"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.
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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."
no subject
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?"
no subject
"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?"
no subject
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."
no subject
"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.