2010-03-25 - All Those Great Things That Life Has to Give

Among the safest places within America, for Katharon, is within the walls, and domes, of Paradigm city. A beacon of alliance to Katharon surrounded by a sea of Federation and A-Laws territories. But it was not so much a staging ground as it was a bastion ... no matter how much the city around it may seem.

It might remind C.C. of a few past pompous members of the affluent rich, and the people the poor servants and peasants. The city outside, plain to see, would have some members down on their luck - in somewhat poor states of living. Within the domes, a whole different world, in which the rich and middle class enjoy their well earned rest from their work.

The specific dome that they were invited too includes a mansion so large it is more like a castle, a dome encasing a chunk of land that seems far too large for one person - but that it is. The Rosewater Mansion is spotless, the white mansion kept so through the many servants that mill about, paid fairly.

But the final stop would be, most importantly,the dining room. Walls built between arches - greenery and delicate curtains hanging throughout the room. And at the end, Alex Rosewater - clad in the perfectly white suit that he always seems to have.

They may have been shown in earlier, and they may have been here for quite a while, but it is now in which Alex will see them.

"It is my pleasure to have you," The head of the Paradigm Corporation and ruler of the city speaks, a smile barely there, but visible. "Although I wish it could have been under more pleasant circumstances."

SOME TIME AGO

C.C. is laying around on her (that is, Zero's) couch. She's watching TV, like she usually does when she's laying on the couch. She's not wearing anything but her underwear south of her navel, which is also not particularly uncommon in the Zero household. When you reach a certain age, you just don't really give a shit about wearing pants anymore.

A figure emerges from the kitchen area nearby. Laura Rolla is wearing some of C.C.'s clothes, but more importantly, she's wearing a large, frilly pink apron that C.C. has helpfully tagged 'LELOUCH' in marker. "The dishes are done, Miss C.C.!" the 'girl' chirps, in that helpful, happy tone that suggests she's maybe, possibly not 100% aware of how she's being exploited.

"Mmmn," C.C. says, possibly asleep with her eyes open. They're certainly glazed over -- the TV is showing one of the seemingly endless number of neo soap operas set in prison, with dramatic but crass and cheesy string music swelling while Shabazz uses a glass shank to stab Bark Dogg in the ass in the showers. Blood is everywhere.

Then there's a loud "DING!"

"Oh! Cheese-kun must be ready!" Laura skips off, and returns a moment later. C.C. has her arms thrust out, but she's not even looking -- a disaffected take on the universal symbol every toddler uses to say 'GIMME.' "Here he is, Miss C.C., fresh out of the dryer!" C.C. grabs her doll and hugs it tightly, oblivious to how hot it is.

In the doorway, Lelouch Lamperouge watches, running a hand back through his hair. "What the fuh--"

NOW

C.C. and Laura were indeed the first to arrive, dressed rather finely. Their outfits even match -- variations around a school uniform in tan and black. C.C. has naturally given herself the more modest of the two -- she wears slacks, probably nicked from Zero's closet, the inseam resewn so that when she's done using them the one time she'll ever use them, he can never wear them again. Laura, meanwhile, has been equipped with a skirt so short that it really could have only come from the CLAMP line of extraordinarily dangerous schoolwear.

"Ah, Mister Rosewater," C.C. says, looking up from where she's seated.

Where C.C. is seated, of course, is Rosewater's own seat, at the head of the table. She has her legs crossed, and her hands folded in her lap, as if she's quite comfortable -- she makes no motion to get up when he enters, but instead gestures toward the table. "Please, have a seat. I've sent Laura to fetch us some coffee. I do hope she'll find her way around all right -- though I've certainly seen larger, this is still no small mansion."

As Rosewater comes to greet his guests - it seems they had taken the note to make themselves at home to a certain degree. The largest chair was /his/ - but it certainly wasn't this day. A tinge of annoyance at the woman, so irritating to deal with to begin with, causes the man's 'smile' to falter slightly.

But nothing was evre really accomplished without sacrifice - though he was so unused to sacrificing things of his /own/. No, that was usually reserved for others. He was not born as he was to play nice with commoners.

But it is sometimes unavoidable.

With a moment of pause, Alex looks to C.C., whom greets him from his seat. "I see you've taken my words to heart." Not entirely one to bend at her words, though, he doesn't immediately have a seat after she tells him to. "Oh, you really didn't need to do that. I have plenty of servents willing... to have a guest take care of something like that..." He shakes his head - only now, finally sitting down.

