2021-08-16: Piece by Piece
- Log: Piece by Piece
- Cast: Ida Everstead-Rey, Citan Uzuki
- Where: Sylvaland City - Market Borough
- Date: August 16, 2021
- Summary: Ida makes a request to speak to Citan in a more or less private capacity; she has questions of late about Omnigears, Limiters... and Azoth.
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
It's a beautiful summer day in central Sylvaland. The trees' lush canopy provides shade and shelter from the heat, and a gentle breeze blows in from the lake, carrying the scent of flowers. Near the lake--not far from the boat-stalls and the surrounding shops--is a good-sized teahouse. The Canopy opened its doors two generations back, and has since turned from a tiny hole in the wall to a thriving shop that grows, processes, and sells high-quality tea to Sylvaland, and beyond.
Ida's meant to make a visit ever since the travel restrictions eased, and yesterday's tense expedition left her wanting something comfortable, homey. She's gotten it. The heiress sits at a finely-wrought table in the back, next to an open window with a view of the lake. It's just secluded enough for privacy, without being too secluded. Ida herself wears her hair in a braid, and has donned a light silk tunic, slacks, and martial artist's shoes--the latter clearly in the Shevat style. She sips a cup of green jasmine while she waits for her guest. It's damn good tea.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
Fortunately, this time, damages are being taken care of courtesy of the Yggdrasil's crew. Not that he's the type to put honor before pragmatism, of course, but it's a fair assumption that even if he had attempted to turn down the offer Sigurd had made, his old friend wouldn't have let him. His Gear had gotten a little more beaten up than he'd intended, after all.
And he'll need the machine in working order, one way or another. This is a fact of which he's certain, particularly after what had happened in Spira.
What other things best left buried in the past are still waiting down there in the depths of the sunken city?
...But it means that until the work is done, aside from whatever the Black Wolves apply themselves to, Citan Uzuki is slightly 'grounded' in his options of where he can be at this precise moment. Sticking to Sylvaland had seemed best presently, at least so long as the Wolves remained in the region (or on the other side of the portal).
So, really, it had been quite easy for Ida to get in touch with the doctor.
"Ah, Miss Everstead-Rey, I hope that I did not keep you?" he asks, approaching her table. The place in question is just as she had described it to him.
He turns towards the window, gazing at the lake beyond it. "...This is quite the view! It is not every day that one is able to appreciate a scene such as this," he remarks, glancing back her way for a moment. "It is fortunate that we have such fine weather today."
He waits, perhaps for her to invite him to take a seat or, perhaps...
She had hinted at the reason why she had wanted to speak to him today, after all.
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
Ida looks up from her tea, and smiles. "Not at all, Doctor," she says. With her free hand, she gestures towards the other chair. When Citan remarks on the view, Ida nods, her eyes hooding for a moment. On a day like today, she could almost forget that the planet is slowly dying. Almost. "It's beautiful, isn't it? Nothing like home, not that home doesn't have its own beauty--if you know where to look."
The heiress waits for Citan to seat himself, waits for the friendly young server as he walks up to the table and helps Citan place his order. (He is very knowledgable about tea.) Only then does she speak.
"I've been thinking about what I've learned from the doctors in Shevat," Ida says. "And... about the Gear Seymour stole. You... seemed to know quite a bit about it, but I wasn't in any place to listen to all of it." She was too busy trying to keep out of the line of fire--which, in a Gear battle, is the difference between life and death for someone on foot.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
Exactly.
On a day like this, in a place like this, it's possible to forget that Filgaia slowly marches towards its end.
One way or another.
"Indeed..." the doctor agrees, nodding slowly. "'The sort of beauty that is now rare in this world'," he remarks, as if quoting someone. Lahan, he cannot help but reflect, had once been one of those places. On a spring morning in the mountainside... or in the winter, the trees devoid of leaves. Two halves of the same coin, in a sense.
...'Nostalgia', he is given to recall, is made of two words from an older tongue: 'home' and 'ache'.
But he does not linger long on this point, either; Citan takes a seat.
And with the help of the server, he makes his selection.
