Code Geass: Kallen of the Revolution II

[Corwin]

<--->

[12:51] He nods as well, his expression cloudy.
[12:52] Kallen slips away. The speeches will be starting now, but nobody will miss her absence for the first one, at least; from what she recalls of the itinery, it is a report only of interest to financiers and accountants. She's not going to learn any more about her company's situation from it than she has already... so she slips out into the garden to hunt down one of her only actual friends in attendance.
[13:02] Before Kallen slips away, she spots Teresa across the room. She has returned from her little sojourn, and is smiling at Kyoko fakely.
[13:04] She can still afford to take some time to speak to her, and weaves herself around the partygoers to get there. "Having fun, right?" she remarks, once she draws close enough.
[13:06] The look Teresa gives her is as full of casual, all-encompassing scorn as ever, but then it melts away into a vapid smile. "However could I not be, Lady Stadtfeld?" she responds.
[13:10] "I can think of a few dozen reasons why, almost as many as there are people in this room," replies Kallen, putting her hands behind her back.
[13:12] A snort escapes Teresa, and she gives Kallen a dark look, struggling to retain her composure.
[13:17] "Well, there are a few reasons for the opposite, too," she remarks, turning her eye back to the stage. "Your brother seems nice. Does he come to this sort of thing often?"
[13:17] Not once has Kallen ever given a sincere compliment using such boring words, at least, not in Teresa's presence.
[13:19] "He has his obligations," Teresa responds. "To the conglomerate, to the family name. I imagine he does this a lot."
[13:23] "Planning on getting a hand in that yourself, eh? Well, it's better to be ambitious, especially while we're young~"
[13:26] Teresa smiles with polite fakeness again. "I have three older brothers, Lady Stadtfeld," she responds. "My hand, as you say, will never find its way anywhere near it."
[13:32] "Their loss, then," replies Kallen, with a shrug. "Doing things by age is so stupid..."
[13:34] "I'm certain gender had nothing to do with it," Teresa pleasantly agrees. "Irene wanted to come," she continues suddenly. "She cried herself to sleep while keeping me awake the better part of last night." Teresa frowns." "Next time she does it, I'm hanging up."
[13:37] "Well, it's her kind of music. I guess her parents had something to say about her being out." Kallen makes a face. "I wonder if they're here themselves. I honestly wouldn't know."
[13:51] "I caught a glimpse of her mother earlier. There was no chance to greet her, but--"
[13:51] "Now, wasn't that admirable?" Kyoko's voice cuts through the din of the crowd, interrupting Teresa. "I certainly never knew the Stadtfelds did so much! It's almost a shame to hold more such enlightening speeches back, but I've been asked for an encore. A person I admire wrote a while back, and I hope... well, it's all there. To all those who were there to help!"
[13:51] "Goodbye, England's rose," Kyoko begins to sing, music following. Teresa's eyes carry towards the stage.
[13:58] "I'll give her a call later and asked if she watched it," replies Kallen, after a moments silence on her part. "She's not bad," she adds, glancing at Kyoko.
[14:02] Somber one moment and uplifting the next, the song retains a dignified presence throughout. Though she is not a critic, Kallen is certain some of that is due to the singer's talent and the emotion she brings out. Teresa listens silently; her eyes appear slightly misty.
[14:02] Kallen's phone vibrates.
[14:03] It's hardly the pop song of the first event. Kallen flinches as the phone makes it's presence known, and retreats to a corner in order to check the caller.
[14:04] The phone reads RIVALZ CARDEMONDE.
[14:06] Kallen looks at the phone, briefly speechless, before flipping the phone open and answering it. "Rivalz? Is this something important..."
[14:06] "I'm sorry," she can hear Rivalz whispering. "I'm sorry, I tried to hold them off."
[14:07] "What are you talking about?"
[14:08] He's breathing heavily. "I tried," he repeats. There is a loud banging sound. "There he is!" "Get him!" Unfamiliar voices, distorted through the phone. "They found me!" Rivalz screams. "Get away, Kallen, get aw--"
[14:08] The line goes dead.
[14:11] "Your candle's burned out long before," Kyoko is singing, "Your legend never will."
[14:13] "Wha-..." murmurs Kallen, her mood shifting from that of an irritated socialite to a paranoid insurgent. The room takes on a different tone, and her eyes flit about, before settling on a security guard, whom she approaches. "Has anything unusual happened?" she asks, quietly.
[14:15] To his credit, the black suit-clad man does not argue, tapping his earpiece twice and making several inquiries. He shakes his head slightly afterwards, responds just as quietly, "Everything is in order, Miss."
[14:19] She has to acertain the situation, but Rivalz must be genuinely in trouble. That it might be some stupid prank crossed her mind, but there's no way he'd sound so panicked over that. Biting her lip, Kallen walks back to Teresa. "Call someone at the dorm and asks them if everything's alright," she states, in such a tone that there's no doubt she's serious. For her own part, she quickly calls her own house.
[14:23] "Stadtfeld residence," one of her maid, Maya, answers after two rings.
[14:25] That her maid is answering so formally in the first place tells Kallen just about everything she needs to know. "This is Kallen. Listen, Maya, if anything unusual happens, or if any visitors come calling, call me immediately," she instructs.
[14:26] "As you instruct, Miss Stadtfeld," Maya responds, and Kallen can almost see her stand up a little straighter.
[14:27] That's a servant for you. There's never any need for Kallen to justify herself. She hangs up, and glances at Teresa.
[14:30] Teresa is listening to Kyoko as the song comes to a close.
[14:35] "Teresa!" hisses Kallen, sidling closer. When it's like this, she knows she has to keep calm- but it's so hard!
[14:37] Teresa tears herself away, looking at Kallen with dismay. "What is it?" she hisses back, absently wiping at the corner of her eye.
[14:43] "Cardemonde gave me a call. It sounded like he was in serious trouble. Like he was being attacked, at school, then he was cut off," replies Kallen, filled with urgency. "It's stupid, but I don't know anyone in the dorms, so can you *please* call someone there and find out what's going on?"
[14:45] Teresa looks shaken, but nods. She retrieves a cellphone from her purse, and dials.
[14:45] Applause for Kyoko is settling down, and Major-General Davidson is moving resolutely towards the stage, the singer vacating it.
[14:50] There should be no need for her to panic and flee the premises just yet, but by what Rivalz said, someone might be after her, personally. In which case... security is too good for anyone to pull a trick here- that is, anyone who isn't already on Kallen's side. No, she should be safe for now.
[14:50] Depending on Teresa's call, she may be forced to call the police.. and make some unsavory announcements.
[14:54] Teresa is quiet, her replies and inquiries murmured too softly for Kallen to overhear without listening in overtly by pressing her ear to the cell.
[14:54] "Lisa says there's been a disturbance in the direction of the student council building," Teresa finally says, holding the phone away. "Some yelling and glass breaking. She's too afraid to take a look."
[15:01] "If someone hasn't already, tell her to call the police," replies Kallen, getting straight to the obvious. "And to get the wrestling or boxing club or something to check it out."
[15:03] Teresa looks briefly shocked, before she gives Kallen a hooded look. "I'm sure she'll get right on that, once she stops cowering under her bed." She brings the phone back to her ear, and after a few more quiet exchanges, hangs up. "Do you have anything better than a smartphone around?"
[15:06] "The function rooms. They're everywhere, and they're not locked," replies Kallen, glancing back towards the lobby.
[15:11] "Hmph. Make sure to match my donation for this, or else," Teresa mutters, and then her fake smile is back and she starts making her way towards the lobby.
[15:11] "Britannia, unbowed and united!" Davidson is saying. "Glory to the Empire. All Hail Britannia!"
[15:11] "All Hail Britannia!" the crowd responds with various degrees of enthusiasm.
[15:16] Kallen's anxiety makes it impossible to concentrate properly. Is Davidson just beginning, or was he just finishing?
[15:19] The major-general appears to be done, though it could not have been a very long speech.
[15:22] "All Hail Britannia!" the crowd roars once more all around Kallen.

<--->

[Corwin]

<--->

The crowd is animated. Perhaps it is the presence of cameras, and there is not a noble in sight who wishes to appear lacking in patriotism. Perhaps the zeal is genuine on a large part of them all, as it affirms their superiority in society.

Kallen spots Kyoko off by one of the tables, sipping champagne from a long crystal glass. The Ashfords are leaving, and rather quietly, unlike their entrance. Their maid, Sayoko, is not with them; a quick glance across the room reveals her lingering by the punch.

The major-general raises his hands by the podium, the crowd's volume rising anew at the gesture.

Kallen adds her own applause to the crowd's. If people leave in good spirits, she supposes, then they would have to call the party a success.

