The Restoration Protocol

17 || pride of the angels

Even if Abe's 'credibility percentage' were a bit higher on Soleil's scale, Mariko soon learns that he wouldn't be granted the privilege of traveling with them regardless. The man has his own responsibilities, after all, his own agenda, scribbled down in a little pocket diary just like his fellow android does. And despite not understanding why, he seems just as intent on carrying out Claude Chevalier's wishes as Soleil, too.

Before bidding them farewell and good luck in their endeavors, Abe requests at the very least that he might have some way to communicate with the group, should something of vital significance arise on either of their ends — whether Soleil should have need of another unexpected reboot, or perhaps if Abe himself discovers something during his own journey that might prove useful. Dr. Chevalier's labs contain plenty of communication devices, he explains. No matter where they may be across the vast land of Paracosia, their signal should reach him. And vice versa.

"I don't blame any of you for your distrust of me," he had said to them, moments before Mariko's group left the lab. "A lack of memory must sound like a pitiful excuse for an android, huh? I wish I could be of more help to you all. I can only hope this trust that Dr. Chevalier has placed in me won't turn out to be a misplaced one."

And so Mariko volunteers to be that primary source of communication. By showing him her watch — and Sebastian's, who immediately insists he doesn't want to be left out — Abe quickly sets up an exchange of messaging information, no different than text messaging on any normal phone. Any message sent though the digital link he set up for them would show up on each and every primary computer in Dr. Chevalier's labs. And as he assured them before, he intends to visit every last one, so it's almost guaranteed he would be able to reply to them posthaste. Granted he isn't in the middle of something important, of course. Whatever exactly that may mean.

It places a pin in Mariko's mind. Right now, there's nothing that can be done about it, at least nothing that could answer those points of uncertainty without the need of straying from their straightforward path. A path of which soon will lead them to the skies.

Though she had a sneaking suspicion of it earlier, it still disappoints Mariko to have to walk past the cloud salamanders' enclosure without being able to enter it. Who knows if they do security checks there. There are soldiers in the plaza, after all, so if anyone were to see past Soleil's disguise, they're set for another run-in with the law that they could all do without. Even with the dé VaLore insignia Mariko carries with her. It's more of a backup plan. The ideal situation is still that no one finds them out.

That being said, it's the same-old routine travel through the convenience of the PIPTIA portals. This time, to Arumathia's Inner City Station A. Just as they all agreed before Soleil decided to go and shut down on them. And more time seems to have passed since then than they all thought, the darkened skies calling upon the need for manmade light throughout the city streets they all soon step onto. And beneath a sky eerily void of stars, the hovering lanterns lining the streets of the city of angels are in themselves a breathtaking display. As though those same stars now sit confined in these little glass boxes that can be found at every corner. They do have a sort of...otherworldly sparkle to them. The closer Mariko observes one, she's almost tempted to open the glass just to see for herself.

"...tryna blind yourself there, Mars?"

She identifies Sebastian's voice right next to her but it just barely registers. "It's so pretty," she whispers aloud. Her eyes follow the firefly-like essence swimming around inside the floating lantern.

"Uh-oh," Boey then utters in a grave tone, "she's becoming moth. Mari! Away!" He tugs at her wrist. "Resist, Mari! Resist!" 

"I believe this utilizes a form of the angels' ancient technology," Soleil joins, and Mariko finally breaks from her trance to look at her. Soleil is observing the lantern as well, the colorful light reflected in her own, multicolored eyes. As if they didn't sparkle enough. A soft smile slips onto her lips. "I don't know much about it, admittedly," she goes on, sweeping a hand underneath the light, as if to ascertain there were no invisible post attached. "The angels are a surprisingly private people. That's why you may not have seen many around Wynsmith and New Floravale — well, aside from those who attended my concert before."