey.

[ He considers reaching out to hug her, but given his own state and that wince.. instead he just lets himself slide down to the floor carefully, breath held to prevent a cringe when he settles down. ]

You okay?

Lapis, Kanda; W6D4

[sunderings]

[ A round table centered within the arching walls of a ballroom; a dozen delegates seated and more wafting through, for here there is ample space to house an audience, murmurs of private commentary (speculation, criticism, and study of those engaged in conversation all) serving as a backdrop to the proceedings.

There are many voices to be heard: those of the Westies, as they should have rightfully been before peaceful protest had escalated into riot; those of the Leithians, wishing to extend a hand in peace in the wake of the P43X attack; and one... belonging to man displaced, whose father tied him to Leith, his mother to Westerley, and his heart to everyone in the room, both standing and seated, his words reaching out to them as the discussion itself seemed to take a great breath—

❝The Accords have fallen, but their repeal will not herald an age in which we sow hatred rather than peace, where we promote conflict rather than cooperation which might help all people achieve justice and prosperity. This cycle of suspicion and discord must end, and we must be the ones to seek out our new beginning.

I dare to propose a solution which will not only continue to allow those of Westerley to work toward futures upon Leith, but so too allow those of Leith to expand beyond the boundaries of the moon and look toward new horizons Westerley.

Leith and Westerley are not exclusive, they need not be in competition. They are sister moons, and by this bond, they will either strengthen one another and flourish together, or they will fall in a manner none too dissimilar from the Accords.

Let us work together toward instating law which dictates that Leithians who, in good faith, cede land for the sole purpose of resettling Westies may in turn receive permits to bring their businesses to Westerley.

There is opportunity which we have not yet explored, ways in which Leith and Westerley might enrich one another. With the presence of Leithian entrepreneurs upon Westerley, the economy of both moons will experience growth. Citizens of Westerley will be able to secure new employment and provide for their families without looking toward the Company, and Leith stands only to benefit from such an expansion.❞

"Sᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ... ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ."

"Wᴏᴜʟᴅ Lᴇɪᴛʜɪᴀɴs ʙᴇ sᴏ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟᴀɴᴅ? Is ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴄᴇɴᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴏғ ɴᴇᴡ ʙᴜsɪɴᴇss ᴘʀᴏsᴘᴇᴄᴛs ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ?"

❝It is enough such that two parties, one not present today, are interested. Myself and Julius Visconti included. More will come to share our sentiment, of this I am certain.❞

The dialogue shifts to debate no sooner than the statement—bold, certainly, for a Company man, regardless of rank—falls from Sion's lips, the advocacy and healthy dispute from the other delegates leaving the Director hopeful when the negotiations draw to a close, six-thirty (dinner) swiftly approaching.

It isn't until after Sion has bid several of those who'd given him their support in the deliberations farewell—thanking each for not withholding their ideas, their opinions on how to forge a lasting bond between moons anew—that he catches a wisp of something familiar in his peripheral: floral hairpins and lace, evocative of a warm golden gaze which mirrors his own and a smile which the Director glimpses in his mind's eye long before he turns, greeting its owner for himself: ]

Lapis? [ Though she'd not told him she would be present at the summit, he cannot say he is surprised—an information broker, Lapis would surely attend so very large a gathering, and more than that, he has seen how much she cares for others; how she'd tended to those injured during the riots at her own expense. More than anything, Sion knows she wishes for a peaceful future for both Leith and Westerley, and perhaps... Just maybe, she'd come to wish him well.

Upon bridging the distance between them, his happiness to see her is unabashed: ] Have you been here for long?

[oneirism]

[Even with her... mission, from Hyperion, Lapis has been doing her best to attend the summit as often as possible. Only simply listening to the voices raised among the audience and the delegates, curious and hopeful - wanting a peaceful outcome from all this, after all the chaos has happened. So when she spots Sion there, she finds herself both surprised but also pleased, his words prompting her to smile softly.

