Owner	Pose
Shredder	The Foot's control seems to be growing. At this point it's more a force of nature than it is a simple organization. Organized, orderly, passionate, the Foot's operations have spread throughout the city, and the government is reaching the point that it is little more than a puppet. Police aren't all on the take, but those who aren't answer to people who are.     Not everyone is unhappy about this. Mutant Town has been flourishing, petty theft and muggings are down. Of course, organized crime is at an all time high.     It takes a lot of manpower. Reported teenage homelessness is at an all time low as well. They have someplace to go. The Family. The Foot. They are given purpose, they are given direction. They are given training. Not coerced, but encouraged to be part of the force that now controls the city from behind the curtain.     One such training center has creeped up lately, the primary base is no longer large enough to house them all. It's a YMCA of all places. It has a "Safe Place" tag on the front next to the glass doors.
Elektra Natchios	The last weeks and months have seen Elektra busy, both with business, and with seeing what remains of her loyal cadre of Hand members once the smoke of Gao's departure has cleared. As expected, many have fled for parts unknown, or fallen. Some have remained independent, and feelers have been put out to them to see what responses she might get. And finally, there are those who saw the writing on the wall and let themselves be absorbed into the Foot clan - both for safety, and security, but also in hopes that exactly what happened would happen. That is, that Elektra might remember them, and they could still follow her in some small way, and further what she had set in motion. Thus had been their faith in her and her leadership. When her feelers reach them, they reach back. At first in subtle ways. Then, more directly, in ways she can't write off as coincidence, or happenstance. She's still to speak to one face to face, but she has no doubt that, too, will come. For now, though, she knows where they are, and their information has led to her being able to identify a few Foot strongholds by those subtle markers left outside such establishments as those who can read the seemingly innocuous grafitti or other markers will recognize to be fronts for the Foot clan. That's how it is that Elektra finds herself at the YMCA, striding through the front doors as bold as brass, knowing word will spread throughout that she's there. Scarf pulled up over her face in her distinctive trademark, weapons evident (and some not so evident), she's determined to get an audience.
Shredder	As Elektra walks through the front desk, a young woman, perhaps twenty years old, looks at her with wide eyes. "Um, may I help you?" she asks timidly. Her hand is already moving under the desk, likely for some sort of alarm. She doesn't look like much of a fighter herself, a little on the heavy side, a yellow YMCA shirt on and blue jeans over her legs.
Elektra Natchios	"Yes," Elektra says in clipped tones, looking first to the woman at the desk, and then down the hallway where she has no doubt there are cameras trained upon her. "Tell whomever is in charge that I'm here. They'll know who I am and what that means. They can chose to speak to me, or I will begin making my request more pointed until they decide to change their mind."
Shredder	"Mr. Morrison has gone home for the evening," she says hesitantly. "Um, did you have a meeting scheduled? We were about to close up for the night." The girl looks honestly clueless, or if she knows what's being talked about, she is making a very good front. Of course past the immediate cinder block wall, there is a view into the mostly empty gym. Empty except for a small group of four youths who are gathered at one corner in blue gym shorts and ash gray t-shirts. Nothing remarkable, nothing special.
Elektra Natchios	"Yes. You best close up for the night. It would be safest for all involved." Elektra's smile is cold, but hidden by her scarf. "Tell Mr. Morrison he's changing his plans." It may be the girl is clueless, but Elektra is past the point of caring. However it happens, the person she intends on talking to /will/ show up, because any disturbance on the level of the one Elektra is about to cause will draw unwanted attention to this spot. If it isn't her who is in the know, someone who is is watching her, and they won't stand for it. "I will be in the gym," Elektra says calmly. "I expect my message to be delivered. My patience is wearing thin." And with that, and with arrogant nonchallance, Elektra strides towards the gym, fully expecting that those youth will make a point of 'talking' to her, or someone else will.
Shredder	The small group turn, looking a little surprised. They look to be three boys and one girl in their early high school years. "Are you Jennika?" one of them asks, seeing the outfit. "We thought that the master would be here tonight," he comments. "We'd been looking forward to it."     "Never assume someone to be your ally," a voice comes, addressing the youth from behind Elektra's entrance. It's the Shredder. He wears a more traditional Shozoku, black with a red sash. His face is still covered, but those who know him wouldn't have as much trouble identifying him.     The youth exchange a glance, uncertain what to make of the situation. They don't seem to identify either person on sight.     "Why are you here," he asks Elektra, moving across the gym floor in a steady and casual pace. "I must confess, it is a bit of a surprise."
Elektra Natchios	"I could be anyone," Elektra tells the youth calmly. If they do not attack her, she has no intention of attacking them. Nor would she seek to kill them. She's skilled enough to incapacitate when she wishes. Her point isn't to kill those she's sought to protect - even if they are Foot soldiers. Mind, their response suggests they may not be. Saki's arrive confirms all else she wanted, though, and proves her plan to have been successful. "No. One should never assume an ally," Elektra says quietly, taking her time in turning to face the man. She does not give him any gesture of respect, though she might once have. "You should know why I am here. Then again, I thought you wished to court my fealty." Her words come with a short, bitter laugh, followed by calmly bitten out words, "Word on the street is you've taken to recruiting the children. I thought we should have a discussion about this."