Childish, a bit, but Alex was still a bit of one.

Two others fill the room with Alex, standing at both sides of him - one, a white and black striped man, a face of white with a hat on that covers anything above the mouth with a shadow, and a lifeless looking woman with a white dress - with red frills, here and there.

"As you can see - Your friend really didn't need to bother." He repeats, "And while it may not be the largest, I have other... pressing things to use the money for." His fingers entertwining over the table. "The city, and the world, can't simply be ignored. Don't you think so?"

"Oh, Laura doesn't mind, I'm sure she loves exploring new places," C.C. says with a casual wave of her hand, as if Rosewater was silly for suggesting that serving be left to the servants. "Besides, I've finally taught her exactly how I like to take my coffee, and it'd be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste."

"And of course I wouldn't /dare/ suggest that the world could be /ignored/, Mister Rosewater," the green-haired woman says, giving his pair of allies a somewhat askance look before returning her attention to her host. She leans back in her (Alex's) chair a bit, bringing her hands up and steepling her fingers, pressing the peak to her chin as if in thought.

"Although I /do/ suggest that we get down to business, as I'm sure you didn't invite me here to have a friendly little chat about ideology. Am I right?" C.C.'s voice grows a touch colder, and more than a touch more insinuating. "You want to talk about Turn X."

Sitting in his new seat, Alex looks on to C.C. How flippant. How carefree. How /irritating/. And yet Alex must admire how she uses people. How they are like puppets in her grasp. As terrible, and as unbelievable, as the thought may be - he makes a note to be careful, lest he too become wrapped around her fingers.

He had the tools to cut himself free - but just the thought was terrible.

"How direct." Alex responds, letting C.C. talk all that time, only answering when she is finally done. Though cold and insinuating, Alex does not back away from the subject. "For the safety of Katharon, the more information you are able to provide to us, the better. What little we are capable of doing to protect ourselves from such a thing... when we are unaware of even what it is capable of."

A smile slowly graces his face, but it is more like a grin to a wolf. It is not a sincere smile. "And you seem to have such ... thorough knowledge." He leans slightly forwards, "And if there was but one thing to change a battle, to change a /war/, it is knowledge."

"So you see, Miss C.C.," The 'smile' persists as he sits back, hands entwined, held a bit before him. "It is in all our best interests to share. What it is capable of. Just where did it come from... and most importantly," The intensity of his voice grows,"Just what we can /do/ against it."

"I'm afraid you're slightly mistaken, Mister Rosewater," C.C. says. She seems unmoved by his rhetoric, keeping her fingers pressed to her chin but never letting her expression seem bored or disinterested. Instead, she merely looks serious, as if the gravity of the topic were one of the rare things worthy of her complete concentration.

"What I have is not the knowledge you seek. Or, at least, not to the extent I feel you're presuming. What I have is /experience/." C.C. brings her hands down, lacing her fingers together as if she were about to say grace. "Knowledge and experience should never be confused, Mister Rosewater. In fact, it's possibly the most dangerous thing anyone could do."

C.C. pauses, glancing away for a moment. She looks around the room, and brings one hand back up, running her index finger just under her bottom lip gingerly. She can't ever just /think/ -- it has to be a physical display, too. "How much technology would you say this mansion runs upon? I mean, beyond things like your computers and your surveillance systems and intercoms and whatnot. I mean... your gate mechanisms. Your fire alarms. Your heating. Your plumbing. Your lights. Imagine if one day, something happened and none of it worked. Absolutely none of it. How helpless would you feel? How... powerless, if you'll forgive the slight pun?"

C.C.'s tone is cold now. She obviously isn't joking, or teasing, or pushing Rosewater's buttons. This is deadly serious. "Now imagine this happening /everywhere/. All over the world. How many shuttles do you think are in the air at any given moment? Imagine all of them dropping to Earth like a Biblical plague. Imagine what would happen if a nuclear power plant suddenly decided it was not going to do its job anymore -- likewise, its safety mechanisms. That is what Turn A and Turn X did to the world, Mister Rosewater. In one cruel moment -- everything ended."

C.C.'s words are harrowing indeed. Spoken from the lips of a person who has experienced travesty countless times, the gravity is all too real. To the point that the sanctity of this very mansion might be suspect.