She needs a moment before she can truly add her own weight to it, however, to settle something. Glancing at Sayoko, she tries to catch the gaze of the maid for a moment, still from the rear of the hall.

Sayoko must be more perceptive than the average maid. Her eyes meet Kallen's questioningly.

There should be a brief break for some more toasts and socialization, so Kallen brushes back her hair a moment and heads out one of the side doors to the outer corridors, figuring Sayoko will meet up with her there.

It takes Kallen's hearing a few moments to readjust after she gets away from the din. She strides towards the restrooms, past a room where she hears aggrivated tapping -- must be Teresa, judging by the location. She slips into the restroom, lavishly decorated and empty.

Kallen is just finishing checking the stalls for other inhabitants as the Eleven maid slips into the restroom, a polite smile on her face.

"Something's gone down at the school- well, the council offices," states Kallen, launching straight into it. "Rivalz called me. Could tell people were hunting him down. Told me to get away." She grimaces. "He was seriously scared."

"Oh my!" Sayoko brings a hand to her lips. "How dreadful!"

"How long would it take you to get there? I don't know who the actor is, but we can't ignore it, right?" asks Kallen, finding something a little off-kilter about Sayoko's response. It costs her nothing to get a grip on her feelings...

"Of course we can," Sayoko responds pleasantly. "After all, Ashford Academy campus is the safest place in Area 11."

Sayoko seems to believe those words, Kallen discovers as she listens to her. Yet there is something more beneath the surface....

"But secrecy is paramount to all our efforts! If someone's doing some B&E on the premises, isn't that cause to worry? Especially if we can't identify them?"

"Lord Ashford would have been informed if any such inappropriate behavior took place," Sayoko says, this time with less certainty. "And then I would know, without a doubt."

Except Kallen can tell the doubt is there.

"That was not some prank, it was genuine panic!" Kallen twists her gaze to a mirror. "Successful crimes aren't reported until they're done. Of all people, we should know that. We lose nothing if we're wrong. Are we checking it out?"

"And what of the fundraiser?" Sayoko asks, changing the topic.

"I'm about to go wrap it up," replies Kallen, frowning. "The elites brought all their security as well as what we set up. For the duration of this thing, the place is pretty much a fort. I don't think anyone got in without getting scanned."

A burst of smugness assaults Kallen.

Sayoko inclines her head. "Yes, the security here is first rate."

"Such as it is," mutters Kallen. "I have to go before someone wonders where I am. I'll contact you if I find out anything else."

"Very well, Miss." Sayoko bows, stepping aside, and Kallen tastes amusement.

<--->

[Corwin]

<--->

Kallen slips away from the bathroom, and decides to take just a moment to check on the nearby Teresa before heading into the main room to properly wind up the evening's events. Perhaps the girl will have found something to undo her rampant paranoia.

Teresa is flipping through several images so quickly Kallen thinks they're stills, at first. Movement in one of them just before Teresa resumes the impromptu slideshow, however, reveals them to be footage from video cameras. "I've got the live feed tapped into," Teresa says without looking back at Kallen as the redhead approaches her from behind to peer at the monitor of her commandeered terminal over her shoulder.

"See anything interesting?" asks Kallen, squinting down towards the computer. "We should check out the last few minutes, if we can."

"That's pointless unless we first--" Teresa trails off abruptly, and manipulates the controls to flash back two screens. It shows the outside of the student council building; the doors have been opened inwards, hanging awkwards off their hinges. Kallen is quite certain they were not meant to turn that way.

Teresa curses, slamming her mouse against the table. "Why are there so many cameras outside the building, but nothing indoors?!" she exclaims, freezing afterwards. When she continues, it is at a far calmer voice and disposition. "I suppose that was a stupid question...."

"See if you can get footage of them breaking in, and keep an eye out to see when they, whoever the fuck they might be, leave," states Kallen, deciding to keep things on track.

"For this kind of hit and run, you'd want a car handy... so they probably parked it nearby, but outside the school. I don't think you can leave secretly from within the building or anything, and they wouldn't stick around long."

Teresa's eyebrows climb as she finally tears her attention away from the monitor to glance at Kallen.

"Ah, yes," she finally says. "While there is little else I would like to do more at this time, it appears that I am unable to access the recordings at this time. Isn't that interesting?"

"Then we're stuck with the live feed?"

"I'm stuck with it. You, go away."

Kallen rolls her eyes. "I'm expecting results," she insists, before trooping back out the room and towards the main hall.

Kallen sees Teresa salute her rather rudely in a way that would surely shock her older brother had he born witness to it. Upon returning to the main hall, she can tell that the banquet is indeed winding down as she had expected. Conversations still take place around the various tables, and the catering is as excellent as at the onset, but the stage is no longer in use. If she is to give a speech to all those who came and retain their attention, she cannot afford to wait for long or the moment may well be lost.

Despite her maddened dashing around the back halls of the Santiago building, a calm settles over Kallen shortly after re-entering the hall. Everything she could do has been done, and all that remains is what she came for in the first place- to introduce herself to the public at large, and let her feigned agenda be known to the area.

Kallen signals to her crew that she intends to move onto the stage shortly, which would prompt a slight shift in the security arrangements- more guards to the front and center- and let the media know what's coming. When the moment feels right, she begins to take her steps up onto the stage. There's no lectern, nor speech notes, but just the microphone Kyoko used and empty space on either side.

A hush spreads across the gathered nobles as Kallen advances towards the stage. The staff make themselves scarce by the time she is there, and looking over the crowd, Kallen can see the red light of the camera pointed towards her.

"Good evening, Britannia!" she calls, extending one arm to the side whilst holding the mike to her lips with the other. "And let me be the first to say, on behalf of the Veteran's Commission and assosciated charities- thank you. Today, we gathered here to pay the proper dues to those who put up their lives to defend our empire, in the hard times and the good. Today we're helping those who stand up for us, no matter the cost. And for them, we are grateful. Today we raised over fifteen million dollars- give yourselves a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen, as this is no small feat!"

Applause is poilte, contrasted with the sweeping cheers capping off the previous speech.

Kallen seems full of life upon the stage, smiling and casting her glance from nobleman to nobleman, being as all-inclusive as she can. "These funds will be poured back into the veteran's pension scheme- nobody who has served Britannia will go without their reward. A portion of the funds will go into local hospitals and care centers as well.

"Thanks to the people we've gathered here for today, Britannia has remained safe and strong. And every soldier who steps up to do his duty can know that the people of Britannia will stand united behind him, that he WILL be awarded for his work. And now more than ever, he must know he's appreciated by those he defends. That's why I can say I'm proud to be part of this assembly. It shows to them our gratitude, and it shows to all our unity- that we will always come together for a just cause."

It is disconcerting. Kallen feels as if she has many successive out of body experience, moving on from one to the next before she can even truly realize what is taking place. Only the brevity of the individual experiences and her tight focus on her speech allow her to proceed with it, while her mind struggles to keep up.

Her confidence surges; she experiences that same gratitude from others, enough to feel an echo reverberate through her. The nobles focus on Kallen, and their attention strengthens with every moment, she can sense.

"These days, that unity is needed more than ever," Kallen continues, wishing dearly that she actually did have a lectern to lean a hand on while she speaks. "There can be no doubt that now, we need our protectors, for recent events- things that will live on in infamy forever- must never be repeated. People from all walks of life have suffered in the wake of Akihabara, from those of us who have lost loved ones to the Elevens who are cajoled by violence from the right path into lives of crime."

<--->

[Corwin]

<--->

Kallen pauses, allowing herself a moment to inhale, exhale, breathe, think, and then continue-

"It is for this reason I intend to make two further donations."

Kallen is acutely able to feel the attention of everyone in the hall, from guests to staff.

"The first is to the Chrysler fund, dedicated to assisting the bereaved of Akihabara and contributing to the research of several medical institutions-" a voice reminds Kallen that they're the ones that probably perform live autopsies on virus victims, or at least would, if there were any suitable subjects- "in order to  provide recompense and safeguard us from future ills."

"The second is to a series of charities directed towards improving the infrastructure and providing vital information and services to the Elevens living on the outskirts of the settlement," Kallen refrains from using the word 'ghetto' in public, although there would be nobody hear who would mistake what she means- "-such as language tuition, medical assistance, and employment information. It's my hope that these efforts will help them choose to work towards becoming part of Britannia."

Murmurs. Kallen can't catch any -- they are too low to be overheard from the stage -- but her audience can hardly erase the shock she can see on many faces in the crowd.

Kallen is fairly certain she wouldn't want to. The unsettling feeling she receives as it is; a mishmash of different emotions from the crowd- is nauseating, particularly when she discerns just how many are odious.

