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"Mind suggesting where?" She inquired back at the man who had hissed at her. Her voice surprisingly containing no traces of the usual sarcastic, mocking tone that she exercised so flawlessly over others. Instead, it held a tone of mocking boredom.

"It's not like they knew what they were doing anyway. And what on ((Ergh. Insert planet name here?)) could possibly go wrong?" She asked mildly. A Humanist no doubt... She thought and considered her options. He looked as though he were of noble birth. Or of a highclassed birth. Judging by the seat he takes, he must be close to someone important...

A smile of disgust crept over her face as she noted the evident bloodthirsty looks on several of those that sat in the Amphitheater. No scratch that. At the vast majority of expressions of those in the Amphitheater.

"Looks like I'm not the stupid one," Then flinging an arm out as though surveying the crowd.

"But I'm sure they are"

"If I sicken you so, then I'd inquire as to why you seemed so eager to prevent me from saying more? Yes, I agree. They're leader has died. But at least if they perhaps formatted their plan of attack better...
"I am not here to say they are stupid or anything. I just think they're misguided in their plan of attack. Also, you can not seriously believe their course of action is the right one" She merely stated back. Ignoring the insult.

She knew that many disagreed with her views. But she merely did not care.

"Do they not realise that would their leader be still slive he at least would have been able to format a good and working form of attack?"

Mackenzie went around in his house, with a stick of incense in both hands, spreading the smoke in small lines, making the smell of the burning sticks spread within the abode. He locked his door, and brought out a lantern. He lit two more incense sticks, and put them into the lantern, which hung from a chain. He brought them with him into his meditation chamber. He used the incense to light the hundred and some candles, and sat in the perfect center of the circular room. The dimly lit alcoves and crevices of the walls gave a dreary appearance through the incense smoke. On the ground, white lines of chalk were drawn to cross eachother, each lin marking a seperate direction-North, South, East, and West. One half of the circle, The South half was marked with black charcoal in symbols of different languages, each of the words alluding to death or decay, of moving from this world in order to preserve the sacred cycle. The other half was marked with white chalk, the writs all talking of renewal, birth, the begginning of the cycle. The white half was more North-east, and the black half South-West. Where both halves met, there was a smeared line, and in the exact center was a circular clean spot, which is where Mackenzie sat. He put the lantern down next to him, and crossed his legs. He closed his eyes, touched his index fingers to thumbs on both hands, and leaned his elbows on his knees. He breathed in the smoke deeply, and let it drift out his nose slowly. He was lost in thought.

Justin sat on a bench in the Gardens surrounding the amphitheater. He had not been able to simply leave after what had happened but did need space from people, and even though each bench held at least one occupant and many people were simply walking about, the gardens still held the calm air of order. It was something that a Grand Judicator long before even his grandfather's time had put into effect when the empire was first able to look to things beyond survival.
The Gardens were the original meeting place of Tocasianism, the religion for which the empire had been named after, and had always been a place of contemplation and seclusion from the daily distractions of life. Some said that the spirits of the previous Judicators is what gave the place the unnatural calm.
At that moment, it seemed a great deal of people needed to contemplate almost everything in the world.
For himself, Justin needed to remove himself from all of the conflicting emotions he felt and sit down to sort himself out.
Amidst the soft chirping of birds in the gardens, Justin faintly heard foot steps through the grass.
"Justin..." A tired voice stressing to be soft and soothing to an unnatural extent said behind him. "You were here?"
He nodded absently.
"Then I suppose you saw..."
"What happened to Kurcius?" Justin briskly interrupted without turning.
"To the empire." Was an equally measured reply. "Kurcius never thought in terms of himself but as the empire. What happened to him happened to us and likewise in return."
Justin sat in what would have been an uncomfortable silence had he not been sitting in the serenity of the Gardens.
"When you are bothered by anything you act like this, even when you were little. You need to stop letting your feelings cloud your judgment, even if it is as moving as... this."
Justin turned to face the man speaking to him and said in an irritated tone, "I am no longer a little boy, father."
The aging man moved to his side and Justin gave him room on the bench, where he sat down. "I know you are not."
"Then why are you still treating me like one?"
Justin did not realize how angry he was until he saw the look at his father's face. His cloudy blue-grey eyes lost the life that they usually held and he frowned.
Justin blinked and looked at his father again and realized that he was a different person than he had been six years ago. His hair was thinner and whiter than last they had seen each other and his eyes looked sadder than before, along with a cluster of lines under them.
His father was holding back a great deal of emotion. Not just from what had happened over the past years or even the past hour. He was glad that he was seeing his son for the first time in six years and Justin had spurned him.
"I didn't mean it like that, father." Justin said softly, loosing most of the frustration he had.
"I am glad to see you."
"Me too."
Justin gave his father a hug and held back several tears. After some time, they broke from their embrace and continued talking.
"You have something on your mind?" Justin asked his father.
"Yes, I was wondering if you would like to join me when the Judicators gather later this afternoon."
Justin just looked at his father dumbfounded.
"The Judicators? They were the ones who put pressure on you in the first place about the whole mess. I left because of that. Why are you wanting me to go to a meeting with you?"
"Because some people are even worse than accepting change than you." His father said sadly, "You are a voice of reason, even when you are tearing yourself apart. You can look at something from almost any perspective and rationally argue for it, even if it conflicts with one of your deepest beliefs."
They were silent for a moment before his father added, "Besides, you know Technophilism better than I do. I would like to at least know the ramifications of what I am proposing…"
Justin looked deeply at his father for a moment, before responding, "Okay. I will go with you."