And then, once they have a moment of privacy, Ida speaks.
"...You are speaking of the Limiters and the Omnigear, are you not?" he says, once she has said her piece on the subject. "Well." He exhales a long breath. "I am not certain how much use I may be regarding Limiters. I know of them because of my former role within Solaris, but what I know is also what the doctors in Shevat know. Nevertheless," he continues, pushing his glasses up his nose, "perhaps it would be best if you asked me your questions regarding...?"
He pauses for a moment, considering perhaps her second area of concern.
"As for the 'Omnigear'... again, I have some familiarity due to my old role. Solaris, too, has sought their power in the past... and thus I have some understanding of what they have gleaned about these Gears over the centuries. But... I should caution you, again, that I cannot necessarily promise you much in the way of the answers you seek. It was fortunate indeed that I was able to provide the information that Miss Barber required before she was placed in that situation."
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
Sadness creeps into Ida's smile. "I almost went into botany," she says. "I was 'strongly encouraged', in fact, by the Director of the Department of War Antiquities back at Eastbridge." There's just the slightest hint of venom in the words, but it fades. "But how could I? It would be like writing Filgaia's epitaph--seeing everything die, year after year, until only records remain." Ida sucks in a breath, lets it out as a sigh.
"I'm having it removed," she says. "The doctors told me it would take a slightly more... complicated procedure, given my physiology, but it would merely be a difference of a few hours. The only question remaining is, well." She sips her tea, and looks Citan in the eye. "What would happen? I've lived my whole life not knowing it was even there. And yet, there must be people without them, yes? Unless they're a relic of the ancient past..."
Ida has reason to be uneasy, and that reason has settled into her very bones. What would happen to the graft if the limiter was removed?
"As for Omnigears... do you know when they were first created?" Ida asks. She has an entity in mind that might fit the profile.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"I see..."
Botany, was it.
"And did you have a love for flowers, even so? Or was it not only 'that' which prompted you to select a different path?" Citan asks, lifting a hand to his chin as if to consider what she is saying.
She's having her Limiter removed, she says.
What would happen, she asks him, looking him directly in the eye, when the Limiter is removed?
"...There are," he says. "Those who were not born on Filgaia would not have them." He smiles, wryly. "Solaris has a long arm, but it is not nearly long enough to reach Lunar, or beyond. Then there are those who would not have one because of when they were born." Emeralda comes to mind -- even before taking into account her nature. "And then there are those like me and those who live in Shevat, who have either had theirs removed or are their descendents. I think that..."
And he takes a moment to glance out the window, gazing at the still lake surface in the distance.
"...Life will not be very different from day to day for you. You may find that your mind seems clearer, as I have heard some remark. Or, perhaps, you will find sudden reserves of power you had not been able to access before, as I have heard from others. But for most..." He shakes his head. "You may simply 'be'. More than before, of course, but not so much that you will have awareness of it. Like the flow of water," he remarks, gesturing in the direction of the window, "your self may expand to those places within yourself it could not reach before... but the level of the water will not change. Even with your, ah, situation, I do not think it may be much different."
But does he know that for certain? Or is that merely an educated guess that he is making?
She asks how old they are -- the Omnigears. He can only shake his head in response.
"They are... old. Older than Solaris, perhaps as old as the Zeboim civilization. Perhaps they might even be older," Citan responds. "I am sorry. That is as much as I can say."
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
"I did," Ida says. "I still do, despite Bridges doing everything in his power to encourage it." Where is he now? Is Odessa still forcing him to build war machines? Ida's repeatedly asked ARMS' support staff if they'd come across any leads, but Odessa appears to be keeping that card close to its chest. Why wouldn't it?
She nods, takes in Citan's words, mulls them over. "There have been moments," Ida admits, "when the truth seems to settle uneasily in my mind. Claims that there are other humans on worlds beyond Filgaia and Lunar." Her voice lowers to a whisper as she speaks. "Filgaia is our home--I feel it in my bones, or..." A pause. "Something is there, and it makes the alternative too ridiculous to think about."
