[center][color=9e0b0f][h2]8[/h2][/color][/center][sup][b]Morning[/b][/sup]
[sup][center][u]The Rookery, Lobby -> Fifth Floor[/u][/center][/sup]
[sup][right][Everyone][/right][/sup]
[hr]Mingling would have to wait, it seemed. Well, it was on them for arriving late in the first place, but that wasn't here nor there.

8's handler returned to her side as the mood of the room shifted, the building itself coming alive to stoke the flames of anxiety in those gathered, as if the architecture was in league with the Arch Bishop, which wasn't out of the question. Pequod led her up the stairs after their much adorned general, a hand at the small of her back as her head whipped around, trying to track the machinery in the walls by sound alone.

And so the meeting began in earnest; maps, video, briefing, everything one would expect out of secret police herding you into a war room. Pequod sat closest they could to the center, perhaps even bumping down by order of importance some of the other pairs that worked closer to the Church than they did. There was work to do, and they were there to do it. 8, by relation, was placed in a seat directly next to them, and every so often they had to reach out to stop her from snatching one of those plastic flags from the table - this wasn't a time for snacks.

Though in spite of their vested interest and rapt attention, Pequod's first reaction to everything was a loud sigh and a slump in their chair. [color=d8a530]"This stinks."[/color] They let the thought linger for a second, if only to let the next part land a bit harder: [color=d8a530]"This whole little play you have going on, I mean, General, sir."[/color]

Pequod raised a finger in the air and flicked it back and forth as they rattled off their next few points. [color=d8a530]"Middle of nowhere but video evidence that near perfectly captures the incident. #2 can move faster than anything on that battlefield but surrenders herself with no resistance once she's actively threatened. The [i]white horseman[/i] left himself open long enough to make that fact [i]stick[/i] when it would make more sense to fire once 2 stopped dead in her tracks, not like he wouldn't know he's holding an artifact."[/color] Pequod jammed the flat of their foot against the side of the table, still showing the blinding light that cut the video off. [color=d8a530]"I think even 8 would puke trying to swallow this horseshit."[/color]

8 glanced over at the mention of her name, and let out a small chuckle of agreement.

[color=d8a530]"See?"[/color] Pequod pushed off the table's edge and rocked forward to a standing position. Blasphemy and insubordination aside, this was just how their thought process worked, a walking Think Tank of one, not that it endeared them much to their superiors even now. [color=d8a530]"Best way to know why is to find the guy, so me and 8 will be on that half. Doubt these tribes are good enough to fake a corpse so 2 was killed, that much is obvious. Any information you got from her corpse?"[/color] They cleared their throat and tilted their head in a slight bow. [color=d8a530]"...Your Excellency?"[/color]