"You could say our world is the consequence of having too much of that knowledge you crave... Alex Rosewater."

--But perhaps for slightly different reasons.

The voice comes from the entrance of the dining hall; it is deep, muffled, and echoes off the grand halls as a single, slender form steps out, dressed in darkness. The faceless mask of Zero beholds Alex Rosewater as he steps inside, pulling his cape tightly over him and stopping, respectfully, just beyond the entrance.

"My apologies for the entrance," booms Zero, his veiled head tilting upward. "But C.C.'s peril is my own, and as such I felt I must be here." Behind his mask, Lelouch smiles thinly, waiting confidently for permission to enter the hall completely.

"I have heard and read many impressive things about you, and your father, Mister Rosewater. I am very interested to hear what ideas you may have to protect our worlds from this potential repetition of fate."

On cue, Laura walks into the room wearing C.C.'s stupidly abbreviated school uniform. It doesn't even look like a school uniform, but rather something a mildly rich girl would wear to the park. She has nice legs.

"Ah, I found what you were looking for, Miss C.C. It was a little difficult, but they have a very nice kitchen." She waltzes over to the head of the table, setting down the tray and serving the witch her share of coffee. The legendary Earth Militia pilot has stunningly missed all parts of the conversation involving apocalypse. "Sir Zero! Did you want some coffee too? Your mask might be difficult."

Knowledge and experience... "Of course, how could I have made such a mistake." Alex repeats - and it's not in a tone of even slight anger. No, the man is reminded. "It is not good enough to know it will work - but to know how it has worked, first hand. It is not the book it comes from, but the memories of the man whom penned it."

It all boils down to memories, even now, doesn't it?

"You must forgive me... in this city, it is not unlike one to forget something quite important." A bit of a chuckle follows it - but as C.C. speaks up again, ignoring his worls altogether - it is this idea, this unbelievable fable, that causes what little good feelings from the man to be purged.

The mansion - just how many things would fail? His gaze even averts from C.C., turning to the walls, the lighting that supports it. The systems that keeps the domes well lit. Clean. /Habitable/. His gaze falls even on those who stand behind him - the soulless eyes of the woman in the dress staring towards C.C. as she speaks.

But there is more - and Alex Rosewater, never quite phasable, has a look of disbelief.

And yet /how wonderful/ it would be. The world, purged of the scum that crawls upon it - within the domes, they would be safe - at least for some time being, would they not? All those within the domes, the best chance at life in a new world.

And he, their god.

But the 'dream' is fleeting, and Zero's voice wakes him from such flights of fancy. "Hmm?" Though Zero may say so - he sees it completely .. different. "Do come in," He begins, "As you know this helpful young woman... it would be wrong of me to turn you away, after how much she has shared." And then comes the younger one - with far better legs, not that he focuses much on them.

"Please, do sit down and join us as well, Miss Rolla. Now that you have delivered your coffee... my servants can take care of the rest." To make a point of it, his glass is raised - wine poured into it from the inhuman maid.

"Ideas... Yes. I do believe us still being here, thanks to this charming young lady," The glass is lifted and waved towards Laura, "Will allow us the time we need."

C.C. listens to Alex Rosewater patiently. She's already decided that she doesn't trust the man. She made this decision as soon as he expressed interest in this meeting. But then, it's all but a default setting -- and, C.C. feels, a justified one. Better to trust no one.

Though her yellow eyes occasionally move to the bizarre figures forming a heraldic composition to either side of the man, C.C. stays focused on Rosewater's face, for the most part. Watching it, like a hawk, taking in every detail she can, like a professional gambler looking for tells. Her own expression takes on a look of slight disapproval, perhaps -- her lips purse, and beneath her bangs, her eyelids grow just a bit tense. "Mm," she says, but before the conversation can continue, two new challengers appear.

"Ah, Zero," C.C. says, without much enthusiasm.

"Ah! Laura!" C.C. says, with quite a bit of enthusiasm. "Thank you, my dear," she says when the coffee is set down, with something approaching sweetness (which sounds a bit out of place in her voice, and not just because of her indeterminate pan-European accent).

"C2," Zero notes, his voice plain somehow despite the unnatural muffled echo.

