CourserMan accepted Mime's offer and came closer, though perhaps not as close as she was wanting, but not without keeping an eye on her activities using his decoy as well. When Mime saw that he'd made his choice, she nodded, then opened both hands to show him what he'd won. In both hands was... nothing. He might have known. Still, she continued the charade, taking whatever had been in her right hand and bringing it up to her mouth. Pressing the hand there, she dropped whatever was in her left, then reached around behind her head, making a motion as though she was tying or clamping something there. It didn't appear to be a reference to Shok's mouth binding, as her face hadn't changed to match. While keeping her hand pressed to her mouth, she reached out about a foot away from the wall of her cell and performed an intricate mimicry of turning a spicket... Perhaps a shower head? One could begin to wonder if she had something dirty on her brain... but she simply turned her head back to him and watched.
Breaking the tense silence, Jailbird reappeared inside the room, nearby the spot where she'd been when she jacked out. CourseMan would immediately notice a difference about her: she was wearing something like night-vision goggles on her face, except they were much larger and clunkier, almost like some kind of experimental virtual reality headset. Her focus wasn't on Courser as she re-entered, however; she looked directly into Jailbird's cell. "Oh, crap," she muttered, covering her mouth with her sleeve and grabbing CourseMan by the back of his shirt. With surprising force, she'd attempt to drag him back towards the exit of the room. Whatever other words she might be saying were muffled by the forearm of her navisuit, as she made certain the two of them escaped the room. For CourseMan's part, all he could see was Mime slouching against her cell wall, watching him with a forlorn expression as she had been all along.
"Sorry... I forgot how crafty that damn mime is," Jailbird apologized once they were outside the room. "I almost didn't make it back in time. The mime somehow got a tank of gas in there with her... I've got no idea how or even how long it's been there. See, I knew Mime was keeping some kind of weapons inside her cell, but I had no idea what or where... I finally hooked up with a friend in the Techari family to get this new set of specs made," she explained, tapping the device on her face and finally releasing her hold on CourseMan. "Now I can see what all she's got in there. It's a gas-mask, which she's wearing, a tank of gas, and something like a long rope with a weighted ball at the end. I guess she was using that to discretely move all of the invisible stuff around while I examined the room periodically... But that may not be all she was planning to use it for. Whatever the case, it's not safe to be in there until the gas clears. I'm going to call in a specialist and make sure they get it out of there before I go in and see the damage. But you don't think she'll be able to get out of her cell regardless, right? Did she do anything suspicious before that point?" Jailbird asked, leaning against one wall, looking very out of place with her new headgear. While he talked, she'd get open a small window and begin browsing her contacts for anyone who could be considered a specialist in this sort of thing.
The hall they'd entered now was relatively unremarkable: long, dark, and starkly empty of anything but utilitarian, jail-like grayness. It was a bit eerier than a normal jail, simply because it seemed so empty. CourseMan would need to decide what to say, but also, to decide who he trusted in the matter to begin with. It didn't seem like Jailbird was in any rush to pay him, at any rate, so he may also want to remind her of that condition.
Teksqp Jail House
last edited by
As mime turned up her hands, Courser wasn't exactly surprised to see nothing at all, though it did make him ponder the purpose of the choice while her charade continued. That she actively made motion for dropping the supposed 'contents' of her other hand as she went on might have struck him as odd at any other time, but for this moment he simply appreciated it as the attention to detail of a woman dedicated to her craft. There certainly wasn't the sound of anything hitting the ground, after all. That would have been worrying.
He tilted his head as he watched, and something in his mind whispered that her actions this time around weren't the typical over-exaggerated type, as previously. Something was different about it, but it wasn't enough to trigger any alarm bells for him and he watched on carefully right until the point that Jailbird reappeared and promptly dragged him room the room. Even as the real CourseMan was dragged off and the door shut, the decoy pushed off its place on the wall and walked over to take the place of the original outside Mime's cell. It dropped down to sit in front of the bars, resting its chin in one palm, which was in turn propped on one knee. Leaning forward on his palm, the clone's face was nearly close enough to the bars to touch, but his expression was neutral, perhaps even a bit sad. He raised an eyebrow towards Mime.
"Really?" He didn't say more than that, but his voice came across sounding tried and perhaps a little hurt. If there really was a surprise gas attack, the decoy would at least be able to see if it was having any kind of effect on the other two inmates; being a decoy, of course, he had the good fortune of not actually needing to breathe.
--
Outside, Courser found himself leaning against the opposite wall of the corridor to Jailbird. He folded his arms once she released him. She had a lot of fast explaining to do, and a small, traitorous part of his mind whispered that it was rather convenient, on the whole.
"Quite the opposite, really, SongBird. If you're telling me one of your inmates was known to have viable weapons inside her cell with her, then, aside from wondering why you didn't see fit to tell me that little detail, Mime had a dozen or more perfect opportunities to pull that trick long before you showed up again, but she didn't." He sighed and put one hand to his forehead, affecting an exasperated expression.
"While we're on the point... you 'almost didn't make it back in time'? That sounds like you're saying there was danger that couldn't be handled by the controls you left me with; if there'd been any sign of trouble at all, and I started to get affected in some way that prevented my physically from pushing whatever emergency I needed... well, that's what clones are for. Can't move mountains, but they can handle pushing a button. So if that wasn't enough, or there was a real danger of death or escape... why would you leave a random civilian to it? It'd be a crime against all the ladies of the net world if something untoward were to happen to me, you know." He glanced back towards the door.
"Also, I might add... if whatever Mime was trying to do was intended to knock out, kill or otherwise get her keeper off the field, and you're worried there's a danger of escape while there's no-one actively watching them... isn't that exactly what's happening right now? If that is the case, isn't this the exact kind of situation that the lockdown is for? I'm not trying to pry, Songbird, but there's a lot here that's feeling like it doesn't add up." He shrugged, and made something of an apologetic gesture to her; he wasn't really trying to imply anything, just pointing out why things felt fishy.
He tilted his head as he watched, and something in his mind whispered that her actions this time around weren't the typical over-exaggerated type, as previously. Something was different about it, but it wasn't enough to trigger any alarm bells for him and he watched on carefully right until the point that Jailbird reappeared and promptly dragged him room the room. Even as the real CourseMan was dragged off and the door shut, the decoy pushed off its place on the wall and walked over to take the place of the original outside Mime's cell. It dropped down to sit in front of the bars, resting its chin in one palm, which was in turn propped on one knee. Leaning forward on his palm, the clone's face was nearly close enough to the bars to touch, but his expression was neutral, perhaps even a bit sad. He raised an eyebrow towards Mime.
"Really?" He didn't say more than that, but his voice came across sounding tried and perhaps a little hurt. If there really was a surprise gas attack, the decoy would at least be able to see if it was having any kind of effect on the other two inmates; being a decoy, of course, he had the good fortune of not actually needing to breathe.
--
Outside, Courser found himself leaning against the opposite wall of the corridor to Jailbird. He folded his arms once she released him. She had a lot of fast explaining to do, and a small, traitorous part of his mind whispered that it was rather convenient, on the whole.
"Quite the opposite, really, SongBird. If you're telling me one of your inmates was known to have viable weapons inside her cell with her, then, aside from wondering why you didn't see fit to tell me that little detail, Mime had a dozen or more perfect opportunities to pull that trick long before you showed up again, but she didn't." He sighed and put one hand to his forehead, affecting an exasperated expression.
"While we're on the point... you 'almost didn't make it back in time'? That sounds like you're saying there was danger that couldn't be handled by the controls you left me with; if there'd been any sign of trouble at all, and I started to get affected in some way that prevented my physically from pushing whatever emergency I needed... well, that's what clones are for. Can't move mountains, but they can handle pushing a button. So if that wasn't enough, or there was a real danger of death or escape... why would you leave a random civilian to it? It'd be a crime against all the ladies of the net world if something untoward were to happen to me, you know." He glanced back towards the door.
"Also, I might add... if whatever Mime was trying to do was intended to knock out, kill or otherwise get her keeper off the field, and you're worried there's a danger of escape while there's no-one actively watching them... isn't that exactly what's happening right now? If that is the case, isn't this the exact kind of situation that the lockdown is for? I'm not trying to pry, Songbird, but there's a lot here that's feeling like it doesn't add up." He shrugged, and made something of an apologetic gesture to her; he wasn't really trying to imply anything, just pointing out why things felt fishy.
last edited by
The decoy left in the room after CourseMan was dragged off gave him the unique benefit of insight to the situation after he'd left. The mime continued to stare at him in confusion for a while, perhaps not understanding how he was seemingly immune to the gas she'd let out of the invisible canister, before lowering her eyebrows, seeming to understand the situation. She continued sitting for a moment, the pointed over to the cells next to her again and imitated Shok's face once again. She again made a hanging motion, slumping one shoulder and pulling at an invisible rope above her neck. She patted her fist into her palm twice more, leaning forward so that her face was closer to the decoy's. She slid her finger across her throat slowly; perhaps surprisingly, her lower lip began to tremble as she did so. She imitated doing it again, then again, then smashed her fist down three times more. The shadow around her eyes had begun to smudge slightly as tears threatened to escape from the corners of her eyes... But she wiped them with one sleeve, then rose to her feet, turning her back to the decoy.
With the knowledge that he'd gained from Jailbird, he must recognize that she was currently picking up the length of rope, weighted on one end, that had been mentioned earlier. Mime turned back around, adopting a sporty stance, and began swinging the rope at her side, picking up speed at a steady pace. At this point, the clone had to figure he was about to either get lassoed or hit by the weight on the end of the rope; there was no telling which, at least not without the benefit of sound to tell him whether a heavy weight was swinging or a loose end of rope. Alternatively, she might be planning to do something else with the tool...
It looked like Gala had stopped moving in her cell, but no sounds of pain had come from there. Furthermore, no signs of orgasm had come from there. It was a safe bet that she'd fallen asleep. Shok, on the other hand, was still beating herself against the bars of her cell, but the gas might not have reached her just yet, depending on how much was coming out and at what speed.
-------------------
Back outside, Jailbird looked just as confused as Mime had when she'd seen the clone stay in the room, although Jailbird's reason for confusion was different. "Uh, you could just thank me for saving you from that mime! Sheesh," she criticized, not taking the accusations gracefully. "Look, I did tell you when you came in... Not only did I say that all three were murderous, but didn't I even mention that the mime can make invisible weapons? I told you to stay away from the cells... Past that, I even checked the cells, lots of times! Like I said, she was using the rope as a pulley to keep the tank out of my reach so I wouldn't find it when I searched... That's all I can figure, since one end of the rope was tied to the tank I saw," she explained, sounding offended but also as though she had a vested interest in not being guilty of negligence here, despite the fact that just asking some random GNA hire to watch suspected murderers for you was pretty unsafe to begin with. "I don't know how she got the weapons in there to begin with, though. I thought all her powers remain sealed so long as she's inside that cell..."
His second accusation caused her to gulp; she might be happy that she had the goggles on to hide most of her face. "Those controls there are foolproof, c'mon..." she defended, crossing her hands behind the back of her head. "I left you to it because... Well... Nobody else in the Mafia will do this job. I don't even want to do it, myself! And I've got so little money to pay somebody that it had to be someone who said they wanted quick, cheap work... Not a lot of people take mission requests and ask not to be paid a lot, you know," Jailbird continued.
The last words really caused her to frown, though. "Well, what am I supposed to do? I'm not going back in there with all of that gas in there! It could be anything from helium, to knockout gas, to laughing gas, or even something like poison gas! It ain't safe to be in there right now..." the jailer responded, inspecting a makeshift knife that she'd produced from behind her head, perhaps in an attempt to look casual. "You're right, we need to hit that lockdown button, if we can. But we can't, not with that gas in there. Instead, let's wait for the specialist to get here. Don't worry... I didn't see anything in that cell that Mime would be able to use to actually escape her cell. She was probably just trying to commit wanton murder of mafioso, like she used to do in the past... Sorry, I know that's not really comforting," she coughed, although her small frown made it look like she was more worried that she'd be called out for putting him in a deadly position again. "The best thing we can do is watch this door and make sure nobody goes in or out while we wait for the specialist I just called to get here, capiche?"
With the knowledge that he'd gained from Jailbird, he must recognize that she was currently picking up the length of rope, weighted on one end, that had been mentioned earlier. Mime turned back around, adopting a sporty stance, and began swinging the rope at her side, picking up speed at a steady pace. At this point, the clone had to figure he was about to either get lassoed or hit by the weight on the end of the rope; there was no telling which, at least not without the benefit of sound to tell him whether a heavy weight was swinging or a loose end of rope. Alternatively, she might be planning to do something else with the tool...
It looked like Gala had stopped moving in her cell, but no sounds of pain had come from there. Furthermore, no signs of orgasm had come from there. It was a safe bet that she'd fallen asleep. Shok, on the other hand, was still beating herself against the bars of her cell, but the gas might not have reached her just yet, depending on how much was coming out and at what speed.
-------------------
Back outside, Jailbird looked just as confused as Mime had when she'd seen the clone stay in the room, although Jailbird's reason for confusion was different. "Uh, you could just thank me for saving you from that mime! Sheesh," she criticized, not taking the accusations gracefully. "Look, I did tell you when you came in... Not only did I say that all three were murderous, but didn't I even mention that the mime can make invisible weapons? I told you to stay away from the cells... Past that, I even checked the cells, lots of times! Like I said, she was using the rope as a pulley to keep the tank out of my reach so I wouldn't find it when I searched... That's all I can figure, since one end of the rope was tied to the tank I saw," she explained, sounding offended but also as though she had a vested interest in not being guilty of negligence here, despite the fact that just asking some random GNA hire to watch suspected murderers for you was pretty unsafe to begin with. "I don't know how she got the weapons in there to begin with, though. I thought all her powers remain sealed so long as she's inside that cell..."
His second accusation caused her to gulp; she might be happy that she had the goggles on to hide most of her face. "Those controls there are foolproof, c'mon..." she defended, crossing her hands behind the back of her head. "I left you to it because... Well... Nobody else in the Mafia will do this job. I don't even want to do it, myself! And I've got so little money to pay somebody that it had to be someone who said they wanted quick, cheap work... Not a lot of people take mission requests and ask not to be paid a lot, you know," Jailbird continued.
The last words really caused her to frown, though. "Well, what am I supposed to do? I'm not going back in there with all of that gas in there! It could be anything from helium, to knockout gas, to laughing gas, or even something like poison gas! It ain't safe to be in there right now..." the jailer responded, inspecting a makeshift knife that she'd produced from behind her head, perhaps in an attempt to look casual. "You're right, we need to hit that lockdown button, if we can. But we can't, not with that gas in there. Instead, let's wait for the specialist to get here. Don't worry... I didn't see anything in that cell that Mime would be able to use to actually escape her cell. She was probably just trying to commit wanton murder of mafioso, like she used to do in the past... Sorry, I know that's not really comforting," she coughed, although her small frown made it look like she was more worried that she'd be called out for putting him in a deadly position again. "The best thing we can do is watch this door and make sure nobody goes in or out while we wait for the specialist I just called to get here, capiche?"
last edited by
Honestly, Courser had been expecting that Jailbird might get a bit defensive of his comments, but a part of him was still struck by the convenience of the situation, in some ways, so he didn't offer any further apology than he already had. Instead he nodded, smirking as she verbally ran damage control.
"Cute. If you don't mind my saying, it sounds like the Mafia is in a bit of a mess right now. Sounds like the ones behind the bars aren't the only ones in need of help..." He sighed softly and shook his head. "Look, whatever, keep your money if you're as broke as that, let's just get this sorted out, alright? Mime seems to be implying that whatever she's done, it'll kill Shok, at least, or so she hopes. The lock down should still prevent that, yeah? We're both safe out here? Then that's settled..." She'd already said that the lock down was desirable at this point so, if she was affirmative, that really only left CourseMan with one proper option. As much as he hadn't attempted to press any of the buttons yet, he believed he'd been fibbing when he told Gala that his decoys couldn't manage it; a single press of a button or flip of a lever was something he felt confident he could manage. His face was more serious and less overtly flirtatious at this point, though he was trying to at least keep his words friendly.
Part of his 'let's fix this' attitude had sprung up from what he was getting from his clone; as part of her thing, so far, Mime had been very determined to not show any emotions besides those she wanted to communicate, but this, like her soft blushes earlier, was clearly different. A thought had been forming as he watched her, and the decoy stood, though he didn't shy away from her potentially threatening actions.
"This whole mess has pretty much ruined your life, hasn't it?" He tilted his head, looking at her side-on for a moment. "Looks like it doesn't really matter what you were before, this has spiralled into the black mark of the century, right?" If whatever she was doing turned out to be directed at him in someway, Courser would do his best to keep the decoy together through it; sometimes he could manage to, depending on how rough the hit. If not, though he was already using his first clone as mark for bringing in a fresh one, which could simply replace his primary if it got destroyed. If it was a serious blow designed to disperse the decoy, Courser himself would likely wince, outside the cells, in between reforming, but he didn't indulge Jailbird in an explanation.
The decoy, whichever it was, just watched Mime for a moment longer. his hands were behind his back as he spoke, and his expression was calm.
"Maybe you were prepared to get me killed or worse, just now, and maybe you weren't. Doesn't matter. I'm serious about meeting you properly, once you get out, but I'm not going to let you make things any worse for yourself if I can help it... So your revenge is going to have to wait. I'm sorry."
After speaking, the decoy bowed its head, fading from sight as it reformed near the control panels. This bit took more focus, and Courser himself closed his own eyes as he concentrated, reaching out to activate the panic button for the prison. Hopefully it wasn't too stiff; it was like he told Jailbird: they couldn't' move mountains, but he was sure he could manage a button press. Now he just had to hope that Jailbird herself was right about how effective at containing things the button was.
"Cute. If you don't mind my saying, it sounds like the Mafia is in a bit of a mess right now. Sounds like the ones behind the bars aren't the only ones in need of help..." He sighed softly and shook his head. "Look, whatever, keep your money if you're as broke as that, let's just get this sorted out, alright? Mime seems to be implying that whatever she's done, it'll kill Shok, at least, or so she hopes. The lock down should still prevent that, yeah? We're both safe out here? Then that's settled..." She'd already said that the lock down was desirable at this point so, if she was affirmative, that really only left CourseMan with one proper option. As much as he hadn't attempted to press any of the buttons yet, he believed he'd been fibbing when he told Gala that his decoys couldn't manage it; a single press of a button or flip of a lever was something he felt confident he could manage. His face was more serious and less overtly flirtatious at this point, though he was trying to at least keep his words friendly.
Part of his 'let's fix this' attitude had sprung up from what he was getting from his clone; as part of her thing, so far, Mime had been very determined to not show any emotions besides those she wanted to communicate, but this, like her soft blushes earlier, was clearly different. A thought had been forming as he watched her, and the decoy stood, though he didn't shy away from her potentially threatening actions.
"This whole mess has pretty much ruined your life, hasn't it?" He tilted his head, looking at her side-on for a moment. "Looks like it doesn't really matter what you were before, this has spiralled into the black mark of the century, right?" If whatever she was doing turned out to be directed at him in someway, Courser would do his best to keep the decoy together through it; sometimes he could manage to, depending on how rough the hit. If not, though he was already using his first clone as mark for bringing in a fresh one, which could simply replace his primary if it got destroyed. If it was a serious blow designed to disperse the decoy, Courser himself would likely wince, outside the cells, in between reforming, but he didn't indulge Jailbird in an explanation.
The decoy, whichever it was, just watched Mime for a moment longer. his hands were behind his back as he spoke, and his expression was calm.
"Maybe you were prepared to get me killed or worse, just now, and maybe you weren't. Doesn't matter. I'm serious about meeting you properly, once you get out, but I'm not going to let you make things any worse for yourself if I can help it... So your revenge is going to have to wait. I'm sorry."
After speaking, the decoy bowed its head, fading from sight as it reformed near the control panels. This bit took more focus, and Courser himself closed his own eyes as he concentrated, reaching out to activate the panic button for the prison. Hopefully it wasn't too stiff; it was like he told Jailbird: they couldn't' move mountains, but he was sure he could manage a button press. Now he just had to hope that Jailbird herself was right about how effective at containing things the button was.
last edited by
"Hey, that's the Mafia. A little chaos is to be expected! If they we were all about accountability and best practices and whatever, we'd be the NetPolice instead... Unfortunately, that extends to gross neglect of this special prison," Jailbird responded, proving she was not the right person to call if you were looking for defense in a case. "Neglect on the part of my superiors, I mean, not me. I'm doing everything I can here, you know? Best I can with what's given to me," she complained, taking another nervous look at the door they'd just come out of. "But uh... I'm still paying you. I mean, that's not just a matter of the Mafia; if I don't pay you, I get a mark of 'bad credit' with the GNA, who I sent this mission through. The GNA's a huge corporation now, so nobody wants to be on their black list," the Jailer explained, although she'd hesitated a bit. It was clear she would have been interested in taking him up on the free labor prospect if she thought she could. She further nodded along with all of his inquiries regarding whether or not the maximum security lock-down would be as effective as she'd implied it would.