"Soldiers often talk of a bond, something that can only be built out of their shared experiences; danger, and triumph both- something that transcends other differences between them. It's clear that here, in Area 11, everyone is facing the same risks. I want these donations to mean something. I want them to show that we'll stand together, and not apart," continues Kallen, more forceful than her demeanour should demand. "And I want leave you with a question, one I hope these donations can pose- who can you rely on? And who can rely on you?"

Kallen takes a step back, with a flourish of her arm. "God bless Britannia, and goodnight- I hope to see you all again."

There is a silence as Kallen concludes her speech. A palpable hesitation permeats the hall; no one is quite certain how to respond, it seems, and certainly none wish to set themselves apart and be the first to do so. The camera's red, blinking light glares at Kallen, and the silence stretches on.

Slow, drawn-out clapping penetrates the hush. The man with the messy blue hair that caused a scene earlier in the evening is smirking annoyingly at Kallen, his companion looking embarrassed at the attention they generated. Those near them have jumped at the unexpectedness of it all.

"God bless Britannia!" Kyoko calls out from somewhere at the back of the crowd, and that breaks down the floodgates. Applause follows, subdued but, nevetheless, dutiful.

Kallen can't help but smile back at the man, and she reminds herself to find out who he is at some point; introductions and discussion will have to wait, however, as as she departs the stage, thoughts of the previous few minutes begin fleeing her mind, replaced by an endless worry over just what is going on outside the Santiago's walls.

Teresa runs into Kallen in the corridor outside the main hall; she seems disturbed. "Come on, Stadtfeld, we're going to your place," she hisses. "Did you bring a car or should we use mine?"

Kallen stares at Teresa for a moment, inviting her to ponder her question.

"Out the back," she replies, after a moment. "Come on, let's go."

"Leave the goons behind," Teresa suggests, grimacing. "You'll thank me afterwards. Trust me."

"Didn't plan on bringing them anyway," replies Kallen, pulling a key from her pocket and heading for the back parking lot. It'd be the perfect indignity if she was picked up for underage driving, today of all days...

As the present owner of an automobile concern, Kallen has access to whatever cars she wants, and for her trip here she opted for a nondescript- though top-of-the-line and rather shiny- black sedan. Comfortable leather seats soon attend to her and Teresa's needs, and in a few minutes they're on the streets of the settlement, cruising away from the Santiago.

"Tell me what went down," she says, once they're on the road.

Teresa crosses her arms over her seatbelt. "It has to be seen to be believed, Kallen," she says with a huff, glaring at the road ahead. "I am ashamed to be a part of Ashford for the very first time during my life."

Teresa plans to stay at her place tonight, after all.

"Mmmhmm."

"This must not get out. We'll swear everyone involved into secrecy," Teresa continues. "I've got dirt on those who would protest. Only then can I possibly attend the Academy once more."

"The less attention any of this draws, the better."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but we need the Ashford heiress back. Without her to control that nuthouse, some of the inmates are getting uppity." Grimacing once more, Teresa says, "Dial home and tell your security to lock down the gates and head into the house." She frowns, throwing Kallen a questioning glance. "You do have a proper gate, don't you?

"My house is a fucking fortress, Teresa. You'd need a tank to get in."

Kallen shakes her head. "What, did the medieval club decide to re-enact the storming of the bastille? I was under the impression this was serious business, not a bunch of idiots protesting the campus budget."

Teresa returns her furious glare to the road ahead. "It is a bunch of idiots. If anyone learns of this, we'll be a laughing stock, especially with all the publicity from tonight."

"Are you quite sure we should be going to my place, and not to put out fires? Actually, can you just tell me what happened already?" asks Kallen, coming to a sudden stop in front of a red light.

"Positive."

Teresa refuses to cooperate, restating her belief that Kallen must see it with her own eyes, and gets only terser as they near their destination. Finally, once the sedan rounds the corner to the street where the Stadtfeld estate is built, she has her answer. Dark shapes approach in the distance from the opposite direction.

"Floor it," Teresa demands emotionessly.

"Taser's in the glovebox," notes Kallen, flashing her headlights and tearing up next to the dark shapes, soon coming to a screeching halt!

A frightened neigh joins the screech of tires, and there is a sudden yelp! An upperclassman impacts against Kallen's windshield, denting the glass.

Teresa looks cross when Kallen breaks, and her leg twitches in the direction of the gas pedal, but she seems to reconsider. Retrieving the taser, she pulls on the seatbelt to lean out of the rolled-down window and stabs the Ashford student in a tender place. He twitches violently for several long seconds, and then Teresa sits back down primly.

"One down."

"My car! That's... I only have..." mutters Kallen, trying to think of how many spares she has left in the garage. She flips her headlights to high-beam, and reverses back towards her gate, intent on surveying the opposition!

Their unintended passanger rolls back with the motion, sliding off the car to plop on the ground. The rest of the Horseback Riding Club is facing off against Kallen's car in various states of shock.

Teresa taps her fingernail agitatedly on the taser's hard surface. "What are you waiting for, Kallen? There's eight more of them!"

"You need to know how to do these things, Teresa," replies Kallen, revving the engine a couple of times. "There's eight of them. This car runs at 800 hp. That means we outnumber them a hundred to one! So we can't lose!"

She revs the engine one last time, and then floors the accelerator, blaring the horn and doing her level best to cause each and every horse to rear away in fright!

The horses scatter! Despite their training and expertise, it is all the riders can do to remain seated, and one of them fails even that. Teresa gestures urgently to that fallen, disoriented figure, waving her taser for good measure.

Kallen drags the car alongside the other figure, allowing Teresa to do her grisly work.

"You reprobates! We saw everything!" she declares, furious, and she blares the horn again for good measure.

He is only starting to rise as Teresa unlocks the passanger door and kicks it open. There is a dull thud, and the door slams shut once more.

Teresa smiles. "Seven left."

Kallen speeds up and brings the car around for another pass, wondering if she shouldn't call out an army of maids, armed with rolling pins and ladels and the gigantic kitchen knife she saw Hisui cut herself with once...

Regrettably, Hisui had been left back at the function, and who else could rally her maids to her banner?

This time, the riders are smarter, and evade with their horses, rather than try to fight against the animal instincts. "Raise our club budget!" one of them even has the temerity to demand. He might be the club's president; Kallen can't quite tell. An angry chorus of agreement follows.

Teresa grits her teeth and opens the glove comparment once more, rooting in it.

There should be an airhorn there, and a first aid kit. Kallen congratulates herself again for not keeping any firearms on her legitimately-owned belongings.

"I have all your names, you dipshits!" yells Kallen, unable to figure out what insult a proper Lady would use in her situation, and resorting to the common vernacular. "You think you'll get away with this?" She stares through her cracked window in the vaugest direction of the leader's eyes. "It's useless! Give yourselves up, and I might even let your club stay intact!"

There is a pause. "Well... yeah," the closest of the riders responds. Kallen can see him blink owlishly.

Teresa looks very cross with the selection she finds, but restocks with the airhorn.

"Our determination is without a match!" the club president calls out loudly, rallying his troops. "First, Cardemonde! Then, Stadtfeld, and our goal is clear! Onwards, men! It's just one sickly girl and her maid in a beat up car!"

Kallen is in no mood for theatrics at this later hour. Must it always come down to filling her enemies with terror?

Well, it's probably better than just running over them all and being done with it. She blares her horn again, and lashes out at the nearest student with a bolt of mind-numbing fear!

The car engine doesn't seem to be in bad shape, so as beat up as it is, Kallen is still sure she can drive circles around the students, until their horses tire (they're not MEANT for this kind of exertion, she knows), at which point things will start to get a little more hands-on.

The student in question just seizes, and then slides off his horse. He lands awkwardly on his left arm, and doesn't move beyond the occasional twitch.

Kallen's seeming inaction, however, gets three of the riders to charge her sedan! With her focus on her intended victim, she cannot react in time to the threat, and then they are there! Teresa calmly shoves the airhorn out of the window at what seems to be the last possible moment. There is an awful howl, and then the airhorn drops down; Teresa hits the release for the window, raising it back up and pushes off with her feet, forcing her seat back.

The window is dented by hoofprints an instant later, before the bulletproof glass is outright demolished, but Kallen has no time to focus on that, as one of the horses leaps on the car's roof by way of the rear bumper, and the third is not far from its direct path towards Kallen!

Kallen puts the car into reverse and takes it in a backwards turn- the impact on the horse would trigger the airbags, probably cripple the beast, and make her and Teresa easy prey for a horde of randy males.

She kicks open the door and rolls out of the driver's seat, arising once again on the manicured grass besides the road. "Six months of faking sick. All for nothing," she complains, under her breath. "Alright, you fucks. You asked for this."

