✨ XIMILIA TOWN HALL MEETING ✨ ( video/audio/action )

[farr]

[ some morning in the middle of the week, during their return to the station, an invitation will be taped on the door of every orber. though the calligraphy would suggest this must have been typed on a computer and printer, each invitation is actually very carefully hand-written and reads as follows: ]

[ the idea is for everyone to meet in the mess hall at the intended time, but if some choose not to attend, the meeting can still be accessed by the earpieces, allowing all orbers to watch or listen in and contribute however they wish, no matter where they are.

however, for those who do decide to attend, the mess hall features a full display of bagels and donuts, along with plenty of fresh coffee, all to help everyone wake up and feel refreshed for the meeting that's about to take place.

a makeshift little stage, arranged by stacking together a few metal boxes is at the center of the room, atop of it being the one and only rita farr herself, with a bright optimistic smile. when she sees enough people present and settled, she speaks up, loud and clear: ]

Hello, everyone! Welcome to our first Annual — or monthly, or however we decide to do it — Town Hall meeting! Thank you all for coming and please enjoy the food to your heart's content. For those who don't know me, I'm Rita Farr. Now— though my name does appear on the invitation, this is hardly about me. This is about all of us.

After our ... last mission, it became quite clear that our group could use a bit of improvement with how we approach our next missions moving forward. And I thought the best way to plan for that is to allow all of us an opportunity to discuss how we all feel about what we've done well and what we could do better. After all, everyone deserves a say in this, right?

[ she points behind her where a giant board is on display on an easel, once again, hand-written with careful and precise calligraphy in giant letters: ]


Here, I've written some sample questions we can all try to offer answers to, but the floor will also be open for any other questions and suggestions that anyone might have. Remember, there are no wrong answers! We're all here for an open forum discussion. But before that!

[ she reaches over to the board, pulling it off to reveal another one behind it. this one reads as follows: ]


Please consider the "Keys to Success", not only on our missions, but as we talk together in this room right now. We'll go ahead and take turns either stepping up here on the stage or speaking out from wherever you are. There are no microphones but the earpieces should get your voices out to everyone. Now, who would like to start?


( this post is open to all! the idea is that everyone is taking turns in each thread to speak out to the entire group (whether from within the room or from elsewhere), but thread-jacking and hopping around for discussion is the key here! feel free to run wild with ic suggestions or questions regarding mission layouts or planning or whatever floats your boat (ic complaining/protest is always an option too). though rita is organizing it, it's open to whatever people are inclined to discuss. )

Comments

[cruelyethuman]

[The network is good for that; a way to make your voice heard and to ignore anyone who might hold a different point of view. He would have used it himself, if a certain someone didn't seem determined to undermine his every attempt to make sense of this senselessness.

But Yennefer joins him, and he looks down, eyebrow raised, pulled out of his own internal musings about the lack of coherency of the group.]

Too many cooks- [He whispers back, low and deep and for her ears only] Too many generals and not enough soldiers, with no regard to who might be better off listening than trying to lead.

[choicely]

Too many self-perceived generals.

[ She feels the need to make the slightest amendment to that statement — because while there are some who believe they are either the best possible choice or simply well-suited to lead, the reality is that there is a much fewer number that exists among them.

Of course, Yennefer is hardly going to position herself as a voice of authority — not because she doesn't believe she possesses it, but because she doesn't have the patience to deal with the bureaucracy of navigating opinion, at least not after the aftermath of the mission they've had.

Instead, she maintains her glance on the other debating parties for a moment before her eyes swing up to the book in Kirigan's grasp. ] Taking notes?

[cruelyethuman]

[There it is again, that split-second of being seen, of his words being heard - loud and clear - evident in Yennefer's quiet voice and the sharp intelligence in her purple eyes.

The smile that twitches on the edge of his mouth is all for her.]

All generals are like it. It takes a certain type of person to lead an army through victory and through defeat.

[The tone of his voice leaving no doubt that he finds these self-perceived generals lacking.]

Yes.

[He doesn't explain any further, about the notes that are not about the meeting, but about the people in it. The need to keep his observations in writing for the days and months and perhaps years to come, to remember who argued for peace and who were willing to do what needed to be done.]

Have you tried the donuts? They are delicious.

[choicely]

Those who are only interested in their own opinions seem more primed for defeat than victory. Then again, a leader too willing to capitulate to everyone will never gain significant ground.

[ It's about the balance, anyway, between diplomacy and dictatorship; she has seen too many kings fall prey to their own misguided perspective, unwilling to even entertain the word of their most trusted advisors, only to reap the consequences. Similarly, she has seen others paralyzed by indecision, refusing to make a definitive move until it becomes too late to do anything significant — and therefore leaving themselves open for stronger kingdoms to conquer.

She doesn't inquire along further lines when he doesn't elaborate on the contents of his note-taking; she has the strong impression that he's keeping record for some purpose yet to be confirmed. ]

I've never had one. [ Nor so much as ever heard the name before. ] They're something... baked?

[cruelyethuman]

Ah- that should be true, but like all wishes, it's a load of rubbish.

[The tzar.

A long, endless line of them. Unimportant except for the unbroken line of succession that allowed them to hold all the power in Ravka. Allowed them to run it in to the ground to keep the wine flowing, to keep the palace coffers gilded.]

At least in my world. The most powerful men are the least deserving of the honor.

[Anyone who seeks power at the expense of their people, deserves little.]

Here, try one. [A donut he hasn't bitten in to yet, the unbroken ring of fried dough and the slick look of chocolate on top of it.] They might be baked.