Violet eyes shift as Laura enters; they focus inward on the apron she wears, and Lelouch's brows furrow. His lips pull into a grimacing sort of frown. That witch--

"Ah, Miss... 'Laura,' isn't it?" Zero asks, tilting his head towards the Militia ace politely. "No tea is necessary for me, but thank you for your generosity. I am sure, however, you would like to join us for more than simply serving tea." Even if that is likely all C.C. brought her for, Zero notes wryly to himself as he walks forward, placing a hand on the back of a chair nearby C.C. He does not yet deign to sit.

"Knowledge is an important aspect of life. But the Black History has proven to us that too much of it is a dangerous thing. The word 'Gundam' is a blight to us for a reason, Mister Rosewater. You all have not yet experienced that curse." Zero pauses, letting his words sink in. Behind his mask, his brows lift.

"I believe we both can agree that the only knowledge we need of these machines is how to destroy them. Correct, C2?"

Laura makes a polite gesture of acknowledgement to Rosewater. She was brought up in a society that appreciates such things, which may be of use here. Otherwise, she nods to Zero and finds a seat next to C.C. Awww.

They're talking about Gundam. Nevermind the awww. Laura remains quiet, hands folded. She is unwilling to say anything she doesn't have to. As one of the few people who have seen the actual video recordings of the Dark History, there is much that she might say that could have unforeseen consequences.

The woman is silent, save to those she truly knows - and the bulk of the words fall to Zero. Whom kindly informs Alex of the blight of the 'Gundams'. He sits tall, though it is not /his/ seat he sits in. Silent, Alex lets them speak on their own terms - he would not be able to force them to say a word. Especially as Zero would not even reveal his identity - but would he even recognize a boy from another dimension?

It is not very likely.

"Too much of anything is always holds a negative effect upon humanity. It is up to us, as flawed as we are, to see to it that such things are regulated." But the curse of Gundam, he admits - he has not seen. Though Gundams may be a curse in their /own/ right, to have such a curse happen ... "We have had many mistakes in our ventures with such power and knowledge... even one that had taken place where this city now stands."

He takes a moment to parch his thrist, setting the wine glass down. "To destroy them is most certainly all of our goals... but first, we must get to your old foes, and our new allies."

He glances about the room, fingers slipping free of the hold between them. "But I have a few ideas for that as well. Please, do go on." He notes to C2 - and perhaps Laura.

C.C. sips her coffee, giving Zero a bit of a droll look as he speaks, as if sharing in some silent conspiracy. 'Get a load of all this,' the look seems to say. It's not subtle at all, and seems to pay no mind to the fact that the owner of the house is literally /right there/. Laura, meanwhile, gets a smile when she parks herself next to the immortal witch.

The green-haired woman returns her attention to Rosewater when he speaks, and she calmly sips her coffee throughout. "Before we continue, Mister Rosewater, I'd like to backtrack a step or two."

C.C. sets her cup down, and leans forward one one armrest of the luxurious throne she occupies. Forward, toward Rosewater, like a prosecutor bearing down on someone on the witness stand in some episode of Neo Matlock. "Your choice of words stands out to me as curious. Specifically... 'regulate.'" C.C. doesn't hide the confrontational nature of her statement, nor does she try to sugarcoat it at all. Rosewater's a big boy, after all. "'Regulating' something is not destroying it. 'Regulating' something is /controlling/ it. Like experience and knowledge -- two very, very different things. So, Mister Rosewater. Let's not fool ourselves about this discussion any longer."

C.C. sits back, but her gaze remains fixed on Rosewater's eyes, lips curling into a small frown.

"Which is it?"

Within the bounds of his faceless mask, Lelouch vi Britannia frowns. That damned C.C. -- she's no good at subtlety at all. Part of him wonders the prospects of how long a trap revolving around pizza would keep the witch occupied--

--when she speaks again, and that frown just increases. 'Regulating' something is not destroying it. 'Regulating' something is /controlling/ it...' The points she speaks are very true. But when dealing with men like Rosewater--

"I wonder," Zero interjects suddenly, smoothly after C.C.'s pointed words. Violet eyes shift behind that mask.

"What do you think of all this, Laura Rolla?"

The question comes abruptly as Zero turns a gloved hand towards the white-haired girl, almost as if in accusation -- as if casting the spotlight entirely on her. "C.C. may have experienced the catastrophe, but you, Miss Rolla, have sat directly in its cockpit. You do not have a heart that is full of ambition and desire like some, and thus, you are in a patently unique position. You are a pure heart that controls the apocalypse in your palm, Laura Rolla.

