It wasn't really so much the fact that he hadn't personally impressed her, it was more just a certain weariness involved in having such opinions levelled at himself when they weren't actually entirely his fault to begin with. He's weathered them well enough, and he can keep taking it, but when both natives and Immune alike are both mad at him - if not with him, per se - for things that technically he more or less agrees with them about but can't actually say so... It gets tiring.
He has a lot to thank Bifrons for, really. He knows everyone who lives in the dome has them to thank for that, among a literal multitude of other things, but at the same time, he can't help but wonder about whatever it is they're doing lately. He doesn't recall having had such issues with them before, although who knows, because apparently their memories are being tampered with, and that's still yeah really bothering him, but whatever. Even aside from that - he's not sure why they would be doing... anything to stop him in the first place? It's been turning his job into less and less of the militia leader and more and more of this... just this guy who has a dull pair of scissors and a lot of red duct tape to sort out. He doesn't have the vantage point to see precisely who this is benefiting, and Alpha got into the militia - Athos got into the militia - to help the people in the dome.
So he doesn't understand it, but. That's been within the last few months. For the decades before, that? Bifrons has done nothing but care and protect those within the city, as far as he's ever known. As dissatisfied as he's become with that, he's not to any point that anyone could describe as 'drastic' or even the like. At this point, it's still just patient confusion, if tempered with the exact kind of distaste for bureaucracy one might expect from a soldier.
Anyway, Alpha goes out with her, playing along - because even if Hob were as old as she's playing to be, there's like. If anything he knows or has heard about the woman is true she'd never be showing it like this - limping? Please. The small talk is ... yeah it's pretty crappy. Unless his somewhat displaced 'nobility' form of the shit meshes well with a general 'militia' form and actually allows for some passable communication, then... Yeah.
And regardless, this is the conversation they've both been waiting to have anyway. Given her diction, he's going to trust that whatever it was she just turned on is operating, but... It's not just caution that makes him speak less than plainly. He's just also not always good at it. Sometimes, yes, but. "It's becoming increasingly difficult to push through actual projects and programmes. I'd recently had an opportunity to help rebuild some commerce in District 4 and now the Immune who was going to be spearheading that in name is disappeared. 'Gone home', apparently. I'd like to find something else to even the living conditions, or at least raise those in the same district, keep more regular patrols, perhaps even organise light, fast scouting parties, or outposts beyond the dome, given containment breaches and the danger of sudden dysthrope attack at the moment being as... Frankly we're ill-prepared. But I don't have enough manpower to do the latter without balancing what's already happening within the dome, and I can't-"
Wow, he's way more frustrated about this than he thought. He cuts himself off and takes a breath in. "There must be a reason I'm hitting so many roadblocks in regards to what feel like either common-sensical actions or just initiatives that could provide easy benefits, but I don't know what they are, which makes working to get around them that much more difficult." He finally glances at her, and wow, oh god, he's just. Like. Complained about a ton of stuff to Hob Ravani. At some point he'd resisted putting a hand through his hair but now he just shoves both hands into his pockets. "A few things have worked, I've gotten them through, but. There's so much paperwork."
He would apologise, but. That would be even more embarrassing than the vaguely styled word-vomit you just got that literally neither he nor I thought was about to happen i'm so sry, so. He'll just shut up there and look down where they're walking.
Hob listens intently; terminally shitty attitude or not, there's no mistaking that she is taking Alpha's words to heart. Because this is Alpha, and dammit he does seem like a good kid wasted on a bad job and it pisses her off to no end.
"Army travels on its paperwork as much as it travels on its stomach," she says, after mulling things over a minute. "But it ain't supposed to be like this, son. Part of the reason I retired when I did was because they wanted to give me the job you got now."
She rolls her cigarette between her lips. "I was regular army before they put a stake through that beast's heart. I remember what it was like, taking our missions from the civvies. Wasn't perfect, but we were knitted in to society. Cut them and we bled, and we damn well slapped a bandage on it. It wasn't anything like that any more by the time I got out.
"It's called goal mismatch. The boss you're trying to work for and the one you actually got ain't the same."
She gathers her thoughts another moment, flicks the cigarette butt away and burns it up. Lights off a new one. Offers Alpha one as well, because why the hell not. It's that kind of talk.
"We owe Bifrons a hell of a lot, just like everyone else. I know that, which is why I gave the militia thing a try even when I was bitter as fuck that the army was disbanded, and far as I could tell it was to get rid of the crusty old farts running it that didn't want to toe the line. I gave it everything like I gave the army everything I had because you don't do less than 100% if you want to call yourself a soldier.
"But I never reckoned I owed em my soul. I ain't putting a bullet in someone for a mission I don't believe in, and I ain't letting anyone diddle my brain. That ain't how discipline works. You know about that part by now, right?"
She'd been serious when she said she didn't think he was stupid.
As distantly mortifying as suddenly complaining what actually wasn't that much but feels like that much is to a guy who rarely actually talks about things that are bothering him until he literally can't handle them anymore, it's also oddly nice to be talking to someone who is actually listening to him do it. Not that he doesn't talk to Juliett, or that she ignores him, or that he couldn't talk to any number of other people, but. His position as leader does tend to have him try to keep that sort of shit to himself, and anyway like he said, he hasn't actually been able to figure out why it's happening, so why would he bother anyone else until he has an idea they can help act on?
Anyway it's his turn to listen to her now, and he pays her proper mind like she did him. This whole conversation is gearing up to some kind of point, he can tell, and he's already not entirely sure he's going to like it that much but he's at least trying to reserve judgement until they actually reach it. He does take the offered cigarette with a muttered thanks, because he left his in his office and he'd actually quite like one right about now.
He narrows his eyes a little bit when she brings up the mental manipulation River showed him the other day, although it's not directed at her, it's just in general. In terms of things that have been making him cool gradually towards Bifrons on the whole, that by itself knocked off a couple of degrees. "I've been recently made aware, yes." He's been actually trying to find the time to quietly investigate that further, at least theoretically. On one hand, he's not sure he wants to know how deep that particular rabbit hole dives, and on the other... Well. It's just not the sort of thing that anyone can leave alone, is it?
Anyway, it's clear he didn't quite appreciate it, or doesn't, however one wants to tense that, but it's also becoming clearer where she might be going with this, at least in the general direction. Victor's been somewhat aggressively anti-Bifrons since she was brought in from retirement even not more than a week or so ago, and what she's saying now isn't particularly any more so than anything else. He doesn't know precisely what it is, but.