The mime continued swinging her rope, watching CourseMan warily. She nodded slowly, in regards to the 'black mark of the century' comment. However, when he got to the point of saying that revenge would have to wait, she shook her head again, then seemed to fling forward her rope. Unfortunately, whatever she'd been wanting to happen seemed to fail; she winced visibly, then drew back in the rope and started swinging it again. As soon as he appeared over at the console and went to hit the maximum security button, however, she shook her head more vigorously and dropped the rope, clutching onto both cell bars. The deed was done, however, and a blaring loud alarm sounded, sounding especially unpleasant in the close confines of the jail house. Red lights began to flash throughout the jail, not coming from an actual light source, but rather, changing the net space around them all. Mime drew back her hands as metallic shutters closed over each of the cells; CourseMan would see an additional set close over each side of the door as well. While they didn't look much thicker than ordinary steel, chances were that looks were deceptive; these had apparently been designed by the jail's creators to keep all parties inside or out respectively.
On the other side, Jailbird covered her ears for a bit, before seeming to adjust to the volume. She leaned in close to shout in CourseMan's ear. "OKAY! SO YOU ACTIVATED THE MAXIMUM SECURITY?!" she called out, still somehow sounding bored. "THAT'LL GIVE THE GAS SPECIALIST TIME TO GET HERE. THOUGH HE WON'T BE ABLE TO GET IN. ANYWAY HE'LL CLEAR THE ROOM ONCE THE LOCK DROPS, THEN I'LL GO IN AND CONFISCATE MIME'S STUFF. SO THANKS." She finished, drawing back to cover her ears again. Thinking of something else to add, she walked in closer again. "SHOULD I PAY YOU NOW? YOU CAN'T LEAVE YET. IT SUCKS, BUT THE LOCK DOWN, YOU KNOW?" Not waiting for an answer (or perhaps not wanting to uncover her ears to here it), Jailbird produced a small data packet. Because she hadn't moved her hands to hand it to him, it instead fell to the ground at their feet. Whether or not that was actually all of her money was anyone's question, though CourseMan certainly had time to negotiate, if he wanted. At this point, he could either find a nice conversation topic that he didn't mind yelling over blaring alarms about, or simply sit contentedly and wait for the darn jackout barrier to vanish.
*CourseMan gets 3130 zenny*
The mime continued swinging her rope, watching CourseMan warily. She nodded slowly, in regards to the 'black mark of the century' comment. However, when he got to the point of saying that revenge would have to wait, she shook her head again, then seemed to fling forward her rope. Unfortunately, whatever she'd been wanting to happen seemed to fail; she winced visibly, then drew back in the rope and started swinging it again. As soon as he appeared over at the console and went to hit the maximum security button, however, she shook her head more vigorously and dropped the rope, clutching onto both cell bars. The deed was done, however, and a blaring loud alarm sounded, sounding especially unpleasant in the close confines of the jail house. Red lights began to flash throughout the jail, not coming from an actual light source, but rather, changing the net space around them all. Mime drew back her hands as metallic shutters closed over each of the cells; CourseMan would see an additional set close over each side of the door as well. While they didn't look much thicker than ordinary steel, chances were that looks were deceptive; these had apparently been designed by the jail's creators to keep all parties inside or out respectively.
On the other side, Jailbird covered her ears for a bit, before seeming to adjust to the volume. She leaned in close to shout in CourseMan's ear. "OKAY! SO YOU ACTIVATED THE MAXIMUM SECURITY?!" she called out, still somehow sounding bored. "THAT'LL GIVE THE GAS SPECIALIST TIME TO GET HERE. THOUGH HE WON'T BE ABLE TO GET IN. ANYWAY HE'LL CLEAR THE ROOM ONCE THE LOCK DROPS, THEN I'LL GO IN AND CONFISCATE MIME'S STUFF. SO THANKS." She finished, drawing back to cover her ears again. Thinking of something else to add, she walked in closer again. "SHOULD I PAY YOU NOW? YOU CAN'T LEAVE YET. IT SUCKS, BUT THE LOCK DOWN, YOU KNOW?" Not waiting for an answer (or perhaps not wanting to uncover her ears to here it), Jailbird produced a small data packet. Because she hadn't moved her hands to hand it to him, it instead fell to the ground at their feet. Whether or not that was actually all of her money was anyone's question, though CourseMan certainly had time to negotiate, if he wanted. At this point, he could either find a nice conversation topic that he didn't mind yelling over blaring alarms about, or simply sit contentedly and wait for the darn jackout barrier to vanish.
*CourseMan gets 3130 zenny*
last edited by
The look of momentary desperation from Mime might have given Courser pause before pressing the button, but not enough to stop him; for all he knew, not acting was liable to mean the deaths of the other two inmates, and whether he had any right to be in this position or not, it wasn't something he wanted on his conscience. With the beginning of the alarms, however, his split focus more or less shattered and the clone was left to dissipate into formless shadow again.
Outside, the original CourseMan had braced himself for alarm just before pushing the button, but he still wasn't quite ready for the blaring siren that accompanied the full lock down. About to reassure Jailbird that refusing the money was his own action, and he'd be sure to tell the GNA such, the thought was derailed before he could voice it. Like Jailbird, he instead put hands to his ears at first, but uncovered one enough to let her lean close. Again she brought up the money question, and he tried to shake his head, before she produced the packet and, lacking a free hand, let it tumble to the ground between them. With the distance between them closed as it was, in the hallway, Courser wound up very close to his employer as he crouched to retrieve it, but he held onto it rather than simply receiving the data fully. When he stood again, it was in a way that deliberately brought him closer to Jailbird's body, sliding upright smoothly and leaning in with a slight tilt of his head.
At first it might have seemed as though he was teasing a kiss, but even if she had gone for it, unlikely as that was, and more importantly before she could react negatively either, the flirtatious navi had turned his head to the side as well, to bring his lips close by one of her ears and cupping his free hand to the exposed side of his mouth to help the sound, so that he could talk. With any luck, she'd extend him the courtesy of uncovering one ear enough to hear him; with his lips right by her ear, he'd be able to talk relatively softly and still be heard underneath the blaring alarm. His ears were beginning to dull to the sound, and he could feel muscles he would normally associate with wincing tightening up to restrict the amount of raw sound flooding in. It was bearable at least.
If she was interested in that kind of thing, Jailbird might detect a fresh scent, like cool, clear water, while she was this close to him. Just so long as she wasn't actively trying to beat him away or shiv him, however, he held the data packet she'd offered between them, pressing the hand holding it gently against her middle as long as he was standing in close to her like that.
"Like I said... If you're struggling yourself, I don't want to take this from you. I'll tell the GNA that it was payment rendered on site. I just needed a distraction, Songbird, and you gave me one, and now I've caused you a bit of a headache to boot. Feels more like I owe you, than the other way around." He paused for a moment, taking a slow breath and letting it out again before he continued.
"If it would make you happier that I take it, then I will, but my life's pretty comfortable... and it sounds like yours might not be. So... you can keep it, if you want. All for a song, as they say." With any luck, the simple sensation of feeling his hand holding the packet pressed on her middle would have made the warden lift her own hand to the spot; if she did, he'd be able to step back and leave it with her, an incorrigible smile showing one side of his teeth despite the uncomfortable noise of the situation as he leaned against the wall.
In one part of his mind he knew that he'd been away long enough that Jenny was probably wanting to check in on him, and she might well be freaking out over the jack our barrier that they were both now contained by, but it would just have to wait. He also knew that Jailbird had made mention that she was 'kinda' seeing someone else as well, but still decided to wait and see how she responded to his flirtations before trying to ask her about anything else while they waited.
((CourseMan is offering Jailbird a take-back on the payment, with all assurances of reward rendered, but will accept it properly if she insists.))
Outside, the original CourseMan had braced himself for alarm just before pushing the button, but he still wasn't quite ready for the blaring siren that accompanied the full lock down. About to reassure Jailbird that refusing the money was his own action, and he'd be sure to tell the GNA such, the thought was derailed before he could voice it. Like Jailbird, he instead put hands to his ears at first, but uncovered one enough to let her lean close. Again she brought up the money question, and he tried to shake his head, before she produced the packet and, lacking a free hand, let it tumble to the ground between them. With the distance between them closed as it was, in the hallway, Courser wound up very close to his employer as he crouched to retrieve it, but he held onto it rather than simply receiving the data fully. When he stood again, it was in a way that deliberately brought him closer to Jailbird's body, sliding upright smoothly and leaning in with a slight tilt of his head.
At first it might have seemed as though he was teasing a kiss, but even if she had gone for it, unlikely as that was, and more importantly before she could react negatively either, the flirtatious navi had turned his head to the side as well, to bring his lips close by one of her ears and cupping his free hand to the exposed side of his mouth to help the sound, so that he could talk. With any luck, she'd extend him the courtesy of uncovering one ear enough to hear him; with his lips right by her ear, he'd be able to talk relatively softly and still be heard underneath the blaring alarm. His ears were beginning to dull to the sound, and he could feel muscles he would normally associate with wincing tightening up to restrict the amount of raw sound flooding in. It was bearable at least.
If she was interested in that kind of thing, Jailbird might detect a fresh scent, like cool, clear water, while she was this close to him. Just so long as she wasn't actively trying to beat him away or shiv him, however, he held the data packet she'd offered between them, pressing the hand holding it gently against her middle as long as he was standing in close to her like that.
"Like I said... If you're struggling yourself, I don't want to take this from you. I'll tell the GNA that it was payment rendered on site. I just needed a distraction, Songbird, and you gave me one, and now I've caused you a bit of a headache to boot. Feels more like I owe you, than the other way around." He paused for a moment, taking a slow breath and letting it out again before he continued.
"If it would make you happier that I take it, then I will, but my life's pretty comfortable... and it sounds like yours might not be. So... you can keep it, if you want. All for a song, as they say." With any luck, the simple sensation of feeling his hand holding the packet pressed on her middle would have made the warden lift her own hand to the spot; if she did, he'd be able to step back and leave it with her, an incorrigible smile showing one side of his teeth despite the uncomfortable noise of the situation as he leaned against the wall.
In one part of his mind he knew that he'd been away long enough that Jenny was probably wanting to check in on him, and she might well be freaking out over the jack our barrier that they were both now contained by, but it would just have to wait. He also knew that Jailbird had made mention that she was 'kinda' seeing someone else as well, but still decided to wait and see how she responded to his flirtations before trying to ask her about anything else while they waited.
((CourseMan is offering Jailbird a take-back on the payment, with all assurances of reward rendered, but will accept it properly if she insists.))
last edited by
Jailbird reacted as dully to the romantic wiles of CourseMan as Gala had implied that she would, frowning blankly as the navi whispered into her ear; she uncovered the ear to allow him to do so. She moved the now free hand back to the data packet he was pressing to her abdomen. "Okay, fine, I'll take it back... But I'm not singing for you," she responded, vaguely difficult to hear as her mouth was not held particularly close to CourseMan's ear. "How about this: at least take a few weapons of mine. If nothing else, you can sell them off..." the jailer murmured, dropping a new data packet for him to accept. "I'm in debt to enough people already, believe me."
*CourseMan acquired FireBomb1 and RageClaw1!*
The mission requester was not too proud to put back up the money she'd offered initially. Her frown was still the same; the giant goggle set she'd purchased made it hard to tell if her expression had softened otherwise. "Okay... Now we shut up and wait," she insisted, putting some distance between the two of them and leaning back against a wall. She had moved both hands back to her ears, so it would be impossible to converse with her for any longer until the alarm lifted...
--------------------
The lockdown went on for a good while, easily long enough for CourseMan to perhaps ponder what kept Mime from carrying out whatever she'd intended to do before the lockdown once it ended. Thankfully, almost as soon as the alarms stopped, another navi appeared from around a nearby corner, which he'd seen led into a dark hallway. The navi was an eerie looking guy, dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit that made him look more like a bug exterminator than a gas specialist. Thankfully, he was, at least, wearing a gas-mask, which was strapped onto his face, the bands locked around a black hood that covered the rest of his head. A giant tank on his back displayed his emblem, a circle with a crossed section bisecting an insect. It really seemed that he was an exterminator. "Finally... There's the gas specialist," Jailbird confirmed. The guy nodded wordlessly, then gave a thumbs-up; heavy breathing could be heard from behind his mask, sucking in breath with a gross, nasally sound. "She's all yours," Jailbird confirmed, placing one hand upon the door before backing away and covering her mouth and nose with her shirt sleeve as a precaution.
Without the alarms blaring, it was easy to talk, even with her mouth covered. "Okay, that's it. Nobody should spend as much time in a jail as I do... So don't start. You can go ahead and get gone," she finished, keeping her eyes on CourseMan (at some point, she'd taken off the bulky goggles, which had looked too uncomfortable to wear for the entirety of the lockdown to begin with). "Don't worry, I'll go in once the majority of the gas is gone and make sure that mime isn't killing our gas specialist."
*CourseMan acquired FireBomb1 and RageClaw1!*
The mission requester was not too proud to put back up the money she'd offered initially. Her frown was still the same; the giant goggle set she'd purchased made it hard to tell if her expression had softened otherwise. "Okay... Now we shut up and wait," she insisted, putting some distance between the two of them and leaning back against a wall. She had moved both hands back to her ears, so it would be impossible to converse with her for any longer until the alarm lifted...
--------------------
The lockdown went on for a good while, easily long enough for CourseMan to perhaps ponder what kept Mime from carrying out whatever she'd intended to do before the lockdown once it ended. Thankfully, almost as soon as the alarms stopped, another navi appeared from around a nearby corner, which he'd seen led into a dark hallway. The navi was an eerie looking guy, dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit that made him look more like a bug exterminator than a gas specialist. Thankfully, he was, at least, wearing a gas-mask, which was strapped onto his face, the bands locked around a black hood that covered the rest of his head. A giant tank on his back displayed his emblem, a circle with a crossed section bisecting an insect. It really seemed that he was an exterminator. "Finally... There's the gas specialist," Jailbird confirmed. The guy nodded wordlessly, then gave a thumbs-up; heavy breathing could be heard from behind his mask, sucking in breath with a gross, nasally sound. "She's all yours," Jailbird confirmed, placing one hand upon the door before backing away and covering her mouth and nose with her shirt sleeve as a precaution.
Without the alarms blaring, it was easy to talk, even with her mouth covered. "Okay, that's it. Nobody should spend as much time in a jail as I do... So don't start. You can go ahead and get gone," she finished, keeping her eyes on CourseMan (at some point, she'd taken off the bulky goggles, which had looked too uncomfortable to wear for the entirety of the lockdown to begin with). "Don't worry, I'll go in once the majority of the gas is gone and make sure that mime isn't killing our gas specialist."
last edited by Rogan
Alas for the charmer, Jailbird wasn't going to play back at him it seemed. It was largely to be expected, perhaps, and the siren didn't help, but Courser was still a little disappointed that his gentlemanly flirting wasn't going to get a smile out of her. Whoever she was crushing on was probably a keeper, if she was that resistant. Oh well. At this point she was insitant about offering some kind of reward, and it was pushing the border of rude if he tried to decline again so instead the pretty boy inclined his head and accepted her renewed offer with a smile.
"If you insist and it makes you happy, Songbird, then thank you. I'll put them to good use." No telling how much of that she'd get over the siren, but at the very least his grace in acceptance should be clear. Either way, though, it seemed she had no interest in talking further until the alarm shut off and things calmed down. Calm being subjective; Courser was quite aware that jenny was likely growing increasingly distressed as the minutes passed, but there wasn't anything he could do. At last, quiet returned and things seemed to get going again.
CourseMan stood straighter for a moment, to let the specialist pass. Mentally he took it as a sign of Jailbird's own struggling means that her 'specialist' looked more like an everyday exterminator; qualified to work with gas, no doubt, but probably not the most ideal person for the job. Still, he wasn't about to say anything; if for no other reason that because doing so would probably come off hurtful no matter how he said it.
Beside him, a clone had slipped out of the wall, and was leaning with its hands behind its head. It looked briefly at Jailbird, the across to courser himself.
"Well boss... she shot you down, now what, huh?" Without really thinking about it, Courser reacted, turning his gaze to the side.
"Don't say that, I'm just being polite."
"Oh aye... Polite is her telling you she's already got her eye on a fella, and you still trying to pour on the charm like that anyway? Hah!" A second clone and joined in on the other side, though it was facing courser directly, leaning against the wall on one shoulder with its arms folded and a mocking smirk.
"There's nothing wrong with being a gentleman and trying to have a care for others who aren't as well off, now would you—" at that moment, Courser realised he'd been drawn into another argument with his own clones, and promptly clicked his teeth shut, dispelling both of the decoys and putting and hand to his face for a moment. After a slow breath he looked up again.
"Sorry... Anyway... Thank you Jailbird, and best of luck in the future. I hope the rest of this all goes well for you. Maybe I'll see you again some day. I've been thinking... If I'm destined for the nut house anyway, well... maybe your family might have a use for someone like me." He shrugged softly and grinned for her again, showing a flash of teeth. "Until next time. Take care, Songbird."
Unless Jailbird spoke up or gave him a reason to stay longer, Courser went ahead and jacked out, relieved to find the process still fully functional after the lock out dropped. If his employer had anything to say, of course, he'd stick around to hear it, but it sounded like she was eager to see him go, and he wasn't about to overstay.
((CourseMan accepting reward and jacking out, after anything else jailbird has to say. Returning to -> Jenny's PET))
"If you insist and it makes you happy, Songbird, then thank you. I'll put them to good use." No telling how much of that she'd get over the siren, but at the very least his grace in acceptance should be clear. Either way, though, it seemed she had no interest in talking further until the alarm shut off and things calmed down. Calm being subjective; Courser was quite aware that jenny was likely growing increasingly distressed as the minutes passed, but there wasn't anything he could do. At last, quiet returned and things seemed to get going again.
CourseMan stood straighter for a moment, to let the specialist pass. Mentally he took it as a sign of Jailbird's own struggling means that her 'specialist' looked more like an everyday exterminator; qualified to work with gas, no doubt, but probably not the most ideal person for the job. Still, he wasn't about to say anything; if for no other reason that because doing so would probably come off hurtful no matter how he said it.
Beside him, a clone had slipped out of the wall, and was leaning with its hands behind its head. It looked briefly at Jailbird, the across to courser himself.
"Well boss... she shot you down, now what, huh?" Without really thinking about it, Courser reacted, turning his gaze to the side.
"Don't say that, I'm just being polite."
"Oh aye... Polite is her telling you she's already got her eye on a fella, and you still trying to pour on the charm like that anyway? Hah!" A second clone and joined in on the other side, though it was facing courser directly, leaning against the wall on one shoulder with its arms folded and a mocking smirk.
"There's nothing wrong with being a gentleman and trying to have a care for others who aren't as well off, now would you—" at that moment, Courser realised he'd been drawn into another argument with his own clones, and promptly clicked his teeth shut, dispelling both of the decoys and putting and hand to his face for a moment. After a slow breath he looked up again.
"Sorry... Anyway... Thank you Jailbird, and best of luck in the future. I hope the rest of this all goes well for you. Maybe I'll see you again some day. I've been thinking... If I'm destined for the nut house anyway, well... maybe your family might have a use for someone like me." He shrugged softly and grinned for her again, showing a flash of teeth. "Until next time. Take care, Songbird."
Unless Jailbird spoke up or gave him a reason to stay longer, Courser went ahead and jacked out, relieved to find the process still fully functional after the lock out dropped. If his employer had anything to say, of course, he'd stick around to hear it, but it sounded like she was eager to see him go, and he wasn't about to overstay.
((CourseMan accepting reward and jacking out, after anything else jailbird has to say. Returning to -> Jenny's PET))
last edited by
Jailbird nodded quietly as Courser accepted her gift. She probably would have added a lazy joke about how luckily they weren't very technical tools, so it ought to be easy to make good use of them, but it was far too loud in the jail to bother. As the alarms began to settle down, Jailbird watched Courser have some rather unflattering arguments with himself and understood very little of it, raising her eyebrows and not doing the courtesy of letting him have his privacy. He apologized, which solicited a shrug from Jailbird, and then offered his services to Teksqp in the future if the opportunity arose, to which she crossed her arms and nodded slowly.
"Well, you didn't let loose the three prisoners, or for that matter kill or injure any of them, which is better than half of the actual Teksqp members would have done. So yeah, if you're ever in the mood, I'll see that you're set up with a good recruitment mission and not something like... 'juggle torches while standing outside the Neo-Shogun public camp' or 'head to the NetPolice HQ and paint all of their white concrete black.' Unless that's what you want to do. They might think those are pretty good missions, honestly," she mused. "Anyways, yeah. Later."
CourseMan took his leave as Jailbird retook her spot standing against the wall, threatening to fall asleep standing up as she waited for the 'gas specialist' to finish his work.
((CourseMan received FXP: 13 Mime, 10 Gala, 5 Jailbird, 4 Shok))
"Well, you didn't let loose the three prisoners, or for that matter kill or injure any of them, which is better than half of the actual Teksqp members would have done. So yeah, if you're ever in the mood, I'll see that you're set up with a good recruitment mission and not something like... 'juggle torches while standing outside the Neo-Shogun public camp' or 'head to the NetPolice HQ and paint all of their white concrete black.' Unless that's what you want to do. They might think those are pretty good missions, honestly," she mused. "Anyways, yeah. Later."
CourseMan took his leave as Jailbird retook her spot standing against the wall, threatening to fall asleep standing up as she waited for the 'gas specialist' to finish his work.