"So what do you think of this situation?"

And hopefully, that will do the trick.

Laura looks up. Unexpectedly, she does not glance toward C.C. for guidance.

"My heart, not full of ambition?" She frowns, working the idea over in her head. She is not used to talking in such official settings and knows her words must be chosen carefully. If only Queen Dianna or Miss Kihel were here! They've spoken to so many people. "I think it is! My mobile suit is a machine that has a dark past, but it is also a machine that can help people at this point. As long as I pilot it, my only goal is to keep it the White Doll and not the 'White Devil.'" This expression may be unfamiliar to Rosewater in the context Laura is using it, as the Gundams have not obtained apocalyptic notoriety yet in this place.

"The Ghingnham Fleet and the Turn X must be stopped, and then we can decide how to proceed."

It is not only Alex that notices such things. The black and white man, spindly - far too skinny to be perfectly human, leans to Alex's ears, speaking something in a hushed tone - but Alex had already noticed the look between Zero and C.C. - or rather, C.C. and the mask. There is little he can tell involving Zero.

It bothers him.

Yet, it's not what stops Alex amidst his words - it's C.C's pointed note for them to, momentarily, back up. She may be able to tell that he is ... slightly bothered. "Hmmmm?" But he does not show all of his displeasure - though he cannot resist showing /some/. He must be composed.

"You must forgive .. ah ... for not making myself clear." Rosewater sits up, forwards, to meet the woman. He leans almost off his chair - and though the guest chairs were still comfortable, it throws him off - only slightly. "We can only hope to regulate until both can be destroyed. Or do you assume that the Turn A should be destroyed before the Turn X? As much as we /should/ want this, the Turn A is a necessary means to an end until the Turn X is either destroyed, or in our possession - at which both /both/ can be destroyed."

It's fortunate that words, while a prison, are so easily twisted. How things said can be so easily undone if you leave enough loose ends. Alex smiles - and perhaps it is the first real smile they would see today. One stemming from his words ... and the words of one Laura Rolla.

"As the pilot of the machine says themselves... regulation first... and then destruction, later." The jovial expression is momentary, the serious look returning quickly.

"While I understand a healthy distrust is necessary in such arrangements - especially lately -," Alex sits back, hands resting alongside the chair arm-rests. "Please, understand that my purpose as the head of this City and the Paradigm Corporation is the protection of these people. I have fully backed Katharon as I had the Orb Union because of this... and ask that you give me the slightest bit of trust."

His hands fold, his head turning to look straight at C.C. "I promise you that it will be well worth it in the end - when this world will no longer be under the hands of corrupt politicians and warmongers. A future we both look forwards to."

C.C. remains leaned back in her seat as Zero and Laura speak. She doesn't move her head, resting one hand under her chin, her other forearm laid across her body to support its matching appendage. It's a posture of consideration. Her eyes, however, follow the conversation, moving first to Zero, then to Laura.

Oh, good, Zero, she thinks.

Make the boy express what he's /thinking/.

Wonderful!

"Mm," C.C. responds in a very quiet, muted tone after Laura speaks, before looking over at Rosewater once more. Her hand remains under her chin. Her frown remains one of thought and deliberation. When he finishes, she nods very slightly, barely a movement, and then speaks, herself.

C.C.'s tone is less pointed, more cordial. "I hope you don't think I have anything against you personally, Mister Rosewater. But this is a matter in which I feel no mistakes can be afforded -- which means trust is difficult, especially when we've shared little more than a radio discussion prior to tonight. Mister Rosewater, I once lived in a house very much like this. I had servants and was surrounded by luxury. I wanted for nothing. I had a husband. We were in love, as far as I can remember."

Something C.C. has never bothered revealing to either Zero or Laura. Maybe it's just not important to her anymore. "In any event, the Black History took me from... one day, I was in a house like this. The next, I was beating a stray dog to death with a rock in order to stave off starvation. Old soul though I may be -- these experiences have stayed with me. And so I share your desire for... mm, a stronger, more loving world. And I believe that we must proceed carefully. Ghingnham must be stopped, yes. But it would be a shame if what Zero so politely termed 'ambition and desire' clouded the goal I /do/ hope we all share."