"Why did you come back then, become a callsign if you disapprove so strenuously? I'm not getting the sense that you're hoping for a gentle change-them-from-the-inside approach."
"Gentle is for people who got more time than me." Which is nicer than her normal classification of 'pussies' see she can totally do this diplomacy thing.
"Army's the only family I ever had." She says after a contemplative moment. She's always been a straight shooter, and of anyone, Alpha deserves to hear it straight. Fuck knows, everyone else lies to the kid probably. "They deserve better than this. Proles deserves better than this. And hell, Bifrons deserves to be better than this too. All men are devil horses, deep down. You give 'em too much power and don't keep the rein on 'em, they run wild and trample everything in their path. We used to be the rein.
"I mean for us to be that again. I ain't gonna be Victor for Bifrons. Fuck them. They killed too damn many of my friends by eatin' their hearts. But I'll be Victor for the militia."
She's there to draw the line. Shit was screwy before the militia basically became a private army. But it got a million times more screwy after from what she saw. She looks at Alpha.
"Time we took back our own, son. We go independent, we go back to the people, and we do what we always done. We serve."
Because it always comes back to that. You might put on the uniform because you want to play soldier and impress the girls, or in her case because she wanted steady pay and the squares a day. But you make it into your skin for over 40 years because it actually means something.
He's mostly with her for at least the start of that. He joined the militia himself so that he could help the city and its inhabitants; it just happened to also be something of a family tradition. If he'd wanted to just fight things, he could have joined private security somewhere; if he'd wanted to just protect people from each other, he could have attempted to do something about the theoretically extant police force; but he was looking for something that had a little bit more staying power and potential for influence beyond pure maintenance. Given the way the militia at the time had been organised, that might have once been a possibility.
That certainly wasn't the case any longer, if the constant roadblocks and heel-dragging he ran into all the time was any indication. Alpha's not actually sure when it was that Bifrons became what they are now - perhaps they always were - but what she's talking about, the lack of any sort of a system of checks and balances in power, that's definitely what's taken place.
However, regardless of how much he may or may not agree with her assessment, that really doesn't stop him from looking faintly shellshocked at the suggestion she makes because of it. He just looks at her somewhat blankly for a couple of seconds and then looks somewhere else, making up for that lag in thoughts by frankly having far too many directly afterward. It's appealing, he can't say it's not appealing, but immediately he's running logistics and scenarios in his head and he's... just not sure. Athos never has taken to change with much particular ease, and that would be quite a change. The change, really. He's not immediately dismissing the idea, he's just. Very unsure.
Eventually he does remember he can actually ask her, "How?"
Oh good. Well, that's one hurdle crossed because he's listening, not turning her over to corporate security or laughing. At least not yet.
"We got to move pretty fast. This thing is going to take a lot of personnel to get organized, and the more people are involved, the harder it is to keep anything secret. So we work the angles and get it organized and get it done before anyone has a chance to say the wrong fucking thing over a beer."
She has been working on the framework for this for a long time. She lays it out, point by point. No shit and no holding back; she wants Alpha to buy in on this, and she hopes he knows she's trusting him. And that she needs him.
"Focus on the competent and loyal men on the lead up. Turf the ones that ain't in it for the right reasons or can't be trained. I already got Whiskey and Specialist Engelsen working on that even if they don't realize it.
"Get the financials in order. We don't move until we can pay our men. I got a lot of revenue streams getting ready to ramp up, working on more. Got an independent contractor that's trustworthy modeling it for me, I'll have projections and scenarios in your desk within the week.
"Got Echo and Foxtrot working to get a network and combat equipment array together that don't have all the Bifrons backdoors in it. That needed to happen anyway, so don't be thinking I went over your head with the kids.
"Find new base space. Land is cheap as shit in D4 but we want to straddle at least two districts so we don't let anyone make this into class warfare.
"When we move, we move all at once, and we make it peaceful. I don't want any dumbshit kids with an itchy trigger finger thinking this is the moment for glorious revolution. We call general quarters, we give every soldier the option of signing on or not. Anyone who doesn't, that's fine. The rest signs their resignation paperwork and contract for a new company. We won't get everyone. We don't have to. We're gonna have plenty enough new recruits knockin' once we are no longer the private army of Bifrons.
"We re-form as a publicly held corporation with a not-for-profit charter. All personnel as stakeholders and the general public able to buy in at a yearly fee that will be part of what keeps the lights on."
Long exhalation. "That's the broad plan. It's sure to mutate, cause that's what battle plans do in the real world. But the bones are sound."
Edited (last one, I promise) 2014-10-28 16:03 (UTC)
No, he's not that kind of knee-jerk reaction individual. He doesn't trust particularly easily, but he also doesn't feel the need to run off and tell people every little thing before he himself actually has a fair scope of it.
And who knows, maybe even then he won't. To say for the moment that he isn't conflicted, especially as she goes through and delineates what is a fairly well laid out plan, would - well. It's obvious. He's not particularly sure about it. She's obviously been working on this idea far longer than she's been out of retirement, definitely came out specifically so that she could put it into motion, and she's already gotten it going with a rapidity that he would envy if it didn't also worry him almost inordinately. The idea that the militia first could actually be divided so quickly is... Disconcerting, although he can't deny that it would probably make it easier to actually get some things done. Second though, the idea that it needs to be removed from Bifrons specifically is basically just as uncomfortable.
"They are," he acknowledges at least, feeling a sort of tension build up in his shoulders regardless. God, she just named four callsigns she already has helping her. Regardless of whether or not they know it, what does that even say about the way things are being done? "We do need a different network. The inability to communicate freely amongst ourselves has been a problem already - Echo's the one who told me about the..." In all honesty he's actually still genuinely having a difficult time processing that. The memory tampering. He's not been taking any great pains to avoid Loki now, knowing that - at least no more than he had been taking before, although apparently that wasn't his original inclination - but it was very odd to interact with the man trying to reconcile what of him he's watched in that video several dozen times by now.
"It's... Appealing." He's not sure it will work, but damn if it's not a nice idea. He's honestly just concerned about what happens if they do leave - if he does leave - and it doesn't work? If memory can be changed, then what else? He might feel a bit like all he does is tread water in his position now but at least he knows it's not someone worse. Not to mention the potential power vacuum that could take place if too many callsigns leave, because he's not naive enough to assume the entire militia will take to being privatized. Well, any more than they have been covertly. A lot of people are still loyal to Bifrons, and dividing the militia into what it is now and two separate entities, and Bifrons still has their own personal security force - god that's so many differing factions in too small a place. They literally live in a bubble.
