let's get lao'd (let's get lao'd)

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Seren is not, inherently, a being of utmost preparation. Sometimes when awestruck BLADEs contract a hushed tone and wonder how it is that the Rook of Team Elma (ugh, ugh) does all that they do with such prowess, Seren pitches a lie and says that being analytical is the key, but their actual teammates know it's much more like a feel for a groove with a little bit of TP-laundering on the side.

The same applies for the situation-critical missions Vandham hands down after dinner, in that Seren tries not to take it too seriously, and just gets the handful of objectives accomplished in between silently observing whatever it is that's ticking along down the Miran pike this fine morning in Noctilum, or Sylvalum, or Oblivia.

Ma-non? A very happy find. Wrothians? Also seem cool, even if Seren's too much of a dog person to go for their leader obviously gunning for Galactic Knight.

Actually, they dig just about everything and everyone that talks game on Mira, besides the ones that are talking a nasty game, outright.

Except for Lao. Seren finds it really, really hard to dig Lao - and this, of course, is because Lao really, really doesn't want to be dug, and especially not by a wildcard with blue hair and a halo who doesn't have the same earnestness in emotional scenarios as Lin does, even though they're otherwise visually similar (well, maybe in silhouette, anyway).

But speaking of dug, Seren does like Doug, and since Doug likes Lao, trusts him loves him drags him from the grave, so too will Seren. They'll try, anyway. Not to mention how tough it's been for Lin to just try. Ill-fitting mim or no, Seren Sirius is not without human sympathy.

There's sympathy, and there's empathy, and then there's judgement. Doug asks what they think in a very calm, measured tone, but when they respond in the affirmative toward a somewhat severe caution, as Elma suggests, Doug's tone flares uncharacteristically.

As much as a nod can be a response. It's enough of one, though. Seren might not always agree with Elma, but this is much more cut and dry. Something has to be investigated, here. Obviously they can't just pass it by.

Important missions like these are not necessarily pastimes of passivity, for Seren, but rather exercises in quiet, circumspect decision-making as guided by Elma and her higher-ups.

Maybe that's what has Doug bugged - he asked a gentle question in a fragile moment, but he still expected a Seren-typical response. Instead, he got the eyes-lidded nod. Maybe he forgot that Seren contains multitudes.

And what were they gonna say, anyway? No, I think your homeslice is a dirty stool pigeon?

Seren doesn't want to be NLA's hero, savior, beacon of amnesia. What Elma suggests is salient very often is, when it concerns Chausson or Luxaar or gigastic mechs or what the hidden meaning nobody's bothered to explain just might be.

There's a guy in a tank over there with an oxygen mask on getting blue fluid infusions, and his daughter in the distant diaspora has brought her furry little pet brother to worry over him. Isn't that enough stickiness for one situation? And Tatsu's long been sans honey.

There's no making this up after the fact, though. The execution of the investigation isn't even addressed until a few days later. That's already long enough for Seren to notice that Doug is still deflated, non-cyclically, and they can't quite decide what it's done for matters that they've been pulling Nagi instead of him to tank some beefier Tyrants.

Imagine that. Canvassing for Tyrants without their resident Harrier buddy. Could they be accused of rubbing shoulders with curry-flavored favor instead of rolling over with the classic soldier?

That's not the kind of decision or reputation Seren wants to shoulder. They just want to do a job, or seventeen, help every other Miran refugee they can get their Sakuraba boots to stumble across, and collect some Blatta medals for their time. Say, Saltat fans? Galaxial jewels?

Any miscellaneous ask, that's for Seren. They'll sleep at the diner or on a bench in the Commercial District while L goes shopping at the midnight caravan. They'll pace through the Weeping Whitewood for cycles upon cycles waiting for something righteously creepy to show. They'll crouch in the Delusians, ready to sprint, with no particular goal, until even the Aetrygons flit to the Sylooths to get flung.

Imagine having to explain this to Doug, who's been doubly worried about Lao's listlessness and who's much more mysteriously dedicated than most. Imagine having to tell him that they just don't care that much. That they saw Lao laid up on a rock at the Seabird's Beak and all he had to say about Shingo was "He is dead."

Well. That wasn't the end of the thought, but it should be, shouldn't it?

They saw Lao malingering there, undetermined, and didn't really know what it meant one way or the other, but pressed on as Lin declared - part of a team, with a job to do. Any team, for now.

Maybe they're fooling themselves, but Seren feels like if all of NLA suddenly decided they didn't really care to give any special treatment to another exponent of the Lifepod, that'd be okay. Since Seren is as Seren does, dealing in the moment and iterative goodwill, if that's the way it's gotta be, then so be it.

But, that doesn't make the task at hand any less unmanageable.

They can't figure out how to broach the subject, so they don't.

"I don't really know Lao," is how they open. The next thought that occurs to Seren is that anything they do learn will probably have to come through Doug, from now on. Probably easier to understand that way.

Doug huffs, but there's a reluctance to it; a natural softness. "Is this your way of trying to apologize? Don't worry about it...I get it."

Seren sighs in mirror. "Yeah, you might, but I don't, so that's what I wanted to say. I'm really not qualified to make any judgement on him at all, no matter what the rumor mills say about my famous escapades with every BLADE on the roster. I just went with what Elma said. ...I'm sorry."

"You're allowed to agree with Elma, you know," replies Doug, staring at his hands. "Lots of people do."

Lots of people? You mean everyone. All building toward a mighty singularity in Cauldros. About the grand arch of things, Elma's right. Always right.

But Seren, earthside, 's not so grand. Never was.

"The two of us aren't lots of people. I'd rather agree with you."