Ida folds her hands around the teacup. A thought occurs to her, and she smiles, slightly. "I used to wear corsetry," she says. "I haven't in years, not since shortly after I came to Adlehyde. But Mother insisted on teaching me to control my Breath while wearing one. That tension there made everything so much harder... but when I finally stopped, controlling it came so naturally." Citan would know. It's difficult to control one's metaphorical breath--Chi--if one's literal breath is hindered. "I'm wondering if it would be like that. It's as thrilling as it is terrifying."
On the subject of Omnigears, Citan says what he can. "I see," she says. "I have... reason to believe Solaris has access to a partially-constructed Omnigear, or a system of comparable potency. That's why I asked."
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"I see! Perhaps you had ought to speak to my wife sometime," Citan explains, gesturing vaguely with his right hand. "She sketches as a hobby, you see, and has a particular interest in botanical drawings though she has only some passing grounding in the field proper." About as much as she had been able to learn growing up in Shevat, which while not devoid of flowers had been somewhat limited in the same. At least the textbooks had been thorough, as he had understood it.
Though most of her studies had been focused towards the art of war, particularly after she had shown aptitude for it.
Citan fidgets a moment with his spectacles, regarding her throughout. "...I wonder. Would they be 'humans' like us, or merely look like us?" he muses. "After all, some of the Hyadeans... but... hmm. Now that you bring the matter up, it is also quite interesting how, ah, receptive their biology has been with our own. As I understand it, creatures that are distinct from one another cannot produce offspring -- or at least, not fertile offspring." He was a country doctor, he knows what a mule is. "Is it the case that Hyadeans are simply that adaptable, or is there some deeper reason?"
But without a way to communicate with the stars, speculation is all that he can do.
Goodnaturedly, he grimaces when Ida speaks of corsetry. "I must admit I... have little knowledge of such things," he says, shaking his head. For one thing, hardly ever been in a place that has favored the fashion. For another, well...
Discussing underthings like this with a young lady does make him at least passing uncomfortable. He is hardly a prude, but...
And so he settles for a simple, "I see... I suppose it could be a similar sort of situation," because that's about as far as he would prefer to take it.
And then Ida speaks of the Omnigears.
"Really... and what is it that makes you think so?" he asks, mild curiousity unfolding across his expression.
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
"Does she?" Ida says, eyes brightening with interest. "That was one of the main reasons why I came to Ignas in the first place--the expedition needed an illustrator as well as a collector." It feels like another lifetime, but at least there's continuity. She still brings in specimens to preserve, and to illustrate.
Citan asks a question that is far thornier to Ida than it would be to others. "I don't know," she says, with a shrug. "I know that there were others, before me--at the very least, they tried to make them. I still have the data from Cage Tower..."
And then Ida realizes she may have overstepped, unintentionally--which she would consider a minor miracle of liberation if it weren't still deeply, viscerally embarrassing. Her face starts to redden. "That was too much," Ida says, looking away. But she doesn't berate herself for it. Progress. "I apologize."
Fortunately, Ida has another question to seize on. "Solaris has gained control of an intelligent war machine," she says. "They're reassembling it--" And there's a tic, a flinch, a note of the self-reproach that stayed its hand earlier. Azoth is not an 'it'. "--piece by piece."
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"Indeed, she does. In fact, if you had some herbarium specimens, I believe she would appreciate that. Currently, I do not think she is able to easily travel," Citan explains, punctuating the statement with a slight shake of his head. Yui has reassumed most of her former role within Shevat, the better to see to things there and care for their daughter. Just as he has his own duties, she has her own.
This sees him sit upright in his seat. "In Cage Tower...? When? Do you know?"
In other words, was attempted a thousand years ago? Five hundred? Or was it more recent than that yet? "Do you have any idea who might have attempted such a thing?"
But that's before Ida says something that leaves him flustered. Nevertheless, Citan shakes his head. "...It is quite alright. I am..." and he lifts a hand to his mouth, clearing his throat, "...not offended." It's just awkward. That's all. In a different situation, he may have laughed.
Right now, someone else could get the wrong idea. He only has the eyes for one woman, and he's already married to her.