At the same time, though...
Actually no, what he'd really like? What he's stuffed down into pipe dreams and the like, is Bifrons keeping whatever security they feel necessary for their own property, that's fine, but both a military and regular police force as well. Or something. That directly contradicts what he was just thinking about, but they need something to keep day-to-day peace and order and something that maintains a more overall presence and emergency response. That would be amazing.
You don't really get anywhere just by being worried about things, but he does think at least a few of these aren't the sort that should be so casually brushed off. "Peaceful extrication would be immensely preferable, but I'm not particularly envisioning the company losing such a large contingency of people so passively. There's a reason they saw fit to quietly take over in the first place, even if it is just power."
She takes a long drag off her cigarette. "The fact that you're agreein' with me, that we need our own network, is damnin' to all of us, Alpha. Means we don't trust our chain of command. And that ain't right." It means he already believes everything she's said is a problem. It just depends on if he's got the gumption to do something about it, or if he's going to let himself get paralyzed by the enormity of it.
Well, appealing is definitely a start.
"We got to play it smart, when it goes down. That's why we need to make it fast and absolute. Then we do it in the public eye. Make it so if there's blood to be spilled, it's their decision to do it. Make it so there's enough evidence off the network that they can't just hit the delete key and roll us back. It's gonna take plannin', and figurin', and no small amount of strategy, cause strategy ain't just guns versus guns, son. It's the whole deal. Now, I think we got this. I think with you on board, chances of victory go up by a lot." She looks at him. "Somethin's gotta give. Sooner or later. Sooner, and we can make it a controlled burn. Later, and..."
And the riots again, but beyond the scope of imagining.
"I'm just an old war horse, Alpha. You had your head, you had a free army, what would ya do with it?"
"Everyone needs a network they can trust for communication. Just because your power company supplies your house with electricity it doesn't mean they should be then privy to everything you do with it." The fact that they're literally having to have this conversation - can only have this conversation - freely and without too much worry with the aid of something to subvert the panoptical security within the dome? That's a problem. "It's not - Not specifically trust in as much as simply the fact of the matter that militia and civilian procedures don't always coincide. It is trust in as far as you can trust what boils down to the private sector wanting what's best for itself."
He agrees with her, on a lot of these points actually, but she's moving into active speech very quickly and he's still not totally convinced of it. That's a huge step, and one that in all honesty he hadn't even been thinking about except in the faintest of daydreams, as mentioned. Even those haven't been as prevalent - he just doesn't have the time. He glances down as she talks, focuses less on looking at things and more on what she's saying, letting instincts take over awareness a little bit more heavily. Push aside the concern about the failure, just. Entertain the idea.
There's every possibility that they worst that happens wouldn't be any worse than what might be happening right now anyway, right? He's probably more shaken by the memory thing than he even realises.
"Any amount of bloodshed would immediately twist the point of it. I think I've recently hit my limit for that, anyway." Yes, probably more bothered by that too. "Districts two and four are better in terms of placement." District 4 is already quite dissatisfied, and while he wouldn't want to capitalise on that precisely it would be foolish not to use it. Besides, there are fiscal reasons. Out of the lot, District 2 is probably next coolest in regards to Bifrons, and there's just the invariably tactical advantage of space and proximity to the main food source. Again, not what he'd want to use, but ridiculous not to, especially considering what tactics the potential opponent already has in play.
"Why now? Have you just been waiting for a good opportunity?"
"Yeah, son. Yeah. Used to have that. Be nice if we could bring it back." And it's fucked up, beyond fucked up that they're afraid to fucking talk without an elaborate ruse.
"I don't want bloodshed," Hob says flatly. "Problems I got with the corporation are mine alone, and I'm not here to grind my ax. These kids are good kids. All of 'em, down to the littlest mouth-breather. They deserve better than this, and they don't need to die for these sins."
She nods. "Two and four. I'll get a guy on scouting the terrain. Forward it to you so you can take a look at the logistics."
She snorts. That is the question. "I was waitin' for them to get desperate enough to call me back up so I could do it on my own terms. I could smell it comin'. I'm here cause they're thinkin' to suck my reputation dry. So yeah. More'n half of strategy is in the timin'. Hurt me to my fuckin' bones, watchin' what they been doin'. But that wasn't the time to spend my reputation. I had to wait for the moment of maximum effectiveness an' just pray it didn't take too long."
"What problems would those be, precisely, beyond what you've specified solutions for and the obvious." Because hey, if he's going to trust you and go in for this, even if they're not primary reasons, it's a very rare individual who can truly divorce themselves entirely from their quieter motivations. It's not that he doesn't believe she can, in fact she's probably more likely than almost anyone else he'd meet, statistically speaking, but still. He started in the militia with recon and rescue work, predominately. He doesn't go into situations without as much information as he can gather.
As to the rest of the first part, he nods his agreement. At least they can establish early on that they're firmly on the same page in that respect. It'll be important to discuss reactions should Bifrons head in that direction themselves, let alone the people, but considering the reaction most Immune seem to have as far as he's observed, the recent splitting in the general populous regarding their popularity, and their apparent hubris... It's a bit of a gamble to say they definitely won't resort to that, but he's definitely seen their public image be a bit less tarnished than it seems to be at the moment.
At the answer though, he looks somewhat less tense, if only for the few moments when he sort of might smile a little bit. "To be honest I was somewhat looking forward to actually making some headway on a few things when you signed back on."
Long silence as she thinks about the best way to put this. Finally, she says, "I was born in D4. Lived there til I joined the militia. It was rough, but it was always home. I watch Bifrons shit all over my district and my people cause we wasn't useful to them any more. D4 used to be the heart of Proles, and then we weren't even worth a shit and got told it was our own fuckin' fault somehow. I seen good people starve, and good people get killed because they're looked at like fuckin' vermin and no one can afford a fuckin' private security company. I seen people in D4 dyin' because the militia's tied up to a company that don't give a fuck about it." She always sounds angry and contemptuous. But that's nothing to the hot, abiding rage that fills her gravelly litany now.