((CourseMan received FXP: 13 Mime, 10 Gala, 5 Jailbird, 4 Shok))
last edited by Rogan
((From -> Jenny's Home))
It was some time later when CourseMan fund himself return into the same jail block that he'd previously spent time in, dabbling in Net Mafia politics and intrigue. He sent a last note to Jenny, letting her know that he was situated safely, and then closed out the communication and locked out communications from his end. It wouldn't be for long, and there was no way he was letting the girl get involved in any of this.
With that done, she rolled his shoulders and straightened his coat. He's simply followed back the old address the way he'd gone last time, and so expected to have arrived in the hall just prior to the emergency lock out and the cells beyond. If the address had redirected him this time, he'd have to get his bearings afresh, but considering how disorganised the Mafia's welcome had been last time, he wasn't expecting it. He looked around for whoever was meant to be his formal contact in this matter, expression serious, but relaxed, with just the hint of a smile at one corner of his lips.
Idly, the charmer wondered to himself whether Mime had gotten his gift properly, and if she'd gotten out yet. The job information had implied not, but he still held a small hope for it.
It was some time later when CourseMan fund himself return into the same jail block that he'd previously spent time in, dabbling in Net Mafia politics and intrigue. He sent a last note to Jenny, letting her know that he was situated safely, and then closed out the communication and locked out communications from his end. It wouldn't be for long, and there was no way he was letting the girl get involved in any of this.
With that done, she rolled his shoulders and straightened his coat. He's simply followed back the old address the way he'd gone last time, and so expected to have arrived in the hall just prior to the emergency lock out and the cells beyond. If the address had redirected him this time, he'd have to get his bearings afresh, but considering how disorganised the Mafia's welcome had been last time, he wasn't expecting it. He looked around for whoever was meant to be his formal contact in this matter, expression serious, but relaxed, with just the hint of a smile at one corner of his lips.
Idly, the charmer wondered to himself whether Mime had gotten his gift properly, and if she'd gotten out yet. The job information had implied not, but he still held a small hope for it.
last edited by
The coordinates CourseMan received, curiously, did indeed deposit him back in the same hallway where he'd started last time... a little strange, considering his employer was different this time. However, following the path he knew would lead him to a familiar scene: Jailbird, leaning up against a wall with her eyes closed, sleeping while standing up. The way to the holding cells was currently locked up, though, and on closer examination, he'd see that Jailbird's eyes were slowly opening. "Oh, it's you," she yawned, stretching her arms above her head and opening her mouth wide, losing her words for a moment before smacking her lips and continuing. "Don't worry, you don't have to moonlight as a prison guard tonight. Or at least, I assume not, cause she didn't give me the day off. I don't know everything about why you're here, but she said she wants to see you in the main interrogation room. I'll lead you there, but that's as far as we go together today, Salty. That's the sad truth of being a jailer: I don't spend a lot of time rubbing elbows with the higher ups. Instead, I spend my days and nights watching Gala hump the corner of her mattress," she sighed, giving a shrug.
The two would have a little time for some chat, but soon enough, they'd reach the interrogation room that she'd mentioned. Despite being the "main" interrogation room, it certainly wasn't glamorous... but then, Gala's suite was the only glamorous thing he'd seen in the prison last time. Two tables were set together, long side to long side, in the center of the room, with two chairs on the open long side of each table. There was basically no other furniture in the room, aside from a few extra chairs in one corner and a water cooler near the back of the room. Three doors, windowless and featureless aside from metal handles, adorned each of the other three walls of the square-shaped room. Each of the doors had a console, a little familiar from the maximum security section of the jail that CourseMan had seen earlier, but with significantly fewer buttons, levers, and switches. The consoles on the left and right each only had two buttons, one showing a lock and one showing a long rectangle, both glowing red. The one on the back door had even fewer, just one red lock button. Long, large windows lined the walls of the left and right side of the room, but the glass was completely pitch-black, indicating they were either blocking view one way or both ways.
Another person was already seated in the room: the back right chair was currently occupied by a very short navi in a dark, blue cape, which covered their head and body. As CourseMan entered, the figure rose to their, again, rather remarkably low height and approached. Their face was distinctly... missing, given that a white, featureless curve of glass was emerging out from the hood where a face ought to be. With the hood up, it was hard to tell whether that was their head or some kind of mask. The navi approached and opened their robe slightly, producing a thin arm clad in a slightly brighter, but still navy blue, navisuit, made out of a glistening material like latex. A gray-blue glove covered the navi's small hand, which was in position for a handshake. "Thank you for coming," a female's voice, sounding as though it belonged to an especially sour-tempered child, came muffled from inside the hood and helmet. The words were nice enough, but something about the snappiness of their tone made them sound rather impatient. "I'm Kismet, your employer. I'm from the Head Family. I won't repeat anything more you've already been briefed on, don't worry," she assured him. Whether he shook or not, she'd withdraw the hand soon enough. "And thank you, Jailbird. You can return to your work."
"Gee! What a prize," Jailbird joked, giving CourseMan a quick pat on the shoulder as though saying "good luck" before leaving him alone with his employer.
Kismet might be scowling behind her mask, but she soon got back to speaking to CourseMan. "The Blessers representatives are in the room to our left... the negotiators, not the captives. These are BlessMan himself and Jury, his daughter. I had... hoped to keep the conversation to just myself and the daughter, but BlessMan insisted he sit in. Even still, I'm hoping he'll agree to watch from the other room. That man is extremely dangerous, anyone with eyes or paying the slightest attention to the news knows that. Of course... you're the mediator, so that is your call. You can speak to him first and then judge, if you like. But I'd like to at least offer you the chance to avoid him entirely by agreeing that he stay in that room," she advised, sounding a little as though she was speaking through clenched teeth.
The navi's cape swept the floor as she took her seat again, then pulled out the one next to her for him to join her if he wished. "The daughter seems rather even-headed, except on the point of her father and his demands. We'll be summoning her in shortly. Oh, and of course... in the opposite room are the captives. I assure you, they are so thoroughly restrained that there is no danger of them interrupting our proceedings. You've seen firsthand what Mime is capable of and I pray you don't have to witness what Shok is... You can visit them if you have any reason to and I have no objection if you want to see them privately, just know that I won't hold myself or the Family accountable if anything happens to them or to you while you're in there." She paused for a moment, then placed her hand upon her table. "I got the impression from what I heard that you were rather lax in your dealings with them last time. Jailbird may have offered you some hearsay on the backgrounds of each of the captives last time, but as someone who knows both of the two criminals and their past victims well, I'd like to fully debrief you."
"I understand you may feel there is some 'case' to solve here. There are elements we don't understand, but the 'case' has been thoroughly investigated and already turned on its head once. For years, we assumed that Mime had gone rogue- that is, left her operator- after killing her closest friends, all except for Shok. She furthered that narrative by targeting large gatherings of Mafioso. Mime deleted several navis in her quest to get back at Shok; the whole Mafia was really fair game for her. Perhaps she didn't know that Shok was the sole responsible party or perhaps she blamed the whole Mafia for sheltering Shok, it's hard to say... but whatever the case, her violence was at time without discretion. Finally, we apprehended her, but our investigation pointed back to someone within her inner circle as a loose thread. That group and myself met with another navi, NitroMan, and together we discretely reopened the case. We essentially caught Shok and her operator red-handed; they gave us the confession we needed and revealed that they had set up Mime to take the fall for Shok's twisted experiments years ago, which deleted her circle of friends. We now believe that they were being 'sacrificed' for the sake of the experiments she later used to boost the abilities of the Blessers."
She paused here to pull her hood back and dissipate her helmet, which glowed white for a moment, then vanished. Her head, as it was revealed, was that of a young girl, with green hair in two stiff, upward pointing pig-tails and otherwise held away from the nape of her neck. Her bangs were unfashionably long and hung very straight, shadowing over her beady, narrow black eyes, which were constantly frozen in a state of annoyance or suspicion. Her mouth was similarly down-turned... she seemed to have a habit of grinding her teeth, because they seemed perpetually closed and bared. Her skin was fairly pale, either by design or because she probably didn't get much sun in that outfit. It soon became apparent that the reason she'd removed her helmet was in order to take a drink of water from the paper cup sitting on the desk, before she continued speaking.
"I don't know how much you know about Blessers,"[/i] she grumbled, clearly not caring for the term, "but they're a group of powerful navis that BlessMan has bestowed with special powers. We knew that Shok was a former member but we never knew the link regarding Mime... it was a detail that her operator had never revealed to us. The source of her seemingly endless supply of invisible weaponry is actually that enhancement, I suppose. Of course, the problem with the 'blessings' is that they drain the sanity of whoever takes them. That drift is subtle in most cases and may seem to be part of their personality at first, but even that level of control is only possible via Shok's treatments... without them, and over time even with them, the change manifests as something like dementia or even Alzheimer's. BlessMan, for instance, appears to be in a state of hallucination half the time and is quite impossible to hold an intelligent conversation with them now. This is just my theory... but I believe that the real goal of the Blessers here is not to try Shok in their own court, but rather, to acquire her so that she can begin administering her treatments again, prolonging the lives of the Blessers. There needs to be some kind of long-term solution to their problem, but that is neither your problem nor mine. Our only concern is where these navis end up... and that will be largely up to your judgment. Oh, and for what it's worth... I don't believe Jury has been enhanced at all, nor has she received any of Shok's treatments."
She sensed that he was probably ready to ask some questions, but she was determined to finish the briefing first; her words continued, quick and snappy. "To clarify, although I'd be happy for us to rid ourselves of these girls, there's also certainly a case for keeping them here and punishing them within the Mafia, since we've been harmed by their actions. I only want to surrender them if I'm convinced that they'll receive some sort of punishment under the Blessers, possibly even deletion. However, my suspicion is that the Blessers only want them back for the sake of Shok's treatments. Again... a lot will be left to your judgment here, how this ought to end up and whether I'm out of line with any of these suspicions. You'll simply mediate... offer suggestions for how we ought to compromise, stop someone if they get out of line. Heck, even any unconventional psychological mumbo-jumbo you think will improve the proceedings. Try to ease any tensions you see develop. If you must press somebody, please, please don't get violent or confrontational about it. That would be detrimental to these proceedings and a serious mistake on your part," she insisted, placing her hand upon the table top again as though antsy. "I won't threaten you further unless you warrant it." That was a grave reminder to CourseMan that Kismet's interest in fairness here was something of a rarity among her kind... he was still in a Mafia run facility and should expect the Mafia's form of justice.
"Okay, that's more than enough set up. Please let me know if you'd like me to bring Jury and/or BlessMan in here, or if you have any questions first. Or if you'd like to speak to either the Blessers or the captives, you can do that too," she finished, folding both hands on top of the table now. It might just now occur to CourseMan that the table was a little low for him... it seemed just the right height for her, though. "Or, if you want a drink of water first, get it."
The two would have a little time for some chat, but soon enough, they'd reach the interrogation room that she'd mentioned. Despite being the "main" interrogation room, it certainly wasn't glamorous... but then, Gala's suite was the only glamorous thing he'd seen in the prison last time. Two tables were set together, long side to long side, in the center of the room, with two chairs on the open long side of each table. There was basically no other furniture in the room, aside from a few extra chairs in one corner and a water cooler near the back of the room. Three doors, windowless and featureless aside from metal handles, adorned each of the other three walls of the square-shaped room. Each of the doors had a console, a little familiar from the maximum security section of the jail that CourseMan had seen earlier, but with significantly fewer buttons, levers, and switches. The consoles on the left and right each only had two buttons, one showing a lock and one showing a long rectangle, both glowing red. The one on the back door had even fewer, just one red lock button. Long, large windows lined the walls of the left and right side of the room, but the glass was completely pitch-black, indicating they were either blocking view one way or both ways.
Another person was already seated in the room: the back right chair was currently occupied by a very short navi in a dark, blue cape, which covered their head and body. As CourseMan entered, the figure rose to their, again, rather remarkably low height and approached. Their face was distinctly... missing, given that a white, featureless curve of glass was emerging out from the hood where a face ought to be. With the hood up, it was hard to tell whether that was their head or some kind of mask. The navi approached and opened their robe slightly, producing a thin arm clad in a slightly brighter, but still navy blue, navisuit, made out of a glistening material like latex. A gray-blue glove covered the navi's small hand, which was in position for a handshake. "Thank you for coming," a female's voice, sounding as though it belonged to an especially sour-tempered child, came muffled from inside the hood and helmet. The words were nice enough, but something about the snappiness of their tone made them sound rather impatient. "I'm Kismet, your employer. I'm from the Head Family. I won't repeat anything more you've already been briefed on, don't worry," she assured him. Whether he shook or not, she'd withdraw the hand soon enough. "And thank you, Jailbird. You can return to your work."
"Gee! What a prize," Jailbird joked, giving CourseMan a quick pat on the shoulder as though saying "good luck" before leaving him alone with his employer.
Kismet might be scowling behind her mask, but she soon got back to speaking to CourseMan. "The Blessers representatives are in the room to our left... the negotiators, not the captives. These are BlessMan himself and Jury, his daughter. I had... hoped to keep the conversation to just myself and the daughter, but BlessMan insisted he sit in. Even still, I'm hoping he'll agree to watch from the other room. That man is extremely dangerous, anyone with eyes or paying the slightest attention to the news knows that. Of course... you're the mediator, so that is your call. You can speak to him first and then judge, if you like. But I'd like to at least offer you the chance to avoid him entirely by agreeing that he stay in that room," she advised, sounding a little as though she was speaking through clenched teeth.
The navi's cape swept the floor as she took her seat again, then pulled out the one next to her for him to join her if he wished. "The daughter seems rather even-headed, except on the point of her father and his demands. We'll be summoning her in shortly. Oh, and of course... in the opposite room are the captives. I assure you, they are so thoroughly restrained that there is no danger of them interrupting our proceedings. You've seen firsthand what Mime is capable of and I pray you don't have to witness what Shok is... You can visit them if you have any reason to and I have no objection if you want to see them privately, just know that I won't hold myself or the Family accountable if anything happens to them or to you while you're in there." She paused for a moment, then placed her hand upon her table. "I got the impression from what I heard that you were rather lax in your dealings with them last time. Jailbird may have offered you some hearsay on the backgrounds of each of the captives last time, but as someone who knows both of the two criminals and their past victims well, I'd like to fully debrief you."
"I understand you may feel there is some 'case' to solve here. There are elements we don't understand, but the 'case' has been thoroughly investigated and already turned on its head once. For years, we assumed that Mime had gone rogue- that is, left her operator- after killing her closest friends, all except for Shok. She furthered that narrative by targeting large gatherings of Mafioso. Mime deleted several navis in her quest to get back at Shok; the whole Mafia was really fair game for her. Perhaps she didn't know that Shok was the sole responsible party or perhaps she blamed the whole Mafia for sheltering Shok, it's hard to say... but whatever the case, her violence was at time without discretion. Finally, we apprehended her, but our investigation pointed back to someone within her inner circle as a loose thread. That group and myself met with another navi, NitroMan, and together we discretely reopened the case. We essentially caught Shok and her operator red-handed; they gave us the confession we needed and revealed that they had set up Mime to take the fall for Shok's twisted experiments years ago, which deleted her circle of friends. We now believe that they were being 'sacrificed' for the sake of the experiments she later used to boost the abilities of the Blessers."
She paused here to pull her hood back and dissipate her helmet, which glowed white for a moment, then vanished. Her head, as it was revealed, was that of a young girl, with green hair in two stiff, upward pointing pig-tails and otherwise held away from the nape of her neck. Her bangs were unfashionably long and hung very straight, shadowing over her beady, narrow black eyes, which were constantly frozen in a state of annoyance or suspicion. Her mouth was similarly down-turned... she seemed to have a habit of grinding her teeth, because they seemed perpetually closed and bared. Her skin was fairly pale, either by design or because she probably didn't get much sun in that outfit. It soon became apparent that the reason she'd removed her helmet was in order to take a drink of water from the paper cup sitting on the desk, before she continued speaking.
"I don't know how much you know about Blessers,"[/i] she grumbled, clearly not caring for the term, "but they're a group of powerful navis that BlessMan has bestowed with special powers. We knew that Shok was a former member but we never knew the link regarding Mime... it was a detail that her operator had never revealed to us. The source of her seemingly endless supply of invisible weaponry is actually that enhancement, I suppose. Of course, the problem with the 'blessings' is that they drain the sanity of whoever takes them. That drift is subtle in most cases and may seem to be part of their personality at first, but even that level of control is only possible via Shok's treatments... without them, and over time even with them, the change manifests as something like dementia or even Alzheimer's. BlessMan, for instance, appears to be in a state of hallucination half the time and is quite impossible to hold an intelligent conversation with them now. This is just my theory... but I believe that the real goal of the Blessers here is not to try Shok in their own court, but rather, to acquire her so that she can begin administering her treatments again, prolonging the lives of the Blessers. There needs to be some kind of long-term solution to their problem, but that is neither your problem nor mine. Our only concern is where these navis end up... and that will be largely up to your judgment. Oh, and for what it's worth... I don't believe Jury has been enhanced at all, nor has she received any of Shok's treatments."
She sensed that he was probably ready to ask some questions, but she was determined to finish the briefing first; her words continued, quick and snappy. "To clarify, although I'd be happy for us to rid ourselves of these girls, there's also certainly a case for keeping them here and punishing them within the Mafia, since we've been harmed by their actions. I only want to surrender them if I'm convinced that they'll receive some sort of punishment under the Blessers, possibly even deletion. However, my suspicion is that the Blessers only want them back for the sake of Shok's treatments. Again... a lot will be left to your judgment here, how this ought to end up and whether I'm out of line with any of these suspicions. You'll simply mediate... offer suggestions for how we ought to compromise, stop someone if they get out of line. Heck, even any unconventional psychological mumbo-jumbo you think will improve the proceedings. Try to ease any tensions you see develop. If you must press somebody, please, please don't get violent or confrontational about it. That would be detrimental to these proceedings and a serious mistake on your part," she insisted, placing her hand upon the table top again as though antsy. "I won't threaten you further unless you warrant it." That was a grave reminder to CourseMan that Kismet's interest in fairness here was something of a rarity among her kind... he was still in a Mafia run facility and should expect the Mafia's form of justice.
"Okay, that's more than enough set up. Please let me know if you'd like me to bring Jury and/or BlessMan in here, or if you have any questions first. Or if you'd like to speak to either the Blessers or the captives, you can do that too," she finished, folding both hands on top of the table now. It might just now occur to CourseMan that the table was a little low for him... it seemed just the right height for her, though. "Or, if you want a drink of water first, get it."
last edited by
CourseMan took a quick moment to get his bearings as he arrived, taking in the vaguely familiar setting and starting down the hall as he had before. Finding Jailbird in her usual spot was a good sign that nothing he'd done previously had gotten her into any major trouble. He let a casual grin slip across his features as he strolled, hands behind his back.
"Evening Songbird... quiet night?" He approached close to her without slowing until he stood within a couple of feet and leaned on the wall beside her for a few moments. After her own brief greeting and explanation, Courser nodded then followed after her. "Well, I suppose a brief walk together is a little more than the meet-and-greet we got last time, wouldn't you say, Sweets?" He winked at her, his face turned to the side to catch her eye for the brief moment as he responded to her own pet-naming of him. "So, you been up to anything strange or startling since the last we me? How's married life treating you?" He chuckled, adding a disarming smile to the mix, but as he did, his first decoy slipped out of the wall, walking backwards in front of him with a far more derisive expression directed at the flirting navi.
"Quit your digging Casanova, the girl already said she weren't interested in fooling around!" Courser made a small, irritated sound and flicked his hand, waving the shadowy clone away. He rolled his shoulders, not quite hiding the discomfort that followed.
"Still not quite got my own little monsters fully in check, so it seems..." The charming smile had become a much more rueful grin as he shrugged at her.
By the time they entered the interrogation room, Courser had let something of a more professional composure settle onto him, a mixture of relaxed and calm body language and a smooth expression with just the smallest hint of a smile curling one corner of his lips. His first meeting with Kismet was tempered by an internal focus as courser kept an iron grip on his stray thoughts and concentrated specifically on not allowing any of them to slip off into things that could voice themselves. Nevertheless he reached across and down slightly to shake her offered hand and nod once as he did.
"CourseMan, a pleasure." He matched his demeanour to hers, keeping his tone no-nonsense and sensible, but as Jailbird left the room, one of his decoys had appeared, leaning against the door frame and catching her eye with a grin.
"Nice to see you again, Songbird. Catch you later, and don't work too hard now..." The decoy winked, its smile flashing teeth, then dissolved into shadows again. Courser did his best to ignore the exchange as though it hadn't happened.
"To business, then." He took the seat offered and listened in carefully while Kismet began to go over the relevant information, nodding occasionally. As she got to talking about his previous dealings with the criminals, however, his decoy merged up from the shadow beneath the table, sitting across from them, or seeming to. It was laughing to itself with abroad grin.
"Slow down there, cutie; dinner and drink before you try to get my briefs off!" Courser dismissed the clone with a flick of his eyes, but not fast enough to stop the thought from escaping. He inclined his head to her.
"Sorry for the interruption. They get away from me sometimes." When he raises his head, it was eyes first, meeting the featureless gaze of her mask. He was also grinning, but it was a slightly more reserved, mischievous one. "And sorry for that one's crassness. I would, of course, be the one buying..." He couldn't help the brief wink that followed, but straightened up properly and resumed his more serious expression a moment later, allowing her to continue.