Fortunately, there's something else brought up that directs the conversation away from the mild faux pas. "An... intelligent war machine?" Citan has leaned forward a degree, studying Ida's face as she explains. "And they have already deployed it? You have seen it yourself," he concludes.
"But it is still incomplete. I see..."
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
Ida nods. "I'll be certain to take some when I next visit," she says, a smile returning to her face. It darkens, slightly, as she remembers Cage Tower. "It was... during the War," she says. "The Old War. And whomever started the project was on the side of Filgaia." Ida swallows, and wishes she had more tea, because her throat has gone dry. "Maybe they were simply studying the enemy. Maybe they wanted to create something to kill them--a disease, perhaps, or a chemical weapon. Or maybe they wanted something more. Viable chimeric organisms."
"I have," Ida says. "Several times, now. It... appears to be rebuilding itself. Solaris has unquestionably subverted its mind, but I can't..." She trails off. There's something she's not saying--can't bring herself to say, yet. She trusts Citan with her life, but it still feels like a betrayal.
Idiot child. He'd betray you in a heartbeat if his programming demanded it. Less than that.
"I can't help but think he isn't wholly willing."
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"On the side of Filgaia... I have come across similar hints of such things, here and there," Citan says, rubbing at his chin. "I cannot say I have the breadth of experience that you have, Miss Everstead-Rey, but it does appear to align with what we have learned. It is difficult to say with certainity whether they were studying the 'enemy', as you say, or whether..."
Whether it was something more than understanding their foe. Creating a biological weapon, perhaps -- a thought that does not pass without a certain distant twinge -- or even whether they had been...
Some things don't change, regardless of the era, the place, or even the culture of origin. Riesenlied had told him about the strata of Hyadean society on Filgaia.
"...Still, they were conducting fusion experiments? And you are certain of this?"
He is no biologist -- merely a country doctor -- but even (especially) he knows there are better ways to learn anatomy than by attempting to fuse one body with another.
But that isn't the only item of concern. Solaris has a weapon, an intelligent weapon, and one that is in the process of rebuilding itself.
Slowly, one would hope.
"...That sort of creation is beyond the capacity of Solaris," Citan says at last, furrowing his brow. "Without question, it is something that they unearthed. And, they have been able to control it? You are certain it is fully under their control?"
She thinks so because as she has just said, 'he' seems not wholly willing.
"Is that so? How many times have you encountered this weapon?"
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
Ida nods, once. "I'm certain. I was even able to make use of their data--I had a compounding pharmacist create altered versions of Hyadean drugs for my own use."
Beyond the creation of Solaris--that's equal parts comforting and disturbing. On one hand, it means even they have technological limits. On the other, she's seen what they're capable of, and if the weapon outstrips even that...
"They have enough control to force him to treat friends and allies as targets, should they get in his way," Ida says. That's telling. What sort of war machine has friends and allies. "In his... his twisted form, twice, but..."
"His name is Azoth," Ida croaks. "It's Azoth."
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"If they were conducting fusion... it is an assumption, without question. Perhaps we are missing important context, or there was some other purpose. But... what else would they have been attempting to gain?" Citan shakes his head, as if in disbelief. "With everything else there would be a simpler way to accomplish it. Either they were attempting to grasp the properties of Hyadean flesh, or..."
Or create people who could straddle the lines of the conflict, gaining an advantage in war.
Or, perhaps, they were even seeking immortality. Hyadeans live long; humans do not.
Whatever the reason behind it, though, this seems to be an end that has been sought again and again throughout history.
But there is also the matter of the weapon.
Solaris has never delved into true AI research. Only limited, automated systems with some learning capacity, meant so it's been explained to not be fully sentient.
But Ida refers to this one as 'he'.
"Azoth... and you have met him outside combat," he says, brow furrowing further. "At a time when his orders did not require that he fights against you." It's a statement of fact: she herself had said these things, and he's just filled in the gap between the words. After all, what sort of war machine has friends?