Diffusion is important, especially in situations with individuals Zero has yet to properly assess. Alex Rosewater is a powerful man -- and from what he's read, a great influence on a very bizarre sort of city. And the Megadeuses--

"C.C. has had very real experiences to attest to put weight to the gravity of this situation. These machines are not things to be toyed with or tested, nor are they things to be explored, or even understood beyond the barest of necessities. These machines -- are the very exemplification of mankind's hubris! They are our sins, given form! We can be nothing if not as suspicious as possible for anything regarding them. But..."

Zero shifts easily; still standing, he moves to position himself behind 'Laura,' to put a gloved hand on the Turn A pilot's shoulder. "... But they are ultimately machines, and all machines are subject to the will of those who control them. Laura Rolla has proven herself time and again in piloting this machine that even those machines capable of great evil, are also capable of great good, if those who pilot them have true intentions. For the time being, I would suggest that the Turn A continue to stay within Laura's hands. If there is a method to destroy the Turn X and Gym Ghingnham, we will not find it through investigation." Zero's gloved hand squeezes Laura's shoulder, as if reassuringly.

"We will find it in this pilot's pure will."

Most of this, of course, is horseshit.

But it sounds incredibly convincing.

Laura is alone in this room. Not physically, perhaps, but because she is the only one speaking earnestly and without guile.

She looks up toward Zero as he places a hand upon her familiar uniform, listening to the reassuring words- yet, increasingly, Laura feels that there is no one that understands the SYSTEM 99 Called 'Turn A Gundam' like she does. This conversation serves her purposes. Fear of its capabilities have often resulted in people allowing the weapon to stay in Laura's hands, imagining that she is the most mild of the possible choices.

Laura bows her head in a show of respect toward Zero's kind words. Inwardly, she is still wondering who her allies are.

There is little he should do beyond listen - and it is what Alex does do. There is something in an ageless, knowing woman that unnerves him. How could such a thing /exist/. No.

How could /HE/ become such a thing? Was it even possible?

He is silent - long after she speaks. Long after her message is made. The words bear down on him - and if he was a far greater man, a far more caring and kind man, he would sympathize with her, truly. He would care for her, truly. But the man he is - he can only think of the domes torn apart. His chance at godhood, ripped away.

/No/. He cannot allow it. If he has to tear them apart himself - to activate the sleeping giant below far too early - he would.

The podium is passed to Zero. While Alex does not know any who sit, and stand, before him - he knows, or at least believes, they are below him - but he is cautious, all the same. How very real it is the chance they could interfere in the future.

"Your losses have been terrible - and I do not wish for you to experience it again, or us to experience it at all." Zero's words touch him - a bit too prepared, or at least, a bit heavy handed. They are sins. They are weapons - and they take. "The people of Paradigm City have felt the same - I can only assume the same event that left this city the city of amnesia was tied, somehow, to the Megadeus. But of course... no one will ever know." He shakes his head, looking back to Zero.

"I had never thought of it leaving her hands. The skill she has demonstrated proves this, as well." He states - and then stands up, the chair pulled out from behind him by the maid - robot?

"Unfortunately, I must excuse myself... but we have decided what must be done, for all our sakes. The Turn A will be kept in the hands of Miss Rolla only until the Turn X is destroyed." His gaze falls over C.C. next, "And we shall work together, without the use of either machine, for a better world. One in which none will have to share C.C.'s pain again... or Laura's, in a way, forced to fight because of the choices of us and those before us."

He steps away from the table, the chair being pushed in, as he heads to the door, stopping at the opening. "Thank you for your time - and may we have a bright future ahead of us." The white suit, and Alex, disappear shortly after.

Yes. May the future be very bright for /all/ of them. One in which he would no longer have to deal with such trifles.

C.C. waits until Alex Rosewater has left, before she turns to face Laura. Zero is pointedly ignored, but this is just a default state. If he wants her attention, he'd damn well learn to earn it.

"I'm sorry you had to sit through that, my dear," C.C. says, reaching out to gently touch Laura's cheek. "I trust you completely. Know that. All right? Like I said before... it's everyone else I don't trust. So if I behave as I did today, however beastly it may seem -- I'm trying to protect you."

C.C.'s voice has a soft, sweet tone to it. Zero has never once received this tone. It's somewhat affected, but the noise she makes can pass for genuine. "You do what you believe is right. And I'll follow you. I just need that decision to be yours. And not that of... others."

C.C.'s eyes momentarily flick up to Zero's mask.

'I trust you completely.'

Mentally, Lelouch can't help but snort.