She leaps on the car's hood herself, daring the nearest punk to bring it on.

The horse atop manages to complete the jump and touches down safely. Its rider is not so lucky, and Kallen's turn undermines the already shaky balance of a tricky maneuver. It is not a very high jump and he doesn't land on his neck, so the boy should probably survive. Considering the distance he rolls across the ground and the original bounce, he will spend much of his newly-extended lease on life in traction.

As she jumps, the hem of Kallen's dress catches on the edge of the opened door, but the resulting tear only serves to increase her mobility in it. Only one of the trio that dared challenge her remains on horseback; Teresa had taken her own target as well, Kallen can see from her vantage point. Regretfully, her sudden swerve not only saved her car from the inevitable collision with the president's horse, but allowed him to escape that fate as well.

Kallen's sympathy is boundless. It occurs to her that nobody here can really lodge a protest against her, that is, unless they want to bring an awful lot of legal trials upon themselves- so she gives up her reservations and dashes towards the president's horse, waiting for him to turn about before reaching to pull him off the saddle herself!

One of the remaining riders attempts to take advantage of this, but a projectile thrown with surprising precision from Kallen's car impacts his temple. The boy remains seated in his saddle, but no longer directs his steed.

Teresa climbs out of the back seat, scowling, and heads to collect her taser.

The club's president turns, shell-shocked. Donald McSomething, Kallen thinks his name is. They hadn't moved in the same circles on campus or off it.

Kallen yanks down, hard, dragging the boy to the pavement below! She whacks the horse on the side to send it bolting away- it'll be whatever's left of the club's job to pick up their errant steeds (or they pay for them out of their own pocket, she resolves.)

There weren't many left, Kallen thinks. One or two at the most, perhaps? She can see no sign of them around, and a neigh in the distance reaffirms her suspicions.

"H-How?" the president stammers, looking up at Kallen from his prone position.

"I used to be an army brat," replies Kallen, with a twisted grin. "Did the girl cadets thing and all that when I was 14. Came second in my unit, 'cause I didn't wanna come first. Hey, Teresa! What's the dirt on this guy? Donald Mc...Duck? Duke?"

There is the sounds of an electrical discharge, and a choked cry of pain. "Still works," Kallen can hear Teresa say, as the blonde approaches. "This creep? McPherson, if you care to know what to put on his headstone."

"We can't kill him, Teresa. I need someone to get these fucking horses off my lawn," replies Kallen, glancing at the steeds still milling about her premises.

"You know, McPherson, you're not very smart. You know you can be shot for trespassing on noble property? You know I have guards who would do just that? Huh? You listen to me, you dumb fuck," continues Kallen, kneeling on his chest and grabbing him by the collar. "I don't even wanna see you looking at me on campus! You're a fucking insect to me! You cross me again, and I'll bust you out of the Academy so fast by the time you realise it, you'll be whoring out for the Duke in Babel Tower!"

"You can't do this!" Donald exclaims hotly, regaining his composure if not his measure of common sense. "My father--"

Teresa kicks him.

"Your father? You mean, that guy who I own? Hey, gimme my phone, Teresa. I'm gonna buy this fuckup's house. Then I'm gonna cave it in, and stick a pole there with your stupid face on it!"

"I'm not your maid," Teresa grinds out, kicking Donald again. He yelps this time, eyes shocked anew and staring into Kallen's.

Her words are meant for intimidation; the prospect of ever actually doing more to this poor sap raises all sorts of problem's that he's not to know. One long, good stare, and perhaps she can twist his mind until he sees the idea of opposing Kallen once more is completely unthinkable.

Donald recoils, hitting the back of his head against the ground. Dazed, he does not even react when Teresa kicks him once more, digging her heel in and then twisting viciously.

Kallen pulls herself off the youth, and shakes her head. "Let the rest of your buddies know, too," she mutters. "Go on. Get your shit out of here."

"Let's tase him," Teresa suggests, which causes Donald to spring into action. She watches him scramble about, while muttering darkly, "Damn, two got away."

"Whatever, they can't do anything," replies Kallen, shaking her head. "I've got to get the car inside, and... wow," she mutters, catching sight of herself in the rearview mirror. "And we will never speak of tonight again."

"Not in mixed company," Teresa agrees quietly. She had faired much better than Kallen; while her hair is out of place, she is already brushing off her gown, and looks quite presentable. Kallen's sedan would need some time in the shop. While she imagines it should still run, its roof is dented, the bumpers are torn off and the windshield is cracked, while the passenger side's window is broken outright.

"This is way irresponsible," mutters Kallen. "Ugh." She walks towards the gate and punches in a code at the intercom that should open it up, and then sets about the inenviable task of cleaning up the debris around her ruined car, and taking it inside to the garage.

<--->

[Corwin]

<--->

A brand new day greets Kallen and Teresa as they make their way to Ashford Academy via the Tokyo Settlement's rail network. The ground was uneven by the entrance to the Stadtfeld estate when they left it earlier that morning, but that was the only sign that anything untowards took place there the previous evening. Clearly, the staff worked overtime to take care of things under cover of darkness.

"Mmm," Teresa voices all of a sudden. "Kallen, what is your position on the council?"

"Well... I was just a councilwoman before," replies Kallen, frowning. "But the Lelouch left and Shirley left, so Rivals ended up as Vice-President and I suppose that makes me the treasurer and the secretary simultaneously. Of course, Milly's away, too, so Rivalz is acting-president at the moment, but we didn't really announce that to the school."

"Our ranks are a bit thin. I'm thinking of getting replacements. Want a job?"

"It might look good on my resume, even as it destroys my aloof reputation," Teresa muses.

"Nothing important was harmed, then?"

"Ah, yes. I forget who I am talking to," Teresa deadpans, letting out a long-suffering sigh. "I heard what you've done at the fundraiser, just so you know. It must be nice, not having to worry about a public image since you can deflect everything with a title and cash."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Hmm. It's strange." Teresa peers at Kallen, pursing her lips. "This is where anyone else would make a blonde joke, but I think I'll abstain."

"You just don't get it," replies Kallen, looking at Teresa oddly. "Sure, it's because I have that stuff I can do things like yesterday. The whole point of it is to set an example. Anyone who didn't have some title would probably get laughed at, or just ignored entirely." She sniffs.

"That might still happen, even."

The train shakes slightly with a turn, and Teresa stumbles slightly, invading Kallen's personal space in a move so graceful it must be planned.

"You are very naive," Teresa murmurs, her voice for Kallen's ears alone. "Please consider your position more."

The statement reminds Kallen of her father, and her face darkens with anger.

"You have your title and money to hide behind, but do the employees of Stadtfeld-owned businesses?" Teresa adds quietly, before looking apologetic and moving back.

"Sorry. You don't have to look so grouchy, it's not like I stepped on your large feet," she says in a normal voice.

Kallen tilts her head towards the window, and watches the debris of old Tokyo speed past through the window.

"I know I have my responsibilities," she mutters.

"It is good that you understand. We were discussing, then, my bid for vice-presidency?"

"In lieu of the president's authority, you would require the unanimous support of the remaining councilmembers," remarks Kallen. "So, you see, I can't make any promises."

"I am smart and I have a shapely body," Teresa says bluntly. "That should take care of both requirements, correct?"

"If you mean to use your womanly charms, then I'm afraid you still lose against Milly."

"I was actually referring to the president's special requirement for council membership."

"Oh, yes. I won't enforce the mandatory skinnydipping this time, but when she comes back..."

Teresa's voice returns to her more common deadpan. "I can hardly wait."

Teresa is silent for a long while after that, spending much of the train ride in contemplation. It is only towards the end that she asks Kallen several pointed questions about what she actually did as part of her official duties, seeming to compare Kallen's answers against some sort of mental checklist.

Together, the two arrive at the gates of the Academy. Sayoko is standing there by the entrance, dressed impeccably as a proper maid should.

"Good morning, Sayoko-san," says Kallen, stopping by the entrance and doing her very best to not look contrite in front of the maid.

Teresa gives Sayoko a long look, before glancing back at Kallen. "I'll go ahead," she announces, and proceeds without waiting for confirmation.
"Good Morning, Miss Stadtfeld," Sayoko greets Kallen, smiling pleasantly.

Kallen is sure there's something unpleasant behind that smile, and uses her powers to determine what that is.

"I was just heading to the councilrooms. Do you know if Rivalz is in today?" she asks, beginning to wander towards the office.

It would be unbecoming of a maid to show condescention. That and smugness are negative traits that a proper maid shall never hold within her pure heart.

"Mister Cardemonde has called in sick today, I believe," Sayoko responds, easily falling into step.