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
"I don't like the possibilities any more than you," Ida says. She looks down at her right hand, clenches and unclenches her fingers. The muscles and tendons move as they should, but there's an odd rippling that travels down the inner surfaces of her fingers--like the flexor tendons were harp strings being plucked. "But you're right. We're missing pieces of the puzzle."
The friendly server returns to refill teacups. Ida takes advantage of the lull to gather her thoughts. "He's... spend the better part of a year in the guise of a Drifter," she says. "An android, though his current chassis is unquestionably a poor substitute for his original frame. He might've been part of a great vessel like the ones Solaris uses, or even a Gear. Not that one could tell, by looking at him. He's... a quick study. Very good at emoting in such a way as to elicit sympathy, and empathy."
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"Indeed..."
It would be easy to write off the problem of human-Hyadean fusions as a problem of the past. But this is not the case anymore, and both of them know it. After all, was it not all that long ago that someone had attempted the same thing on a much sloppier scale?
And that was even after the fact that the Hyadean side was technically attempting something similar on their end, during the more recent warring. He knows what happened to Riesenlied, and he knows who else was involved. But it doesn't even stop with what happened to her, and indeed, involves a situation he's not even currently aware of.
But the matter of a sentient war machine -- in the hands of Solaris -- is a more present and certain threat, and, worryingly, one that he hadn't been made aware of. Which means it's a recent development, which means that...
And it will be especially if it's completed. Once it's whole, what will be done with it? He can make a few guesses, and none of them are particularly good outcomes.
"So they have been deploying him in that manner," Citan muses, settling back in his seat. Steam pours upwards from the surface of his cup slowly. "I wonder. Are they using him as a... weapon in this way? Or in order to find the remainder of his missing components? ...With a few notable exceptions, sentient machines are a rarity. But of course, you know this," the doctor tells her, nodding once. "I have only some passing familiarity with them. They appear to be strongly linked to the Zeboim era as a rule," he reiterates. "Beyond that... it would not be difficult to downscale some of the same components used with Gears and align them thus. Or at least, that is my best guess towards their function. But, many of even the most ancient or powerful of Gears are not 'alive' in the way they are," Citan finishes. "That is a 'miracle' we cannot recreate."
The fact that what they have is part of a Gear that may have had created with a 'mind' is... astonishing, to say the least.
And their capacity, even in a new form, hasn't diminished.
"I see... so he has flexibility on top of whatever power his current frame provides," Citan remarks. "That could make him an ideal 'spy' as well as a weapon."
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
Ida clasps her teacup in both hands. "I was with him in New Kasim City when he picked up the scent of a missing piece. Every last ounce of him bent towards finding it--he was able to translate for us, but his mannerisms completely changed. He spoke, but not in comon idiom. He translated for us, but his face was... blank, emotionless. And when he installed the piece, he whisked us to safety, apologized, and was back to his old self."
"Or his old mask, at any rate." Citan says Azoth would make the perfect spy. Ida's eyes darken with sadness, and she smiles, knowingly. It's an eloquent look.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"Hmm..."
The doctor mulls over this bit of information, his own expression darkening as she explains what had happened in New Kasim City. "And you fear that the Azoth you know is not 'real'." Citan shakes his head. "I am sorry. I cannot give you an answer one way or another." Slowly he picks up his teacup, cradling it with surprising delicacy in callused fingers. "There are those that say that a 'soul' can only be granted by 'birth'. I feel it is more complex than that," he continues, gazing down at the liquid's surface. "After all, you have met Emeralda, have you not? If 'that' is merely a machine... well, then, perhaps we are all simply machines. We receive our own sets of commands and programming, after all." He smiles, wanly.
"What it is that makes a machine have a 'soul', though... As I said, it is a 'miracle' we can no longer accomplish. I do not know what it is. But then, I do not know what makes a human have a 'soul', either."
He shakes his head. "So, as I had said, I cannot give you an answer. It could be due to Solaris that he became in that way. Or..."
A social mimic. It would be a useful thing for a machine to possess -- humans have their own programming. And anything that can effectively manipulate it can survive and thrive among them.
You wouldn't even have to necessarily be sentient to do it, in fact.