"The human heart is the most powerful weapon any individual can wield in battle. It is more powerful than your Turn A's wings of fire, and it is more powerful than C2's undying body," Zero speaks calmly as he turns away from Laura. "Even if some may only remember it when it is of their personal benefit."

Zero's eyes momentarily flick down to C.C. behind his mask.

"I will do what I can to ensure no prying hands or eyes fall upon your White Doll, 'Laura.' And will make sure to do everything within the Black Knights' resources to help put an end to the Turn X. You only need ask, and we will be at your disposal. We fight for justice, after all.

"And there is no justice in a weapon meant to burn away the world."

Zero walks away, stopping beside C.C.. A hand, too, rests on her shoulder for a moment, before he walks away again. It might seem like an affectionate gesture, but--

--Lelouch needs to have /words/ with C.C. about less-than affectionate things.

Laura, like her mobile suit, remains a doll. She puts a hand on C.C.'s chair when she is touched on the cheek, and even reaches up to brush against Zero's hand. She is the picture of submissiveness.

As Zero turns away, there is a sudden click-clack of heels on the floor. Laura comes up behind the masked man, forcibly grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around, holding him still with a weird strength that her body doesn't seem to support. It doesn't help that Zero is skinny, himself.

"Zero! Promise me! Promise me that you're not working toward an era where the strong oppress the weak! Promise me that your justice is also compassion, and that it is for everyone, no matter who they are!"

Admittedly, C.C. was momentarily distracted. She hates it when Zero touches her. Maybe it's because she lives with him and can only imagine what he does with that hand. To himself, or worse, to Kallen. It's enough to make immortal skin crawl. But that's neither here nor there, because right now, she's focused on what might happen here.

Standing from Rosewater's chair, C.C. watches. Her expression stays muted, but if she had a telepathic mind ray, it would be broadcasting something like this to the masked man:

ZERO DON'T YOU DARE FUCK THIS UP

That grip is strong for a woman; combined with the fact that Lelouch is about as strong as his twig-like appearance would suggest, this is more than enough to startle him. He's momentarily thankful that he wears his mask as he is spun about, that glassy, black face staring lifelessly back at Laura. Inwardly, Lelouch would be irritated.

If it weren't for what Laura says afterwards.

The words take him aback. Not because of how powerfully they're delivered -- conviction has only ever meant a point of manipulation for him. It's the words themselves. They remind him of something. Someone distinct. Someone he cares about more than anything in the world.

"... I promise you," Zero begins, after that pointed and off-beat moment of silence, "that the end I seek is a world where an individual such as yourslf can look upon it with the purest of joys." There is no booming convinction in his words, none of that sweeping inspiration -- his tone is remarkably straightforward for the briefest of moments where, perhaps strangest of all, C.C.'s deathglares go completely unseen. "What I want is a world where the kind-hearted can prosper without fear that those who think themselves 'strong' will prey upon them."

Zero stops. He lingers there, for a moment, as Lelouch realizes his precious, figurative mask has slipped. Lips pulling into a thin line behind that black veil, he steps away, once more turning from Laura.

"... People like yourself are the ones who are truly strong, Laura Rolla. Never forget that fact."

And then, he will walk away just as simply as that, even as his brows twist into a knot. That 'Laura' -- is far too similar to Nunnaly. He'll have to stay away from her from now on.

Zero's words have enough impact that Laura's grip is weak enough for him to pull away, and she does not pursue him. The pilot of the White Doll breathes deep, gulping air like she's been running. Her anger is easily defused, but the masked leader of the Black Knights did it too easily. It was only the casual nature of his voice that did it; the booming propaganda only hurt her opinion.

Laura walks back to her chair, kicked away from the table, and sits down. She folds her hands in her lap. "If he's lying I'll have to kill him, probably." Her tone hints at her holding back tears.

Now it's C.C.'s turn to come up behind someone, as her slim, pale hand rests on Laura's back, a casual touch -- far from an embrace, but a gesture of connection. "If he's lying..." she starts to say, but trails off, voice quieting.

Stepping around the pilot of the White Doll, C.C. turns her head to exchange a look. The Codebearer is about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the skull, but there are times where she's downright inscrutable. This is one of those moments. The gaze is meaningful. But whatever meaning C.C. intends, she keeps to herself, before turning and beginning to walk away, leaving Laura to follow.

If she likes.