"Is that so. Did you hear what is wrong with him, by chance?" replies Kallen, finding the neat lawns of Ashford to feel very similar to mud, or perhaps quicksand.

"If I might be so bold as to speculate on such matter, Miss, I believe he has injured his pride," Sayoko responds primly.

"Ah, that sort of ill. It heals quickly, but is quite stinging whilst it persists."

It might be just Kallen, but she thinks Sayoko's smile becomes wider at that.

"It is as you say, Miss."

"I'm glad you agree," replies Kallen, wandering through the still-broken doors of the councilroom and heading straight to the computer on which they store all the financial details.

The room itself has been tidied up expertly, Kallen notes, although the computer has been replaced with a different model.

"Mister Cardemonde attempted to defend the school's budget with his very life," Sayoko says with a straight face. "He did not allow the priveleged information to fall into enemy hands."

Kallen flips on the power and boots up the computer, deciding that at least one club needs to have a few adjustments made to it's details.

"He is a credit to the council. Is there some way in which we can reward his noble service?"

Sayoko looks contrite. "I'm afraid Miss Ashford would not like it if we parted with one of her reserved rewards for Mister Cardemonde without her express approval."

"That may be so. But as the only council member on campus, I believe that makes me acting president?" asks Kallen, pulling up a spreadsheet of expenditures and flipping to the entry that deals with the Equestrian club.

"That would be with accordance to Academy rules as set out by Lord Reuben Ashford, its founder," Sayoko confirms.

"Mmm. Therefore, when it comes to making concrete expressions of our approval, the buck stops with... me? I want to be sure, here," states Kallen, setting about doing terrible things to the Equestrian's budget.

"Unless countered by Miss Ashford's proxy in matters relating to finance, yes," Sayoko responds, standing behind Kallen and observing her manipulations of the school budget.

"Who might that be?"

"I am really not supposed to say, to avoid coersion both intentional and not, but I believe it would do no harm in this case. Miss Ashford has entrusted such matters to Miss Einstein."

"I could hardly get approval for financial matters without knowing her representative in that regard," replies Kallen, looking on with satisfaction as several of the numbers in the spreadsheet spontaneously turn red, or grow smaller. "Would you say that I'm being just, Sayoko-san?"

"It is highly irregular for Miss Einstein to object to anything within reason," Sayoko says. Vaguely recalling the mousy girl, Kallen has to admit it sounds fitting. "And this spread is entirely within reason, if I might say so myself."

There is a thump from the next room.

"Who's that?" asks Kallen, signing off on the budget and tilting her head towards the inner sanctum of the council building.

Sayoko seems perfectly serene. "Just some trash I forgot to take out last night, Miss. Please do not concern yourself with such matters."

Another thump, sounding more urgent, echoes the first.

"Oh, Sayoko! That's terrible! We're going to have to leave it there for another week before the truck comes again!" admonishes Kallen.

Sayoko bows. "I humbly apologize, Miss."

Kallen nods. "Alright. Class is up, soon, so I'll see you later. Give my regards to Lord Ashford if you see him before lunch, would you?"

"Very well, Miss Stadtfeld," Sayoko acknowledges, straightening up.

<--->

If it's not one thing, it's the other. During lunch break, Kallen's business phone rings. The number is from her secretary at work.

Here we go, she thinks.

"Hello?" she asks, from underneath the pleasant shade of one of the great trees that dot the Academy's premises.

"I've been hoping to coordinate a board meeting, Miss," Harold is saying, sounding apologetic. "I know that you are at school right now, but the board members are pressing and it is simply a nightmare, trying to coordinate all the schedules." There is a barely heard cough, as if he realizes he is babbling. The next time Harold speaks, he sounds much more concise and confident. "We have two openings in your normal schedule, Miss. This afternoon, from four to six, and wednesday, if we make it evening. Say around seven p.m.? Would either of these be acceptable?"

"I was coming in tonight as it was. I'll see them this afternoon," replies Kallen, full of confidance and self-assurance, at least over the phone.
confidence

"I will relay that, Miss Stadtfeld. Once again, I apologize for the iconvenience."

"Don't mind it. I'll see you then." Kallen hangs up, and emits a long, slow breath.

"Kal-len!" Irene whines, dropping by the redhead in the shade of that tree she had claimed over lunch. "You took Teresa but not me?"

Irene is pouting mightily.

Kallen flips back her phone and drops it in her pocket. "I was surprised when she showed up! I didn't think it was Teresa's thing," she explains, pulling up her knees.

"You didn't want to take any of us?" Irene asks, looking devastated.

"It was a very boring event, really!" protests Kallen. "It was all talking to old lords and their courteasans! Ugh, I could feel them undressing me with their eyes. You didn't want to be there. Trust me."

Irene blinks. "Uncle Jeremy did that?"

"Well, maybe not all of them..." relents Kallen, pressing her hands on the ground. "Ok, it had good parts, too. Everyone who's anyone did get an invitation, you know, so I thought you would've come, actually. But, you know, there will be other occasions! I talked to Kyoko, she's really nice, and we might work something out. Maybe a more casual concert next time..."

"Oh, really?" Irene asks happily, clasping one of Kallen's hands in hers. "Could you introduce us? Or get me her signature?"

"Next time there's a concert in Tokyo, how 'bout I get you a backstage pass?" asks Kallen, unable to resist savoring Irene's happiness.

It has a fluffy, perky flavor.

"Yay! We'll go together, the three of us!"

"Sure, I'll see what I can do. Did you watch it on TV? Actually, I should find out what people are saying..." mumbles Kallen, flipping open her phone and checking out a few newspaper websites.

Kallen catches a few headlines about a successful fundraiser bringing the nation together.

"I wish I could have been there!" Irene says wistfully. "I have all her albums, but that was a new song! They didn't broadcast it all, so it was a special treat for the guests...."

Kallen blinks at that revelation. They didn't broadcast the patriotic song, eh?

"Even I didn't know about that one," replies Kallen, as though she knew anything at all about Kyoko beyond what she learned that night. "I bet she'll do a proper release of it soon!"

"Ooh! I think you're right!" Irene gushes. "Was it a publicity stunt, then? Oh, I know, Kyoko would never do that, but you can never be too sure about these shady managers...."

Kallen is unable to restrain herself from giggling, and she stretches out her legs to lie down on the grass.

The rest of the lunch period is spent in pleasant conversations about nothing that manage to get the impending meeting off Kallen's mind. They manage that too well, perhaps, both girls being late to class in the end.

Before too long, however, it is a quarter to four and Kallen arrives at her office building. The ride up to the top floor is smooth, her secretary filling Kallen in on things he is absolutely certain she must know. They amount to the board being gathered in its entirety.

The lift's doors open, the meeting room reserved for this purpose straight ahead.

Kallen strides forward, determined not to allow her uniform, age, height nor gender detract from the authority that a noblewoman in charge of a company must command. Her actions, she reasons, have done enough of that already.

The five members of the board are arraigned around the table, looking at the double mahogany doors as Kallen opens them, striding within. She instantly senses the mood in the room is subdued, as well as a great deal of uncertainty from all but Michael.

Kallen takes her empty seat at the head of the table, thrown slightly off-guard by the subdued faces- she had expected some more virulent emotions rather than this sort of tone. As he's the odd one out, Kallen naturally glances at Michael, intending to pierce a little deeper into his mind while she takes her position.

"Afternoon, everyone," she announces, firmly. "I assume you have some questions, but allow me to say something first. Then, we'll have at it."

Michael seems amused at this turn of events, Kallen finds. All five nod their assent.

"The event yesterday was intended as much as reconnasiance, you might say, as well as a sort of debutant ball and an introduction," begins Kallen righting herself in the chair and placing her hands on the table. "I was personally interested in speaking to a few members of the military's upper echelons, roughly equivalent to three broad factions therein that, I feel, are the real keys to the balance of power in Area 11 at present, and people whom we should consider backing. I'll give you my impressions.

"I exchanged about ten sentences with Margrave Gottwald, alltogether. To put it extremely simply, there is no way we would ever get along. He made his misgivings in dealing with civilians- not to mention youth- quite plain to me from the beginning. How you imagine it is very likely how it went, so I'll spare you the details.

"On the other hand General Davidson was pleasant enough, but he is too guarded, too perfunctionary. He was saying the right words- in effect, saying nothing. He was just going along with the motions. It would be one thing if his Highness was present, showing the flag, as it were, but I've made my feelings to you on the Crown's status known before. Backing the status quo seems a dead end.

"Colonel Abrahms was the last I spoke with. He alone was out there, in the crowd- he had a crowd, I might add. The man has charisma, I'll give him that- he had a way, it seemed, of making the unpalatable seem reasonable to the onlooker. I spoke with him for a time on his goals, mostly for within the military itself.