He doesn't say a word more in response. He just meets that look of hers with one of his own.
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
Something rustles beneath the curtains. There's a pillow half-tucked beneath them, and reclining on that pillow is a small black-and-white papillon. Lola settled down for a nap before Citan showed up, and Ida let her sleep--they did take a nice, long walk prior to this, and she was worn out. But "worn out" is a temporary state when it comes to Lola. She stretches, rises from her tiny, borrowed bed, and shakes. Ida glances down and smiles as her pet trots over to sniff Citan's shoes.
"I hadn't even thought of it that way," Ida says. She hasn't thought much of souls, since her faith is still in limbo--but she knows there are people out there who would reject Azoth, or Emeralda, or Kamui, or Tio as being mere things. "Solaris has sworn him to secrecy. If they find out he's been compromised, they could decide he's not worth the risk, and shut him down--or worse."
Lola cocks her head back, whines. She doubles back, puts a paw on Ida's ankle. Ida picks her up, and settles her in her lap; almost immediately, she feels a little better. "I want to know the truth," she says. "And I want him to know the truth. He doesn't deserve what they've done to him. No one does."
She's trying not to think about the alternative--that there's no one there.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
"The nature of 'consciousness' has long been of interest to me. Perhaps I am given to reflect on it a little more than others as a result," Citan remarks, shaking his head. "The more I observe the likes of Emeralda and Kamui, however... I cannot say what the precise gap, if one is present at all, that exists between us and them."
He takes a sip from his teacup. His gaze turns briefly towards the small dog as she trots on over to investigate his shoes. "I am afraid I have not been anywhere interesting," he remarks to Ida, smiling a touch. Perhaps Lola agrees, given that she turns her attention away from him and back towards her mistress.
"...Unfortunately, I feel your fears are likely. While those with 'power' can withstand the sway of Solarian society..." He shakes his head. Someone in Azoth's position, he implies, obviously does not have 'power' in that society by default. And thus...
But his expression grows ever more pensive; after a moment more he sets down his teacup carefully and studies her expression. "The truth..." Even if it turns out to be something she might not wish to be true, his silence and expression both speak.
Soberly, he nods. "A admirable intention," he says at last, his expression remaining introspective to the last.
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
Ida reaches down to stroke Lola's fur. "Maybe there is, and maybe there isn't," she says. "It doesn't make them any less worthy of love."
The heiress takes a long sip of her tea, and tries to think about what she can do. "Power is not strength," she says. It would seem a minor semantic quibble, but for the certainty in her voice. "But you're right. He's less than a Third-Class to them, isn't he? A machine." Ida's shoulders tighten at the thought of it. "They certainly don't care enough to ensure his chassis doesn't rip itself apart mid-battle. If I--If I knew more, then maybe I could..." Ida clenches her hands into fists. Lola whines again, and looks up at her.
"I don't know. What I do know is that I can't tell Azoth any of this. He's compromised." Her voice trembles a little with pain. "Others know. But perhaps--if I know more than he does--I can act without putting him in mortal danger."
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
His gaze follows as she reaches down to pet her dog. "Yes. The same has been argued about animals, in fact. Even if there is a gap, our responsibility towards them does not change," he says to her.
"Indeed," is Citan's response when she speaks on the difference between strength and power. "But they are often conflated in Solaris. Perhaps not even only in Solaris... I would say that there are many who mistake the two. But I understand your point," he says to her. His gaze shifts downwards, to his teacup.
"Yes. He is... 'equipment'. They would not unduly harm him if it could be avoided, as he represents a sizable investment, but that should not be mistaken for 'care'. ...Yes. If he can be easily repaired after deploying his functions, then they would see it as acceptable. Much the way you or I might see damage inflicted upon our Gears, in fact." A point that the doctor, with his Gear 'in shop', does not miss.
Ida wonders what she might do -- what she could do to help. Bemoans her lack of knowledge.
"What do you intend to do to try to find out more, Miss Everstead-Rey?" he asks, perhaps as a means to guide the direction her desires might take her.