He managed to keep himself from interrupting again until she had finished with the rest of her briefing information. It was a lot to think about, really, and it shed a little bit of light on his thoughts on he matter, though it didn't really settle anything, and there was still the matter to immediate hand to concentrate on. Mime's link to the Blessers was an interesting tit-bit, though — the part of him that had found their first meeting strangely charming was wistful for a moment.
Kismet's information mostly confirmed that both Mime and Shok had been more or less telling the truth to him before, from their own points of view, save only that each of them seemed absolutely convinced that the other had been the perpetrator of the original murder. That, too, was interesting. It only left one conclusion, which didn't, obviously, line up with what the Mafia believed, but the question was how to prove it. To Kismet he nodded once, then stood and moved over to the water cooler, taking a moment to pour himself a small cup.
"I think I understand enough of what you need from me. At some point I may speak with the individuals one on one, but I have a safe means of doing so." One of his clones reappeared opposite Kismet again, waving.
"Boss man is good at running double info, even behind locked doors and barred cells, if need be." It winked at the diminutive woman, then faded away. Courser took a small sip of the water, then returned to his seat with a casual pace.
"All I'll say about the situation surrounding all of this is that the Mafia spent some years feeling that it had definite conviction of the truth. Now they have definite conviction of another truth. You are right in that I don't know as much about the matter as those who investigated it thoroughly, but given the track record, and given the time I spent speaking with both Shok and Mime previously, I'm not completely ruling out the possibility that a third truth also exists." He sat and placed the cup of water in front of him.
"None of which actually detracts from the fact that both of them are very much criminals in their own right, regardless of how the matter started... and to a reasonable extent, both of them are also victims. I think I can help mediate a solution here that both parties will find at least acceptable. Neither side is likely to be completely happy with whatever compromise is agreed upon; that is the nature of compromises... but an acceptable agreement, at least, should be possible.
"If I may... I'm just going to introduce myself to BlessMan and his daughter, before we call her in. Politeness goes a long way in these cases, after all. Then we can get started." He stood again and walked across to the darkened glass by the door that Kismet had indicated held Jury and her father, then reached out and touched two fingers to the glass. He couldn't see through it, but a reasonable level of certainty let him attempt to project his clone out from the other side of the glass, into the room beyond. Provided the clone actually took, it looked about the room and took size of the occupants, then inclined head.
"Good evening. My name is CourseMan, and I've been asked to mediate the discussions tonight and make sure that a civil agreement is reached by everyone. I am a neutral party in this matter, not affiliated with the Mafia or any other organisation, but I have been briefed in some details, and I am acquainted with both Shok and Mime. Before we begin, I'd like to hear a little more about each of you as well, if I may."
While the decoy delivered its request, Courser himself returned to the table and pulled the chair out a little further, turning it around to sit with his arms over the back so that the height of the table wouldn't look like a problem.
"So, since I've been asked to mediate the discussion tonight, and make sure that a civil agreement is reached by everyone, I am therefore, the neutral party in this. You've briefed me on the details, and I may reacquaint myself with Shok and Mime, but before we begin, a little about you, if I may; you'll be the one dong the actual negotiating with Jury, correct? I'm just the mediator, and I'm here to ensure that tensions are calmed and agreement is reached, and perhaps suggest courses of action at impasses. But, Kismet... even though I'm in your employ tonight, that must mean that if I decide that you are growing too heated, destructive or otherwise undiplomatic, you will heed me, and rein it in, yes?" He arched an eyebrow at her as he spoke, then sipped his water.
"Evening Songbird... quiet night?" He approached close to her without slowing until he stood within a couple of feet and leaned on the wall beside her for a few moments. After her own brief greeting and explanation, Courser nodded then followed after her. "Well, I suppose a brief walk together is a little more than the meet-and-greet we got last time, wouldn't you say, Sweets?" He winked at her, his face turned to the side to catch her eye for the brief moment as he responded to her own pet-naming of him. "So, you been up to anything strange or startling since the last we me? How's married life treating you?" He chuckled, adding a disarming smile to the mix, but as he did, his first decoy slipped out of the wall, walking backwards in front of him with a far more derisive expression directed at the flirting navi.
"Quit your digging Casanova, the girl already said she weren't interested in fooling around!" Courser made a small, irritated sound and flicked his hand, waving the shadowy clone away. He rolled his shoulders, not quite hiding the discomfort that followed.
"Still not quite got my own little monsters fully in check, so it seems..." The charming smile had become a much more rueful grin as he shrugged at her.
By the time they entered the interrogation room, Courser had let something of a more professional composure settle onto him, a mixture of relaxed and calm body language and a smooth expression with just the smallest hint of a smile curling one corner of his lips. His first meeting with Kismet was tempered by an internal focus as courser kept an iron grip on his stray thoughts and concentrated specifically on not allowing any of them to slip off into things that could voice themselves. Nevertheless he reached across and down slightly to shake her offered hand and nod once as he did.
"CourseMan, a pleasure." He matched his demeanour to hers, keeping his tone no-nonsense and sensible, but as Jailbird left the room, one of his decoys had appeared, leaning against the door frame and catching her eye with a grin.
"Nice to see you again, Songbird. Catch you later, and don't work too hard now..." The decoy winked, its smile flashing teeth, then dissolved into shadows again. Courser did his best to ignore the exchange as though it hadn't happened.
"To business, then." He took the seat offered and listened in carefully while Kismet began to go over the relevant information, nodding occasionally. As she got to talking about his previous dealings with the criminals, however, his decoy merged up from the shadow beneath the table, sitting across from them, or seeming to. It was laughing to itself with abroad grin.
"Slow down there, cutie; dinner and drink before you try to get my briefs off!" Courser dismissed the clone with a flick of his eyes, but not fast enough to stop the thought from escaping. He inclined his head to her.
"Sorry for the interruption. They get away from me sometimes." When he raises his head, it was eyes first, meeting the featureless gaze of her mask. He was also grinning, but it was a slightly more reserved, mischievous one. "And sorry for that one's crassness. I would, of course, be the one buying..." He couldn't help the brief wink that followed, but straightened up properly and resumed his more serious expression a moment later, allowing her to continue.
He managed to keep himself from interrupting again until she had finished with the rest of her briefing information. It was a lot to think about, really, and it shed a little bit of light on his thoughts on he matter, though it didn't really settle anything, and there was still the matter to immediate hand to concentrate on. Mime's link to the Blessers was an interesting tit-bit, though — the part of him that had found their first meeting strangely charming was wistful for a moment.
Kismet's information mostly confirmed that both Mime and Shok had been more or less telling the truth to him before, from their own points of view, save only that each of them seemed absolutely convinced that the other had been the perpetrator of the original murder. That, too, was interesting. It only left one conclusion, which didn't, obviously, line up with what the Mafia believed, but the question was how to prove it. To Kismet he nodded once, then stood and moved over to the water cooler, taking a moment to pour himself a small cup.
"I think I understand enough of what you need from me. At some point I may speak with the individuals one on one, but I have a safe means of doing so." One of his clones reappeared opposite Kismet again, waving.
"Boss man is good at running double info, even behind locked doors and barred cells, if need be." It winked at the diminutive woman, then faded away. Courser took a small sip of the water, then returned to his seat with a casual pace.
"All I'll say about the situation surrounding all of this is that the Mafia spent some years feeling that it had definite conviction of the truth. Now they have definite conviction of another truth. You are right in that I don't know as much about the matter as those who investigated it thoroughly, but given the track record, and given the time I spent speaking with both Shok and Mime previously, I'm not completely ruling out the possibility that a third truth also exists." He sat and placed the cup of water in front of him.
"None of which actually detracts from the fact that both of them are very much criminals in their own right, regardless of how the matter started... and to a reasonable extent, both of them are also victims. I think I can help mediate a solution here that both parties will find at least acceptable. Neither side is likely to be completely happy with whatever compromise is agreed upon; that is the nature of compromises... but an acceptable agreement, at least, should be possible.
"If I may... I'm just going to introduce myself to BlessMan and his daughter, before we call her in. Politeness goes a long way in these cases, after all. Then we can get started." He stood again and walked across to the darkened glass by the door that Kismet had indicated held Jury and her father, then reached out and touched two fingers to the glass. He couldn't see through it, but a reasonable level of certainty let him attempt to project his clone out from the other side of the glass, into the room beyond. Provided the clone actually took, it looked about the room and took size of the occupants, then inclined head.
"Good evening. My name is CourseMan, and I've been asked to mediate the discussions tonight and make sure that a civil agreement is reached by everyone. I am a neutral party in this matter, not affiliated with the Mafia or any other organisation, but I have been briefed in some details, and I am acquainted with both Shok and Mime. Before we begin, I'd like to hear a little more about each of you as well, if I may."
While the decoy delivered its request, Courser himself returned to the table and pulled the chair out a little further, turning it around to sit with his arms over the back so that the height of the table wouldn't look like a problem.
"So, since I've been asked to mediate the discussion tonight, and make sure that a civil agreement is reached by everyone, I am therefore, the neutral party in this. You've briefed me on the details, and I may reacquaint myself with Shok and Mime, but before we begin, a little about you, if I may; you'll be the one dong the actual negotiating with Jury, correct? I'm just the mediator, and I'm here to ensure that tensions are calmed and agreement is reached, and perhaps suggest courses of action at impasses. But, Kismet... even though I'm in your employ tonight, that must mean that if I decide that you are growing too heated, destructive or otherwise undiplomatic, you will heed me, and rein it in, yes?" He arched an eyebrow at her as he spoke, then sipped his water.
last edited by
"Oh, yeah. No big parties tonight or anything. You caught me on a down day," Jailbird joked, though it was hard to imagine her shifting out of second gear for anything. "Ha ha! Married. That'd be a shock alright, wouldn't it? Nah, no news, but I don't consider it good news. You may get a shot after all, at this rate," she sighed, stretching her arms out above her head and cracking her shoulders as he walked. Stiffness was hardly the worst occupational hazard she faced, but it was probably the most frequent worry she had, anyways. She turned her head to the other Courser, then raised her eyebrow. "Huh, yeah. Might wanna work on that. If you don't, you'll end up getting scouted by Teksqp. If you do, just promise me you aren't gonna start stabbing your own allies or anything. This is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live here."
The two of them had managed to get in several fun jokes before CourseMan met his new acquaintance, someone to whom joking didn't seem to come nearly so naturally. Jailbird rolled her eyes at CourseMan's clone and gave it another type of bird as she left, not one for appearing business-like in front of her boss, apparently. Meanwhile, Courser was having a hard time keeping other similarly unprofessional thoughts from slipping out; Kismet's face wasn't revealed at that time, but her lack of a response meant she either hadn't heard it or didn't plan to humor it. At the follow-up, she finally bit. "Are you finished?" she asked curtly, then continued the briefing.
Once she was done, CourseMan spoke up again. Kismet nodded, though her expression, unfortunately, didn't move to anything close to anything pleased or even approving of his suggestion. "Very well. I assume your clones offer you that opportunity," she responded. Her expression seemed to grow stormier as he offered his own view of the Mime/Shok situation. "I can't stop you from thinking what you will, but what you may interpret as care for both women is, in my view, more likely to end up being misguided on both accounts. Both women are murderers, though for different reasons, and both want your assistance, but I would caution you that neither had good intentions. Shok has an astounding IQ and a penchant for using others for her own twisted intentions. Mime is not so different, save that she's more of a lone wolf. I can't tell you what either ultimately wants, but both women are extremely dangerous." She paused for a moment, then lowered her eyebrows and widened her grimace. "As am I, but in a more predictable and reliable way."
The rest of his statements seemed to go over well with her and she nodded along, the spiky knots in her hair bobbing as she did. She watched with interest as he approached the other wall. "You can control your clone without seeing what they're interacting with? So they act as another viewpoint? That's a lot of sensory information to take in... Not that I'm unfamiliar with interpreting multiple visual data sources myself. I should inform you that in battle, the helmet I wear provides me near 360 degree visual input and detects my opponent's weak points. If you feel like that might be some sort of advantage to me, I would consent to going without it for the course of the negotiations," she offered, summoning the helmet again atop the table so he could inspect it if he wished. Now sitting by itself, it was clear that the thing wasn't actually a complete orb; the bottom ended in a flat section that would allow it to sit upon her collar, or, in this case, upon the table without rolling off.
CourseMan had a few more questions, which she attempted to answer. "Yes, I will be negotiating with Jury here. All of that is correct. You essentially have complete control over the rules and authority to direct our questions, whatever you'd like. However, know that we are still on Mafia grounds. If you're out of line, I'll first warn you, then ask you to leave if you continue. And if you protest beyond that, well... I'll deal with you in the way the less level-headed of the Mafia families would." She folded her hands in front of herself upon the table again. "But yes. If I am hot-headed, I fully intended that you let me know so and ask me to control myself. Hopefully, we'll encounter no such problem."
----------------------------------
Inside the room to the left, one of the clones would find a woman dressed befitting of the name "Judge" rather than "Jury," dressed all in black including gloves, flat-toed shoes (or perhaps boots, for they were hidden under the hem of her robe), and a high-necked, somewhat tight fitting robe, which tapered at the legs to become more loose. Her hair and eyes were both nearly as black as her clothing. Said hair was very short cut, with an a somewhat boyish part. She was only a little taller than Kismet was. He hadn't really seen either of their shapes enough to compare those yet, but Jury's bust was fairly modest and her waist slender, from the tight cut of the upper part of her robe. Her eyes were very narrow and relatively inexpressive, along with the horizontal line of her mouth which was, at least, probably preferable to Kismet's persistently irritable face. Her complexion made her look Electopian...
... Which was a little surprising, given that the room's other occupant, apparently her father, was a very white-skinned Netopian. Not that there was any reason such things had to follow naturally on the net. At any rate, the lineage was hardly the concerning part, looking at the guy. His face was pleasant enough: light blue eyes, a handsome face with smile lines, but otherwise mostly unmarked, and thin eyebrows. His head was completely bald. His outfit consisted of a white robe, hemmed with gold and containing his navi emblem at the heavy collar, a simple yellow halo. He held a long, golden staff in one hand and seemed to be using it as a walking stick... his posture seemed bad for his age. What really seemed bad, however, was the actual halo above his head... a tremendous device, spinning with a loud whirring noise like a computer fan someone's installed wrong. The device had clearly at one point been gold plated, but now, black machinery veined with red wires was visible, and every now and then, the whirring would become so intense that the device would start to oscillate on diagonal axes. It looked like it could spin out of control at any second and fly off, perhaps to begin ricocheting around the room or perhaps bisecting some poor bistander.
"CourseMan! Pleasant to meet you. I'm BlessMan, leader of the Blessers. This lovely woman here is my daughter, Joor-Joor-Joor..." he began, his mouth moving with mechanical, repetitive motions until he finally clutched his head, seemingly in pain.
Jury turned her head with a worried expression, then raised her hand to indicate he ought to stay quiet while she finished. "Jury. Thank you for agreeing to attend today. It certainly reassures me to know that this negotiation isn't going to be entirely in the hands of the Mafia. It is very important that we get our people back, so that we can handle both their punishment and carrying on Shok's important work. Honestly, the two have been nothing but trouble for the Mafia, from what I've heard. You can imagine my surprise when Kismet didn't simply concede to hand them over to us and started attaching strings to the deal," she sighed. Here, she paused, then smiled. "I also understand that you've tried to be good to them both, from what the jailer told me. I appreciate that. Not that I wanted either to commit a jailbreak or anything, as that'd heighten tensions between us and the Mafia... but I certainly had been hoping we'd get them both back, sooner or later."
BlessMan finally seemed to get in control of his headache and pitched in on the conversation. "It sounds to me like you were trying to be a little more than good with them. From what I hear, you've been sending Mime presents. Are you flirting with both of them, Sir? Should I be worried about my daughter?" he asked with a chuckle, his eyes smiling. Suddenly, he seemed cordial and pleasant. "Mime was a nice, quiet girl. We were all heartbroken when she left the Blessers. When Shok followed her, we knew it was for good- for the good- good- good... Aaaruuuugh," BlessMan cried out, now beset by another headache. He gripped both hands to the head of his staff and struggled to stand; Jury moved to support him. It might occur to CourseMan that there were no beds, seats, or even tables in this room; no furniture at all that he'd be able to actually sit down or lie upon.
From his side, Jury cast a more pleading glance to CourseMan. "Sir... It's very important that we get Shok back with us... Her research is... well... it's just very important," she murmured, casting her eyes down at the floor for a moment, then back up to his own.
The two of them had managed to get in several fun jokes before CourseMan met his new acquaintance, someone to whom joking didn't seem to come nearly so naturally. Jailbird rolled her eyes at CourseMan's clone and gave it another type of bird as she left, not one for appearing business-like in front of her boss, apparently. Meanwhile, Courser was having a hard time keeping other similarly unprofessional thoughts from slipping out; Kismet's face wasn't revealed at that time, but her lack of a response meant she either hadn't heard it or didn't plan to humor it. At the follow-up, she finally bit. "Are you finished?" she asked curtly, then continued the briefing.
Once she was done, CourseMan spoke up again. Kismet nodded, though her expression, unfortunately, didn't move to anything close to anything pleased or even approving of his suggestion. "Very well. I assume your clones offer you that opportunity," she responded. Her expression seemed to grow stormier as he offered his own view of the Mime/Shok situation. "I can't stop you from thinking what you will, but what you may interpret as care for both women is, in my view, more likely to end up being misguided on both accounts. Both women are murderers, though for different reasons, and both want your assistance, but I would caution you that neither had good intentions. Shok has an astounding IQ and a penchant for using others for her own twisted intentions. Mime is not so different, save that she's more of a lone wolf. I can't tell you what either ultimately wants, but both women are extremely dangerous." She paused for a moment, then lowered her eyebrows and widened her grimace. "As am I, but in a more predictable and reliable way."
The rest of his statements seemed to go over well with her and she nodded along, the spiky knots in her hair bobbing as she did. She watched with interest as he approached the other wall. "You can control your clone without seeing what they're interacting with? So they act as another viewpoint? That's a lot of sensory information to take in... Not that I'm unfamiliar with interpreting multiple visual data sources myself. I should inform you that in battle, the helmet I wear provides me near 360 degree visual input and detects my opponent's weak points. If you feel like that might be some sort of advantage to me, I would consent to going without it for the course of the negotiations," she offered, summoning the helmet again atop the table so he could inspect it if he wished. Now sitting by itself, it was clear that the thing wasn't actually a complete orb; the bottom ended in a flat section that would allow it to sit upon her collar, or, in this case, upon the table without rolling off.
CourseMan had a few more questions, which she attempted to answer. "Yes, I will be negotiating with Jury here. All of that is correct. You essentially have complete control over the rules and authority to direct our questions, whatever you'd like. However, know that we are still on Mafia grounds. If you're out of line, I'll first warn you, then ask you to leave if you continue. And if you protest beyond that, well... I'll deal with you in the way the less level-headed of the Mafia families would." She folded her hands in front of herself upon the table again. "But yes. If I am hot-headed, I fully intended that you let me know so and ask me to control myself. Hopefully, we'll encounter no such problem."
----------------------------------
Inside the room to the left, one of the clones would find a woman dressed befitting of the name "Judge" rather than "Jury," dressed all in black including gloves, flat-toed shoes (or perhaps boots, for they were hidden under the hem of her robe), and a high-necked, somewhat tight fitting robe, which tapered at the legs to become more loose. Her hair and eyes were both nearly as black as her clothing. Said hair was very short cut, with an a somewhat boyish part. She was only a little taller than Kismet was. He hadn't really seen either of their shapes enough to compare those yet, but Jury's bust was fairly modest and her waist slender, from the tight cut of the upper part of her robe. Her eyes were very narrow and relatively inexpressive, along with the horizontal line of her mouth which was, at least, probably preferable to Kismet's persistently irritable face. Her complexion made her look Electopian...
... Which was a little surprising, given that the room's other occupant, apparently her father, was a very white-skinned Netopian. Not that there was any reason such things had to follow naturally on the net. At any rate, the lineage was hardly the concerning part, looking at the guy. His face was pleasant enough: light blue eyes, a handsome face with smile lines, but otherwise mostly unmarked, and thin eyebrows. His head was completely bald. His outfit consisted of a white robe, hemmed with gold and containing his navi emblem at the heavy collar, a simple yellow halo. He held a long, golden staff in one hand and seemed to be using it as a walking stick... his posture seemed bad for his age. What really seemed bad, however, was the actual halo above his head... a tremendous device, spinning with a loud whirring noise like a computer fan someone's installed wrong. The device had clearly at one point been gold plated, but now, black machinery veined with red wires was visible, and every now and then, the whirring would become so intense that the device would start to oscillate on diagonal axes. It looked like it could spin out of control at any second and fly off, perhaps to begin ricocheting around the room or perhaps bisecting some poor bistander.
"CourseMan! Pleasant to meet you. I'm BlessMan, leader of the Blessers. This lovely woman here is my daughter, Joor-Joor-Joor..." he began, his mouth moving with mechanical, repetitive motions until he finally clutched his head, seemingly in pain.