Justin sat quietly behind his father in the gathering room of the Judicators, observing the preceding and taking note of the people.
Each Judicator must have brought at least one companion of some kind or another because there were at least five hundred people gathered in the amphitheater.
A good six hours had passed since mid-day when the head of the empire had been assassinated, allowing the Judicators time to sort out their thoughts and mourn themselves.
Justin noticed that the pool of blood where Kurcius had fallen had not been cleaned, drying into a dark brown stain on the pure marble of the stage. One of his disciple's ideas no doubt.
He scanned the stage which had been moved to accommodate the larger body of people, yet more circular to fit the discussion based setting centering it self around the dried blood. The followers of each faith had divided more or less into their own groupings, focusing around the high priests of the faith, each of which being a Judicator. Surrounding them were the disciples and guests of the faithful as well as a handful of high ranking officials not directly involved with a faith.
He looked from Gaian Hierophant Ixal to the Necroauxist Archon Shyss Tevora, each the pinnacle of their respective faith. In stead of Kurcius, the very disciple whom spoke fervently after his death sat in his place. Since the incident, he had noticeably changed from a raving war monger to the calm and well composed Ultraverister now standing before them.
At first he hid behind the formalities of meeting, but then he dove head first into discussion.
"I have taken the liberty of planning the ceremonies relating to Kurcius' death myself, and if there are no objections, I would prefer to set aside that first order of business."
He paused for barely enough time to say a word, which itself was unnecessary considering that everyone was there to discuss reaction, not a burial ceremony.
"On to what we gathered for..." He said grimly, "How should we classify this assassination? Is this the action of a sole fanatic, or is this a direct attack from the Church of Technophilism?"

(This pause is more or less meant for characters to react of post their feelings, if any.)

((OOC: I believe you are deeply confused about the situation, partly do to my bad explaining skills.

The meeting is taking place in a circle with people split into groups of their own religion. Therefore, Zeera could not be sitting behind Justin.

Also on a *slightly* different topic, I was planning on NPCing all of the heads of state and religion myself because that is the easiest way to make sure that the religion is the way I had planned it to be.
It is fine to control high-er ups, but leave the Archons and High Priests for me, okay?))

Mackenzie entered the capitol city at dusk. The red clouds formed at the opposite side of sky as he. His horse now panted uncontrollably. He had demanded a bette performance out of his horse than it could probably bear. He went to an inn and stable, and payed for his horse to be brushed down and have a place to stay for a night. He exited the stable, and looked at the sky. It was almost night. He decided to get a bite to eat at a tavern, and looked for a cheap one by asking locals.