Hearing Julius' name as well causes her to perk up, glad that they're both willing to do this for the citizens of Westerley. Some part of her regrets breaking ties with her family completely, then she too would've been able to help, to encourage her family to give over land. But this is more than enough, finding herself glad she came today - quietly hoping that everything goes well.

Though with how busy she figured Sion would be, she had been intending to leave, not wanting to get in the way of his work. But the call of her name gets her to pause, her smile still in place as he cross the gap between them, her own happiness to see her clear in her smile.]

Long enough to hear you speak. That's a brilliant idea, Sion.

Alice; W6D5

[sunderings]

[ Evening on the summit's third day finds the Director fulfilled, confident that the voices of so, so very many will be answered in kind, granted response by neither oppression, nor violence, but by the placement of a new star in the sky—hope, kindled again by the signing of a new agreement between sister moons, strengthening each for the years to come. But the negotiations haven't yet finished, paused only briefly for the night, and in the interim Sion takes to the hedge-gardens of the biodome within the compound, his feet traversing the pathway before him as his mind drifted elsewhere, his thoughts somewhere in the aether high, h i g h above where his body remained grounded, moving without truly seeing.

Fact: Sion Astal is a man given to brooding, and brooding deeply, such that very little boasts a chance at pulling him free of his pensive bout of reflection, save for...!!

A hedge wall.

A hedge wall which neither member of his security detail might have protected him from (...nor would he have wished for them to...), for however absent-minded he'd been, the Director's footfalls had been incredibly brisk of pace, leaving no room for interference with a too-inevitable collision destined to be with a horrific mass of evergreen shrubbery. ]

…!!

[ ...with the majority of the summit's representatives currently at dinner, no one should have laid witness to this embarrassment, right?... ]

Ah--...

[ Very much in the moment (now that he's gone to war with a hedge, bearing several small scuffs and scratches upon his face as a result of a resounding loss in battle.....), his golden eyes are wide, sharpened and alert only to find???

His braid is caught somewhere, either upon the hedge's fencing or its many branches.

But where is the question??? This is shaping up to be quite the night... ]

[digophelia]

[ Through the remainder of the evening, Alice decided to skip out on dinner, taking that time to briefly sit outside and look at the skyline. With barely an appetite to be fathomed by Alice coupled for a dislike for social gatherings, a breather was needed. She hated to admit that the tasks that accompanied the Peace Summit were actually helping with the hallucinations and the memories of her past were subsided by the work that she had. Alice who went into it hesitantly came to like what she did and she grew to have more ideas and solutions.

With a retreat to the pavilion outside meant to be somber, Alice was left with an optimistic feeling. A rarity. The silence was nice -- that was until that distant rustling in the in the hedges pulled her attention to the hedges themselves. ]

It's a bit too early in the evening for my ears to be playing tricks.

[ She groaned to herself, hoping that whatever it was (if it existed) that it would subside. She chalked it up to being tired, nothing more than her desire to go home, crawl into her warm bed and sleep, nothing more. Yet Alice's curiosity would always get the better of her, beckoning her to eventually see what the hedges were. Was it a maze? Or a garden? No thanks to Steinbeck, Alice found an appreciation for gardens.

And, well, it was something to entertain her. Alice slid off the rail she was sitting on and walked over, her hands cupped behind her back expecting nothing. Or hopefully, something to quell her curiosity. The sound of her soft, cautious footsteps could be heard approaching and then followed by an irate sigh. ]

What's this? Sion, did you-? [ Surely he didn't get himself caught. ] You ninny, how did you get caught?

Jack - W6D3? Evening

[lotusmesenpai]

[Truth be told, there are too many of his 'bonds' starting to cross, too many people that Kanda is just now realizing he's invested in. And while he's not like his partner - determined to hide behind an every failing attempt at impartiality - he's still not familiar with how this works enough to be entirely comfortable with so many people prying into who he is, or who he was.