"What most impressed me was his dynamism. The other generals seemed in a sort of stasis. Abrahms is moving forward, trying to promote change on a level beyond the others. Because Gottwald is intolerable, and Davidson immovable, the Colonel appears to be the only candidate I can consider to help support."

"From there, the rationale behind my announcements should be clear. He is a man who needs allies that aren't afraid to take stands on the same grounds, which I hope to have shown last night."

"Your feelings on the Crown? All good, I hope," a man's rich baritone asks pleasantly. He steps through the same doors Kallen had just used earlier, blonde, tall and confident.

"This is patently illegal," Alicia is saying. "Once again, I must protest--"

He isn't listening to her, taken with observing Kallen instead.

Kallen can almost feel the metaphorical CLANG as she is disarmed of her composure. Dimly, she can hear the sound of breaking glass as the sword flies through her wall and plummets towards the ground below.

Her hand presses into the table. "Your highness," she remarks, turning the chair to face Clovis.

"I realize this is somewhat irregular," Clovis says, making an effort to look genuinely contrite. He succeeds for the most part, except for his eyes, which twinkle mischievously. "Still, royalty has its perks, I've found."

Striding towards Kallen, Clovis stops just a few short feet away, extending his hand. "Clovis la Britannia, at your service."

Kallen finds herself standing up and reaching out to shake his hand. "Kallen Statdfeld, and the pleasure is all mine," she replies, imaging her hands reaching up to encircle Clovis' throat. "It seems you have me at a significant advantage."
This doesn't have to end badly, she realises, inwardly kicking herself. Clovis is a man like anyone else, and that means he can fall victim to her! It's not a time for subtlety.

She focuses intently on his eyes, intending to have a perfect picture of his mindset.

He brings her hand to his lips, brushing them gently over the surface. Only then do his eyes reach out for Kallen's, and Kallen is a creature of many passions.

"It appears to me that we could achieve much together," Clovis is saying.

Standing up is difficult. Kallen's knees are shaking, just barely able to avoid knocking into one another. And how could she, when she wants this gorgeous man?

"I was touched by your appeal," he continues genuinely.

Compassion. So much of it that she has to bury it all behind a sealed door, or it will bring her ruin.

"There is a time for action, and the need for it is great."

Kallen understands it, just as she understands art. The tragic sacrifices of the faceless many always tug on her heartstrings, achingly beautiful.

He makes a displeased sound, though his smile assures Kallen she is not its cause. "My advisors," Clovis says, "they argue incessantly, but they united in the need to censure your speech. That drew me to you, and for that, I am glad."

And so is Kallen, excitement bubbling as it rushes through her body!

<--->

[Corwin]

<--->

"Ah, your highness, I'm flattered," asks Kallen, unable to stop herself from bursting into a full, honest smile. As a tide of desire and excitement rolls over her, she finds herself reaching up to brush back a stray lock of loosely-hanging red hair-

-concentrate-

-and holding her other arm under her chest, which rises and falls with each breath she takes- it suddenly seems harder to do such a simple thing-

-concentrate, dammit!

"I see that I've succeeded beyond my wildest imaginings, if that is what has brought you here," she adds-

-Get it together, girl!-

"You've heard of my program," Clovis is saying, speaking airily as if about the weather. Her focus lets Kallen see past the casualness, and past what lies beneath, to get a feel that Clovis likes to downplay what he lays claim to as his achievements to draw stronger praise for them. "It has garnered moderate success, yet many of my advisors are slow to realize that. What is needed, here, is for keen minds to seize the moment and turn that modest stream of applicants into a vibrant river! What else can better prove its superiority in how our empire approaches its Areas?"

"If I might say so, your Highness," replies Kallen, finding herself not quite wanting to sit back down, not when she can stay up close and personal to the prince like this- "It would seem that your advisors remain behind the times. Without some clear path to advancement, it is obvious that the numbers would grow restless and discontent. It is only a matter of time, I am certain!"

She has to get her advisors out of the room, she realises intuitively. Then it would be trivial to.. to.. to what?

She wants him, and she wants him dead.

"That seems doubtful," Clovis says. He shakes his head, his locks traveling gently, as if carried by a breeze. "When an Area becomes unruly, the Empire introduces suppressive measures. Every time, without exception. The smarter of the Numbers realize this and know just how far they can push, while thost obstinate would hardly be satisfied with anything less than their fevered demands. Advancement -- and towards what, some might ask -- is a matter occupying only a precious few. Too few, alas, to truly make a difference. Yet you are correct. You understand that there must be an appeal to the Elevens of this Area to join forces with Britannia. It must be a thing of value, a prospect so lucrative they would move heaven and earth to seize it."

"Thus the scheme for Honorary Brittanianship," replies Kallen, finding that even when she stops consciously trying to use the Geass, something remains- it just doesn't fade away, not entirely. How can it, after she peeked into Clovis' soul and came to know him?

"Yet at the moment, I believe the scheme cannot truly succeed. The number is offered the life of a soldier- not entirely pleasant even at the best of times. And to contemplate it would be seen as unthinkable by most..."

"By proving themselves with their contribution to Britannia and shaping themselves into honorary citizens, the rest of the comforts of modern society eventually follow," Clovis counters, smiling at his captive audience. "After all, which loyal citizen can begrudge those comforts to those who have fought to protect and safeguard them?"

Kallen finds herself still unable to remove her reciprocal smile.

"It was my intent to foster this concept, at least in the long term..." she replies, pausing for a moment. "After speaking with Abrahms, I realised it would be the only way. Both for the elevens to see the appeal of the system, and for Britannians to accept it."

She needs to use him. Use him now. Kill him later. It's a shame he's a prince. But there's no way she would settle for the farce that is fake citizenship. Even if he's a good man, it doesn't matter.

"Shall we discuss how we can work together, in order to promote the scheme?" she asks, trying to sound more cool and clinical than she does breathless. "Privately, perhaps?"

It was probably her looks that got him here more than anything, she tells herself. No sense not exploiting them.

"Privately?" The blonde prince rubs his chin, a thoughtful look upon his face. "Yes. Yes, quite. Perhaps we should. It is regretful that this cannot be today, however. I merely came to meet such a promising young talent."

He considers this further, gazing upon Kallen. "Once you have formalized your idea into a written proposal, do contact my personal attendant, Delores Berkley. She will arrange a pass for you to present it for perusal and debate in a more amenable setting."

"I see," replies Kallen, barely able to wait. There is a cloying sense of anticipation in the air, one she is sure both he and she share- no, she can make sure. She can make him think about her, wonder when she's going to come, wish she was there now...

It's so easy, she finds. She barely needs to push at all.

"Then you are not staying long?" she asks, allowing herself to be seated once again.

"Alas, no," Clovis says, true regret felt in his voice. "I wanted you to stay strong in the face of censure and hold on until such time our way will win over the skeptics."

Alicia shifts at those words, but has learned from her previous attempt, and does not attempt to speak.

"I see. What exactly should I be prepared for in the coming weeks?" asks Kallen, still feeling as though she's floating.

"Oh, not that much, when it comes down to it," Clovis responds, gesturing dismissively. "A financial review, an entirely petty affair, in all truth. I am confident that your books are up to par, and it is but a minor inconvenience. Interviews with the board and several employes in key positions, also quite manageable, when you get right down to it. There is also the matter of literal censure. Hi-TV will be ensuring your compliance in that sense, a truly deplorable restriction that I wish it were easy to veto." Clovis scoffs, the expression perfectly aristocratic. "Let them have their little victories, however. In the end, it is our path that shall bear fruit, is it not?"

Any feelings of floating on air are rapidly forgotten, leaving the smile on Kallen's face seeming a little flat. Just how much money went into the entirely top-secret Holy Grail project? How much did she launder and send over to fund her cell? How much time will she need to spend at the bank, making slaves out of accountants to cover her trail?

There goes her happy school life for the next month... though she counts herself fortuntate that she hadn't taken steps to begin her other project just yet.

"The message shall resound, nonetheless," she replies. "Censorship or otherwise. This is the cost, I suppose, of attempting to blaze a new trail. In the end, though, the naysayers are the ones who are left behind."

"Quite so," Clovis states, straightening up. He cuts an impressive figure like that, perhaps even imposing. That air of having power and position and being aware of it, basking in them... he has it all in spades.

The prince casts a longing look at Kallen, before catching himself. "Until we meet again," he says in parting, offering the redhead a courtly bow.

Kallen stares after Clovis for a moment, before righting her chair back to face the desk. She is silent for a long moment- seconds stretch out to almost a minute.

