Session 144: Special Delivery

Previously, Across the Horizon...
The Nanab Foundation has been a vexing foe for our brave adventurers.
Not because it is a foe that they cannot zap with lightning bolts or set on fire; they have faced many a foe like that before, threats ranging from Hades atop his throne of corpses to the noble and fearsome Count Osler.
The difficulty with the Nanab Foundation is that they have not quite sorted out where to zap and/or set on fire. Where will the smallest push create the largest pressure? Who is the weakest link of the chain? Who will swear a blood feud with Linnet this time?
All these answers (and more) await our brave adventurers...
**
"Not to be rude," lies Isara Marquez, "but do you have a plan yet?" She sits waist-deep in blueprints of her own design in the engine room of the Starfall, the site of the latest strategy meeting on account of Luca's assistance already being on the schedule.
"I'm not entirely certain we've even settled on a goal," Luca confesses.
"We have many excellent ideas with plan-like aspects to them," Yves says, "and our goal is to get Celeste into the foundation, or, failing that, burn it all down or cover it in scorpions or something, but in an ethical way. That bit's pretty, uh, fuzzy, actually, so we'd be best off if we just get her in." He is far more bright-eyed than someone who threw a drug party and supplied all its drugs ought to be.
"Some?" Bast shrugs. "Celeste wants in, some portion of the Board that's enough to send snippy messages on their stationery doesn't want her in. Sounds like at least two of the Board members have dirt we could use for leverage. Lake's leaving soon, not much to work with there but also might be easier to separate from the rest of them, what with not worrying about working with them anymore. And it sounds like Lynn might even be inclined to side with us if we let her in on this? For admitting Celeste, I mean, I don't figure she'd just step aside for her and we'd still need to convince the Board anyway. But as the current candidate, she's got a whole other angle on this from anything we could do."
"They get one candidate per slot, and last time they didn't accept anyone, so clearly they can get two candidates in this time," Yves says. "It's just math!" He frowns briefly. "Though trying to use math on academic politics has... I mean, I've tried, but it hasn't actually worked very well for me in the past, now that I put it that way, so, yeah, we're going to need to, uh, talk to people? Blackmail them, persuade them, that sort of thing. But we should definitely get Lynn on our side and not be terrible to her, for reasons of ethics and also because she seemed pretty great. Maybe if the Foundation thing doesn't work out she can join the crew."
"Plus," Luca points out, "if she doesn't want to sign on, we've got a kidnapping plan."
"Oh, yeah, nothing wrong with some harmless temporary kidnapping," Yves agrees. "I think I read that in a book once."
"Oh, Linnet came by earlier. There's some sort of disturbance happening with the actors." Isara's policy with the actors is that they are always someone else's problem. "She did write down the Board members and the overall rule structure for me to give to the captain." She tears a sheet off a pad of paper and glides it over to Bast's general position. "The margins have the tools I need to cut the god out of your engine. No rush, except the deaths of everyone you hold dear."
Yves leans in to try to see the paper. "...maybe, uh, maybe I should go get the god-detachment tools while other people start talking to people who need to be persuaded and/or blackmailed and/or kidnapped?"
One of the ceiling tiles slides away. Chmurka lowers her head out of it and scans the occupants of the room. Her eyes linger on Luca for a moment as the person she knows the least, but she presses on. "A letter came to the ship for Celeste."
Luca gives a cheerful little wave. "Who's the sender?"
Bast rubs his forehead, looking like he's in a moderate amount of pain. "...how literally are we cutting here, and could that ending up accidentally releasing her? Be nice if someone who threatened destruction for miles around last time we talked to them didn't just pop up in the middle of the ship."
"None listed," Chmurka replies to Luca.
"I'm not cutting her out now," Isara says with forced patience. "You wanted me to find a workaround. I'm finding a workaround. I need aetherial tools for it. I wrote them down on something important so you wouldn't forget."
"Oo, secret correspondence, it's... huh, I guess it's probably politics. Everything is politics right now." Yves has lost a little of the shine in his eyes the longer he spends contemplating academic politics in this meeting. Much less satisfying or direct than scorpion catapults. "Don't worry, Bast, I, hm, I think I recognize most of these tool names, enough that I can figure out where to start looking for them. I'm sure it'll be fine. The angry deity powering the ship hasn't murdered us all yet, so it'll probably be fine for a bit yet!"
"Sure, but I didn't figure you'd be taking the engine out of the ship and to a nice isolated drydock somewhere when the time comes, either. Anyway, that's for later." Bast looks up at Chmurka. "You have the letter?"