Jury turned her head with a worried expression, then raised her hand to indicate he ought to stay quiet while she finished. "Jury. Thank you for agreeing to attend today. It certainly reassures me to know that this negotiation isn't going to be entirely in the hands of the Mafia. It is very important that we get our people back, so that we can handle both their punishment and carrying on Shok's important work. Honestly, the two have been nothing but trouble for the Mafia, from what I've heard. You can imagine my surprise when Kismet didn't simply concede to hand them over to us and started attaching strings to the deal," she sighed. Here, she paused, then smiled. "I also understand that you've tried to be good to them both, from what the jailer told me. I appreciate that. Not that I wanted either to commit a jailbreak or anything, as that'd heighten tensions between us and the Mafia... but I certainly had been hoping we'd get them both back, sooner or later."
BlessMan finally seemed to get in control of his headache and pitched in on the conversation. "It sounds to me like you were trying to be a little more than good with them. From what I hear, you've been sending Mime presents. Are you flirting with both of them, Sir? Should I be worried about my daughter?" he asked with a chuckle, his eyes smiling. Suddenly, he seemed cordial and pleasant. "Mime was a nice, quiet girl. We were all heartbroken when she left the Blessers. When Shok followed her, we knew it was for good- for the good- good- good... Aaaruuuugh," BlessMan cried out, now beset by another headache. He gripped both hands to the head of his staff and struggled to stand; Jury moved to support him. It might occur to CourseMan that there were no beds, seats, or even tables in this room; no furniture at all that he'd be able to actually sit down or lie upon.
From his side, Jury cast a more pleading glance to CourseMan. "Sir... It's very important that we get Shok back with us... Her research is... well... it's just very important," she murmured, casting her eyes down at the floor for a moment, then back up to his own.
last edited by
While he listened to Kismet's answers and further briefing, Courser nodded once to her questioning of his decoy's capabilities, and listened to her description of her combat helm's input capabilities.
"Yes. The decoys give the full array of sensory input as though I were in their position. I will admit I do sometimes have some difficulty maintaining independent operation and conversations with more than two at once, alongside myself. Especially not if I end up looking at myself through multiple sets of eyes. Gives me a headache. Having a few independent sets of sense data to juggle at once is ok, but having three different conversations simultaneously gets a bit messy..." As he spoke, one clone faded into form, leaning over his shoulder and winking at Kismet with a grin.
"Fancy words so he can pretend he's not losing his marbles, am I right?" A small curl of irritation tugged at Courser's lips and his eyes flicked up, banishing the clone immediately.
"Regardless... I would actually agree that it might be a good idea to leave your helmet off for these negotiations, not because of its functions, but because what we are doing here is attempting to negotiate an agreement. It's easier to reach an accord with someone when everyone appears personable and relatable. Being able to see your face clearly will have more impact than you might think, in a situation like this. Your decision but that would be my recommendation." He made a small open-handed gesture to one side as he spoke this time, signifying that the choice was really hers to make regarding how she wanted to appear to the other side, then un-crossed his arms from the back of the chair he was seated on and stood. Giving Kismet a moment to make her decision, and buying time to speak words elsewhere without getting himself confused, Courser wandered over to the place where the two prisoners were being kept, presumably separately. He put one hand to the opaque glass and briefly pushed a decoy out of the wall on the other side, looking about for Mime first. Provided he could find her eyes, in whatever state she was in, the decoy grinned, then winked at her, before disappearing back into curls of shadow.
"At any rate," He spoke up, turning back to Kismet and returning to the table. "I think we should bring miss Jury in now, and I can set out the ground rules for this discussion to both of you so that we can get started. Whenever you're ready." Courser himself was more than happy to see about escorting Jury into the room, if it seemed like that ought to be more his job than anyone else's, but either way made it as smooth as he could to move proceedings along to the point that both women were seated at the table, with him still nonchalantly perched on his reversed chair, arms on the back and looking between them both.
Inside the holding room for the other party, Courser's main decoy took the opportunity to look over both BlessMan and Jury herself. There was a moment where he had to wonder what the old man had been like when he wasn't badly damaged and deteriorating, and another part of him that wondered right on the heels of that, if he had ever actually functioned properly to begin with, or if he'd been created in the dangerous, imbalanced state he was in. He listened to Jury's explanation, but after she was done held up one hand to both calm and forestall her. Internally, he was glad to simply listen to Jury while the real CourseMan conversed with Kismet, outside; he wanted to avoid holding split conversations as much as he was able, this time. Eventually he had to speak up
"I am just here as a neutral party to adjudicate, and to ensure that agreement is reached and everybody remains civil. I'm not presiding over your case, or making any kind of decision here. that must be between you and Kismet, at this point. I can empathise with what you say, and I appreciate learning a little more of your background and motivations, but as a neutral party, there's no cause to convince me of your needs. Yes, I have been as kind as I could to both Shok and Mime, but but understand that that is not because I hold them innocent of anything; it is because I am not passing judgement on them in the first place." He inclined his head to her, and then once again to BlessMan, and rolled his shoulders.
"At any rate, we'll bring you in now, Miss Jury, and I can set out the ground rules for this discussion to both of you so that we can get started. Whenever you're ready." The decoy faded away smoothly as it bowed with one hand over its chest, and before long the real CourseMan saw to having just Jury herself escorted to the negotiation table opposite Kismet.
"So. Thank you both for agreeing to discuss this matter in a peaceful negotiation and agreeing to come to terms in an amicable fashion. As you both know, my name is CourseMan, though you may each call me Courser if you prefer, and I am a neutral representative here to moderate and adjudicate your discussion, and facilitate and agreement. To that end, if I may begin, I would like to set some rules for this table that you will both agree to before we begin discussions." He cast his eyes between the two of them, then pulled his chair back a little so that he could see them both in his field of vision without having to turn his head.
"We will begin with each party stating what they wish to achieve from this discussion. What is their most ideal outcome, and, as part of that, what actions they intend to take regarding the two prisoners, if they should end up in their custody. Each party will be given an equal opportunity to speak, and they will be allowed to do so. The other will not interrupt this, no matter what they think of the goals, or whether they wish to argue it or refute it; a chance to do so will come later. At this stage, you will each speak your goals, and you will listen and respect the right of the other to speak theirs as well, without interruption. Is this understood and agreed upon?" Provided it was, Courser lifted one hand to gesture towards Jury.
"If so then I'll call on Jury to speak first and state the goals and desires of the Blessers in this matter." He gave the unblessed Blesser a chance to tell Kismet and himself what she wanted to achieve from the discussion — presumably that she wanted custody of both women and he expected that deletion would be no part of the discipline she planned to be levied on them for their crimes. Even so, he let he speak, and watched to see if Kismet could clear the first hurdle of cordiality in doing the same... if she couldn't, then he would need to speak up and caution her, but otherwise, when Jury was finished he nodded and thanked her, then turned his other hand towards Kismet.
"And now, I'll call Kismet to state the goals and desires of the Mafia in his matter." For now, he simply waited and listened to what Kismet had to say in return, and was prepared to caution Jury if she interrupted, though he wasn't expecting there to be as much chance of that from her side. For the most part, he was expecting Kismet's case to be that the two women's crimes against the mafia demanded capital punishment by the mafia, or an assurance of such from the Blessers at the very least.... He wondered, if they made their cases as he was roughly expecting, how to help them achieve a solution to the impasse.
For now, he didn't send any more decoys or clones anywhere to spy or converse; his attention was focused entirely on the negotiation table for the time being, and keeping himself under control as well.
"Yes. The decoys give the full array of sensory input as though I were in their position. I will admit I do sometimes have some difficulty maintaining independent operation and conversations with more than two at once, alongside myself. Especially not if I end up looking at myself through multiple sets of eyes. Gives me a headache. Having a few independent sets of sense data to juggle at once is ok, but having three different conversations simultaneously gets a bit messy..." As he spoke, one clone faded into form, leaning over his shoulder and winking at Kismet with a grin.
"Fancy words so he can pretend he's not losing his marbles, am I right?" A small curl of irritation tugged at Courser's lips and his eyes flicked up, banishing the clone immediately.
"Regardless... I would actually agree that it might be a good idea to leave your helmet off for these negotiations, not because of its functions, but because what we are doing here is attempting to negotiate an agreement. It's easier to reach an accord with someone when everyone appears personable and relatable. Being able to see your face clearly will have more impact than you might think, in a situation like this. Your decision but that would be my recommendation." He made a small open-handed gesture to one side as he spoke this time, signifying that the choice was really hers to make regarding how she wanted to appear to the other side, then un-crossed his arms from the back of the chair he was seated on and stood. Giving Kismet a moment to make her decision, and buying time to speak words elsewhere without getting himself confused, Courser wandered over to the place where the two prisoners were being kept, presumably separately. He put one hand to the opaque glass and briefly pushed a decoy out of the wall on the other side, looking about for Mime first. Provided he could find her eyes, in whatever state she was in, the decoy grinned, then winked at her, before disappearing back into curls of shadow.
"At any rate," He spoke up, turning back to Kismet and returning to the table. "I think we should bring miss Jury in now, and I can set out the ground rules for this discussion to both of you so that we can get started. Whenever you're ready." Courser himself was more than happy to see about escorting Jury into the room, if it seemed like that ought to be more his job than anyone else's, but either way made it as smooth as he could to move proceedings along to the point that both women were seated at the table, with him still nonchalantly perched on his reversed chair, arms on the back and looking between them both.
Inside the holding room for the other party, Courser's main decoy took the opportunity to look over both BlessMan and Jury herself. There was a moment where he had to wonder what the old man had been like when he wasn't badly damaged and deteriorating, and another part of him that wondered right on the heels of that, if he had ever actually functioned properly to begin with, or if he'd been created in the dangerous, imbalanced state he was in. He listened to Jury's explanation, but after she was done held up one hand to both calm and forestall her. Internally, he was glad to simply listen to Jury while the real CourseMan conversed with Kismet, outside; he wanted to avoid holding split conversations as much as he was able, this time. Eventually he had to speak up
"I am just here as a neutral party to adjudicate, and to ensure that agreement is reached and everybody remains civil. I'm not presiding over your case, or making any kind of decision here. that must be between you and Kismet, at this point. I can empathise with what you say, and I appreciate learning a little more of your background and motivations, but as a neutral party, there's no cause to convince me of your needs. Yes, I have been as kind as I could to both Shok and Mime, but but understand that that is not because I hold them innocent of anything; it is because I am not passing judgement on them in the first place." He inclined his head to her, and then once again to BlessMan, and rolled his shoulders.
"At any rate, we'll bring you in now, Miss Jury, and I can set out the ground rules for this discussion to both of you so that we can get started. Whenever you're ready." The decoy faded away smoothly as it bowed with one hand over its chest, and before long the real CourseMan saw to having just Jury herself escorted to the negotiation table opposite Kismet.
"So. Thank you both for agreeing to discuss this matter in a peaceful negotiation and agreeing to come to terms in an amicable fashion. As you both know, my name is CourseMan, though you may each call me Courser if you prefer, and I am a neutral representative here to moderate and adjudicate your discussion, and facilitate and agreement. To that end, if I may begin, I would like to set some rules for this table that you will both agree to before we begin discussions." He cast his eyes between the two of them, then pulled his chair back a little so that he could see them both in his field of vision without having to turn his head.
"We will begin with each party stating what they wish to achieve from this discussion. What is their most ideal outcome, and, as part of that, what actions they intend to take regarding the two prisoners, if they should end up in their custody. Each party will be given an equal opportunity to speak, and they will be allowed to do so. The other will not interrupt this, no matter what they think of the goals, or whether they wish to argue it or refute it; a chance to do so will come later. At this stage, you will each speak your goals, and you will listen and respect the right of the other to speak theirs as well, without interruption. Is this understood and agreed upon?" Provided it was, Courser lifted one hand to gesture towards Jury.
"If so then I'll call on Jury to speak first and state the goals and desires of the Blessers in this matter." He gave the unblessed Blesser a chance to tell Kismet and himself what she wanted to achieve from the discussion — presumably that she wanted custody of both women and he expected that deletion would be no part of the discipline she planned to be levied on them for their crimes. Even so, he let he speak, and watched to see if Kismet could clear the first hurdle of cordiality in doing the same... if she couldn't, then he would need to speak up and caution her, but otherwise, when Jury was finished he nodded and thanked her, then turned his other hand towards Kismet.
"And now, I'll call Kismet to state the goals and desires of the Mafia in his matter." For now, he simply waited and listened to what Kismet had to say in return, and was prepared to caution Jury if she interrupted, though he wasn't expecting there to be as much chance of that from her side. For the most part, he was expecting Kismet's case to be that the two women's crimes against the mafia demanded capital punishment by the mafia, or an assurance of such from the Blessers at the very least.... He wondered, if they made their cases as he was roughly expecting, how to help them achieve a solution to the impasse.
For now, he didn't send any more decoys or clones anywhere to spy or converse; his attention was focused entirely on the negotiation table for the time being, and keeping himself under control as well.
last edited by
"Hmph. I don't know your full situation, but around here, any sort of disorder that might result in or from the use of these copies of oneself, I'd consider comparatively manageable. You met Gala... consider her your measuring stick of how far you are allowed to push your flights of insanity before it becomes dangerous to Mafia business and I am forced to intervene," Kismet responded, still frowning hard, even though it sort of sounded as though she'd been making a joke. "If you believe it would be best that I work without the helmet, then I'll do so," the mafioso nodded, proving agreeable enough on that point, at least. The constant grimace made it hard to think she'd seem much more agreeable without the helmet, of course.
As for the next CourseMan, he would discover that the other room had a little more in the way of furniture but nothing more in the way of comfort. Kismet had apparently gone all in on her measures to make certain that Mime didn't pull another fast one... Mime and Shok weren't separated any further than being set on either side of the rooms, but each was strapped onto a standing bed, with wheels currently placing them into a vertical orientation. Each woman was secured with an extreme series of harnasses as well as metal braces, restricting the entire movement of their bodies, including any motion of the neck or head. Only their faces could move, but even then, both women were wearing both gags (this was not atypical for Shok) and eye-masks. In this state, they couldn't do much more than breath, for whatever extent they needed to. They'd be able to hear, but that'd be about it... Neither would be able to catch his roguish wink, unfortunately.
Back in the main room, Kismet nodded, then gestured to the door. "Yes, please have your clone bring the two of them in," she agreed, since he appeared to be offering. She'd stand, regardless, likely waiting for Jury to enter so that she could begin with a handshake and take a seat when Jury did, as was polite.
Jury's face was mostly inexpressive, but as much as she wanted to be polite, it was hard for her to hide the disappointment in her eyes. "I understand, of course... But this is the Mafia. You can make your own judgment, but their interest is historically one-and only: self-interest. They already hold the prisoners... This negotiation isn't starting on even ground. You're sadly mistaken if you think that mafioso plans to yield anything to us at all in this conversation. I don't know why she brought you in... why she really brought you in, I mean... But I know that you throwing a wrench into her plan is the only way that we can come out of this with Shok and Mime freed. I'm probably just hurting my case... but you knowing this is important," she insisted.
BlessMan smiled in spite of that heavy talk, then waved one hand. "Now, now. If the man isn't ready to accept my Blessing yet, it's no concern! But young sir, I'm sure you'll come around when you learn of all the great things we Blessers can do to serve others and in pursuit of our stated goals, our great motivations!" he chuckled, seemingly unaware that he wasn't responding to anything anyone had actually said. "Mine, for instance, was to empower people with the strength needed to achieve impossible goals. That's my blessing: the First Blessing. The ability to grant other navis the power to... power to..." he trailed off, growing suddenly tired and leaning on his staff again.
Jury patted his hand again, then looked back to CourseMan with a grave expression and gave a small nod. He'd indicated to leave BlessMan behind, so she followed him out alone. The two exchanged some brief greetings before sitting down on either side of the table. Both girls nodded, one with an unsightly scowl on her face, the other with an unreadable frown. Jury wasn't tall, but compared to the hunched, already short Kismet, she seemed to have more of an impressive stature than she actually did. The stately woman cleared her throat, set her eyebrows into a firm line, then began. "The goal of the Blessers is to bring back both Shok and Mime into our custody. I understand that both have been involved in some heinous activity and we do plan to get to the bottom of that and punish them for it. That punishment will consist, first of all, of judgment in Blesser's Court, where I preside as judge. If found guilty, we will strip them of the blessings they've been provided. This always has a detrimental effect to one's health, in our experience, but it is necessary that those without the ability to wisely handle their blessings be deprived of it. After that, a former Blesser enters a period of redemption where they must prove themselves again true to the motivations which granted them their blessings. For Shok, that was the desire to study and cure disorders. For Mime, that was to entertain. They must first prove to be no harm to others, then to be true to their callings; if they do, then at some point in the future, their blessings may be restored." She made no mention of some of the details she'd given to CourseMan in private earlier, but if she was guilty about that, she kept her composure well.
Kismet, to her credit, had kept very quiet, but she was glaring harder than ever, with her gloved hands folded beneath her chin. She raised her chin, then began talking at some length, sounding as though speaking with a dry mouth. "Our goals are more straightforward. I intend to see them both punished fully. Now, I don't believe in anything as vulgar as 'an eye for an eye', but with each of these navis having multiple murders on their hands, as proven by the eye-witness of their Mafia peers as well as myself, and thoroughly investigated beyond that, I think capital punishment may be in order. If the Blessers will agree to deliver that punishment, then I will concede to hand over the prisoners. Otherwise, we will carry out the punishment here. Nothing less than execution will be sufficient. Besides their willingness to murder Mafia members, both navis have shown a craftiness and drive in their murders that makes their continued existence a threat to my organization. Letting them go would be negligent on my part as a member of the Head family. The idea of releasing them so that they can repent by working their way back up to god-like, powerful Blessers again is purely ridiculous." Animosity was clearly evident in her voice... it was certainly going to be an uphill battle finding middle ground between the two. She paused here to look back to CourseMan, then she took a chance at adding in a harmless comment of her own. "You may have heard of my superhuman 'luck' which is actually derived from computational skills. I receive rapid feeds of data while wearing that helmet. So long as I'm not wearing it, you can be assured I'm not... 'cheating.'" She spread her hands here and gave out a sigh like she was exhausted. It was possible she'd already guessed that Jury saw this as a no-win situation for herself.
Jury had her lower lip drawn up tight, as if she'd steeled herself, but her voice was still very calm when she responded. "In a similar show of faith, I've removed my armor for the proceedings. We can certainly solve this in a civilized way. It's not so different from Blesser's Court," she insisted.
"But you do wear your armor around your fellow Blessers. Funny," Kismet retorted, lowering her eyebrows critically, as though she actually found it more disturbing than she did amusing. It was clear that CourseMan was going to have to reign both sides in, or at least Kismet... No one could set the rules or decide how to enforce them but him right now, though. It would be hard for the average person to decide how much authority they actually had in this situation. It would be equally hard to decide if he ought to go in hard and try to apply a stranglehold on the whole thing, muscling over both girls to keep them in line, or if he ought to defuse the situation with charm and wit, lightening tensions.
As for the next CourseMan, he would discover that the other room had a little more in the way of furniture but nothing more in the way of comfort. Kismet had apparently gone all in on her measures to make certain that Mime didn't pull another fast one... Mime and Shok weren't separated any further than being set on either side of the rooms, but each was strapped onto a standing bed, with wheels currently placing them into a vertical orientation. Each woman was secured with an extreme series of harnasses as well as metal braces, restricting the entire movement of their bodies, including any motion of the neck or head. Only their faces could move, but even then, both women were wearing both gags (this was not atypical for Shok) and eye-masks. In this state, they couldn't do much more than breath, for whatever extent they needed to. They'd be able to hear, but that'd be about it... Neither would be able to catch his roguish wink, unfortunately.
Back in the main room, Kismet nodded, then gestured to the door. "Yes, please have your clone bring the two of them in," she agreed, since he appeared to be offering. She'd stand, regardless, likely waiting for Jury to enter so that she could begin with a handshake and take a seat when Jury did, as was polite.
Jury's face was mostly inexpressive, but as much as she wanted to be polite, it was hard for her to hide the disappointment in her eyes. "I understand, of course... But this is the Mafia. You can make your own judgment, but their interest is historically one-and only: self-interest. They already hold the prisoners... This negotiation isn't starting on even ground. You're sadly mistaken if you think that mafioso plans to yield anything to us at all in this conversation. I don't know why she brought you in... why she really brought you in, I mean... But I know that you throwing a wrench into her plan is the only way that we can come out of this with Shok and Mime freed. I'm probably just hurting my case... but you knowing this is important," she insisted.
BlessMan smiled in spite of that heavy talk, then waved one hand. "Now, now. If the man isn't ready to accept my Blessing yet, it's no concern! But young sir, I'm sure you'll come around when you learn of all the great things we Blessers can do to serve others and in pursuit of our stated goals, our great motivations!" he chuckled, seemingly unaware that he wasn't responding to anything anyone had actually said. "Mine, for instance, was to empower people with the strength needed to achieve impossible goals. That's my blessing: the First Blessing. The ability to grant other navis the power to... power to..." he trailed off, growing suddenly tired and leaning on his staff again.