Shredder	"Are you asking to enlist?" Shredder asks. Wait, was that a joke? Shredder made a joke? His attitude doesn't suggest he found it funny himself. "I enlist all who need a home, those who have been oppressed and need a place to belong," he says. "Those that are beaten and weak, I make strong. Or do you not know how our path came to be? Immigrants, peasants, ronin who had lost standing from their society banding together to fight for themselves."
Elektra Natchios	"Enlist whomever you wish, but leave the children out of it." Her words remain calm, but there is an intense glimmer to her eyes that suggests a passion beneath them that runs deep. "Or do you forget how I came to be?" Again, a cold smile that is hidden beneath her scarf. "I was you, Saki. Do not underestimate what I understand. Your words are a cold comfort and a false promise, trading insecurity for a lifetime of servitude, however willing. Do not even try to suggest to me that that is a better choice."
Shredder	"This is not the Hand," Saki answers. "Those who join do so of their own accord. They earn their place. They earn their family. You forget who you are speaking to. I have been around since long before your grandparents, and I am not a weak-willed old woman like Gao, who puts my trust in empty prophecies." He paces slowly around her, staying at about fifteen feet. The youth look between the two masters. "Um, I thought we were going to train with the Shredder."     Shredder's gaze turns to the boy. "You are bold," he says. "I like that. Willing to step in despite your age, bring yourself up to the standing of an equal." Instead of deriding the interruption, it seems he rather enjoyed it. "Tell me," he says. "What is a ninja?" He glances to Elektra, and back to the boy, waiting to see whether she will answer or wait for him.
Elektra Natchios	"Please. Spare me your semantics," Elektra drawls easily. She does not turn, not even an iota, to acknowledge his pacing about her. Refusing to give him that victory - not that she needs to turn to pinpoint him in space; her senses allow her to locate him quite easily without looking. "There is no accord when your choices are that or the streets. You ask children to make decisions that they are not capable of, and mold them to fit an ideal that they never learn there is another choice to. That isn't free will. That is nothing more than an excuse for servitude coupled with pathetic gratitude for crumbs that you could toss without asking the other." "You create family out of desperation. You forget who you are speaking to, and how I was raised. Do not tell me you are better than they are. You are nothing more than them with a thin veneer of civility giving you a a smug righteousness." She does not answer the question for the boy, both curious to hear what he might say, and not yet ready to play her own hand in this.
Shredder	The boy pauses for several seconds. "A ninja..." he says, "Is honorable. He is silent. Um... smart?"     Shredder doesn't respond immediately. "A ninja is efficient," is the Shredder's reply. "All things are made of desperation," he answers Elektra. "Why should family be any different?" He looks back at the youths. "Did you ask for your situation? Did you? Or you? No. You were not asked. The world does not ask. The world takes. It does not give."     He walks up to another one of the silent students, and places a hand on his shoulder. "Long ago, there were the samurai, who served the feudal lords. They were bound by their 'honor' to do their lord's bidding. Regardless of the integrity or justice, the lords would command them, and they must obey. These samurai prized their honor and tradition like a gem encrusted prison, no matter what atrocities they were bound to commit, or else they would be required to fall on their own sword for failure."     He huffs as he removes his hand back to his side, and begins pacing back the reverse direction. "Fall on their swords if they show mercy to a defenseless child, or help the homeless. For honor. Some samurai realized the horror of what they served, and became outcasts, despised ronin. They banded with peasants, with the downtrodden, and said 'no more.' They would not allow others to be crushed beneath the heel of the lords. The honor of the samurai was a joke in poor taste. The ninja did not prize honor or tradition. They prized the mission. Success at any cost."     The ancient master pointedly looks at Elektra to meet her eyes. "Any cost. To the Samurai, the ninja were abominations, abandoning that which was most sacred. To the ninja, the samurai were just the past, holding to that which must die. So the ninja rose. They increased. Schools became clans. Clans the feudal lords could not ignore, because they were effective. They grew wealthy, and those who were once under a heel were now the heel. They were the Foot." The double meaning not withstanding in his tone.     "Better, worse, honor, righteousness, it is not important. You, though you are young, have seen this to be true. I need not convince you. They are myths proposed to shackle and imprison and oppress. To this day their lies speak in the ears of the commoner, the ears of the 'hero', the ears of the storytellers. I offer no such comforting romanticism. I offer reality. You can be among those who can, and protect those you care about at whatever cost is necessary, or someone opposed to you will."