"More like Triad politics," Chmurka says. "Here you go." She hands down a beige eight-inch letter addressed to C. Meracydia in a flowing script. The weight in the letter is distributed unevenly; when Bast takes it, the weight is concentrated in the lowest point, but when he holds it flat in his hand the weight roughly evens out.
Yves eyes the letter, after what Chmurka said, and starts digging through his satchel for fire suppression options, just in case.
"...why does this thing act like there's something liquid inside it?" Bast frowns suspiciously at the letter sitting unopened on his palm.
Luca stands up. "There are no good liquids to put inside a letter."
"Oh, I can think of a few," Yves says, pulling out a bottle of sand to frown at it thoughtfully.
"Or really fine sand, maybe. Nothing usual either way. I'm going to open this on the dock, come along if you want to see what it does." Bast heads out to find some tongs and a knife he wouldn't mind losing.
Luca isn't about to miss out on this, and follows.
Isara looks longingly at the door, and then down at the acres of paper spread out on the floor. "If he dies, tell me about it," she asks Luca, and then gets back to work.
Yves is right behind Luca, bottle of sand (only somewhat fine) still ready just in case it needs sudden deployment.
It is an unseasonably warm day, so no actors loiter on the deck.
Yves lurks in the shade as best he can, being rather sun-absorbent with all the dark clothing and fur and so forth.
Luca has acquired a bottle on their way, and passes it to Yves as they both lean against a shady wall.
On the dock and properly equipped, Bast holds the letter flat on his palm again, testing how minute shifts in the angle move the weight around. Done with that, he sniffs at the seam - and, apparently satisfied with whatever he finds, he grabs it with the tongs and slides the knife through the flap to finally see what's going on here.
"Two to one says Bast doesn't even get singed," Yves murmurs to them, accepting the bottle for a swig before passing it back.
Nothing happens for the first ten seconds.
A humid breeze rustles the slit edge.
A fine gray powder swirls out of the cut to chase the wind. Four seconds after contact with the wind, each grain of the powder increases its size tenfold, grasping at the wind yet finding no purchase there. Thirty pounds of tiny ceramic plates, clinging to each other, crash onto the deck.
Luca lowers the bottle from their lips, staring. "Ok that's surprising."
"...well." Bast looks down at the plates. "That's new." He reaches down to try and pick up one of them.
"...never got that in my hate mail," Yves agrees, wide-eyed.
"Spelling error?" wonders Luca.
Bast has no trouble picking up one of the plates. He has no trouble picking up several of the plates, as they want to cling to each other magnetically. It is simple for him to separate them, though, and so can hold one of these fingernail-size plates in his hand.
Linnet emerges from the rehearsal space at a run, after the crash. "All right, who broke what?"
Yves reaches into his satchel, and digs out a thin extending... miniature pole? Stylus? Probably some sort of pointer for gesturing dramatically at figures during a presentation. He then leaves the shade to go poke some plates with his stick. "Oh, Bast just opened Celeste's mail. Look at these."
Bast turns the small plate over in his hand, wondering about the material and construction and the purpose of something like this, before finally remembering to check the envelope for an actual letter.
The collection of plates on the deck rattle an inch toward Linnet when she is a hundred feet away.
There is a letter inside the envelope. It reads, in a different and professional hand, "IT WILL HAPPEN AGAIN IF YOU STAY"
The plates do not react at all when Yves pokes them with a stick.
Linnet takes about fifteen seconds to stare at things with a raised eyebrow, then looks up at Bast. "It's an explosive? All right, which one of the board is a sodding terrorist and/or has one on their payroll?" "Stay there for a bit!" Bast yells to Linnet from the dock, then looks down at the plates again, vexed. "Somebody find me a box or a bucket, something that we can put a clear lid on."
"Unless it's the people who attacked Celeste before," Yves says idly, still poking a plate with his stick. Poke. Poke poke. Poke. ........poke.
Linnet hollers down the stairs, "Someone empty the reliquary and bring it up on deck, stat!"
The only reaction the plate gives is that it sticks to one of its brethren when Yves pokes it until they touch. It only takes a moderately stronger poke to separate them again; the magnetic force pulling them together is weak.
Thirty seconds later, Saray puffs up the stairs with a gaudy but translucent box, freshly emptied of its contents. Linnet takes it from her with a brief hug of thanks and slides it across the deck to Bast.
"Ever seen anything like this?" Bast inquires of Yves as he begins to gather the tiny plates and unceremoniously shove them into the box.
"Don't worry, the skeletal hand of St. Ruthven and the skull of York aren't going anywhere anytime soon."