"Next time I am embarrasing myself in front of royalty, please, feel free to at least cough," she remarks, smoothing her features and appearing to possess an impassive mask- far different from the girlish face she put on before Clovis.

"We will be reconvening on Wednesday. I believe you are all free then. As appears quite clear, we have a great deal of work to do. I will be speaking with each and every one of you over the course of this week, as well. Harold-" She grimaces- "Will find suitable times to make appointments. We must be spotless."

She pauses. "What will this censorship mean for us?" she asks, glancing at Samuel and Alicia. "Will this be a public spectacle? Or a quiet, offside issue, where this television station will simply not deal with us until it is lifted?"

Michael coughs, grinning when he draws glances towards him.

"A-As a matter of fact," Samuel says, ignoring his colleague to respond to Kallen's query, "the usual modus operandi is to assign a minder that would... filter, for lack of a better word, any and all public announcement and appearances."

Alicia, for her part, says, "I believe a private setting would be best to discuss matters." She draws several raised eyebrows, but sounds direct and not mocking in the slightest.

"I assume that goes for everyone," replies Kallen. "Then we will adjourn for now. You're all smart people. You don't need me to tell you how to cover yourselves." Her eyebrow twitches with irritation.

<--->

[Corwin]

<--->

After the meeting was completed, Kallen instructed a few members of her board to come and see her later in the day. She doesn't bother getting changed, leaving her sitting behind her enormous desk still in uniform, though while nobody else is around to critique her she dropped the jacket and the tie.

Alicia should be in any minute, and she arranged to speak with Michael later that evening...

There is a knock, and without waiting for an answer, the blonde steps inside. She takes care to lock the door behind her, and makes her way to the chair set in front of Kallen's desk for her visitors.

"Seems we're gonna be taking on the good and the bad," notes Kallen, closing her laptop. "When exactly did you all become aware that Clovis wanted to see me?"

"Shortly before you arrived," Alicia responds, settling down. "We knew of the censure since morning, of course, but this... this changes a lot. Not everything, but just about."

"What are the legal implications? I'll be talking to West about the censureship later, but let's hear your view on the situation."
censorship, blah

"Officially, none. It is rather self-defeating for the Empire to give us a stage to air our grievances by acknowledging them, so it's business as usual, in a sense. Unofficially, this would be known to our competitors and to the legal establishment. The former might decide it time to take action, and the latter might consider playing it safe and siding with the Administration's apparent position."

"A position that would soon be overturned by any sign of public support between ourselves and the crown," replies Kallen. "Except that Clovis' own position is weak... He needs allies, too. I guess that's why he was here.

"So what are we looking at? Lawsuits over petty matters? Takeover bids?"

"Nothing you need to trouble yourself with," Alicia responds rather curtly. "What we should be doing is considering ways to keep you and, by extension, the Group safe."

"What, personally?"

"Quite. The secret of your birth must never be discovered by the Administration's dogs. Not in a situation such as this."

It was an outcome she had considered, and must always be aware of, Kallen reminds herself. But even that meant disaster for her company and personal life- and Kasumi... it could still have been used in the ghettos in an effort to rally support.

"I have complete trust in everyone who is aware of my birth," replies Kallen. "I know the falsifications are not infallible... and of at least one hole. It's not one I think any investigator would find, but it exists nonetheless."

"Are you willing to put your trust into everyone who knows? And into the methods used to cover any irregularities in the records?" Alicia insists on asking once more. Her voice is calm, collected. "You must realize that above anything else, even a single misstep would end up costing us everything."

"Whatever it takes. You handle the legal side. I'll worry about the personal angle." Kallen frowns.

"My statement is presupposed in that I'm aware of everyone who knows, which is a very short list. If there's anyone else, perhaps in the census bureau, or forgers..."

Alicia shakes her head. "None who would benefit from talking." She lets out a sigh. "I wish I could pursue this further, just in case, but I'll be kept busy as it is for the coming months."

"I do appreciate it," replies Kallen. "I need to figure out a way to utilize this opportunity Clovis has given us... but I don't see much future in working directly with him. No, he's already lost too much of the people's faith. He's not going to last forever... that's just how Britannia works, correct? The weak perish, the strong survive..."

He needs to go out like a martyr, Kallen reasons. You get promoted two ranks when you die, it's like that. If he dies while doing something noble- no, because he's doing something noble, to which she is attached...

"It will be a race," Alicia affirms. "A race to get as close to the top as one can. And we've just been granted a surprisingly advanced starting position. I'm glad you understand this."

"Of course. You understand it too, right? That anything is permissable, as long as it gets results, and at least in private, nothing is taboo?"

"Once more, I am relieved to hear you say that."

Retrieving her datapad, Alicia proceeds to outline the direction she intends to take the Stadtfeld Group's legal defense team. She does not go into detail, and Kallen gets the distinct feeling that formality aside, Alicia is only doing this so that Kallen is not blindsided later on. Several names get dropped, for such a case if Alicia herself is unavailable, though it goes unsaid that there is only so much trust one can place into a follower, as opposed to a leader.

Once her report has been concluded, Alicia stands up. "Will there be anything else?" she asks, businesslike.

"Ah, there was. Do you happen to know much about the Hallbrook Conglomerate?"

Alicia pauses. "Hallbrook? Let's see. Ran by Count Richard Hallbrook, the realestate mogul. It is widely-accepted that his eldest son, Raymond Hallbrook, would one day succeed him, although much of this is speculation. There was some sort of matter with his wife, a few years back, but I am not clear on the details. Would you like me to prepare a brief?"

"Yes, please. I happened to speak with Raymond yesterday," replies Kallen. "I'm also on good terms with his.. stepsister. It's likely I can arrange a meeting with him later without being snubbed, as I feel other firms may well do in the current situation. Depending on what we work out with Clovis, their support could be most useful."

"It may be a good match," Alicia says with cautious approval. "Very well, I'll work on that."

"Great. I'll be in every day, most likely. Keep me posted."

<--->

Hisui is waiting for Kallen by the gate as she returns home from work. As Kallen approaches, Hisui bows in greeting.

Kallen barely has a word for anyone at the moment, but she nods at Hisui as she walks towards her door.

"Welcome back, Miss," Hisui says quietly, putting on a burst of speed to open the door for Kallen. "You have a guest today."

"Ah, good. Show me to him, please?"

Hisui nods and hurries off to stay ahead of Kallen's brisk pace. This time, she leads Kallen to a tea room on the ground floor.

"He is waiting for you here, Miss," Hisui announces with another bow.

Kallen has caught a familiar face on her way over, however. She has met with Shinozaki Sayoko enough to recognize her at even a fleeting glance.

Of course. There are so many maids that one more would barely be noticed. She doesn't need even half those she has, but in these tough economic times, where else would they go?

Kallen pushes the door to the tea room nonetheless, resigning herself to knowing that Sayoko will overhear just about everything she has to say.

"Welcome home," Michael Boon greets her, raising his cup towards Kallen.

"Thanks," replies Kallen, closing the door behind her and dropping onto a comfortable-looking armchair. "You found this afternoon entertaining, I gather?"

"Quite. Haven't you?"

"Surprising, yes. Promising, certainly. Humorous, not really," replies Kallen, exhaling.

"That is because information exists which you have not yet been made aware of," Michael says with great relish, sipping his tea.

"I can see you're just dying to tell me."

"Hi-TV were made to choose their best man for the job of following us around and restraining our actions," Michael elaborates, not dragging it out. "However, there must have been a miscommunication of intent somewhere down the line; that is the only way I can explain the end result. The producer in question has, in fact, been responsible for some of the most imaginative propaganda in recent times for this Area, but his alignment with the establishment is in serious doubt. He is independant and glory-seeking, a fact his superiors must not be aware of or downplay to retain his talent." He grins. "In other words, by trying to deal us this mortal blow, the Administration has only handed us an opportunity."

Kallen blinks, and her lips crinkle into a smirk. "Ah, you know, today started out horrible," she remarks. "And then it just keeps getting better. What's the name of this luminary?"

"Diethard Ried." A matching smirk graces Michael's lips. "Incidentally, he is the one in charge of preparing obituaries for dignitaries. Perhaps you have seen his work before?"

Kallen finds herself unable to keep it in, and snickers loudly. "Are- are you serious?" she asks, pressing a hand to her mouth. "This isn't a joke, right? That's beyond hilarious. Does West know, yet?"

"Some. You will forgive me, but I wished our reactions to the censure to be genuine."

"Yeah, that's fine. I need to meet with this guy," replies Kallen, straightening herself. "Do you hear about much that goes on with Clovis' advisors?"