Elektra Natchios	Elektra laughs. "I'm no child to fool with words, Saki. I lived what you offer. More, even. I understand in my bones things you only spout. You think that offering these things because the world takes makes it justifiable? No. I was not asked. I was taken. I was taken as a child in mourning, having lost all she held dear, and placed in the care of those who spoke those same words, only in a different rhetoric." "We will teach you, they said. We will teach you to take back what they stole. We will teach you to avenge that pain. We will teach you the power that lies within and free you from suffering." "You do not teach integrity. Or choice. Or even honour. You teach obediance to an ideal that is no different than the Samurai, only you call it family. There is nothing you can say of them that would change if you switched words. There is nothing you can say of the Foot clan that would change were you to call them Samurai." The brown of her eyes mets his keenly, and without fear. "Your punishements are as swift as theirs. You ask the same. You would take their family away at the least measure of disobediance. Of free will. There is no walking from that oath. An oath that can't be given freely - there is no understanding of what it means. A child can not understand. A child feels. A child fears. A child seeks only the basest and most primoridal of rewards. They are fed by the here and now. There is no future to a child." "They haven't lived, so how can they fear death? The only fear they hold is for what dwells inside. The need to belong. The grasping and clawing for acceptance and love. The sword you offer is the death of that should they fail." "Do not feed me pretty lines of rhetorica and claim you are guiltless. The shackles you offer are no less real."
Shredder	"That is why the Hand fails. Why they are weak. They teach ignorant obedience. I never punish a loyal member of the Foot for taking initiative, for making their own decisions." He looks back at the youths, who seem dumbfounded at the exchange. "I do kill those who threaten or betray my family," he warns, giving no illusion otherwise."     "Elektra, you never knew the Samurai. Do not tell me whether I am the same or not. I was there." Apparently the comparison is a nerve, his voice grows colder. Still even, there is a tempermental shift in the tone. "You speak out of ignorance."     "Does not understand, does not know future. As if you are animals." He looks at the children as he speaks. "That is what she thinks of you. That is what the world thinks of you. That is why you are given no voice." His finger doesn't move from Elektra, standing now as if an accuser before a judge. "Are you animals? Will you subject yourself to that? Or will you stand before someone who thinks less of you, and demand your voice."     "I'm not an animal!" The girl, who had been quiet until now, calls out, clearly influenced by the speech.
Elektra Natchios	"I speak what I see, Saki," Elektra ennuncaites carefully. "Your rhetoric is the same. All you've done is replace words that sound kinder, gentler. Family for Honour. Acceptance for Obedience." She does not rise to what he says to the youth, keeping as calm as she's been all along. "Do not put words in my mouth and call them mine. I say no such thing. They are not animals, which is why what you do is so reproachable. You ask them for oaths that are not theirs to give. You ask them to sell their adult selves to you for promises offered to children who want nothing more than this dream of Family you offer. You give them the coin they most desperately need and then hold it over them for a choice that wasn't. There is no choice when your choice is what you offer, and fear and hunger, and loneliness, and pain, and death. That is not a freely given choice. Freely given woul say that they have those things and can walk away from them to you without regret. You can not offer up what you do not have." "You do not offer choice. You do not offer free will. A starving dog will eat anything you give it because it starves. It does not mean it loves you." "And you forget, I was not raised by the Hand. Though they are no better. But I undestand intimately what it is you offer these children because I was these children." She addresses the girl. "No. You are not an animal. That is why you deserve so much more than what he offers you."
Shredder	"I tire of your repetition," the Shredder says. He looks back to the children. "You will decide for yourselves. "But this woman is an intruder, and intruders must be expelled." So confident he is in the victory of his speech, he holds out his hand, and closes his fist.     The boys know the order. Attack.     They move as one, bursting forward with the knowledge of their ninjitsu. Hardly experts, but all surprisingly effective for their age and amount of training, it's clear why they were here to begin with. The dark-haired hispanic girl is paralyzed, though. She watches as her peers attack, and looks uncertainly toward Saki.
Elektra Natchios	Elektra's response is perhaps not unexpected after her own rhetoric. Certainly, she can disarm, but she would prefer in this instance, to avoid even that. The attacks are deftly avoided for the most part, and where she can not, she moves to block. Once, with the largest youth, he's taken down, and held to the floor while she looks to Saki. "This is not over, old man. We will have words on this when you do not hide behind what you know I will not harm." Then swiftly as she's put the boy there, Elektra is up, and moving towards the exit, ignoring the startled looks that may come her way. Back turned on the attackers in both a defiant and dismissive manner. She knows they can not harm nor take her down - she's fought better than them, fully trained adults who came at her unarmed self with weapons, and bested each of them in tandem. There is nothing for her to fear here. Only her point to make. The girl, though, she does not attack. She slips from the gym through a back door, and circles the building, hoping to catch the woman. Asking her, "Is it true what you say? Is it?" The question a defiant demand. And much as Elektra tries to shrug off this small, angry shadow that reminds her of herself, the girl will not be swayed. Not without an answer. Elektra forced to drag her along - away from Shredder's overseeing eye, for the girl's safety more than anything else. "You have a name, child?" Elektra more curt than she intends. "Kestrel," the girl says with an uplift of chin that suggests she's chosen her own name, and defying Elektra to gainsay against it. "Very well... Kestrel," Elektra answers with a quiet sigh, turning, knowing the girl will follow whether she wants her to or not. This is only the beginning.