Saray gives Linnet a Look. "Not if I have anything to do with it, anyway - MOGRATHEO SO HELP ME - " (She cuts herself off and runs back down the stairs.)
"Did anyone get much of a narrative on how the building exploded the first time?"
"Nope, nor read about them, not even in the weird theory journal that's all speculation. This is amazing. I wonder what else you could put in a single envelope and mail to someone?" Yves is enthralled by the tiny plates.
"Yves, if you're going to become a mad bomber as well as a mad chemist, wait until we're in international airspace, please." Linnet chews on her bottom lip. "Could someone-not-me go get Celeste?"
Finally done with packing all of them in, Bast closes the box and walks back onto the ship, keeping an eye on his new toys as he gets closer to Linnet.
"On it," Luca says, setting down the bottle and aiming back on board to track down the navigator.
"I wouldn't bomb anyone," Yves says, (metaphorically) wounded, "it would be an amazing saving on freight!"
The plates do not react to Linnet anymore inside the sealed box as Bast walks closer.
"While you're there, grab Shula," Linnet yells after Luca.
Luca gives a thumbs-up over their shoulder.
"The way I see it, we need to reconstruct the first bombing and figure out if that has anything to do with what we're staring at here. And Bast, why are you looking at me like that?"
"Could have sworn they tried to move towards you when you first came up. Nothing now, though. I wonder if it's a wind thing?"
Yves takes a few steps to the side. "Here, try opening the box again, and I'll stand in front of Linnet just in case."
"Hm. Well, we'll try it with me and with Celeste, then with Shula to see if it's just a wind sylph thing. Your contribution to science is greatly appreciated, Yves."
"If it hurts me horribly, I know you can fix me," Yves says cheerfully. "Science!"
Bast lifts the lid slightly, not waiting for Celeste to come around and introduce any additional complications in the examination of the weird magic tiles.
The plates try to move to Linnet, though the weak magnetism connecting their expanded size and Bast's firm hand on the lid prevent them from succeeding.
"That's very weird."
"Aw, they want to meet you," Yves says.
"Want to see if they do anything when you touch them?" Bast fishes a single tile out, keeping the rest corralled.
Linnet shrugs and takes the tile on the flat of her palm.
The tile all but glues itself to Linnet's palm, pressing into her skin. The pressure continues to build, not to the point of pain, but discomfort is not far off on the horizon.
"What in the...add another one?"
"Alright." Bast makes as if to toss another tile over to Linnet - then looks at how the first one is pressing in, and carefully hands it over instead.
Yves finally puts away the bottle of sand he's been absently holding all this time, and replaces that with a notebook and pen to start jotting down observations.
"It was this tiny place on the water in Phiro, they had these amazing little bites of food..." Luca is explaining some restaurant or another to Celeste, as they come down the dock.
The tile tries to leap over to Linnet, but its size prevents it from flying too far. Once it makes it to her palm, though, it connects with the other tile, two scales clinging to Linnet's skin. The pressure from each increases.
Linnet slides her other hand underneath for support. "Is Luca back with Celeste yet? She needs to see this."
"When we're there next, I'd love to check it out!" Celeste is always up for adventure. She then peers out at the officers as she approaches. "What do I need to see, exactly?"
"Long story short, Bast opened a letter addressed to you because he thought it had a bomb inside. Instead, it's full of weird tiles that are apparently trying to eat me, and we need more data to see if they think I'm you."
Celeste blinks.
Yves looks up from his notebook. "Oo, good explanation."
"No, it doesn't make sense, but we're rolling with it." Linnet's hand is definitely beginning to hurt now.
Bast hands the letter over to Celeste, one hand always on the lid of the box. "Don't suppose you know the handwriting?"
Celeste studies the handwriting in the letter and on the back of the envelope. "This, no," she says as she hands the letter back. The envelope she keeps and raises in her hand. "This is familiar, though. It feels like I saw it at the Foundation. I know they gave my office away, but I still have things in storage there."
"What about these?" Linnet nods at her hand.
Celeste shakes her head. "I've never seen anything like that before."
"Not your old admirer, then. Someone at the Foundation who really doesn't want you there?" Bast looks at Linnet. "Are they doing anything besides sticking to you?"
"Is it the sort of thing they'd stick in a box around there, do you think?" Yves sidles nearer to Linnet and her fun hand friends to observe more closely.
"They're sort of pressing into me. Like, a lot."
"Just a box of weird plates? No." Celeste glances at the envelope and then the box in Bast's hands. "Wait, how did they fit in the envelope?"
"Expanded on contact with air."
