mental link

[adamance]

WISDOM passing on her legacy, her knowledge, and showing a willingness for more	COMPASSION looking upon her people with care, with hope, and understanding a different layer of strength
STRENGTH strength is more than just mere words or mere actions—it is everything	PURPOSE being born for this

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

Day 165, mid-morning

[regalled]

[It is unlike him to do this in this fashion, but he recognizes the necessity of it. Still, when he reaches out it is unlike the gentle brush of Cathaway, uncolored by emotion, an empty space that seemed to gape, somehow nearly as unsettling as a mind too bare. His words are preceded by the obviousness of his attention, an anticipation, the mental equivalent to clearing his throat. And the words- stony and without warmth or comfort, unyielding and stern. He will not react to interruption. He won't even hear it.]

There are many things to discuss with you. [You- you, all of you, everyone he addressed- the clear knowledge that it was not a personal message, but a shared one.] This mission was a failure. Do not think to see it as anything less. The simplest of exercises intended only to allow those unaccustomed to gain some small experience with unfamiliar places. A harmless excursion.

[There's a pause, like a breath, a cold wind going colder.]

It was my failure that I saw you as anything but children, incapable of understanding that your choices have consequences. It is not a mistake I will make again. Your actions have proven you to be irresponsible, dangerous, and foolish. And as a result one of your own has died, for nothing. Those in his brood have now lost something irreplaceable. Do not imagine this feeling will go, do not imagine this emptiness will be filled by another. It will not. You will never be as strong as you could have been with him.

[It is simple fact, even as they grew they would lend each other strength. Now they had one less to draw from. There was a potential they would never reach.]

Hosts are lost. This is the reality of our situation, but Adam Parker did not die because we sought to strike a blow against the ones who hunt us. He did not even die because he made a foolish mistake. He died because you made a selfish choice. Remember this, your decisions effect more than you. Even your own life is not just yours any longer. You should be at least responsible enough not to drag those who should be able to rely on to their death.

[There is little point to this, he knows. Those that had behaved poorly would not listen to words, and if they had not yet learned a lesson there would be more loss and more suffering before they did. Still, this is too soon for this.]

There will be some time before you will be sent on your first true mission. I suggest you use it to better yourselves, for all of your sake.

[And the connection drops- cleanly as if he had flipped a switch. His mind was still there, as it always was, but distant, uninviting. This was never meant to be a dialogue.]

[adamance]

[Irritation runs clear at first, but Lexa is logical enough to know that he doesn't speak to her. She did not kill anyone. She acted in a way that gave her the knowledge necessary to move forward, though it was largely done in a way that let her figure out things as she went. Her only "reckless" action was done in a way that would endanger no others, and she used her skills. She sought help when she required it. And when she needed a place to better apply herself, she visited it.

But she's still irritated. Being spoken down to isn't something she welcomes easily, especially given their previous interactions. She reconnects with him, doing what she can to keep others out. But it's a clumsy, uncertain connection, one that she holds for along moment before she speaks. The last thing Lexa wants right now is to seem clumsy and uncertain. It will undermine her words.]

( You're right. The fault lies on you for not preparing us better in advance. There was little organization on your part. More than one person out there lacked the skills necessary to know what to do. ) [If it was just her lacking the technological know-how, it'd be one thing. But it was more than just her, and the previous training exercises had nothing to do with what lied ahead for them. There was, from what she can see, little preparation. It would be good for them to think on their feet, but this took things a step further.]

( I'd think you'd have a plan to prevent further deaths. One that doesn't involve rebuking and treating the other Hosts as children. I doubt I'm the only one who's put it together as to why you're the only two Hosts who awaited us. Many have died, haven't they? And still, you blame those who die while claiming to blame yourself. )

[To a degree, she does blame herself for not asserting herself further. But she has plans, and she'll have to enact them.]

( You will not presume to address us like this and make us all feel the guilt that you feel. If you wish to lead, lead. But this will not happen again. You will not speak to us like this again. )

[regalled]

[Her attempt to reach out to him is as clumsy as her attempt to reprimand him. It does nothing to make her seem less of a child, and if she thinks to get under his skin with her proud accusations, she is more the fool. His flesh is already rent. There is nowhere left for her to dig. He had known his failure from the moment he had discovered the girl and her bloody hands- a surprise to him, a surprise to Cathaway, a silent serpent leaking poison, hidden by the violent spitting volatility of her own broodmate.

The rest means little to him. He does not lead them, it was not his place and it had never been his place. Even among his own. The Nest had no leaders. His task was simply to provide them the tools to survive, and leave them to chose whether to take them. The fact that he cared in the least for the death of one Host among many was less a requirement of his position and more a personal quirk.

He could easily block her words, leave them to fall only in her own head, to echo awkwardly into the minds of those around her in her inelegance, but there is no need. He allows them through, unimpressed and unsurprised. Turns his attention away as soon as she is finished with her little tyrant's fit. An unimportant interlude.]

[adamance]

[She sits while she waits for a response, but she's not surprised when it doesn't come. He has no patience to do more than talk down to them. Lexa doesn't know about the complications of the situation, but she knows that their lack of leadership will be their undoing.

(Her people cling to the idea of a Commander, after all. It's almost like a fairy tale come to life, morphed into a religious experience.)

Lexa sends disapproval loud and clear through the link, knowing that others might sense it. She cares not. After it sends, she shuts it down—and makes a decisive decision.

If he will not confirm that he won't speak to them like that again, and will actually do what is necessary for what lies ahead, then she will take matters into her own hands.

That is what a Commander does, and her mission here is to return to her people. To her, it's all one and the same.]