"I joined the army when I was 14. Found a dumbass recruiter that didn't ask questions. When Bifrons disbanded the army, they took the only family I ever had away and did the same fuckin' thing they did to D4. They said fuck off, we don't need you no more." She shrugs one shoulder. "I hung in. I joined the militia. And then they made it into something that weren't right. They turned on a lot of good people and killed their hearts with their brain fuckery, and I watched more'n a few of my family wither away and dry up or just flat out disappear."
She finally flicks her cigarette butt away, burns it out in a shower of sparks. "Three things I care about, Alpha. Only three principles I have. Loyalty, integrity, and family." And they're all interwoven. In many ways, they all come down to the same thing. "So when I say that Proles, that the army don't deserve what's been done to 'em, I fuckin' mean it."
Takes out another cigarette. Lights it up. Sucks on it like it's the one thing between her and committing murder. Continues in her more normal tone. "We're gonna, son. Just not in the way you imagined."
Well. That's definitely... A lot of anger to be working with. Justified, certainly, but still. Anger can turn on you and those around you very quickly. It's beyond trite to compare it to things like fire, but there is a reason people do that.
This is where normally one would expect an apology, not from the other person per se but just mentioned in acknowledgement of hardship or whathaveyou. Alpha's personally quite used to making that kind of apology, taking heat for things that weren't actually his decisions here and there, among those that were, but this isn't the situation for that. There's also the matter of him being relatively certain doing so might result in at least some sort of verbal lashing if nothing else - Victor he's known only for a short time, Hob Ravani technically both more and less so, and every moment so far has pointed in that general direction.
So he's quiet for a little while, ingesting that in the same manner and care that took to prepare it. She's smoking a bit faster than he is, apparently, and he takes a moment to appreciate the feel of it in his system. People used to worry about things like that, lifetimes ago. From out here, so far removed from such issues, it seems like such a silly thing, but in another thousand years someone will probably be thinking the same thing about right now. Well, depending on how this all goes, if it makes it into history at all.
Either way it goes, he's fairly certain it will. All that'll change is what other people think they were thinking.
"I understand the first two, at least. The last I'll have to take your word for." Family, insofar as he's experienced it, is something better appreciated in the abstract anyway, and preferably from a slight distance. Actually the closest thing he probably has to it are the other callsigns, which he knows is what she's getting at, at least in the general terms she meant it, but he's not really sure how that one actually works out properly, just that he tends to be highly protective of those under his care as a whole. Speaking of that - this could divide them right down the middle. Some of them are new, although Echo he thinks likely already spares little love for Bifrons. Others... He's not sure what their reactions would be. You can't not do something for the greater good just to spare a few strung-together friendships, but still.
"Apparently. And what about after? When this... free-standing militia is established and in contention with what was left of the old, and the private security, and those still who won't trust any of them?"
"You'll figure it out eventually," she says. That, she has faith in. If the boy's there for the militia, he'll figure it out.
"After? Two missions I got in mind is getting a path cleared to get D4 back out to the mines. Break the stasis. And provide a regular police force for the districts that buy in. One that don't got an agenda and don't care how rich your daddy is. I think you got more ideas than that. Sure, I can take it back to roots. I know what all we used to do. But I think you got better ideas than me, cause that's your job, ain't it?"
He makes a sort of well then face as he replies, "I don't know, thinking about the things I'd actually like to see done rather than simply eight ways to try and get what should already be happening taken care of - that'll be a bit of a shift in thought processes."
District 4 though, that is definitely the one that's been the most mistreated. Regardless of certain other processes that are undertaken, that one definitely needs to be rectified, and quickly. Figuring out how to diminish some of the more strict lines between the districts though, remind everyone that they're actually all - again - living in a bubble and more or less in this together, that'll be what ultimately proves to be the most helpful, he thinks.
But that goal's a much further way out. In more seriousness, "I have a few still written down somewhere, probably. Have to see where they've run off to."
And because he abruptly notices that, hey, he's switched his tone pretty fast, hasn't he. That all went from 'entertain the idea' to 'I'm talking like I'm going to do this' quite rapidly. "I'm not going to - I don't make decisions like this particularly quickly. I'm not going to hold you up, or tell anyone, but before I fully commit I need at least a bit of time. I don't want to have unfounded doubts or distractions in the middle of things later on that could stymie any progress being made at the time." And he knows how his brain works - that will happen already as it is, but at least making the attempt, he'll be able to tell himself it wasn't an impulsive decision, that it was reasoned and thought out.
Hob grins. "Get used to it." Because this is coming quick. She told everyone two weeks. She's figuring it'll end up closer to a month, but that's still damn, damn fast.
She nods. "Fair enough. Ain't the sort o' thing I came up with overnight either. You do your thinkin', and you let me know what you decide. You want progress reports before then, or should I hold 'em?"
jesus i just realised how many commas have been in all of these tags i'm sorry
"No, send them along, they'll probably help." Because in all honesty, there's not that much of a choice, is there? He just knows that his stupid, less helpful mental processes will potentially eat him alive if there isn't an attempt made beforehand to ash the food source. More or less. That got horribly poetic, in a really terrible way.
"It won't take too long. I'll let you know soon either way - you have a bit of a time crunch to handle."
Although something else he's been thinking about. "How did you bring this up to the others? I think you mentioned most of them at least not being aware or entirely aware of the ultimate plan involved."
And then snorts. "Old war stories. Tellin' each other opinions in conversation. Give 'em a vague that change is comin' and see if they're in. No details. Everyone knows it's safer with no details, and that's why I think they're wantin' to listen."
"Only one who knows the full plan is you." Of the rest, Allison Moran knows the most. "Whiskey's got a good idea I wager, cause he's a canny old bastard but he ain't askin' and I ain't tellin'. Echo and Foxtrot know I'm up to somethin', but nothin' more than the vague shape. Most of the Immune gettin' in are in about the same state."
He might have to check in with Whiskey then, see if he can't get a decent idea of the other man's take on all this. He'd just like to have as many direct inputs as possible, but he doesn't want to go around and start getting people in trouble here and there. So he nods a little, takes all of that in.
"Probably better until things are closer to movement than theory. Keep it small and selective as long as possible."
"That's the idea. We got good people. In spite of all this fuckery, there's still people who trust enough to take the leap without knowin' where they'll land." Including non-callsigns. "I dunno if you talkin' to him would make him nervous or not, but I think Specialist Engelsen's might could earn himself a commendation by the time all's said and done. Keep an eye on him. All likelihood he's gonna end up commandin' one of the platoons."
