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Aevum has two pseudo-districts. Erebus is the spine through which the infrastructure runs. It is a pipe of pipes, a cylinder filled with the sewers, electricals, internet and maintenance tunnels. It is the axel around which the O’Neil cylinder spins. Trans-district train lines spiral towards it and then back down to Aevum’s surface like carbon ribbons around a maypole, to take advantage of the microgravity. It is the systems of internal life support.

The other pseudo district is the Prime - it is the engine that turns the axle, the thrusters that navigate Aevum in its orbit around the sun, the shields against rock and radiation, the weapons that break up asteroids that would break the shields, and the solar panels that power the whole thing. It is the systems of external life support, accessed from the ‘top’, from the opposite end as Selene and the shipping airlocks.

The blueprints of Goat’s location put him in Erebus somewhere near the start of the Prime, above even Gaia and her farmlands, but still inside the station. The blueprints gave you a location in the maintenance tunnels down a warren of blind-turns and switch-backs. Not a place that’s impossible to stumble on without a map, just a place that it would be impossible to find twice. Still, you have that map.

You know what the funniest thing is, though? About where Goat is?

This part of Aevum looks just like the mainfares of Thrones, when you take the AR off.

According to the blueprints you’re looking at something the size of an industrial boiler room, with at least half a meter thick walls on every side, at least some of it running critical infrastructure. That’s a guess, because none of the internal dimensions are evident here - how many sub-rooms, how it’s partitioned, where Goat is specifically within. Still, it’s a start.

The area has total coverage with cameras, the same as any other part of Erebus. Their role as a security feature is an afterthought, though, to their role as just checking hundreds of kilometers of utility corridors for faults from a centralized location. With the right approach they’re more to your advantage than anything, they’d give you an opportunity to scout the location, going back for as long as there was stored footage. But that you already knew.

Goat’s in there somewhere. And if he’s actively being used for something, then this isn’t a vault you’re raiding, but a functioning server room. The need for accessibility always demands critical concessions from security, and that may be to your advantage as well, if you can work out some of the considerations needed here.

Because you planned for this, November.
November:

ProvocativelyFickle: Yessss!!!! +2 +2 +2 +2 +2
NeonCzolgoz: i mean
NeonCzolgoz: when you say it like that
NeonCzolgoz: i feel kind of owned lmao
JuntaSThompson: I am immune to this callout until 3V buys us groceries and then I will be a part of the solution.
NumbToNothing: with one arm
JuntaSThompson: An electric can opener is on the shopping list
NumbToNothing: What about pull tab cans
JuntaSThompson: Electric can opener the bottom side.
NumbToNothing: oh shit huge brain
NeonCzolgoz: what about jars
JuntaSThompson: 3V can open jars
NeonCzolgoz: lmao can she though
JuntaSThompson: I’m typing grammatically one handed better than you do with two dipshit, you want to bring heat here?
NeonCzolgoz: i get it i get it im owned im owned

Seems like the mic drop obliterated the conversation beyond recovery, and people are retreating into tangents. Nice.
NeonCzolgoz: Good question.
JuntaSThompson: You're asking a room full of martyrs if they'd be martyrs
JuntaSThompson: The only suffering we can abide is our own
NumbToNothing: excuse you nobody deserves that
NumbToNothing: except me
ProvocativelyFickle: Why are all of you like this
Everyone:

Channel: Main
NeonCzolgoz: so i’ve just been like
NeonCzolgoz: reading the classics a bit
NumbToNothing: look at this dumb fuck reading
NumbToNothing: gay
NeonCzolgoz: dumber and gayer than you could possibly imagine
NeonCzolgoz: and I know what you can imagine so that’s really saying something
NumbToNothing: owo
NeonCzolgoz: anyway I was reading The Ones who Walk Away from Omelas by the woman who came up with the ‘lathe of heaven’ thing, LeGuin?
NeonCzolgoz: picture a perfect utopia. All the food’s amazing and people fuck in the streets whenever they want. Total equality, everyone’s happy, and everyone knows being happy rules
NeonCzolgoz: but at the middle of the city there’s a suffering kid
NeonCzolgoz: its got rashes from being soaked in its own shit for so long, all it knows is pain, it is the saddest possible kid you could imagine
NeonCzolgoz: and it’s locked up in a room forever, to suffer like that
NeonCzolgoz: because it needs to for the city to work
NeonCzolgoz: let’s say because of magic or some shit, how that’s true isn’t important, just that it is
NeonCzolgoz: and everyone on their eighteenth birthday learns about it
NeonCzolgoz: and most of them choose to stay in utopia, thinks it’s worth it
NeonCzolgoz: but some leave. Nobody knows what’s outside omelas, nobody knows what happens to the people who leave, just that none of ‘em come back.
NeonCzolgoz: so here’s my question
NeonCzolgoz: do you stay or leave Omelas
NumbToNothing: oh shit
NumbToNothing: leave I guess
NumbToNothing: or uh
NumbToNothing: maybe stay?
NumbToNothing: maybe if I’d been born there I’d leave
NumbToNothing: but like if you put me there now, and told me I had to come back to this shit
NumbToNothing: I don’t think I’d be able to walk you know
NeonCzolgoz: yeah I’m fucking staying
NeonCzolgoz: fwiw
NeonCzolgoz: that shit sucks but like
NeonCzolgoz: i know what I already live with, and I just get mad about it, but like
NeonCzolgoz: better one kid suffering for a reason then a generation of kids being brought up by miserable parents suffering for none
JuntaSThompson: I don’t know.
JuntaSThompson: It feels like that suffering for no reason is different than knowing someone’s suffering as a price?
JuntaSThompson: In saying that, then if you know you could have utopia if one kid suffers a lot, then all that suffering for the world being as it is becomes the reason instead
JuntaSThompson: Is it worth keeping the world as it is just to prevent the suffering of one kid
JuntaSThompson: I wouldn’t break Omelas
JuntaSThompson: Not sure that means I could live with knowing either
ProvocativelyFickle: I walk
JuntaSThompson: Yeah?
NeonCzolgoz: why’s that?
ProvocativelyFickle: Couldn’t say. I just would though.
JuntaSThompson: Fair enough, I guess.
November:

Brown:

He’s basically tripping over himself he’s talking so fast. “Money would be the easiest. But I don’t… have much right now. Liquid, anyway. I mean-” He glances at his prodigiously expensive apartment. “Yes, I am obviously wealthy. But that just means I still own everything the money was spent on. If you need connections, I can make introductions. If you need a zero-day exploit, I still have some good ones I’ve been saving for a rainy day. If you need a new identity, or a safe place to go, I can do that.” He catches up to himself, and then stumbles again. “Once. I can do anything once. Everything I saved for a rainy day that never came. Don’t tell me what you need - ask for what you want.”

Of course not. He has been scared for most of his life that you hate him.

There is nothing he would not give you if you asked. Because he wants to be asked more than he wants anything else.

White:

Fiona: But I’m not-
Fiona is typing

Fiona is typing
Fiona: Oh, right.
Fiona: Right
Fiona: Uh.
Fiona: I don’t
Fiona: I was not ready for how much the teacher/student thing was going to do this for me
Fiona: I can’t even joke
Fiona: So, thanks for teaching me something today
Fiona: I’m going to go die of embarrassment now
Brown:

5 Stars, adjusted-for-inflation equivalent of a $20 tip, comment: Astoundingly capable with home lighting and sound systems. He grins, but asks permission before posting it; "I'm assuming tonight's horror spectacular wasn't a one-off display of your AV club skills? It's an honest review, in my opinion." A wistfulness. "You know that's not all I could do. But this is all you trust me to do, yes?"

White:

Fiona: I don't know whether to be flattered or mortified at the insinuation I could still be in college
Fiona: The sheets will have to tell the tale
Fiona: I'll lay out the really white ones and we'll do a Rorschach with them
November:

Brown:


Singh reaches into one of his vest pockets for a granola bar and starts chewing on it. Thinking is calories. It must be one of his more common emergency pockets, he got it on the first try and the packing’s still smooth. “What was that Cold War general. Adam West? No, like that.” He snaps his fingers. “Oliver North, that’s the one. The Iran-something affair. Harder to remember, she used to always call it the MacFarlane affair, so that’s how I remember it. My money is it’s like that. Plausible deniability operation. So that means it’s probably-” he stares at a hand, holds up three fingers and counts them out. Narrows his eyes and counts them out again. Takes a shark-like bite of his granola bar in frustration. “I can’t find a motivation in the trail, here, a reason for doing it. I can’t think of one either, or imagine one. I still couldn’t guess. I don't even have names, just metadata and property rights.”

“You’re going to have to find Goat, and ask yourself.”