Jury patted his hand again, then looked back to CourseMan with a grave expression and gave a small nod. He'd indicated to leave BlessMan behind, so she followed him out alone. The two exchanged some brief greetings before sitting down on either side of the table. Both girls nodded, one with an unsightly scowl on her face, the other with an unreadable frown. Jury wasn't tall, but compared to the hunched, already short Kismet, she seemed to have more of an impressive stature than she actually did. The stately woman cleared her throat, set her eyebrows into a firm line, then began. "The goal of the Blessers is to bring back both Shok and Mime into our custody. I understand that both have been involved in some heinous activity and we do plan to get to the bottom of that and punish them for it. That punishment will consist, first of all, of judgment in Blesser's Court, where I preside as judge. If found guilty, we will strip them of the blessings they've been provided. This always has a detrimental effect to one's health, in our experience, but it is necessary that those without the ability to wisely handle their blessings be deprived of it. After that, a former Blesser enters a period of redemption where they must prove themselves again true to the motivations which granted them their blessings. For Shok, that was the desire to study and cure disorders. For Mime, that was to entertain. They must first prove to be no harm to others, then to be true to their callings; if they do, then at some point in the future, their blessings may be restored." She made no mention of some of the details she'd given to CourseMan in private earlier, but if she was guilty about that, she kept her composure well.
Kismet, to her credit, had kept very quiet, but she was glaring harder than ever, with her gloved hands folded beneath her chin. She raised her chin, then began talking at some length, sounding as though speaking with a dry mouth. "Our goals are more straightforward. I intend to see them both punished fully. Now, I don't believe in anything as vulgar as 'an eye for an eye', but with each of these navis having multiple murders on their hands, as proven by the eye-witness of their Mafia peers as well as myself, and thoroughly investigated beyond that, I think capital punishment may be in order. If the Blessers will agree to deliver that punishment, then I will concede to hand over the prisoners. Otherwise, we will carry out the punishment here. Nothing less than execution will be sufficient. Besides their willingness to murder Mafia members, both navis have shown a craftiness and drive in their murders that makes their continued existence a threat to my organization. Letting them go would be negligent on my part as a member of the Head family. The idea of releasing them so that they can repent by working their way back up to god-like, powerful Blessers again is purely ridiculous." Animosity was clearly evident in her voice... it was certainly going to be an uphill battle finding middle ground between the two. She paused here to look back to CourseMan, then she took a chance at adding in a harmless comment of her own. "You may have heard of my superhuman 'luck' which is actually derived from computational skills. I receive rapid feeds of data while wearing that helmet. So long as I'm not wearing it, you can be assured I'm not... 'cheating.'" She spread her hands here and gave out a sigh like she was exhausted. It was possible she'd already guessed that Jury saw this as a no-win situation for herself.
Jury had her lower lip drawn up tight, as if she'd steeled herself, but her voice was still very calm when she responded. "In a similar show of faith, I've removed my armor for the proceedings. We can certainly solve this in a civilized way. It's not so different from Blesser's Court," she insisted.
"But you do wear your armor around your fellow Blessers. Funny," Kismet retorted, lowering her eyebrows critically, as though she actually found it more disturbing than she did amusing. It was clear that CourseMan was going to have to reign both sides in, or at least Kismet... No one could set the rules or decide how to enforce them but him right now, though. It would be hard for the average person to decide how much authority they actually had in this situation. It would be equally hard to decide if he ought to go in hard and try to apply a stranglehold on the whole thing, muscling over both girls to keep them in line, or if he ought to defuse the situation with charm and wit, lightening tensions.
last edited by
With the two contentious parties at the table, Courser let them both speak their goals, and was both surprised and relieved that they followed his requests so far. Small amounts of snipping aside, both Kismet and Jury had stated their desires clearly, and as far as he could be sure, honestly. that was a good start. He motioned briefly to both of them for quiet before they could snip and cat any further at each other, and began talking right away to back up the power of his hand motions. It didn't matter what the words were at first, so long as the dynamic of the situation was established and held.
"Thank you both. Now, each of you have stated your goals for these discussions, but you both understand that what we are here to do today is to negotiate, and to reach an agreement. You both understand also that this does not mean reaching a result that you are entirely happy with; in finding agreement, it is likely that the the result will be something that neither of you are completely happy with — the hope is that it is an agreement that you both find acceptable." He folded his hands in front of himself again, smiling in as reassuring a manner as he could manage.
"This means that the statements you have both just made are not likely to be the final result of our discussions, and in coming to this table to negotiate, both both understand that this is the case, as you are both mature and reasonable women, and adults. So, let us now begin to negotiate. Jury." courser turned his head to face the Blesser representative.
"On behalf of the Mafia, Kismet holds claim that both Mime and Shok have both committed several murders each — that they have, with extensive investigation witnesses, and other substantial proofs, ended the lives of multiple navigators. We make no judgement or claim upon the reasons or circumstances of their actions, but speaking just for the actions alone, do you dispute this claim? If so, on what grounds, and if not, what is your response to these established facts?"
Holding the open space on the table with small gestures of his hands, Courser allowed space for Jury to speak, while simultaneously indicating with his other hand that Kismet should let her answer in peace. When she finished, he didn't allow any chance for further snipping to to take place but instead turned his eyes to the smaller woman, inverting the position of his hands to gesture Jury to quiet while he addressed Kismet and let her speak in turn.
"Kismet. You state that your primary interest in this is the safety and protection of your organisation. You see capital punishment of these two navis as the only sure way to ensure that they cannot pose further threat to the navis that work within your ranks and are, for all intents and purposes, navis to whom you have something of a duty of care to, in this respect. If this is your goal, and it could be proven to your satisfaction that some other form of rehabilitation would render these two navis sufficiently harmless to you and yours, would you accept it? If so, what level of assurance and proof would you require to be satisfied of this, and if not, why not?" As before, he gave the table to Kismet to speak without interruption, and though he listened to each of their responses in turn, Courser's mind was working on its own.
He didn't doubt the sentiment behind Jury's goals; her ideal would see the two navis in a position where they genuinely were not threat to anyone. If they were, and genuinely so, he had little doubt that Kismet would be content to never see either of the two again, at this stage. The issue was that that result wasn't something that could actually be attained in the current situation — for all their efforts, he severely doubted that Jury and the other Blessers could rehabilitate Mime and Shok to the extend necessary to see them healthy and functional, and not a threat... and chances were Kismet was well aware of that as well, which, in turn, was likely why she was insisting on death as the only acceptable sentence. What to do? The infuriating bit of it was that they were all mostly on the same page, in the long run.
He stood to walk slowly around the room, listening to each woman say give their various responses, and after making a lap let one finger brush against the glass of Shok and Mime's cell, before returning to his seat and returning his focus to the negotiations. Inside the cell, the clone that materialised through the wall looked at each of the prisoners in their complete sensory lock-down. Regardless of the danger, it seemed uncomfortably barbaric to him. Silently, the decoy crossed the space to where Mime was bound and leaned in close to bring its lips close to her ear. With no sound of movement or body warmth, his whispered words would be the first sign she had that there was anything there at all.
"Hey there, Sunshine." He spoke in the quietest of whispers, enough, he hoped, to make sure Shok didn't hear anything, but he was confident that Mime would recognise his voice. There was a note of sedate worry in the tone that he couldn't quite disguise. "No-one dies today, if I can help it. That won't make you happy, I know, but for now you're a matched set, and I'll take you alive over her dead, if those are my only options." The decoy drew back, watching. There wasn't a lot to be read on the woman, given her restrained and muffled state, but he watched for some sign of how she took the sudden whisper.
After a moment, he slipped over to where Shok was restrained and whispered to her as well, keeping his voice just as low.
"Hey there, Sparky." There was less worry and more professional seriousness in his words to this one, but Courser himself didn't notice the difference. "This might matter. You treat Blessers, stall the madness and the break own. You haven't ever stopped it completely or cured it though, have you? Have you worked on BlessMan himself?" Treatment was all well and good, after all, but unless there was a cure in the offing... to be blessed was to be doomed in the end.
"Thank you both. Now, each of you have stated your goals for these discussions, but you both understand that what we are here to do today is to negotiate, and to reach an agreement. You both understand also that this does not mean reaching a result that you are entirely happy with; in finding agreement, it is likely that the the result will be something that neither of you are completely happy with — the hope is that it is an agreement that you both find acceptable." He folded his hands in front of himself again, smiling in as reassuring a manner as he could manage.
"This means that the statements you have both just made are not likely to be the final result of our discussions, and in coming to this table to negotiate, both both understand that this is the case, as you are both mature and reasonable women, and adults. So, let us now begin to negotiate. Jury." courser turned his head to face the Blesser representative.
"On behalf of the Mafia, Kismet holds claim that both Mime and Shok have both committed several murders each — that they have, with extensive investigation witnesses, and other substantial proofs, ended the lives of multiple navigators. We make no judgement or claim upon the reasons or circumstances of their actions, but speaking just for the actions alone, do you dispute this claim? If so, on what grounds, and if not, what is your response to these established facts?"
Holding the open space on the table with small gestures of his hands, Courser allowed space for Jury to speak, while simultaneously indicating with his other hand that Kismet should let her answer in peace. When she finished, he didn't allow any chance for further snipping to to take place but instead turned his eyes to the smaller woman, inverting the position of his hands to gesture Jury to quiet while he addressed Kismet and let her speak in turn.
"Kismet. You state that your primary interest in this is the safety and protection of your organisation. You see capital punishment of these two navis as the only sure way to ensure that they cannot pose further threat to the navis that work within your ranks and are, for all intents and purposes, navis to whom you have something of a duty of care to, in this respect. If this is your goal, and it could be proven to your satisfaction that some other form of rehabilitation would render these two navis sufficiently harmless to you and yours, would you accept it? If so, what level of assurance and proof would you require to be satisfied of this, and if not, why not?" As before, he gave the table to Kismet to speak without interruption, and though he listened to each of their responses in turn, Courser's mind was working on its own.
He didn't doubt the sentiment behind Jury's goals; her ideal would see the two navis in a position where they genuinely were not threat to anyone. If they were, and genuinely so, he had little doubt that Kismet would be content to never see either of the two again, at this stage. The issue was that that result wasn't something that could actually be attained in the current situation — for all their efforts, he severely doubted that Jury and the other Blessers could rehabilitate Mime and Shok to the extend necessary to see them healthy and functional, and not a threat... and chances were Kismet was well aware of that as well, which, in turn, was likely why she was insisting on death as the only acceptable sentence. What to do? The infuriating bit of it was that they were all mostly on the same page, in the long run.
He stood to walk slowly around the room, listening to each woman say give their various responses, and after making a lap let one finger brush against the glass of Shok and Mime's cell, before returning to his seat and returning his focus to the negotiations. Inside the cell, the clone that materialised through the wall looked at each of the prisoners in their complete sensory lock-down. Regardless of the danger, it seemed uncomfortably barbaric to him. Silently, the decoy crossed the space to where Mime was bound and leaned in close to bring its lips close to her ear. With no sound of movement or body warmth, his whispered words would be the first sign she had that there was anything there at all.
"Hey there, Sunshine." He spoke in the quietest of whispers, enough, he hoped, to make sure Shok didn't hear anything, but he was confident that Mime would recognise his voice. There was a note of sedate worry in the tone that he couldn't quite disguise. "No-one dies today, if I can help it. That won't make you happy, I know, but for now you're a matched set, and I'll take you alive over her dead, if those are my only options." The decoy drew back, watching. There wasn't a lot to be read on the woman, given her restrained and muffled state, but he watched for some sign of how she took the sudden whisper.
After a moment, he slipped over to where Shok was restrained and whispered to her as well, keeping his voice just as low.
"Hey there, Sparky." There was less worry and more professional seriousness in his words to this one, but Courser himself didn't notice the difference. "This might matter. You treat Blessers, stall the madness and the break own. You haven't ever stopped it completely or cured it though, have you? Have you worked on BlessMan himself?" Treatment was all well and good, after all, but unless there was a cure in the offing... to be blessed was to be doomed in the end.
last edited by
Although both navis nodded along with CourseMan, their expressions were unchanging... both girls had certain sections of their wishes that were diametrically opposed to the other's, so he had a point: both couldn't get what they wanted. At this point, though, it was hard to imagine that either one of them was planning to surrender much ground in the debate, considering the stakes on either side... both girls seemed to represent their whole factions in this.
Jury listened to CourseMan's questions, furrowing her brow slightly but otherwise remaining expressionless. It was hard to tell if that was an expression of heavy thinking or if she objected to the line of questioning, but regardless, it wasn't as frightful an expression as Kismet wore on a regular basis, and she did answer the question plainly enough. "I do not have facts to dispute or support the claim. I only wish to re-examine all relevant details in Blesser's Court," Jury insisted, keeping her hands folded at her lap.
"Huh. If they were your eye-witnesses it'd all be okay, but you can't trust the Mafia's?" Kismet asked, her frown turning up a little on one side. It was hard to tell if that was a smirk or some other expression... it certainly wasn't a smile, regardless. It was also pretty hard to stop either side from snipping with only intention... he'd need a specific plan if he was going to stop the sassy banter, even if that was just raising his voice to talk over them.
"... Correct. The Mafia is an entity that, you will admit, has its own interests in mind. Each of its members, presumably, will act according to those interests. You talk of eye-witnesses, crimes that occurred, and so forth, but aren't all of those witnesses mafioso? Would not all records of those events be Mafia records? I hate to be contentious this early on, but we will need a Blesser led investigation to determine the validity," Jury answered, keeping her eyes locked on Kismet's.
The mafioso on the other side shrugged, then leaned on her fist and rest the other palm against the desk. She kept quiet now and listened to Courser's next line of questioning. She shrugged again, gazing sidelong and away from either party as she answered, like an irate child; her reserve of expressions seemed to be limited to only those that made her look very impatient and unfortunately petulant. "Yes, I would be willing to accept some other means that rendered them harmless. However, you must understand that I've seen Mime's keen resourcefulness firsthand. The only way I'd be willing to accept that she is no longer a threat, apart from her deletion, would be to see either her cognitive functions locked or deleted or her powers somehow completely stripped from her. I don't know how you'd visually present the power removal to me, so it would have to be either killing her or making her braindead," Kismet answered coldly.
Jury didn't make any counterpoint this time, but she did narrow her eyes. Was she thinking about the possible fate of the former Blessers, or was her mind on her organization as a whole? Or possibly just her father? Her eyes, as well as Kismet's, turned to CourseMan as he momentarily paced the room. The silence in the room, apart from the clap of his own feet against the hard floors, was deafening.
Inside the room with the captives, another CourseMan clone was holding an interrogation away from the debate. Mime's face reacted for a moment, with telltale movements of her lips around the gag and her eyebrows behind the blindfold, but there wasn't much else she could do to respond; she couldn't even nod or shake her head as is. The surprised look on her face made two things clear: one, that she hadn't been aware he'd be here, and two, that she didn't know the details of the debate going on outside, as her expression remained confused well into his statement of his own intentions.
For her part, "Sparky" was pretty capable of answering CourseMan, even while gagged. She had some experience in talking around one, probably, based on her usual costuming of restraining belts. "Nmph. Ysh," she responded simply, presumably meaning to say no and yes respectively. As usual, her expression was stuck in the grotesque expression of someone mid-electroshock, so she perhaps didn't lose much from having her eyes masked. "Mrr hrph trfrrphruh mr?" she asked, sounding vaguely curious. There was only so much she could really communicate with her lips still bound... of course, there didn't appear to be any key on anything restraining the two girls. He would be perfectly capable of loosening up the gags, or anything else he might want/need to loosen up.
Jury listened to CourseMan's questions, furrowing her brow slightly but otherwise remaining expressionless. It was hard to tell if that was an expression of heavy thinking or if she objected to the line of questioning, but regardless, it wasn't as frightful an expression as Kismet wore on a regular basis, and she did answer the question plainly enough. "I do not have facts to dispute or support the claim. I only wish to re-examine all relevant details in Blesser's Court," Jury insisted, keeping her hands folded at her lap.
"Huh. If they were your eye-witnesses it'd all be okay, but you can't trust the Mafia's?" Kismet asked, her frown turning up a little on one side. It was hard to tell if that was a smirk or some other expression... it certainly wasn't a smile, regardless. It was also pretty hard to stop either side from snipping with only intention... he'd need a specific plan if he was going to stop the sassy banter, even if that was just raising his voice to talk over them.
"... Correct. The Mafia is an entity that, you will admit, has its own interests in mind. Each of its members, presumably, will act according to those interests. You talk of eye-witnesses, crimes that occurred, and so forth, but aren't all of those witnesses mafioso? Would not all records of those events be Mafia records? I hate to be contentious this early on, but we will need a Blesser led investigation to determine the validity," Jury answered, keeping her eyes locked on Kismet's.
The mafioso on the other side shrugged, then leaned on her fist and rest the other palm against the desk. She kept quiet now and listened to Courser's next line of questioning. She shrugged again, gazing sidelong and away from either party as she answered, like an irate child; her reserve of expressions seemed to be limited to only those that made her look very impatient and unfortunately petulant. "Yes, I would be willing to accept some other means that rendered them harmless. However, you must understand that I've seen Mime's keen resourcefulness firsthand. The only way I'd be willing to accept that she is no longer a threat, apart from her deletion, would be to see either her cognitive functions locked or deleted or her powers somehow completely stripped from her. I don't know how you'd visually present the power removal to me, so it would have to be either killing her or making her braindead," Kismet answered coldly.
Jury didn't make any counterpoint this time, but she did narrow her eyes. Was she thinking about the possible fate of the former Blessers, or was her mind on her organization as a whole? Or possibly just her father? Her eyes, as well as Kismet's, turned to CourseMan as he momentarily paced the room. The silence in the room, apart from the clap of his own feet against the hard floors, was deafening.
Inside the room with the captives, another CourseMan clone was holding an interrogation away from the debate. Mime's face reacted for a moment, with telltale movements of her lips around the gag and her eyebrows behind the blindfold, but there wasn't much else she could do to respond; she couldn't even nod or shake her head as is. The surprised look on her face made two things clear: one, that she hadn't been aware he'd be here, and two, that she didn't know the details of the debate going on outside, as her expression remained confused well into his statement of his own intentions.
For her part, "Sparky" was pretty capable of answering CourseMan, even while gagged. She had some experience in talking around one, probably, based on her usual costuming of restraining belts. "Nmph. Ysh," she responded simply, presumably meaning to say no and yes respectively. As usual, her expression was stuck in the grotesque expression of someone mid-electroshock, so she perhaps didn't lose much from having her eyes masked. "Mrr hrph trfrrphruh mr?" she asked, sounding vaguely curious. There was only so much she could really communicate with her lips still bound... of course, there didn't appear to be any key on anything restraining the two girls. He would be perfectly capable of loosening up the gags, or anything else he might want/need to loosen up.
last edited by
As the pair of representatives began to snip at each other again between questions, Courser let the comments go. Nothing said was entirely out of hand, and some elements of what each said were still reasonable expectations and wants. Fortunately, they both continued to heed his own cut ins as he moved the conversation along, stage by stage. This time when Kismet finished answering and Jury offered no response, he returned to his place at the table, once against sitting with his arms across the raised back of his chair, between them.
"Let's keep our discussions constructive please. Moving on. Jury." He turned his eyes towards her, signalling with an open palm.
"You say you cannot accept the Mafia's assessment of the crimes, even though the murders in question were committed purely in the midst of their own. You say this is because the Mafia are a self-serving organisation. Please consider then: the Mafia is an organisation that serves the interests and safety of its members. It is self-serving, yes, but it is self-serving in the same way that the vast majority of organisations are self-serving. The Blessers are not exempt from this blanket either, though you are the one casting it today." He held her eyes as he spoke, ready to pause and raise a hand to forestall her if she tried to cut in or object before he was finished.
"You imply that you would only accept the verdict of the murders if they had been examined by a Blessers' inquiry, but you must admit that that is an unreasonable stance in this matter. If the Blessers were the only source capable of rendering reliable facts, then the world as we know it would collapse in a matter of hours, because the Blessers are not everywhere. And yet, the world continues to run, precisely because it is made up of self-serving organisations who have a vested interest in reliable facts and truths. The Blessers are not the only source of reliable information, and at some stage, you will need to allow that other sources are also veritable and reliable. This is not to claim that the Mafia necessarily are in this case, it is just to allow the truth that other sources outside the Blessers also provide reliable facts and investigations. Can you concede this point?"
Jury had to be aware of how insanely unreasonable refusing that particular concession would make her seem, and Courser was expecting no resistance from the woman on that point, though he was prepared, once again, to raise a hand and forestall anything more than a simple yes or no answer from her.
"The Mafia as an organisation, and by the descriptions of Kismet, is interested in serving the interests of, and protecting the safety of, its members, of whom Mime and Shok both previously were. In fact, it is the current contention from Kismet that, until this matter came to a head, the Mafia was unaware of Mime's status as a Blesser at all. She never volunteered the information, and it was not pried into. Consider then, Jury, the position that the Mafia were in at the time of the murders. Death of their own, at the hands of their own. The Mafia, in this instance, would have had no reason to investigate in anything other than as thorough and fair a way as they could, and no motivation to do otherwise. Self-interest, in this case, ensures that; it would look bad both internally and externally, and the matter could only be repaired by reliably finding the truth of the matter and seeking to punish those responsible. Trust within the Mafia itself would depend on it, and upon other Mafia members being confident that the matter had been truthfully resolved. It cannot possibly have been an easily or lightly made decision to excommunicate these two, and certainly not one made without a deal of evidence and support being collected to confirm the truth." Courser paused for a moment, rolling his shoulders, and flicking his eyes betweenthe two women, before returning to Jury.
"Are the Mafia fallible in this? Potentially yes. So too, however, may the Blessers be, and so to may any other source of inquiry ultimately be. Neither the Mafia, nor the Blessers are an unbiased party in this, and if one side cannot be trusted to conduct reliable investigation, based on a claim of self-interest, then neither side may be trusted to do so, for the same reason. This too, is a truth you must concede." He steepled his fingers, then sat back again and stretched.