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
Lola is a true companion dog, possessed of keen social intelligence. As her human tenses, she nuzzles into the crook of Ida's arm. Ida looks down, manages a smile, and scratches Lola behind the ears. "Responsibility," she murmurs. She applies more scratches, which give way to belly rubs as Lola rolls over halfway. "I can't claim to know what this good girl is thinking," Ida says, "but she seems to see me as hers, as well."
Talk of Gears brings Ida's mind back to what she'd mentioned earlier--about how Azoth was a war machine. Was he a Gear? He certianly demonstrated aptitude for piloting one, though she doesn't know how much of that was him operating on the fly. He was almost certainly larger, more powerful, given he'd shown such dogged persistence in trying to master the Machina Suplex. "He personifies them," Ida says. "Gears, that is. I do the same, sometimes, but with him, I wonder..."
And then Citan asks a hell of a question. As with most things Solaris, Ida has no eyes on the inside. Her tentative contact with Lydia's handler was just that--tentative. She doesn't know much about how Lydia's situation has changed, and doesn't want to put her in danger, or put Azoth in danger if she's been compromised further. But...
"Ragnell," Ida says, her eyes lighting up with realization. "Ragnell might know more." She's not human. She trusts Azoth enough to use him as a vessel, and he trusts her enough to let him do that. If there's anything she knows, well...
Ida knows Ragnell is driven. She stood with K.K. as they played chicken with the Guardians themselves. She's dangerous.
But Ida has to try.
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
Citan smiles as if faintly amused and shakes his head. "Perhaps so... I admit that I have never particularly been much of an 'animal person', myself." This may not be surprising, given where he grew up -- or the fact that he's a tinkerer by nature. Still, given how his daughter takes to animals of all sorts (and particularly birds)...
"It may be our nature to do so. We often think of trees or flowers as possessing a sort of 'soul'. I understand most children do so with their toys." He suspects his daughter does also, but it's difficult for him to tell, between her nonverbal nature and his being away so long. He might need to learn how to understand her answer to that question, in fact. "I admit I feel sorry for my own Gear at times, as troublesome as it can be..." Sometimes he's even given to wonder if it has some sort of malevolent will imbued into it, or something of that nature.
"Ragnell... the Seraph?" he asks; he likely has only had passing interaction with the elemental spirit. "So she is also involved with Azoth?"
He pauses as if considering the matter further, then leans in to say, his voice low, "It is no certain thing, and I say this with all necessary warnings..." Citan pauses, as if to consider the best way for him to phrase this, "...but it is not impossible that you may find some... potential lead among their holdings on the surface. ...I am not recommending that you attempt to directly infiltrate one of their bases, as that would be tantamount to suicide. Nevertheless, they would not be fielding him directly from the capital. It is... out of phase with the rest of the world, you might say, and the time and expenses would be too great. If you could uncover where he is being managed 'locally', as it were, however..."
It might be a good place for Ragnell to start the rest of her work, so to speak.
<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.
"I imagine you wouldn't have grown up with them," Ida says, her smile fading slightly. But it returns when Citan speaks of the tendency to anthropomorphize--admits he does it, too--leaving Ida feeling ever-so-slightly vindicated.
"I understand," Ida says. "All due caution. I'd be a damned fool if I did otherwise." She sets her teacup down, having reached the end of her second drink.
"Thank you, Doctor," Ida says. "For the advice, and for the company."
<Pose Tracker> Citan Uzuki has posed.
He doesn't say anything at all when she mentions he probably didn't grow up with them, but neither does he precisely change his expression any. He just looks at her, and perhaps that will suffice as a response: a simple, noninflected 'yes'.
Still, to anthropomorphize is to be human. He can't even begin to count the number of times he's yelled at a machine or even a particular faulty part.
"Indeed... I would not wish to have sent you into peril. Nevertheless, this is the best option I can suggest to you and Miss Ragnell, should you decide to pursue it."
Just please be careful, the look in his eyes says. Even if Ida herself is not involved directly. Even if it is a Seraph who pursues the matter into its heart...
"You are quite welcome," Citan tells her. "As a matter of fact, I ought to be thanking you for the tea!"