[choicely]

A constant across spheres, no doubt.

[ For she had served as the mage of an unworthy ruler for much too long, forced to endure mindless counsel from advisors who were as incompetent as their monarch; that's not even taking into account the kings of other domains, much poorer assignments for any sorcerer to be handed. She had narrowly dodged Nilfgaard in favor of Aedirn, but now, in hindsight, realizes she would have rather faced a dullard of a king for decades on end than a tyrant.

She's broken by her brief reverie of thought by what gets extended out between them, plucking the donut in question from his grasp and pinching it between her fingers with a skeptical look. ]

Your assertion is reassuring. [ Nevertheless, she lifts it to her mouth to take a slow bite from one end, inadvertently smudging chocolate on her lower lip in the process. ]

[cruelyethuman]

I have yet to see any evidence that contradicts it.

[Power corrupts, they say, without adding that this vile evil could run through bloodlines, infecting everyone until the world was set ablaze.

After this long of watching it play out, over and over again, new names and new faces in power and all of them rotting on the inside as they slay his people -

Hope was lost.]

Well. I didn't want to claim knowledge that I don't have. I don't know how they're made, but perhaps Rita does. She did make sure we had enough of them. [Eyes darting from hers and down to linger at her mouth, at the smear of chocolate on her lips.]

You have a little something- [gesturing at his own mouth] here.

[choicely]

Further incentive to lure us all into coming here, by bribing us with food. Even if the effectiveness of such a meeting is still yet to be determined.

[ Some of the orbers are in possession of disturbing amounts of optimism, or the notion that the varying perspectives that put them all at odds with one another can be surmounted if they lend enough time and intent to the aim of talking about it.

On the other hand, Yen has sat through — or more like endured — enough council meetings at the side of the king she once served to know that people are just as likely to talk themselves in circles as they are to come to a conclusion that satisfies all parties.

She glances up, not flushing or wincing at the sight of his gesturing, instead simply reaching up to swipe away the chocolate she's left behind with the pad of her thumb before licking that off quickly. ] And now? [ If there are any traces left, she wants to know about them. ]

[cruelyethuman]

She did that very well, I might add. The handwritten invitation, the lure of pastries and coffee... she knows how to catch attention.

[If it was going to change anything, was the next question.

A lot of them had been doing this for close to a year, and in regular human time, that was a lot. More than enough to set a pattern and stick to it, to ignore the silent voices and press onward.

To get the reward at the end.

But, miss Farr had done more than most to get everyone together in the same room.]

Perhaps this will help everyone. In the future.

[When the wounds were less raw and the betrayal less vivid.]

There's still just a little bit-- [His hand comes up, hovering in front of her face] May I?

[choicely]

You don't consider it a little excessive?

[ There's no real wrong answer, and even Yennefer isn't entirely certain what she thinks of the whole proceeding, but she also hasn't been here nearly as long as some of the other orbers have, not long enough to do more than barely let their own philosophies impact theirs.

She's also not seeing anything here that's going to directly influence her feelings on how they should approach each mission — and what their goal should ultimately be in terms of procuring each orb as they encounter it. Perhaps her longevity has influenced her philosophy, but Yennefer also hails from a world where others are more content to look out for themselves rather than come to any sort of assist with fellow man — to say nothing of the discord sowed against those who are different from them.

She glances up, half-lost in thought, and realizes he's extended a hand toward her, which prompts her to still, lifting her chin up slowly. It's all the form of permission he'll receive to touch her; if he needs more than that, the assent resides in her gaze, silent and watchful. ]

[cruelyethuman]

[A gentle hand. A big, flashy show. It is still manipulation, and Rita went with it like someone who wasn't new to this. To swaying the minds of people.

He could respect that, even if he saw through it.]

Not if it works. Which... seems doubtful, really. Minds are generally not changed by pointless theoretical discussions.

[Lipservice, to pretend to want information and only hear the ones who agree. Humans wanted to feel safe. Special. Valued.

None of that was in this meeting.

But what he hears is the distant whisper of 'show me' from last winter, Alina's reckless dare on the network and the ruin that followed. Snapping out of it, his eyes refocus on Yennefer, on the bright eyes and her tilted chin.

Slowly, his thumb brush against her lower lip in a soft sweep, catching the last of the chocolate smear on her mouth.]

There, all better.

[His hand hangs in the air between, caught between memories and the very real woman seated next to him. And look back towards the front, he licks the remnants from his finger.]

Smaller teams would be better than this.

[choicely]

The real ones can often be just as pointless.

[ How long had a decent contingent among them spent in debate over how best to go about securing the orb on their last mission? It had been time that could have been reallocated toward actually proceeding, but then on top of that, there had been weeks relinquished long after the fact to help those who, as it turned out, did not want their assistance at all.

Yen could have easily foreseen what would happen in the aftermath — there is little love held for anyone who is perceived as markedly different, and their entire group on the station is made up of starkly unique individuals. Eventually, gratitude would turn to skepticism, and skepticism to doubt, and doubt to outright hostility.

She'd only really made her presence known here to see whether any of this would bear fruit, but the resulting conversation in front of her is already proving to be more interesting than the rest of it.

She doesn't tense, lips pliant as his thumb runs over the lower, and quietly observes him licking the remaining chocolate off of the pad of that finger even while casting a cursory glance toward the front of the room. ] Even if there were those, smaller contingents who operated without oversight, and were willing to do whatever was necessary without asking for permission from the group at large beforehand.