White:

Fiona: Well that’s why they get to be there, isn’t it
Fiona: The system plays the home field advantage. Everyone who gets power from it is going to be someone who isn’t a threat to power. And they only get to keep it as long as they don’t try to do anything real with it.
Fiona: You can’t even long-con it. My Dad’s a sincere true believer and he still gets rinsed every two years like clockwork, routine as college dorm bedsheets.
Fiona: I don’t think that’s human nature though.
Fiona: Or at least I hope it’s not
Fiona: Because if the problem isn’t the system causing human nature to be like this
Fiona: Then what’s the solution?
Fiona: Then again, sure, when your Dad thought “Out of the crooked timber of humanity nothing straight was ever built”, his solution was to make dragons
Fiona: That seemed to be pretty great, all things considered
Fiona: I’d be pretty devastated if you’d turned out straight, matter of fact
November:

Red:

“No, it doesn’t.” Singh spins in his chair. “But I’d be very, very disappointed if I did.” There’s a beep from his terminal and he shifts. “Hold on. I think-”

White:

Crystal is sending specialists at different price points, getting quotes. Her design work has seen her work with a lot of clients, and she has a long memory for people who exceed and fail her expectations. The time - money - quality triangle seems to hold very true in her opinion, and she’s proud to be part of the reason someone who meets all three is referred to as a unicorn.

She only sends recommendations for cheap and quality, and fast and quality. The former tend to be small business contractors, Etsy bodymodders. FUCKING SKELETOR would be a great example, actually - he’s usually all booked up and is distrustful of new clients. Persephone’s lucky to have what she has with him. If you want a very personalized service with someone in it for the love of the art, this is where you go. But it’ll be a process, most of these are going to be hobbyists doing a side-hustle, charging barely more than cost-of-materials for the love of the work, taking commissions because they couldn’t afford the materials otherwise.

The other option is the kind of professionals who do fashion for executive androids and cyborgs - though it's typically bordering on costume when they do it, in the way wedding dresses or those stunning avant garde ensembles for awards show nights are. Crystal has a few connections she can recommend, but it’ll be pricey. These are people and companies that have made their names and their output is consistent. They know what they’re worth, and that’s what they’ll charge. It’s the only way you’ll get exactly what you want in weeks, rather than months. But if you go that route, you’ll know it was worth every cent.

Even that would be cheaper than machining all this yourself. The money you save in labour is instead going into materials, machinery and failed drafts. Aevum’s got a few maker spaces and tools libraries, though, if you’re really invested in going that route. Hell, it might even be fun. Crystal doesn’t seem to take that option as seriously as you might, though.

Probably because if you did, she wouldn’t get her chance to make introductions. She stresses wanting to make introductions, and be there when you put in your commission, even for the more corporate and impersonal options she’s suggesting. She’s salivating to be a part of this self-exploration. Fiona wasn’t kidding.

Fiona, for her part, lets slip she grew up on Thrones. At least for her teen years. Dad got a job there when she was eleven, she moved back to Aevum on her eighteenth - as much as she loves him, he’s got to visit her for holidays. Apparently he's one of Thrones leading systems ethicists, which means he’s worked at a lot of the big companies and never for long. The first to be publicized and the first to be downsized. A lot of her conversations with him end up about how much he wasn’t allowed to talk about, that never would have mattered anyway.

He’s the world’s leading architect for skyscrapers built on sand.

Still, she’s far more interested in how it feels to meet up with yours. She already knows a surprising amount about Singh, so almost all her questions come down to how you feel about him. About this.

Red:

“Goat’s in Erebus.” Singh breathes. “A gray area between state and private property. I thought there’d be an extra step here, but Erebus is-” Pink might tell you that it in mythology Erebus is Night but it is also Hell, the first thing made from Chaos that life could inhabit. It is the spine and the spokes of the station, filled with its sewers and electricals and the oxygen lines. It is Aevum’s Underworld. “-Too well documented. A hole in the record would be like a gap in white noise. But this isn’t corporate, this is deep state.”

He gives a sideways glance. “Who’s the best to talk to about this? Black?”

3V and Euna:

Thank you for all your continued help during this downtime for me. You've been wonderful.
Red:

"I can't even imagine what that must be like." He seems immensely satisfied by this. His eyes flick again. "Oh. Uh. Hmm. Hold on." Did something go wrong? "No. But an answer doesn't have to be wrong for it to be bad." A few more lines. "So you don't have regrets? I guess that's the wrong question - so you don't act on regrets?"

November:

You know, you've got your time with Dad and then you can leave. Like, leave. Cross county lines so hard that showing it in mach speed requires scientific notation. Is there any temptation in that, for any of you?
Red:
"I don't plan." Singh corrects. "It just looks like I do because the same solutions keep working." He gestures at his pockets. "Sure, I'm prepared, but everything in here is from a time I thought... Damn, I wish I had that on me right now. Then I got it before I forgot about it. But it's just experience, reacting. Dealing with things as they happen. I used to say- It would make her so mad- I used to say that putting things back in their proper place was just being too lazy to look for things."

A beep. He checks the screen, sighs, clicks a single button, then turns from it again. "But I have no master plan. I'm not thinking of anything right now, really. Even this is something I've done before. Maybe I just identify with the part of Green that was best suited for dealing with cascading failure?"

That's what he thinks, anyway. About you and about himself.
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