Man had looked her in the eye, and not knowing even a corner of the battle plan had said he wanted in. A lot of that was probably desperation to see something change, but it spoke well of his instincts.
"Does my black little heart a world o' good that at least a couple people out of the fuckin' special snowflake brigade actually do give a shit about our people and ain't just sayin' it to score points."
But they need to talk a bit about the other callsigns, since there's actually a lot of danger in talking to each other. Which shows how sick the organization has become. "I'ma talk to Juliet later today." She knew the first Juliet. But she doesn't know this one. "Any insight you got would be welcome. And what d'ya think about Charlie? I don't fuckin' trust scientists."
Specialist Engelsen. That's one of the states, although off the top of his head he's not sure which one specifically. He'll go find out later though.
"Charlie is more heavily connected to Bifrons than most of us at the moment, at least in as much as any callsign ever isn't. She tends to value progression in terms of her research a bit more highly, I think."
As for the other. "Juliett may be antagonistic about it but she has more to lose than most of us if we don't rectify things quickly. At least in terms of direct personal impact."
Or he could just, you know. Ask. Hob just assumes he knows who she is talking about.
"Scientists." She might say tapeworms with more affection in her tone. "Sounds like Charlie is the one who would lose out in a move. Wouldn't be surprised if we don't get her, don't think we should talk about it to her until it's go time." She considers Juliet. "Yeah, Juliet always gets the shit end of the stick. Okay. We'll see what she has to say."
Alpha doesn't apparently have quite the same disdain for scientists as Victor seems to, but he nods slightly in agreement with her assessment. He's not sure about Charlie. He doesn't want to lose her, but, she feels far closer to Bifrons than the militia themselves. But most of the others - all of the others, actually, he's reasonably certain of. And Victor agrees with him, so that's nice. Juliett - well, to say that he needs Juliett to come with them would technically be true. To say that he needs her to, would be a little more accurate.
But he's not sure what else to say, really. "I'm reasonably certain Juliett at least will come over."
"I'd appreciate that, thank you." And if Juliett surprises him, well. He might be able to talk to her, if he can manage to get past his surprise to begin with.
He does consider the thought for a few moments, but in all honesty before she sends him more information as things are planned, or the plans she has already, he feels like he's already got enough to sift through. More information right now would just colour him either one way or the other. So he shakes his head. "I'm good for now, thank you. I'll let you know as soon as I've come to a decision," he says, finally taking the last pull of his own cigarette and stepping out the end after it falls to the ground.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
haha yeah i still dk how u phone post i can barely tolerate talking on plurk w my mobile
He has a lot to thank Bifrons for, really. He knows everyone who lives in the dome has them to thank for that, among a literal multitude of other things, but at the same time, he can't help but wonder about whatever it is they're doing lately. He doesn't recall having had such issues with them before, although who knows, because apparently their memories are being tampered with, and that's still yeah really bothering him, but whatever. Even aside from that - he's not sure why they would be doing... anything to stop him in the first place? It's been turning his job into less and less of the militia leader and more and more of this... just this guy who has a dull pair of scissors and a lot of red duct tape to sort out. He doesn't have the vantage point to see precisely who this is benefiting, and Alpha got into the militia - Athos got into the militia - to help the people in the dome.
So he doesn't understand it, but. That's been within the last few months. For the decades before, that? Bifrons has done nothing but care and protect those within the city, as far as he's ever known. As dissatisfied as he's become with that, he's not to any point that anyone could describe as 'drastic' or even the like. At this point, it's still just patient confusion, if tempered with the exact kind of distaste for bureaucracy one might expect from a soldier.
Anyway, Alpha goes out with her, playing along - because even if Hob were as old as she's playing to be, there's like. If anything he knows or has heard about the woman is true she'd never be showing it like this - limping? Please. The small talk is ... yeah it's pretty crappy. Unless his somewhat displaced 'nobility' form of the shit meshes well with a general 'militia' form and actually allows for some passable communication, then... Yeah.
And regardless, this is the conversation they've both been waiting to have anyway. Given her diction, he's going to trust that whatever it was she just turned on is operating, but... It's not just caution that makes him speak less than plainly. He's just also not always good at it. Sometimes, yes, but. "It's becoming increasingly difficult to push through actual projects and programmes. I'd recently had an opportunity to help rebuild some commerce in District 4 and now the Immune who was going to be spearheading that in name is disappeared. 'Gone home', apparently. I'd like to find something else to even the living conditions, or at least raise those in the same district, keep more regular patrols, perhaps even organise light, fast scouting parties, or outposts beyond the dome, given containment breaches and the danger of sudden dysthrope attack at the moment being as... Frankly we're ill-prepared. But I don't have enough manpower to do the latter without balancing what's already happening within the dome, and I can't-"
Wow, he's way more frustrated about this than he thought. He cuts himself off and takes a breath in. "There must be a reason I'm hitting so many roadblocks in regards to what feel like either common-sensical actions or just initiatives that could provide easy benefits, but I don't know what they are, which makes working to get around them that much more difficult." He finally glances at her, and wow, oh god, he's just. Like. Complained about a ton of stuff to Hob Ravani. At some point he'd resisted putting a hand through his hair but now he just shoves both hands into his pockets. "A few things have worked, I've gotten them through, but. There's so much paperwork."
He would apologise, but. That would be even more embarrassing than the vaguely styled word-vomit you just got that literally neither he nor I thought was about to happen i'm so sry, so. He'll just shut up there and look down where they're walking.
desperation, man
"Army travels on its paperwork as much as it travels on its stomach," she says, after mulling things over a minute. "But it ain't supposed to be like this, son. Part of the reason I retired when I did was because they wanted to give me the job you got now."
She rolls her cigarette between her lips. "I was regular army before they put a stake through that beast's heart. I remember what it was like, taking our missions from the civvies. Wasn't perfect, but we were knitted in to society. Cut them and we bled, and we damn well slapped a bandage on it. It wasn't anything like that any more by the time I got out.
"It's called goal mismatch. The boss you're trying to work for and the one you actually got ain't the same."
She gathers her thoughts another moment, flicks the cigarette butt away and burns it up. Lights off a new one. Offers Alpha one as well, because why the hell not. It's that kind of talk.