"The most straight forward solution to this particular point of order is for both the Blessers and the Mafia to agree on an unbiased and independent third party to examine the evidence collected, determine the reliability of the witnesses and come to a conclusion. If the question of the murders themselves is still debated, then we shall have to agree upon a suitable third party together, whom you will both trust, and whom you will both agree to abide by the ruling of. Consider this in silence for a moment, each of you. I'll ask for each of your stances on this in a moment." He took time drawing a longer breath, letting silence drift for a few seconds and holding hands out to each of them for silence if they broke it at this point.
"Kismet." He spoke at last, turning his face towards her and gesturing with an open palm. "If you needed to elect neutral and unbiased third parties that you would be prepared to trust, and whose decision you, speaking for the Mafia, would agree to abide by on this matter, please provide as many names of individuals or organisations that you would accept." He gave her a chance to speak, and provided the Mafioso spoke cleanly and didn't interject with more than she was asked, thanked her quietly, before turning his attention over to Jury, gesturing with his other hand, and repeating the question for her, with a reminder that she was simply giving her own list, and not to speak against any that Kismet had named. As each woman spoke, he produced a small notebook from his pocket and took the lists quietly, being open about what he was writing to the table, then carefully closed the book over, and slid it to one side of where he was sitting.
"Kismet." He spoke with a fresh tone this time, moving on from the subjects in order to address other matters. "You have conceded that you will accept another method of proving that Mime, and indeed Shok, will not present any threat to your organisation, if one can be presented which you find acceptable and reliable. You have stated that you cannot think or see of any such short of death, or what would be effectively death, but you are open to being shown something reliable outside of those options. The removal of her powers, you've stated, would be acceptable, if it could be properly verified to your satisfaction. The Blessers are responsible for bestowing these powers, and have practices in place for removing them as well. You have seen first hand that the powers they bestow through these blessings are, in some manner, very real. You have intimated that you would not be satisfied with a promise from the Blessers to strip these powers. My question then becomes: Is it that you doubt their ability to remove them, or rather, do you doubt that they would do so, if they were in agreement that the procedure was necessary?" Still looking towards Kismet, he pause,d then raised his hand slightly, adding an additional point before indicating that she should speak.
"As you answer, please consider the position of the Blessers in this situation. They wish to preserve the lives of these two individuals, and by extension of that, they wish to be able to continue to mitigate the troubles their organisation faces, and care for those who are under their care, yet suffering, not unlike your desire to see the members of your own organisation safe from harm. They are aware of the stakes, and of your own need to see the threats of these women neutralised. They have no incentive or motive to be dishonest about the stripping of Mime's powers; only a disinclination to do so unless they agree that it must be done. So, what is it about such a promise that you cannot accept?"
In his mind, Courser felt fairly confident that it was less alack of trust, and more a desire for tangible, absolute certainty, on Kismet's behalf, but it was something they needed to work around to in parts, without trying to bite off too much of the problem at once. As before he attempted to keep the two women from snipping at each other outside of the comments he was directing them to make, but generally he was prepared to let the minor back and forths continue so long as each side remained reasonable and wasn't snide or abrasive for the sake of it. It was their negotiation after all, and a certain amount of back and forth between them to better establish their explanations and feelings was necessary. If either party went too far with any of the banter, he was ready to intercede with a sharp word and a single hand moved clearly between them, in the middle of the table, but he was still fairly confident that both were behaving themselves somewhat.
Elsewhere, Courser's clone moved between the two prisoners, coming back to Mime to lean by the wall near her. He whispered again in the gaps where he wasn't talking to Kismet and Jury, only letting his concentration and focus shift for brief moments; the debate itself was something he needed most of his attention for.
"Hey, Sunshine... Tell me... Did you know the Blessing was tainted when you took it? Did anyone take the time to tell you that it was an eventual road to madness without a cure, before giving you your powers?" As before, the clone's whisper was low and sombre. He didn't go back to Shok this time, but waited around to see how Mime responded, then whispered again. "Mafia wants to put both of you out of the picture. Blessers want to take you both back and put you to a trial of their own. If I said that the only way you walking out of here alive might be to have your Blessing stripped permanently, and lose the powers it gives, would you take it?" He tilted his head and watched. The story that he'd heard so far didn't sound like she'd known the dangers of taking the Blessing, but he wanted to see Mime's own reactions for himself.
"Let's keep our discussions constructive please. Moving on. Jury." He turned his eyes towards her, signalling with an open palm.
"You say you cannot accept the Mafia's assessment of the crimes, even though the murders in question were committed purely in the midst of their own. You say this is because the Mafia are a self-serving organisation. Please consider then: the Mafia is an organisation that serves the interests and safety of its members. It is self-serving, yes, but it is self-serving in the same way that the vast majority of organisations are self-serving. The Blessers are not exempt from this blanket either, though you are the one casting it today." He held her eyes as he spoke, ready to pause and raise a hand to forestall her if she tried to cut in or object before he was finished.
"You imply that you would only accept the verdict of the murders if they had been examined by a Blessers' inquiry, but you must admit that that is an unreasonable stance in this matter. If the Blessers were the only source capable of rendering reliable facts, then the world as we know it would collapse in a matter of hours, because the Blessers are not everywhere. And yet, the world continues to run, precisely because it is made up of self-serving organisations who have a vested interest in reliable facts and truths. The Blessers are not the only source of reliable information, and at some stage, you will need to allow that other sources are also veritable and reliable. This is not to claim that the Mafia necessarily are in this case, it is just to allow the truth that other sources outside the Blessers also provide reliable facts and investigations. Can you concede this point?"
Jury had to be aware of how insanely unreasonable refusing that particular concession would make her seem, and Courser was expecting no resistance from the woman on that point, though he was prepared, once again, to raise a hand and forestall anything more than a simple yes or no answer from her.
"The Mafia as an organisation, and by the descriptions of Kismet, is interested in serving the interests of, and protecting the safety of, its members, of whom Mime and Shok both previously were. In fact, it is the current contention from Kismet that, until this matter came to a head, the Mafia was unaware of Mime's status as a Blesser at all. She never volunteered the information, and it was not pried into. Consider then, Jury, the position that the Mafia were in at the time of the murders. Death of their own, at the hands of their own. The Mafia, in this instance, would have had no reason to investigate in anything other than as thorough and fair a way as they could, and no motivation to do otherwise. Self-interest, in this case, ensures that; it would look bad both internally and externally, and the matter could only be repaired by reliably finding the truth of the matter and seeking to punish those responsible. Trust within the Mafia itself would depend on it, and upon other Mafia members being confident that the matter had been truthfully resolved. It cannot possibly have been an easily or lightly made decision to excommunicate these two, and certainly not one made without a deal of evidence and support being collected to confirm the truth." Courser paused for a moment, rolling his shoulders, and flicking his eyes betweenthe two women, before returning to Jury.
"Are the Mafia fallible in this? Potentially yes. So too, however, may the Blessers be, and so to may any other source of inquiry ultimately be. Neither the Mafia, nor the Blessers are an unbiased party in this, and if one side cannot be trusted to conduct reliable investigation, based on a claim of self-interest, then neither side may be trusted to do so, for the same reason. This too, is a truth you must concede." He steepled his fingers, then sat back again and stretched.
"The most straight forward solution to this particular point of order is for both the Blessers and the Mafia to agree on an unbiased and independent third party to examine the evidence collected, determine the reliability of the witnesses and come to a conclusion. If the question of the murders themselves is still debated, then we shall have to agree upon a suitable third party together, whom you will both trust, and whom you will both agree to abide by the ruling of. Consider this in silence for a moment, each of you. I'll ask for each of your stances on this in a moment." He took time drawing a longer breath, letting silence drift for a few seconds and holding hands out to each of them for silence if they broke it at this point.
"Kismet." He spoke at last, turning his face towards her and gesturing with an open palm. "If you needed to elect neutral and unbiased third parties that you would be prepared to trust, and whose decision you, speaking for the Mafia, would agree to abide by on this matter, please provide as many names of individuals or organisations that you would accept." He gave her a chance to speak, and provided the Mafioso spoke cleanly and didn't interject with more than she was asked, thanked her quietly, before turning his attention over to Jury, gesturing with his other hand, and repeating the question for her, with a reminder that she was simply giving her own list, and not to speak against any that Kismet had named. As each woman spoke, he produced a small notebook from his pocket and took the lists quietly, being open about what he was writing to the table, then carefully closed the book over, and slid it to one side of where he was sitting.
"Kismet." He spoke with a fresh tone this time, moving on from the subjects in order to address other matters. "You have conceded that you will accept another method of proving that Mime, and indeed Shok, will not present any threat to your organisation, if one can be presented which you find acceptable and reliable. You have stated that you cannot think or see of any such short of death, or what would be effectively death, but you are open to being shown something reliable outside of those options. The removal of her powers, you've stated, would be acceptable, if it could be properly verified to your satisfaction. The Blessers are responsible for bestowing these powers, and have practices in place for removing them as well. You have seen first hand that the powers they bestow through these blessings are, in some manner, very real. You have intimated that you would not be satisfied with a promise from the Blessers to strip these powers. My question then becomes: Is it that you doubt their ability to remove them, or rather, do you doubt that they would do so, if they were in agreement that the procedure was necessary?" Still looking towards Kismet, he pause,d then raised his hand slightly, adding an additional point before indicating that she should speak.
"As you answer, please consider the position of the Blessers in this situation. They wish to preserve the lives of these two individuals, and by extension of that, they wish to be able to continue to mitigate the troubles their organisation faces, and care for those who are under their care, yet suffering, not unlike your desire to see the members of your own organisation safe from harm. They are aware of the stakes, and of your own need to see the threats of these women neutralised. They have no incentive or motive to be dishonest about the stripping of Mime's powers; only a disinclination to do so unless they agree that it must be done. So, what is it about such a promise that you cannot accept?"
In his mind, Courser felt fairly confident that it was less alack of trust, and more a desire for tangible, absolute certainty, on Kismet's behalf, but it was something they needed to work around to in parts, without trying to bite off too much of the problem at once. As before he attempted to keep the two women from snipping at each other outside of the comments he was directing them to make, but generally he was prepared to let the minor back and forths continue so long as each side remained reasonable and wasn't snide or abrasive for the sake of it. It was their negotiation after all, and a certain amount of back and forth between them to better establish their explanations and feelings was necessary. If either party went too far with any of the banter, he was ready to intercede with a sharp word and a single hand moved clearly between them, in the middle of the table, but he was still fairly confident that both were behaving themselves somewhat.
Elsewhere, Courser's clone moved between the two prisoners, coming back to Mime to lean by the wall near her. He whispered again in the gaps where he wasn't talking to Kismet and Jury, only letting his concentration and focus shift for brief moments; the debate itself was something he needed most of his attention for.
"Hey, Sunshine... Tell me... Did you know the Blessing was tainted when you took it? Did anyone take the time to tell you that it was an eventual road to madness without a cure, before giving you your powers?" As before, the clone's whisper was low and sombre. He didn't go back to Shok this time, but waited around to see how Mime responded, then whispered again. "Mafia wants to put both of you out of the picture. Blessers want to take you both back and put you to a trial of their own. If I said that the only way you walking out of here alive might be to have your Blessing stripped permanently, and lose the powers it gives, would you take it?" He tilted his head and watched. The story that he'd heard so far didn't sound like she'd known the dangers of taking the Blessing, but he wanted to see Mime's own reactions for himself.
last edited by
Jury's face betrayed some cross emotion, as she opened her mouth several times to offer an alternate view or objection, but couldn't get her word in. She didn't seem to like the question CourseMan had ended on either. . Her mouth held into a tight line, just barely opening as she shook her head and answered. "Of course I can concede that, and yet, there is a serious fallacy in your equation just now. These women were Blessers before-" she began, then shuddered with indignation as he held up one hand to forestall further argument, cutting off her words. She locked her lips tight and yielded to his authority as the moderator.
If Kismet appreciated that Jury was getting flustered by the line of questioning, she didn't show it, keeping the same glowering frown on her face. Since CourseMan had paused for a second, she offered her own take. "Agreed... Besides, both of them were exemplary Mafioso, up until Shok initiated her betrayal and subsequent coverup," she murmured, glancing sidelong with a somehow nostalgic tone to her voice. For her part, Jury nodded silently with CourseMan's further insisting that she concede, but her unhappiness was increasingly apparent. It was probably a good thing she didn't seem like the violent type, being seemingly an ordinary girl with no weapons. When CourseMan got to the proposal of a third party investigator, Kismet spoke up quickly and calmly, keeping it short and simple. "We've done that. An ex-mafioso who now works above the board, but has no love for our organization: Trace." She let him silence her, keeping her cheek in one hand and her arm leaned upon the table as he raised a hand to further question her. He asked if there were other parties she'd accept. "Bah. Bring in whoever else you want. All there is to examine now is hearsay... it's not like there's some kind of bullet casings or fingerprints at the crime scene."
Jury, still looking pretty annoyed but at least not straining to keep her words in, answered next. "Provided we would still be allowed to visit the captives during the trial period, I would concede to whatever third party investigation is suggested. Not the NetPolice, though... they've declared us all dangerous under a blanket statement, a reprehensible act, and I would have nothing to do with him," she answered, getting a little emotional.
Kismet did raise her eyebrows at that a bit, her body language making her seem amused despite her grimace, but shrugged. "I'd agree with taking the Police off the table, for more obvious reasons," she nodded. The mafioso listened to his next question, began to answer, then lowered her eyebrows sunk back into her chair, allowing him to finish. "Sure, if I can somehow see the powers taken out of them, then be my guest," she asked, seeming to hope that the problem with the statement would be apparent to both of them.
Jury interjected, again seeming cross. "Yes, those targets who have their blessings remove enter a state of physical weakness. We have recorded the previous trial of MarriageMan if you'd like evidence, or we could even demonstrate with a volunteer from inside of our organization. It is not... comfortable, but it's very quick and simple once we agree on the verdict," she insisted.
Kismet shook her head, then glared across the table. "Okay, but what about giving them back? What's to say you don't take the power out of those two, we let them go, then you give the power back?" she asked, tapping one finger up and down on the table.
Jury shifted in her seat slightly, then erred on the side of honesty, powerless to do otherwise. "It is true, we can also bestow those powers again. I would be open to allowing you occasional visits by those navis as one of the terms, so that you can confirm we've kept them weakened..." she answered.
The mafia leader's position didn't change at all; her answer came back dry and unamused. "How am I to confirm that you didn't whisk their powers away again just before their visit? Don't try to cheat me..." she grumbled. "I'm not unreasonable. How about this: you take their powers and they live here in the prison, so they stay under mafia surveillance, but we don't kill them. I'll even... offer them a re-evaluation with good behavior in five years."
"No, I can't accept that," Jury murmured, seeming frustrated again, not at any person, but if CourseMan thought about it, he'd likely understand why she was completely unwilling to accept those terms. "We need them to be allowed to visit on a regular, consistent basis."
"I'm giving you a good deal here," Kismet complained, lowering her eyebrows. "These girls are too crafty to be let out in their present state, even for a very, very short visit." It sounded like they'd hit their impasse again; Kismet had yielded a lot, but it still hadn't reached the point that Jury needed it to end at. It wouldn't really be great for CourseMan, either, if he wanted Mime and/or Shok out any earlier than potentially five years.
----------------------------------
Inside the other room, CourseMan would be disappointed to learn there was only so much he could learn from Mime's facial expressions. She seemed very curious to learn more, but it was hard to tell more than that with her head movement restricted, her eyes covered, her mouth gagged, and no way for her to even speak around the gag. It was noteworthy she didn't seem particularly nervous about the prospect of dying, but it was extremely hard to tell anything apart from that.
Still, he'd notice some sort of pattern at least; he'd seen earlier her ingenuity, and Kismet had reaffirmed it, so there was no doubt she was trying to convey some sort of message. She bit down harder on the gag with his first question, several times, her breathing quickening but no actual voice present. That continued through the second subsequent question, which was really an extension of the first. At the third and final question, she continued biting for a while, then finally relaxed her lips and ceased biting, appearing completely calm again. All he'd have to rely on here was his own interpretation of those signals, unless he wanted to release some of her restraints.
If Kismet appreciated that Jury was getting flustered by the line of questioning, she didn't show it, keeping the same glowering frown on her face. Since CourseMan had paused for a second, she offered her own take. "Agreed... Besides, both of them were exemplary Mafioso, up until Shok initiated her betrayal and subsequent coverup," she murmured, glancing sidelong with a somehow nostalgic tone to her voice. For her part, Jury nodded silently with CourseMan's further insisting that she concede, but her unhappiness was increasingly apparent. It was probably a good thing she didn't seem like the violent type, being seemingly an ordinary girl with no weapons. When CourseMan got to the proposal of a third party investigator, Kismet spoke up quickly and calmly, keeping it short and simple. "We've done that. An ex-mafioso who now works above the board, but has no love for our organization: Trace." She let him silence her, keeping her cheek in one hand and her arm leaned upon the table as he raised a hand to further question her. He asked if there were other parties she'd accept. "Bah. Bring in whoever else you want. All there is to examine now is hearsay... it's not like there's some kind of bullet casings or fingerprints at the crime scene."
Jury, still looking pretty annoyed but at least not straining to keep her words in, answered next. "Provided we would still be allowed to visit the captives during the trial period, I would concede to whatever third party investigation is suggested. Not the NetPolice, though... they've declared us all dangerous under a blanket statement, a reprehensible act, and I would have nothing to do with him," she answered, getting a little emotional.
Kismet did raise her eyebrows at that a bit, her body language making her seem amused despite her grimace, but shrugged. "I'd agree with taking the Police off the table, for more obvious reasons," she nodded. The mafioso listened to his next question, began to answer, then lowered her eyebrows sunk back into her chair, allowing him to finish. "Sure, if I can somehow see the powers taken out of them, then be my guest," she asked, seeming to hope that the problem with the statement would be apparent to both of them.
Jury interjected, again seeming cross. "Yes, those targets who have their blessings remove enter a state of physical weakness. We have recorded the previous trial of MarriageMan if you'd like evidence, or we could even demonstrate with a volunteer from inside of our organization. It is not... comfortable, but it's very quick and simple once we agree on the verdict," she insisted.
Kismet shook her head, then glared across the table. "Okay, but what about giving them back? What's to say you don't take the power out of those two, we let them go, then you give the power back?" she asked, tapping one finger up and down on the table.
Jury shifted in her seat slightly, then erred on the side of honesty, powerless to do otherwise. "It is true, we can also bestow those powers again. I would be open to allowing you occasional visits by those navis as one of the terms, so that you can confirm we've kept them weakened..." she answered.
The mafia leader's position didn't change at all; her answer came back dry and unamused. "How am I to confirm that you didn't whisk their powers away again just before their visit? Don't try to cheat me..." she grumbled. "I'm not unreasonable. How about this: you take their powers and they live here in the prison, so they stay under mafia surveillance, but we don't kill them. I'll even... offer them a re-evaluation with good behavior in five years."
"No, I can't accept that," Jury murmured, seeming frustrated again, not at any person, but if CourseMan thought about it, he'd likely understand why she was completely unwilling to accept those terms. "We need them to be allowed to visit on a regular, consistent basis."
"I'm giving you a good deal here," Kismet complained, lowering her eyebrows. "These girls are too crafty to be let out in their present state, even for a very, very short visit." It sounded like they'd hit their impasse again; Kismet had yielded a lot, but it still hadn't reached the point that Jury needed it to end at. It wouldn't really be great for CourseMan, either, if he wanted Mime and/or Shok out any earlier than potentially five years.
----------------------------------
Inside the other room, CourseMan would be disappointed to learn there was only so much he could learn from Mime's facial expressions. She seemed very curious to learn more, but it was hard to tell more than that with her head movement restricted, her eyes covered, her mouth gagged, and no way for her to even speak around the gag. It was noteworthy she didn't seem particularly nervous about the prospect of dying, but it was extremely hard to tell anything apart from that.
Still, he'd notice some sort of pattern at least; he'd seen earlier her ingenuity, and Kismet had reaffirmed it, so there was no doubt she was trying to convey some sort of message. She bit down harder on the gag with his first question, several times, her breathing quickening but no actual voice present. That continued through the second subsequent question, which was really an extension of the first. At the third and final question, she continued biting for a while, then finally relaxed her lips and ceased biting, appearing completely calm again. All he'd have to rely on here was his own interpretation of those signals, unless he wanted to release some of her restraints.
last edited by
As he carefully mediated the two women and worked to curtail any snide remarks or destructive commentary, Courser was unexpectedly hopeful at working the pair towards a resolution. Both were willing to make partial concessions away from their original demands, and they seemed to be getting at least close to a middle ground situation that they could both tolerate. He didn't much fancy having Mime locked up permanently for half a decade though. What to do...? He inclined his head in thanks to each of their answers and comments, then took the table again with a small rise of each of his hands.