"He will be showing his face soon enough," Michael agrees. "It is his job to be looking over our shoulder, after all." He smirks again, before getting to Kallen's question. "We have certain information that may well be useful. Not now, when they are so united, but later down the line as old disagreements spark once more. If fragmented, as is their usual state, we could easily play some against others."

"It's just a matter of time," agrees Kallen. "I'm curious, actually. How closely are their fates tied to Clovis'?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm asking if they are invested in his personal success. For instance, if Clovis was forced to abdicate, what would happen to his cabinet? Would they remain for the next governor-general, or would his failure reflect down the ranks?"

Michael seems taken aback by the question, but recovers swiftly.

"The new governor has absolute authority, in such a case. The various aides and advisors will remain in service, but how much the advice of those who were part of such a resounding failure would be counted is another matter. They may well be summarily dismissed in disgrace."

"Right. It seemed to me that they were putting him under significant pressure, so I was wondering just how much power the rest of the office holds," replies Kallen. "The appointment of this Ried may not actually be a coincidence, if we can take the Prince on faith."

Michael shrugs. "That is not for me to speculate. Besides, you may end up discovering that soon enough on your own."

"Quite," replies Kallen, tapping the side of her chair. "Well, I have something I'd like you to do, in the meantime. I do recall a warning that we would be compared to the Six, earlier. I'd like to know how they're reacting to this- if they're reacting at all. It's highly likely that if the Honorary Britannian schemes gain weight, they will wish to put themselves on board and leech off the success. Let's stay a step ahead.

"Alicia's also informed me that our competitors may be looking to work against us for the moment. I'd like to be prepared, and not just in a legal sense. Put a brief together on what dirt you've got on our biggest rivals and get it to me sometime this week."

"I could do that, but I would advise against moving against them in any way at this point," Michael says, seeming to commit Kallen's request to memory. "As for the Six, we simply don't know enough. They may wish to distance themselves due to the chance of failure, or take credit as you have suggested, or even oppose us to retain their own consolidated power rather than open the same opportunities to others."

"Yes, there are numerous possibilities," replies Kallen. "Keep an eye on them."

"For the rest, well. At the moment the plan is simply to weather the storm, and then use Clovis- and Ried, now- to put ourselves back in the game by way of mutual endorsement," replies Kallen. "If anyone has taken action against us before that, we won't forget. And we'll make them wish they never thought of screwing with us once the situation is stable."

"Yes, yes. Very impressive fighting words." Michael finishes his tea. "It is not my place to say, but just the same, look suitably contrite for the near future? Even home, unless you implicitely trust all your employees here not to report on any duality."

"I'll take that under consideration."

He shrugs, placing his cup down. "Excellent. For the things you wanted, to do a thorough job while evading showing anything out of the ordinary to those so-called auditors, I believe two weeks should be sufficient. Shall we meet again then?"

"Two weeks to the day? That will do," replies Kallen, pulling out her organizer and inputting the oncoming meeting.

<--->

After her business with Michael has been concluded, Kallen explores the mansion's ground floor. It is in a section of the house she rarely goes to that she spots Sayoko. The woman in question is not alone, however; Kallen chances upon her in an old reading room, together with Kasumi.

Kallen pauses near the door, and finds herself studying the two women a moment before making her presence known.

Sayoko says something, making Kallen's mother laugh.

Something just feels nice about the scene. If Sayoko can make Kasumi laugh, the maid has gone up yet again in Kallen's estimation.

Kallen walks into the room with a smile. "Hiyas," she says, falling into Japanese while it's just them. "Hope I'm not interrupting?..."

"Oh, hello!" Kasumi exclaims, startled. She quickly reorients, however, and smiles back at Kallen.

Sayoko offers a smile of her own and a nod of acknowledgement, remaining silent.

"I hope your days have been better than mine," says Kallen, wandering towards one of the many chairs in the reading room and leaning on one of the arms. She glances from side to side. "Did you two meet before?"

Kasumi tries to respond but ends up stammering, seeming embarrassed over something.

"Yes, actually," Sayoko says in her stead.

"How'd that happen?" asks Kallen, easing herself into the chair.

"We met on campus," Sayoko responds, adding for clarity, "of Ashford Academy, that is. It was a chance meeting in many ways, but we've discovered that we share several interests."

Kasumi nods at this point. "Sayoko-san is an amazing person," she says, and seems to want to add more before her embarrassment returns and she clams up.

"The faculty and council hold her in very high regard," adds Kallen, grinning. "When did you go down to campus? Uh, not that I mean to be nosy or anything," she adds, her eyes sliding away, as if to say 'blatant lies here'.

For some reason, Kasumi's embarrassment visibly grows at this.

"I hope you do not mind us using this mansion to meet," Sayoko interjects. "We try to stay out of the way, just the same."

"That's fine, it's not like anyone uses most of the rooms," replies Kallen, glancing around the one they find themselves in. "It's nice to have guests. Are you staying long tonight?"

"Are you staying?" Kasumi echoes, her face falling when Sayoko immediately shakes her head.

"There is an important friend that I need to look after later today, Kasumi-san," the maid says. "You know how I don't like to leave her for long."

"Ah, that one--"

Sayoko nods. "The same."

"You can come by again whenever you like," adds Kallen, feeling like she wants to scrunch up in her chair. "Is your friend doing well?"

Sayoko's face falls somewhat. "She has hope," she responds vaguely.

Kasumi nods sympathetically. "Did you try telling her the legend of the thousand cranes?"

"It helped," Sayoko affirms. "I think it had, at least. But some wishes cannot be fulfilled, no matter how you persist."

Kallen blinks. "That's the origami one, right?"

"Yes," Sayoko responds.

Kasumi picks up the tale, elaborating, "There is an ancient legend that if you fold a thousand cranes, the wish that you kept in your heart while folding them will come true."

"Yeah, I remember that one from somewhere. I managed to get to about... ten," she replies, smirking at herself. "Used to wonder if it would have come true if I'd actually gone through with it. It really bugged me for a while."

"There have been cases of... of miracles. Like Itsukushima...."

Sayoko looks silently at Kasumi for a moment, before nodding slightly. "Perhaps. However, it would seem that the determination to bring about a miracle is what creates them. A strong will to overcome any obstacle. At the same time, however, there are obstacles beyond the reach of mortals."

"A miracle stops being a miracle once someone achieves it," replies Kallen. "If people keep calling it one, it's just because they didn't figure it out. The kind of person who doesn't believe in miracles is the kind of person who'll make them happen."

Sayoko smiles once more at Kallen's words, wistfully this time. "Few people deserve it more."

Standing up, she takes Kasumi's hand. "I better go now, but I'll call you later?" Receiving a nod in response, she bows to Kallen. "In this case, I shall bid you a good evening."

<--->

[Corwin]

<--->

Kallen catches up to Sayoko in a few moments and begins pacing alongside her down the hall, towards the front door.

"I can't easily leave the settlement for a while," she explains, after quickly making sure no other maids are about. "Please let Inoue know. It is very likely I'm being investigated at the moment." She pauses. "Has there been any word from Milly, yet?"

"Not as yet," Sayoko responds, not missing a step in her stride. "We should have faith in Miss Ashford, however."

Kallen nods. "If you have more information on Purist bases or depots, please give it to Inoue as well- I will need to push our plans for Clovis back a bit, and in the interim there should be no complaints with further raids on that faction."

"What reason should I give for this temporary withdrawal?" Sayoko asks.

"He has granted me a private audience later this month, at my own discretion," replies Kallen. "It seems he has few allies in court at present, and sees one in me."

Was that a snort? Kallen can't see any signs of amusement on Sayoko's face when she looks, however.

"Anyway, I need to figure how to use this, so concentrate on the Purists for now."

"Miss Nunnally would be terribly disappointed," Sayoko notes.

"I seem to be rather good at that," mutters Kallen. "I won't make any excuses, though."

"I can't imagine one that would make a difference," Sayoko agrees. "Would you like me to pass anything else on?"

"Yeah. Tell Nagata to make contact with the charities," replies Kallen. "Get to know the people working on the ground. Forge a working relationship. Make some friends. You know."

"It shouldn't be a problem," Sayoko assures her.

Kallen nods. "One last thing. Do your networks reach inside the firms held by the Six?"

"A proper maid never reveals her secrets," Sayoko says, smiling slightly. "Is there anything in particular you're interested in?"

"I want to know how they plan to move in the immediate future, and if the heads are united or divided. Would they be likely to support my firm's public efforts? Or distance themselves?" replies Kallen.

"A complicated question not easily answered, I'm afraid."

"I need some way to gauge them," replies Kallen. "Honestly, I think they're all sycophants who'll try and go with the popular flow, so if nothing appears to contradict me there..."

"I'll do what I can," Sayoko promises.

<--->