"We owe Bifrons a hell of a lot, just like everyone else. I know that, which is why I gave the militia thing a try even when I was bitter as fuck that the army was disbanded, and far as I could tell it was to get rid of the crusty old farts running it that didn't want to toe the line. I gave it everything like I gave the army everything I had because you don't do less than 100% if you want to call yourself a soldier.
"But I never reckoned I owed em my soul. I ain't putting a bullet in someone for a mission I don't believe in, and I ain't letting anyone diddle my brain. That ain't how discipline works. You know about that part by now, right?"
She'd been serious when she said she didn't think he was stupid.
yeahhhh nahh
Anyway it's his turn to listen to her now, and he pays her proper mind like she did him. This whole conversation is gearing up to some kind of point, he can tell, and he's already not entirely sure he's going to like it that much but he's at least trying to reserve judgement until they actually reach it. He does take the offered cigarette with a muttered thanks, because he left his in his office and he'd actually quite like one right about now.
He narrows his eyes a little bit when she brings up the mental manipulation River showed him the other day, although it's not directed at her, it's just in general. In terms of things that have been making him cool gradually towards Bifrons on the whole, that by itself knocked off a couple of degrees. "I've been recently made aware, yes." He's been actually trying to find the time to quietly investigate that further, at least theoretically. On one hand, he's not sure he wants to know how deep that particular rabbit hole dives, and on the other... Well. It's just not the sort of thing that anyone can leave alone, is it?
Anyway, it's clear he didn't quite appreciate it, or doesn't, however one wants to tense that, but it's also becoming clearer where she might be going with this, at least in the general direction. Victor's been somewhat aggressively anti-Bifrons since she was brought in from retirement even not more than a week or so ago, and what she's saying now isn't particularly any more so than anything else. He doesn't know precisely what it is, but.
"Why did you come back then, become a callsign if you disapprove so strenuously? I'm not getting the sense that you're hoping for a gentle change-them-from-the-inside approach."
Re: yeahhhh nahh
"Army's the only family I ever had." She says after a contemplative moment. She's always been a straight shooter, and of anyone, Alpha deserves to hear it straight. Fuck knows, everyone else lies to the kid probably. "They deserve better than this. Proles deserves better than this. And hell, Bifrons deserves to be better than this too. All men are devil horses, deep down. You give 'em too much power and don't keep the rein on 'em, they run wild and trample everything in their path. We used to be the rein.
"I mean for us to be that again. I ain't gonna be Victor for Bifrons. Fuck them. They killed too damn many of my friends by eatin' their hearts. But I'll be Victor for the militia."
She's there to draw the line. Shit was screwy before the militia basically became a private army. But it got a million times more screwy after from what she saw. She looks at Alpha.
"Time we took back our own, son. We go independent, we go back to the people, and we do what we always done. We serve."
Because it always comes back to that. You might put on the uniform because you want to play soldier and impress the girls, or in her case because she wanted steady pay and the squares a day. But you make it into your skin for over 40 years because it actually means something.
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He's mostly with her for at least the start of that. He joined the militia himself so that he could help the city and its inhabitants; it just happened to also be something of a family tradition. If he'd wanted to just fight things, he could have joined private security somewhere; if he'd wanted to just protect people from each other, he could have attempted to do something about the theoretically extant police force; but he was looking for something that had a little bit more staying power and potential for influence beyond pure maintenance. Given the way the militia at the time had been organised, that might have once been a possibility.
That certainly wasn't the case any longer, if the constant roadblocks and heel-dragging he ran into all the time was any indication. Alpha's not actually sure when it was that Bifrons became what they are now - perhaps they always were - but what she's talking about, the lack of any sort of a system of checks and balances in power, that's definitely what's taken place.
However, regardless of how much he may or may not agree with her assessment, that really doesn't stop him from looking faintly shellshocked at the suggestion she makes because of it. He just looks at her somewhat blankly for a couple of seconds and then looks somewhere else, making up for that lag in thoughts by frankly having far too many directly afterward. It's appealing, he can't say it's not appealing, but immediately he's running logistics and scenarios in his head and he's... just not sure. Athos never has taken to change with much particular ease, and that would be quite a change. The change, really. He's not immediately dismissing the idea, he's just. Very unsure.
Eventually he does remember he can actually ask her, "How?"
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"We got to move pretty fast. This thing is going to take a lot of personnel to get organized, and the more people are involved, the harder it is to keep anything secret. So we work the angles and get it organized and get it done before anyone has a chance to say the wrong fucking thing over a beer."
She has been working on the framework for this for a long time. She lays it out, point by point. No shit and no holding back; she wants Alpha to buy in on this, and she hopes he knows she's trusting him. And that she needs him.
"Focus on the competent and loyal men on the lead up. Turf the ones that ain't in it for the right reasons or can't be trained. I already got Whiskey and Specialist Engelsen working on that even if they don't realize it.
"Get the financials in order. We don't move until we can pay our men. I got a lot of revenue streams getting ready to ramp up, working on more. Got an independent contractor that's trustworthy modeling it for me, I'll have projections and scenarios in your desk within the week.
"Got Echo and Foxtrot working to get a network and combat equipment array together that don't have all the Bifrons backdoors in it. That needed to happen anyway, so don't be thinking I went over your head with the kids.
"Find new base space. Land is cheap as shit in D4 but we want to straddle at least two districts so we don't let anyone make this into class warfare.
"When we move, we move all at once, and we make it peaceful. I don't want any dumbshit kids with an itchy trigger finger thinking this is the moment for glorious revolution. We call general quarters, we give every soldier the option of signing on or not. Anyone who doesn't, that's fine. The rest signs their resignation paperwork and contract for a new company. We won't get everyone. We don't have to. We're gonna have plenty enough new recruits knockin' once we are no longer the private army of Bifrons.
"We re-form as a publicly held corporation with a not-for-profit charter. All personnel as stakeholders and the general public able to buy in at a yearly fee that will be part of what keeps the lights on."
Long exhalation. "That's the broad plan. It's sure to mutate, cause that's what battle plans do in the real world. But the bones are sound."
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And who knows, maybe even then he won't. To say for the moment that he isn't conflicted, especially as she goes through and delineates what is a fairly well laid out plan, would - well. It's obvious. He's not particularly sure about it. She's obviously been working on this idea far longer than she's been out of retirement, definitely came out specifically so that she could put it into motion, and she's already gotten it going with a rapidity that he would envy if it didn't also worry him almost inordinately. The idea that the militia first could actually be divided so quickly is... Disconcerting, although he can't deny that it would probably make it easier to actually get some things done. Second though, the idea that it needs to be removed from Bifrons specifically is basically just as uncomfortable.