"At this point, I wish to thank both of you for reaching out as you have been, and working towards a point that best suites everyone involved. More than a matter of differing ideologies, this matter is also one of preserving lives, and Shok and Mime are both fortunate to have the two of you together at this table now. Aside the troubles of their actions, we must always remember that these are the lives of two very real women that we are meditating upon, not simply facts or figures, or chips in a pile. Again, thank you both for remembering that as we move forward." He paused slightly, then nodded. "We can set aside the mater of a third party assessment relating to the crimes for now. It is enough for today that you have both agreed to permit one, and abide by its verdict, based on the facts that were previously gathered, the evidence that exists, and the testimonies offered. The conclusion that the selected neutral party arrives at can stand aside from the deal we must broker today, and it can be conducted within a time frame that suites." He then took a breath and pushed on.
"We must continue this discussion on the assumption that the crimes of these women are confirmed to be as claimed; such is the worst case scenario, and it is the situation that our efforts today seek to diffuse. If the finding is otherwise, then it will supersede, and the matter will be settled for Shok and Mime regardless, though further negotiations based on that eventuality may then be required.
"Moving forward based on that agreement, we have so far confirmed that Mime will need to stripped of her current blessing. This will need to be done in a manner that satisfies Kismet's ability to confirm. Jury has offered the various means of proof that the process is conducted properly.
"Mime was previously a member of both the Mafia and the Blessers, and both organisations have suffered both a measure of fondness, and a measure of pain concerning her. Without her Blessing, Kismet has conceded that she would not be a threat any longer, and would pose no danger, however this would make it improper to lock her up under full time dual surveillance by both organisations. Amongst other things, that would be impractical. The Blessers' philosophy would allow her to receive her blessing again, if she were deemed truly rehabilitated, but this is not considered acceptable by the Mafia, so long as the decision about her rehabilitation is left in the Blessers' own circle.
"There is also the danger that, were Mime to have her blessing restored, there is no guarantee that she would remain rehabilitated and non-threatening, not just to the Mafia, but also to others around her, wherever she was — in fact it's entirely likely that she would deteriorate again. I will make a proposal for Mime's situation in a moment, but first: Jury, you are aware of why this remains a danger; Kismet, I do not know how much of that matter you are aware of. To that end, we must put those cards on the table, and consider them an extension of trust, and the desire to see no-one else harmed unduly." He paused to take a long breath.
"With your permission, then, Jury, I will speak of this issue as a neutral party." He cast a glance to her, but regardless how she felt about Courser speaking of the danger that the Blessing presented, he was already committed to getting it out in the open between those present. Another thought occurred to him briefly and he turned to look rather more directly. "I am unaware of how well your father understands the problem, Jury, and if you would prefer he not hear us discuss this, that can be arranged, but it must be discussed between the three of us, at least."
Depending on the Blesser's reaction, Courser took the time to ensure that her needs were met; if that meant shielding BlessMan from overhearing discussion about why his blessings were effectively killing people, he was prepared to get the communication line cut off, just for this part of the mediation. Elsewise he would push on once they were all prepared.
"So then," he continued once everything was taken care of, if it needed to be. "The reason upon which the Blessers' need to have regular access to Mime and Shok is predicated, is because the Blessings that bestow their members with power have a downside. A creeping insanity comes with them, which, until recently, Shok has been helping their members manage and control.
"As I understand, her treatments prevent the madness from progressing, but she has not yet been able to cure it completely, though she still hopes to. As I understand, she has worked on BlessMan himself, but has yet to make any permanent headway towards restoring him to lasting health, or rendering the Blessings safe. As things stand, therefore, her work is a stop-gap; vital and necessary, without question, but nevertheless, no more than a plug in a badly cracked dam." He had a feeling that Kismet would want to jump all over this information, if she hadn't been aware of it already, but he held up hand to her if she tried to jump in.
"Now, regardless of what other feelings any of us may have about this situation, this does effectively mean that any punishment that puts and end to Shok's ability to treat the other Blessers will, at this point in time," he let some stressing slip into his words to impress the point on Kismet in particular, "likely be more harmful and dangerous to the Mafia, and the Blessers both, than it would be finding a solution that allowed her to continue treating them, and seeking a cure."
"Now, with that on the table, and given the statements you've both made, and the needs you have both expressed, I am going to put forward a proposal, which, if either of you cannot at least abide and accept, we can discuss and workshop further, until agreement is reached. My proposal is this:
First, on the case of Shok. Given the current state of the Blessers, and their needs, Shok cannot be terminated. Regardless of her other crimes, her work is necessary for the continued safeguarding of other lives. This is an unpleasant truth, but a truth all the same. I propose that a neutral safe house is designated at a location you both agree on. It will be a location that can be easily monitored by the Mafia, and also by the Blessers. It will be a location that members of the Blessers will be able to easily access. Shok will be housed here; it will provide comfortable living space for her, as she needs, and will also provide space for her to continue her work. She will retain her Blessing, and will continue to treat the members of the Blessers, BlessMan himself as necessary, and will continue seeking a means to cure the affliction that besets those who are Blessed.
She will not be permitted to leave this location; her right to privacy will be maintained within areas of the safe house, but otherwise she will we watched by both the Mafia and by the Blessers, in this location. If Shok leaves this location willingly, or if she is confirmed to be elsewhere of her own free will, then this agreement will be viewed as breached, and her life will be immediately forfeit. It is thus in the best interests of both the Blessers, and the Mafia, to ensure that she remains secure in this location, which may serve as both a home and a treatment clinic. Shok will retain effective membership with the Blessers if she desires, but will be obliged to continue her work with them regardless, until a cure is found. She will remain excommunicated from the Mafia, and will no longer be considered a member of their ranks. If desired, she may still receive correspondence and potentially visits from friends she may have within the Mafia, at their discretion, but she may not leave the safe house. She may also receive correspondence and visits from any other friends or family she has that are not affiliated with either organisation, under the same conditions.
If a cure for the madness that afflicts blessings is discovered, then once all of the Blessers, and BlessMan himself have been verified as cured of their madness, and no trace of it remains or risks recurrence, and it is confirmed that any future blessings will also be safe and corruption-free, and both the Blessers, and the Mafia, upon inspection, agree that this is the case, Shok's contribution to this service, and the lives that such will have undoubtedly saved, will be counted as time served for her crimes, and she will then be considered a free woman.
Second, for the case of Mime. Mime's case is much simpler, in that she does not bear the necessary link to the Blessers' predicament. For Mime, I would suggest that her blessing be stripped, and that this is confirmed as done to the satisfaction of Kismet. Jury has provided the means by which this can be verified, and such will be done. At that point, I would suggest that Mime no longer be considered a member of the Blessers, though she may still be permitted to have contact with friends she may have within the organisation, and she may, if she wishes it, undergo whatever rehabilitation the Blessers would normally seek to enact, and have whatever lingering ill-effects her Blessing left treated. Mime may, if she desires, seek to rejoin the Mafia; this decision would be then the Mafia's as to whether she be allowed or not, and they may test her as they would any other recruit, reinstate her position, or refuse her entirely, at their own discretion.
She may, if she chooses, seek to reconcile with the Blessers as well, however, she may not receive a Blessing under any circumstance with the sole exception of this being consented to by both the Blesser's Court, and also by either Kismet herself, or another of sufficient rank to speak for the interests of the Mafia. Both sides would retain veto power in this decision.
If at any point Mime is determined to have had her Blessing restored, or another one granted, without the express and dual agreement of both the Blessers and the Mafia, then her life is to be considered immediately forfeit, and so it will be in the best interest those who wish her life spared to ensure that this agreement is not breached.
Beyond this, no further actions would be taken against Mime. Her past record would not be expunged or forgotten, however, given the circumstance and nature of these crimes, the fact that they were spurred by an act of outside defamation, the fact that both families she was previously a part of have been torn away from her as a result, and the agreement that she be rendered no longer a threat to either organisation, I would suggest that this is enough, and that meeting these requirements she be otherwise free to rebuild her life as she sees fit. If, at any point in the future, she is found to be implicit or complicit in any matters relating to this event and these crimes, having further pursued them of her own accord, then she will know to expect no chance of further leniency or mercy." Courser took a small sip from his drink and ran a hand through his hair.
"This is the middle ground to which the discussion has been pushed. I expect that neither of you are completely satisfied with it, but this was understood at the undertaking. Now. I wish to give each of you a fair chance to raise details that you feel need further discussing or fine tuning, and to agree to whatever amendments need to be made, however, I urge you both strongly to accept this compromise overall which addresses the most base non-negotiable requirements of both of your needs, even if it is not optimal for anyone." He turned his hand outward towards Jury, inviting her assessment of the compromise and any specific details she felt needed amended.
"One at a time, if you would, please. Jury. Your views?" As long as the pair remained civil, and hammered out any minor contentions in a civil fashion, he might not need to intervene further, but he listened carefully, and was prepared to turn the floor more directly over to Kismet once Jury had spoken, if need be; he was prepared to let them back and forth a little at this stage, as long as it was getting somewhere, but he wasn't going to let them bicker.
--
On the other side of the wall, Courser's decoy had remained mostly stationary, lifeless and fairly static, the focus of his work taking all of the navi's concentration, but as the real Courser finished proposing his deal, he was able to spare a new line of multi-threaded thoughts for his clone again. It shook its head once, blinking, then stepping in front of Mime properly and raised his hands to touch lightly to the closed sides of each of her fists with the fingertips of his own hands.
"Sorry for the wait, Sunshine. Heavy deals going on out there. Just got two questions for you, now, though I think one might be more important than the other. Squeeze your left fist for yes, and your right for no, got it? Guess that makes three questions..." He waited briefly for the sign that she understood, his hands lightly on hers.
"Ok, first. I think I've got outright termination off the table now... and if I pull the rest of this off, then you might even have a proper chance to get your things back in order and start rebuilding your life somewhat... but it might be on the caveat that you've got to let the rest of this mess go, and not chase it any further. Do you think you can do that?" He waited for her response, eyes closed for a moment, then cracked a somewhat rueful smirk, even though he knew she couldn't see it.
"Well... you wondered before if I was crazy, and maybe I am, just a bit. I don't know for sure... anyway, the more important question:" He leaned in briefly, close enough that she might be able to sense the closeness of his form to her body, though he didn't move close enough to actually brush against her. He tilted his head though, so he could address his murmur to an ear. "If you walk free, then, are you still interested in that date, some time on the other side?" He stood back, though kept his hands on hers to listen to her answer. "Don't worry; it would only be macabre and creepy if I wasn't confident that you'll get through this ok. I am. What do you say?" A part of Courser was expecting her to, somehow, find a way to give a confusing or unclear answer; in a way he was almost excited by the prospect that she might. There was something fascinating about it; knowing that there was a very clever and intelligent mind, who made a game of sharing what was in it, just because she could. He wondered what thoughts were going around in her head right now, and the shame that it was that he couldn't risk doing anything to let her play games, beyond simple positives and negatives.
"At this point, I wish to thank both of you for reaching out as you have been, and working towards a point that best suites everyone involved. More than a matter of differing ideologies, this matter is also one of preserving lives, and Shok and Mime are both fortunate to have the two of you together at this table now. Aside the troubles of their actions, we must always remember that these are the lives of two very real women that we are meditating upon, not simply facts or figures, or chips in a pile. Again, thank you both for remembering that as we move forward." He paused slightly, then nodded. "We can set aside the mater of a third party assessment relating to the crimes for now. It is enough for today that you have both agreed to permit one, and abide by its verdict, based on the facts that were previously gathered, the evidence that exists, and the testimonies offered. The conclusion that the selected neutral party arrives at can stand aside from the deal we must broker today, and it can be conducted within a time frame that suites." He then took a breath and pushed on.
"We must continue this discussion on the assumption that the crimes of these women are confirmed to be as claimed; such is the worst case scenario, and it is the situation that our efforts today seek to diffuse. If the finding is otherwise, then it will supersede, and the matter will be settled for Shok and Mime regardless, though further negotiations based on that eventuality may then be required.
"Moving forward based on that agreement, we have so far confirmed that Mime will need to stripped of her current blessing. This will need to be done in a manner that satisfies Kismet's ability to confirm. Jury has offered the various means of proof that the process is conducted properly.
"Mime was previously a member of both the Mafia and the Blessers, and both organisations have suffered both a measure of fondness, and a measure of pain concerning her. Without her Blessing, Kismet has conceded that she would not be a threat any longer, and would pose no danger, however this would make it improper to lock her up under full time dual surveillance by both organisations. Amongst other things, that would be impractical. The Blessers' philosophy would allow her to receive her blessing again, if she were deemed truly rehabilitated, but this is not considered acceptable by the Mafia, so long as the decision about her rehabilitation is left in the Blessers' own circle.
"There is also the danger that, were Mime to have her blessing restored, there is no guarantee that she would remain rehabilitated and non-threatening, not just to the Mafia, but also to others around her, wherever she was — in fact it's entirely likely that she would deteriorate again. I will make a proposal for Mime's situation in a moment, but first: Jury, you are aware of why this remains a danger; Kismet, I do not know how much of that matter you are aware of. To that end, we must put those cards on the table, and consider them an extension of trust, and the desire to see no-one else harmed unduly." He paused to take a long breath.
"With your permission, then, Jury, I will speak of this issue as a neutral party." He cast a glance to her, but regardless how she felt about Courser speaking of the danger that the Blessing presented, he was already committed to getting it out in the open between those present. Another thought occurred to him briefly and he turned to look rather more directly. "I am unaware of how well your father understands the problem, Jury, and if you would prefer he not hear us discuss this, that can be arranged, but it must be discussed between the three of us, at least."
Depending on the Blesser's reaction, Courser took the time to ensure that her needs were met; if that meant shielding BlessMan from overhearing discussion about why his blessings were effectively killing people, he was prepared to get the communication line cut off, just for this part of the mediation. Elsewise he would push on once they were all prepared.
"So then," he continued once everything was taken care of, if it needed to be. "The reason upon which the Blessers' need to have regular access to Mime and Shok is predicated, is because the Blessings that bestow their members with power have a downside. A creeping insanity comes with them, which, until recently, Shok has been helping their members manage and control.
"As I understand, her treatments prevent the madness from progressing, but she has not yet been able to cure it completely, though she still hopes to. As I understand, she has worked on BlessMan himself, but has yet to make any permanent headway towards restoring him to lasting health, or rendering the Blessings safe. As things stand, therefore, her work is a stop-gap; vital and necessary, without question, but nevertheless, no more than a plug in a badly cracked dam." He had a feeling that Kismet would want to jump all over this information, if she hadn't been aware of it already, but he held up hand to her if she tried to jump in.
"Now, regardless of what other feelings any of us may have about this situation, this does effectively mean that any punishment that puts and end to Shok's ability to treat the other Blessers will, at this point in time," he let some stressing slip into his words to impress the point on Kismet in particular, "likely be more harmful and dangerous to the Mafia, and the Blessers both, than it would be finding a solution that allowed her to continue treating them, and seeking a cure."
"Now, with that on the table, and given the statements you've both made, and the needs you have both expressed, I am going to put forward a proposal, which, if either of you cannot at least abide and accept, we can discuss and workshop further, until agreement is reached. My proposal is this:
First, on the case of Shok. Given the current state of the Blessers, and their needs, Shok cannot be terminated. Regardless of her other crimes, her work is necessary for the continued safeguarding of other lives. This is an unpleasant truth, but a truth all the same. I propose that a neutral safe house is designated at a location you both agree on. It will be a location that can be easily monitored by the Mafia, and also by the Blessers. It will be a location that members of the Blessers will be able to easily access. Shok will be housed here; it will provide comfortable living space for her, as she needs, and will also provide space for her to continue her work. She will retain her Blessing, and will continue to treat the members of the Blessers, BlessMan himself as necessary, and will continue seeking a means to cure the affliction that besets those who are Blessed.
She will not be permitted to leave this location; her right to privacy will be maintained within areas of the safe house, but otherwise she will we watched by both the Mafia and by the Blessers, in this location. If Shok leaves this location willingly, or if she is confirmed to be elsewhere of her own free will, then this agreement will be viewed as breached, and her life will be immediately forfeit. It is thus in the best interests of both the Blessers, and the Mafia, to ensure that she remains secure in this location, which may serve as both a home and a treatment clinic. Shok will retain effective membership with the Blessers if she desires, but will be obliged to continue her work with them regardless, until a cure is found. She will remain excommunicated from the Mafia, and will no longer be considered a member of their ranks. If desired, she may still receive correspondence and potentially visits from friends she may have within the Mafia, at their discretion, but she may not leave the safe house. She may also receive correspondence and visits from any other friends or family she has that are not affiliated with either organisation, under the same conditions.
If a cure for the madness that afflicts blessings is discovered, then once all of the Blessers, and BlessMan himself have been verified as cured of their madness, and no trace of it remains or risks recurrence, and it is confirmed that any future blessings will also be safe and corruption-free, and both the Blessers, and the Mafia, upon inspection, agree that this is the case, Shok's contribution to this service, and the lives that such will have undoubtedly saved, will be counted as time served for her crimes, and she will then be considered a free woman.
Second, for the case of Mime. Mime's case is much simpler, in that she does not bear the necessary link to the Blessers' predicament. For Mime, I would suggest that her blessing be stripped, and that this is confirmed as done to the satisfaction of Kismet. Jury has provided the means by which this can be verified, and such will be done. At that point, I would suggest that Mime no longer be considered a member of the Blessers, though she may still be permitted to have contact with friends she may have within the organisation, and she may, if she wishes it, undergo whatever rehabilitation the Blessers would normally seek to enact, and have whatever lingering ill-effects her Blessing left treated. Mime may, if she desires, seek to rejoin the Mafia; this decision would be then the Mafia's as to whether she be allowed or not, and they may test her as they would any other recruit, reinstate her position, or refuse her entirely, at their own discretion.
She may, if she chooses, seek to reconcile with the Blessers as well, however, she may not receive a Blessing under any circumstance with the sole exception of this being consented to by both the Blesser's Court, and also by either Kismet herself, or another of sufficient rank to speak for the interests of the Mafia. Both sides would retain veto power in this decision.
If at any point Mime is determined to have had her Blessing restored, or another one granted, without the express and dual agreement of both the Blessers and the Mafia, then her life is to be considered immediately forfeit, and so it will be in the best interest those who wish her life spared to ensure that this agreement is not breached.
Beyond this, no further actions would be taken against Mime. Her past record would not be expunged or forgotten, however, given the circumstance and nature of these crimes, the fact that they were spurred by an act of outside defamation, the fact that both families she was previously a part of have been torn away from her as a result, and the agreement that she be rendered no longer a threat to either organisation, I would suggest that this is enough, and that meeting these requirements she be otherwise free to rebuild her life as she sees fit. If, at any point in the future, she is found to be implicit or complicit in any matters relating to this event and these crimes, having further pursued them of her own accord, then she will know to expect no chance of further leniency or mercy." Courser took a small sip from his drink and ran a hand through his hair.
"This is the middle ground to which the discussion has been pushed. I expect that neither of you are completely satisfied with it, but this was understood at the undertaking. Now. I wish to give each of you a fair chance to raise details that you feel need further discussing or fine tuning, and to agree to whatever amendments need to be made, however, I urge you both strongly to accept this compromise overall which addresses the most base non-negotiable requirements of both of your needs, even if it is not optimal for anyone." He turned his hand outward towards Jury, inviting her assessment of the compromise and any specific details she felt needed amended.
"One at a time, if you would, please. Jury. Your views?" As long as the pair remained civil, and hammered out any minor contentions in a civil fashion, he might not need to intervene further, but he listened carefully, and was prepared to turn the floor more directly over to Kismet once Jury had spoken, if need be; he was prepared to let them back and forth a little at this stage, as long as it was getting somewhere, but he wasn't going to let them bicker.
--
On the other side of the wall, Courser's decoy had remained mostly stationary, lifeless and fairly static, the focus of his work taking all of the navi's concentration, but as the real Courser finished proposing his deal, he was able to spare a new line of multi-threaded thoughts for his clone again. It shook its head once, blinking, then stepping in front of Mime properly and raised his hands to touch lightly to the closed sides of each of her fists with the fingertips of his own hands.
"Sorry for the wait, Sunshine. Heavy deals going on out there. Just got two questions for you, now, though I think one might be more important than the other. Squeeze your left fist for yes, and your right for no, got it? Guess that makes three questions..." He waited briefly for the sign that she understood, his hands lightly on hers.
"Ok, first. I think I've got outright termination off the table now... and if I pull the rest of this off, then you might even have a proper chance to get your things back in order and start rebuilding your life somewhat... but it might be on the caveat that you've got to let the rest of this mess go, and not chase it any further. Do you think you can do that?" He waited for her response, eyes closed for a moment, then cracked a somewhat rueful smirk, even though he knew she couldn't see it.
"Well... you wondered before if I was crazy, and maybe I am, just a bit. I don't know for sure... anyway, the more important question:" He leaned in briefly, close enough that she might be able to sense the closeness of his form to her body, though he didn't move close enough to actually brush against her. He tilted his head though, so he could address his murmur to an ear. "If you walk free, then, are you still interested in that date, some time on the other side?" He stood back, though kept his hands on hers to listen to her answer. "Don't worry; it would only be macabre and creepy if I wasn't confident that you'll get through this ok. I am. What do you say?" A part of Courser was expecting her to, somehow, find a way to give a confusing or unclear answer; in a way he was almost excited by the prospect that she might. There was something fascinating about it; knowing that there was a very clever and intelligent mind, who made a game of sharing what was in it, just because she could. He wondered what thoughts were going around in her head right now, and the shame that it was that he couldn't risk doing anything to let her play games, beyond simple positives and negatives.