Luca glances at Linnet's hand. "And that's two of them....how many are there in total?"
"And what do you figure the whole set would do?"
"Well, one way to find out. Have a hammer at the ready in case you need to break me out." Linnet holds out her hand further.
"Maybe we could jump from two to, uh, a dozen? Not all? I mean, I love the science, but also would rather no one get scienced to death," Yves says.
"Linnet, I just want you to know that I appreciate your skills and what you do here, and if anyone ever puts you on scouting duty I will personally hang them up from the mast by the thumbs." Bast passes two more tiles over.
As before, the two tiles cling to Linnet in a group. As before, the pressure each individual tile exerts on her hand increases.
Linnet turns her hand over - with considerable effort - and nods for more to be placed on the back.
Yves takes vigorous, copious, delighted notes.
Bast eyes the deep impressions the tiles are leaving, and gives her two more. "Try these on the other hand?"
"No, I want to see how they work through flesh."
"Figured it'd be less literal if it goes bad that way, but it'll be your mess to fix." Bast shrugs and places them as requested.
"Celeste, it specifically said this would happen again if you stay. What happened before? What again?"
"Nothing happened before," Celeste says, watching the tiles dig into Linnet's hand. She pays special attention to how they press into the skin on the back of Linnet's hand, as if they might make it through to the tiles in her palm if many more are added. "Nothing like this. Does the letter just mean this will happen again if I stay? If this is just a threat they'll repeat? Or succeed at?"
"Can - oof - can you try a few of these? They seemed to gravitate to me, and my working theory is because I'm also a wind sylph."
"They don't care about me at all," Yves notes, with a touch of disappointment. The cool science never wants to murder him personally, does it.
Celeste extends her hand with zero hesitation. "Give," she says to Bast.
"This has to be the weirdest assassination attempt I've ever seen. I suppose it might not have been meant as one, but all of these hitting at once might not care much about that." As before, Bast limits what he passes to Celeste to just two tiles to start with.
The reaction on Celeste is the same as Linnet.
"Well, that tears it. Someone sent a racist fuckup of a spell here. Can we get Shula to make sure it's just wind sylphs?" Linnet normally tries to have a little decorum, but her hand is really hurting. Yves clears his throat delicately. "Maybe we should, uh, try, you know, taking some off, too? Before we put more on anyone?"
"I'm trying to see if they want to jump from one person to another. After that, yes." Linnet moves her beleaguered hand next to Celeste's.
"Shula said she was in the middle of something, will be along as soon as she's done, that sort of thing," Luca says, apologetic. They're watching the experiments with obvious apprehension.
There is no pull between sets of tiles. The ones pressing into Linnet are not drawn to Celeste, and vice versa.
"Then get Jasper. Or River. We've got a variety pack on board." Linnet pulls her hand back.
"Open casting," Luca says. "Got it."
"Okay, I can see how these things would crush you, but the execution is sloppy as all get-out, and the letter is still confusing. Celeste, did anyone you know disappear around the time of your first, uh, attempt? Who the fuck got murdered with these things and who sent them?"
"If anything like this happened before, it was such a misfire that I missed it. I really think someone sent this as a warning shot, saying they're going to kill me for sure if I stay here in Thalatte." Celeste starts trying to pull the scales off, but just succeeds in sticking one to her other hand.
"And did they somehow think they were sending a non-lethal dose of..." Linnet struggles for a word. "...implosives?"
"This letter came here to the Starfall?" After receiving a nod, she continues. "Maybe they assumed anyone around me would be able to save me and break these off. Or maybe it would kill me and that'd be fine by them. I'm sure as hell not leaving now, though."
"I wonder if this was pulled from the Nanab collection somewhere. Someone from the Foundation, handwriting that you know, hates your guts and knows you're back and wants you to stay away and has access to something like this? Anybody you know fit that picture, before we go looking?"
"Who on the board is in charge of dangerous sharding magitek? Or tinkering and inventing?"
"I can't believe the Foundation is holding on to cool things like this and not telling anyone," Yves says, faintly aggrieved. "I wonder if they have types for each sylph, or just these? Or if they have any for viera and moogles and such too?"
"Or failing that, who can we blame for this chocobo shite?" Linnet is good and pissed now. "Academic politics are one battlefield, but this is straight-up attempted murder and should be thrown right back in their damned face."
"Hey!" Luca's voice, distant, approaching. "Everyone's busy but I found one!" they continue, accompanied by the only sylph on board who agreed to go out for small plates.