"They are," he acknowledges at least, feeling a sort of tension build up in his shoulders regardless. God, she just named four callsigns she already has helping her. Regardless of whether or not they know it, what does that even say about the way things are being done? "We do need a different network. The inability to communicate freely amongst ourselves has been a problem already - Echo's the one who told me about the..." In all honesty he's actually still genuinely having a difficult time processing that. The memory tampering. He's not been taking any great pains to avoid Loki now, knowing that - at least no more than he had been taking before, although apparently that wasn't his original inclination - but it was very odd to interact with the man trying to reconcile what of him he's watched in that video several dozen times by now.
"It's... Appealing." He's not sure it will work, but damn if it's not a nice idea. He's honestly just concerned about what happens if they do leave - if he does leave - and it doesn't work? If memory can be changed, then what else? He might feel a bit like all he does is tread water in his position now but at least he knows it's not someone worse. Not to mention the potential power vacuum that could take place if too many callsigns leave, because he's not naive enough to assume the entire militia will take to being privatized. Well, any more than they have been covertly. A lot of people are still loyal to Bifrons, and dividing the militia into what it is now and two separate entities, and Bifrons still has their own personal security force - god that's so many differing factions in too small a place. They literally live in a bubble.
At the same time, though...
Actually no, what he'd really like? What he's stuffed down into pipe dreams and the like, is Bifrons keeping whatever security they feel necessary for their own property, that's fine, but both a military and regular police force as well. Or something. That directly contradicts what he was just thinking about, but they need something to keep day-to-day peace and order and something that maintains a more overall presence and emergency response. That would be amazing.
You don't really get anywhere just by being worried about things, but he does think at least a few of these aren't the sort that should be so casually brushed off. "Peaceful extrication would be immensely preferable, but I'm not particularly envisioning the company losing such a large contingency of people so passively. There's a reason they saw fit to quietly take over in the first place, even if it is just power."
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Well, appealing is definitely a start.
"We got to play it smart, when it goes down. That's why we need to make it fast and absolute. Then we do it in the public eye. Make it so if there's blood to be spilled, it's their decision to do it. Make it so there's enough evidence off the network that they can't just hit the delete key and roll us back. It's gonna take plannin', and figurin', and no small amount of strategy, cause strategy ain't just guns versus guns, son. It's the whole deal. Now, I think we got this. I think with you on board, chances of victory go up by a lot." She looks at him. "Somethin's gotta give. Sooner or later. Sooner, and we can make it a controlled burn. Later, and..."
And the riots again, but beyond the scope of imagining.
"I'm just an old war horse, Alpha. You had your head, you had a free army, what would ya do with it?"
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He agrees with her, on a lot of these points actually, but she's moving into active speech very quickly and he's still not totally convinced of it. That's a huge step, and one that in all honesty he hadn't even been thinking about except in the faintest of daydreams, as mentioned. Even those haven't been as prevalent - he just doesn't have the time. He glances down as she talks, focuses less on looking at things and more on what she's saying, letting instincts take over awareness a little bit more heavily. Push aside the concern about the failure, just. Entertain the idea.
There's every possibility that they worst that happens wouldn't be any worse than what might be happening right now anyway, right? He's probably more shaken by the memory thing than he even realises.
"Any amount of bloodshed would immediately twist the point of it. I think I've recently hit my limit for that, anyway." Yes, probably more bothered by that too. "Districts two and four are better in terms of placement." District 4 is already quite dissatisfied, and while he wouldn't want to capitalise on that precisely it would be foolish not to use it. Besides, there are fiscal reasons. Out of the lot, District 2 is probably next coolest in regards to Bifrons, and there's just the invariably tactical advantage of space and proximity to the main food source. Again, not what he'd want to use, but ridiculous not to, especially considering what tactics the potential opponent already has in play.
"Why now? Have you just been waiting for a good opportunity?"
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"I don't want bloodshed," Hob says flatly. "Problems I got with the corporation are mine alone, and I'm not here to grind my ax. These kids are good kids. All of 'em, down to the littlest mouth-breather. They deserve better than this, and they don't need to die for these sins."
She nods. "Two and four. I'll get a guy on scouting the terrain. Forward it to you so you can take a look at the logistics."
She snorts. That is the question. "I was waitin' for them to get desperate enough to call me back up so I could do it on my own terms. I could smell it comin'. I'm here cause they're thinkin' to suck my reputation dry. So yeah. More'n half of strategy is in the timin'. Hurt me to my fuckin' bones, watchin' what they been doin'. But that wasn't the time to spend my reputation. I had to wait for the moment of maximum effectiveness an' just pray it didn't take too long."
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As to the rest of the first part, he nods his agreement. At least they can establish early on that they're firmly on the same page in that respect. It'll be important to discuss reactions should Bifrons head in that direction themselves, let alone the people, but considering the reaction most Immune seem to have as far as he's observed, the recent splitting in the general populous regarding their popularity, and their apparent hubris... It's a bit of a gamble to say they definitely won't resort to that, but he's definitely seen their public image be a bit less tarnished than it seems to be at the moment.
At the answer though, he looks somewhat less tense, if only for the few moments when he sort of might smile a little bit. "To be honest I was somewhat looking forward to actually making some headway on a few things when you signed back on."
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"I joined the army when I was 14. Found a dumbass recruiter that didn't ask questions. When Bifrons disbanded the army, they took the only family I ever had away and did the same fuckin' thing they did to D4. They said fuck off, we don't need you no more." She shrugs one shoulder. "I hung in. I joined the militia. And then they made it into something that weren't right. They turned on a lot of good people and killed their hearts with their brain fuckery, and I watched more'n a few of my family wither away and dry up or just flat out disappear."
She finally flicks her cigarette butt away, burns it out in a shower of sparks. "Three things I care about, Alpha. Only three principles I have. Loyalty, integrity, and family." And they're all interwoven. In many ways, they all come down to the same thing. "So when I say that Proles, that the army don't deserve what's been done to 'em, I fuckin' mean it."
Takes out another cigarette. Lights it up. Sucks on it like it's the one thing between her and committing murder. Continues in her more normal tone. "We're gonna, son. Just not in the way you imagined."