So moments like this in the vigilance of the day?

Ones he needs, ones that help ground him in the midst of so much bullshit.

Which is why, with Lavi working on his records in their room now that the first full day is closed and Sion preparing for the next in his own room, Kanda had taken the opportunity to slip out, to conduct his evening security check, and steal a few quiet moments in the gardens.

He'd settled with sitting on a backless bench, one hand absently tracing the delicate lines of a night-blooming flower - something so out of place on this shitty little moon.

Too bad this moment of quiet isn't likely to last...]

[refactor]

[ The Summit, to be honest, was bullshit.

Like, Jack hopes that all these idiots knew that. It was totally just placating, marketing, because that's what the Company did best. Now, granted, it wasn't exactly organized by them and he knows it, but still. They didn't let things happen that they didn't want. They allowed it because it was a gesture to placate the masses. Jack had no idea if it would work, but to be honest? He kind of hoped not. All things considered, he'd be pretty happy to see the Nine eat their goddamn words. He'd shove them down their throats himself if he could.

But, that kind of proclivity was why he was here as an observer. He was important enough to attend, but too volatile to speak in any official capacity, and he thought that was fair enough. Suited him just fine, because yeah, if he had his say? Wouldn't be a peaceful summit at all, he figured.

Though the downside is that just being an observer is boring. He's made his way around, seen what there is to see, talked who needs talking to, the whole ass-kissing shebang. Because even with his personality being what it is, he knows whose asses to kiss when he has to. Which he's also getting pretty tired of.

So seeing a garden off to the side, Jack steps into it only with the mindset of taking a breather from the exhausting and irritating tasks he's been up to. He sees someone sitting on the bench, and at first, he doesn't pay them any mind at all. Though he spares Kanda a glance, he doesn't recognize him at first. Yet as he starts to walk past, it dawns on him, and he doubletakes and looks again.

The effect is immediate. A smile comes to his face, because Jack already feels his mood improving. ]

Oh, yeah, I know those tresses— Which, not weird, by the way, you have great hair. [ He snickers ] Nnnot as great as mine, but y'know, can't all be perfect.

[ There's probably no doubt at all in Kanda's mind of who has stumbled into this moment of peace with that kind of introduction, but Jack approaches with a smile. His hands are tucked into his pockets casually, because he knows well enough that Kanda is also just as volatile as he is. Just, you know. Kanda is also way more heavily armed than he is. ]

'Sup, Kanda.

W6D...4? 5? 6? idk but he showed up. In Sion's bed, even.

[somnusrex]

By the time he made it to the Summit, Ryner was exhausted. Which wasn’t exactly surprising. He’d been traveling most of the day, after all. Wouldn’t have even shown up at all if it hadn’t been for the fact that Sion had seen fit to deliberately leave him behind, and that was just stupid.

So! He’d walked, and run a little, and finally made it, but once that was accomplished he had to walk through all the throngs of people (annoying) and ask around for his idiot Director (even more annoying, since the sun was long down by now and all he really wanted was a nap before the next day’s talks started again). Still, there was nothing for it, and he had no particular inclination to stalk the guy to whatever audience he was babbling in front of. Again.

So he asked a few people and managed to find his way to the suite Sion had been granted. Not just him, though. The people protecting him here were said to be in the suite too, which was a little too crowded for Ryner’s comfort but it wasn’t as if Sion ever slept to begin with. He just hoped the others were able to rest a little. He was sure as hell going to.

The main room of the suite was dark, as he’d been expecting. There was a door leading…somewhere, and he didn’t really care enough to open it at the moment but assumed that might be where any other people might be staying. Not that it mattered, they were probably with Sion at whatever talk was going on anyway.

So without further ado, Ryner went to the sleeping room with the completely undisturbed bed, took off his shoes and passed the hell out. Enjoy, Sion.