"Who's afraid of me getting into the Foundation?" She scowls, but then softens her features. "I don't know. From what I've heard, Lynn Fairband is a nice girl. I don't know anyone else there that dislikes me. I don't remember anything like that happening before."
"Would it be worth you talking to Lynn and seeing if you two can work together on something? I know, long shot."
"They really should admit two people," Yves adds to Linnet's suggestion, "so it would only make sense."
"Not the hour I'd choose for hors d'oeuvres, but I am not one to turn down even experimental cuisine on this ship," Apoc says.
"...Luca. What." Regardless, Linnet is now in enough pain to be less than choosy. "Apoc, here, I need to borrow your hand. Hold still."
Yves brightens at the sight of Apoc, forgetting his resentment that no one ever tried to murder him with personally targeted mysterious science. "Oh, you'll like this, Apoc, it's a whole new type of assassination attempt, we think!"
"Yves, don't encourage him."
"We don't work together," Celeste says. Whether she means "any potential members" or "Lynn Fairband and I specifically" she does not wish to say.
Linnet clenches her teeth before she starts shouting at Celeste again.
"I'm not encouraging him to get assassinated," Yves protests, "I just think it's neat! The science, not the assassination attempt. I mean, the assassination attempt is pretty cool, aside from the assassination part. You know what I mean."
"I've never been enamored of Death by Chocolate, but again, broadening one's horizons." He holds out his hand. "I did not bring my own fork, mind."
"Is there an inventory for things like this?" Bast looks at Celeste, then down at the letter. "Wouldn't be fast, but if this was part of the collection, we might get a lead there. Handwriting's probably faster to track down, though." He pulls out two more tiles, slamming the lid down as several more try to escape, and passes them off to Apoc.
"Okay, so, failing that experiment, keep that box tightly sealed once we get these stupid things back in there, and please lose it in the darkest corner of the storage room. We'll need it to shove in a board member's face once we figure out who's got it out for you."
Apoc looks at the plates in his hand. He rolls them around each other. He tosses one up in the air and catches it in the same hand, listening to how they clack against each other. "I am not going to eat these."
"They wouldn't stick to me either," Yves says to Apoc. "They're very picky about who they try to kill."
"Krakenshite. All right, back into the box, everyone. Yves, help, please."
Yves puts away his notebook to assist with descaling Linnet. He's even got a small vial of vinegar in his satchel, if need be.
"I've heard ninety percent of what the Foundation has isn't on display," Celeste says to Bast. "I can get us into the warehouses, but we'll need to do that late at night if we're all going."
"A shame, that." Apoc helps Celeste get rid of her two. "I can think of none on this ship more worthy of a targeted strike than the legendary Thunderbun," he says with a grin. "The bards will sing of your power and prowess for an age. They are even now, though the ukulele surely will not survive revisions."
"No ukeleles in evening plans. Celeste, that sounds like an excellent idea. Apoc, thank you, now please return to your pre-interruption afternoon."
("It's not magnetism, it's sticking to wind sylphs, not iron, vinegar might help.")
Bast hums slowly as he takes the tiles back to their jail. "This seems personal. More than just the 'piss off and never return' letter to your sponsor, you know? If it's someone on the board, they probably have some reason of their own, not just their hall getting redecorated."
Yves also looks quietly delighted at Apoc's comment, though he's too busy trying to remove little bigoted plates to respond.
Linnet gasps when the pressure is relieved and tucks her hand into her sleeve, but not before you see two huge blood bruises. "I have so many questions, and about half of them are academic and the other half are outraged. With considerable overlap."
Celeste massages her hand. "We'll find out who's responsible, and then I'll deal with them," she says.
"We'll deal with them. Indivisibles, etc."
"Yes!" Yves agrees. "So we should probably split up for that, huh."
"I can see if the eager transfer student act can let me look around for as many handwriting samples as possible," Luca suggests.
"I'm sticking by you, Celeste, in case of any more poorly calibrated traps." Linnet's not quite back to hugs with Celeste, but she nods at her crewmate.
"And I can get us in for some closer examination." Bast's look down at the trapped tiles is openly hostile, and lingers for a second when he looks up. "Yves? Want to go dig around in their collection?"
Yves is made of delight. "Oh would I ever."
"I'll take Linnet with me to look through my belongings at the Foundation," Celeste says. "Luca, I'll try to stay out of your way so no one thinks you're with me and shuts you out as a result. But I'm glad you're going to be there, just in case something does happen. Bast, Yves, I'll draw you a map to the warehouses, and I've got a key to the main building at least. If you need more, you're probably fine to handle that on your own. By the morning, we should know what we're dealing with."
And with that... End session 144.