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This is where normally one would expect an apology, not from the other person per se but just mentioned in acknowledgement of hardship or whathaveyou. Alpha's personally quite used to making that kind of apology, taking heat for things that weren't actually his decisions here and there, among those that were, but this isn't the situation for that. There's also the matter of him being relatively certain doing so might result in at least some sort of verbal lashing if nothing else - Victor he's known only for a short time, Hob Ravani technically both more and less so, and every moment so far has pointed in that general direction.
So he's quiet for a little while, ingesting that in the same manner and care that took to prepare it. She's smoking a bit faster than he is, apparently, and he takes a moment to appreciate the feel of it in his system. People used to worry about things like that, lifetimes ago. From out here, so far removed from such issues, it seems like such a silly thing, but in another thousand years someone will probably be thinking the same thing about right now. Well, depending on how this all goes, if it makes it into history at all.
Either way it goes, he's fairly certain it will. All that'll change is what other people think they were thinking.
"I understand the first two, at least. The last I'll have to take your word for." Family, insofar as he's experienced it, is something better appreciated in the abstract anyway, and preferably from a slight distance. Actually the closest thing he probably has to it are the other callsigns, which he knows is what she's getting at, at least in the general terms she meant it, but he's not really sure how that one actually works out properly, just that he tends to be highly protective of those under his care as a whole. Speaking of that - this could divide them right down the middle. Some of them are new, although Echo he thinks likely already spares little love for Bifrons. Others... He's not sure what their reactions would be. You can't not do something for the greater good just to spare a few strung-together friendships, but still.
"Apparently. And what about after? When this... free-standing militia is established and in contention with what was left of the old, and the private security, and those still who won't trust any of them?"
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"After? Two missions I got in mind is getting a path cleared to get D4 back out to the mines. Break the stasis. And provide a regular police force for the districts that buy in. One that don't got an agenda and don't care how rich your daddy is. I think you got more ideas than that. Sure, I can take it back to roots. I know what all we used to do. But I think you got better ideas than me, cause that's your job, ain't it?"
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District 4 though, that is definitely the one that's been the most mistreated. Regardless of certain other processes that are undertaken, that one definitely needs to be rectified, and quickly. Figuring out how to diminish some of the more strict lines between the districts though, remind everyone that they're actually all - again - living in a bubble and more or less in this together, that'll be what ultimately proves to be the most helpful, he thinks.
But that goal's a much further way out. In more seriousness, "I have a few still written down somewhere, probably. Have to see where they've run off to."
And because he abruptly notices that, hey, he's switched his tone pretty fast, hasn't he. That all went from 'entertain the idea' to 'I'm talking like I'm going to do this' quite rapidly. "I'm not going to - I don't make decisions like this particularly quickly. I'm not going to hold you up, or tell anyone, but before I fully commit I need at least a bit of time. I don't want to have unfounded doubts or distractions in the middle of things later on that could stymie any progress being made at the time." And he knows how his brain works - that will happen already as it is, but at least making the attempt, he'll be able to tell himself it wasn't an impulsive decision, that it was reasoned and thought out.
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She nods. "Fair enough. Ain't the sort o' thing I came up with overnight either. You do your thinkin', and you let me know what you decide. You want progress reports before then, or should I hold 'em?"
jesus i just realised how many commas have been in all of these tags i'm sorry
"It won't take too long. I'll let you know soon either way - you have a bit of a time crunch to handle."
Although something else he's been thinking about. "How did you bring this up to the others? I think you mentioned most of them at least not being aware or entirely aware of the ultimate plan involved."
way to contribute to the worldwide comma shortage
And then snorts. "Old war stories. Tellin' each other opinions in conversation. Give 'em a vague that change is comin' and see if they're in. No details. Everyone knows it's safer with no details, and that's why I think they're wantin' to listen."
"Only one who knows the full plan is you." Of the rest, Allison Moran knows the most. "Whiskey's got a good idea I wager, cause he's a canny old bastard but he ain't askin' and I ain't tellin'. Echo and Foxtrot know I'm up to somethin', but nothin' more than the vague shape. Most of the Immune gettin' in are in about the same state."
ya ya i feel like a monster &c.
"Probably better until things are closer to movement than theory. Keep it small and selective as long as possible."
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Man had looked her in the eye, and not knowing even a corner of the battle plan had said he wanted in. A lot of that was probably desperation to see something change, but it spoke well of his instincts.
"Does my black little heart a world o' good that at least a couple people out of the fuckin' special snowflake brigade actually do give a shit about our people and ain't just sayin' it to score points."
But they need to talk a bit about the other callsigns, since there's actually a lot of danger in talking to each other. Which shows how sick the organization has become. "I'ma talk to Juliet later today." She knew the first Juliet. But she doesn't know this one. "Any insight you got would be welcome. And what d'ya think about Charlie? I don't fuckin' trust scientists."
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"Charlie is more heavily connected to Bifrons than most of us at the moment, at least in as much as any callsign ever isn't. She tends to value progression in terms of her research a bit more highly, I think."
As for the other. "Juliett may be antagonistic about it but she has more to lose than most of us if we don't rectify things quickly. At least in terms of direct personal impact."
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"Scientists." She might say tapeworms with more affection in her tone. "Sounds like Charlie is the one who would lose out in a move. Wouldn't be surprised if we don't get her, don't think we should talk about it to her until it's go time." She considers Juliet. "Yeah, Juliet always gets the shit end of the stick. Okay. We'll see what she has to say."
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Alpha doesn't apparently have quite the same disdain for scientists as Victor seems to, but he nods slightly in agreement with her assessment. He's not sure about Charlie. He doesn't want to lose her, but, she feels far closer to Bifrons than the militia themselves. But most of the others - all of the others, actually, he's reasonably certain of. And Victor agrees with him, so that's nice. Juliett - well, to say that he needs Juliett to come with them would technically be true. To say that he needs her to, would be a little more accurate.
But he's not sure what else to say, really. "I'm reasonably certain Juliett at least will come over."
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Walk a bit more, turning back toward his office. "You got anything else for me?" Because that's all she has, business wise.
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He does consider the thought for a few moments, but in all honesty before she sends him more information as things are planned, or the plans she has already, he feels like he's already got enough to sift through. More information right now would just colour him either one way or the other. So he shakes his head. "I'm good for now, thank you. I'll let you know as soon as I've come to a decision," he says, finally taking the last pull of his own cigarette and stepping out the end after it falls to the ground.