"Humina humina! Do continue, Sir! I have no intention of stopping until I've broken the bank!" Gala chuckled, licking her lips playfully as she cat-called her new favorite inmate. It was a simple enough answer that told CourseMan she wanted to continue, although he could probably glean that just by looking at her.
Mime looked back and forth, becoming confused at the sudden arrival of an additional CourseMan, who appeared to be taunting himself with his words. Without questioning it, she turned her head back to her original questioner. She very quickly placed her hands over the swell of her suit's striped breast, indicating that her odd, glassy eyes had nothing to do with Gala's, or, at least, not that she knew.
The mad look in Shok's eyes was still there, but it was still perhaps refreshing to speak to someone who didn't have empty white eyes for a bit. She turned her attention back to him and eagerly offered him access to the restraint binding her mouth, so that he could displace it and she could explain. "I need you to unbind my arms and release me. If you let me go-" she began, before the binding slapped back into place, hitting her clenched teeth. Her eyes briefly narrowed in frustration, before expanding back to their original disturbing openness. "If you let me go, I will leave, immediately, and go join the Blessers while I plan how to free my operator. I'd feel safer if Mime was dead, but she doesn't have to be," Shok finished answering. Apparently, she was the one who valued escape most highly and killing someone else the least.
CourseMan might notice that about 40-45 minutes had passed at this point. If Jailbird's estimate was correct, he'd probably used about 2/3 or 3/4 of his time by now.
Teksqp Jail House
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Courser knew he was running out of time to play with the inmates, and his mind worked to find interesting ways to make his last few questions as interesting and revealing as he could. Mime said the eyes were coincidence, though he found that hard to believe. Shok just wanted to go. Gala was... being Gala, he supposed.
The decoy in front of Gala's cell kicked its intensity up a notch, bringing his face a little closer to the bars and returning both hands to a high grip on the cage, well above his head so that the view drew eye to his open shirt and the definition of his chest and torso it made the next long, warm breath more audible, grinning as he eyes the woman through the bars. He was still leaning at an angle, so if the woman totally lost it and lunged for his belt, he'd be hard pressed to reach, herself.
"Ok... How about this. You know you've got the same eyes as little miss mute over there... why is that?" He paused long enough to let Gala give whatever answer she would, then went on. "Next... I think you've lied to me, Gala... have you? You don't need to tell me which were lies, of course, from where I stand it could get me killed, but tell me... have you been a bad girl and fibbed?" While she responded this time, CourseMan's decoy tilted its head to the side, licking its lips slowly almost as though suggesting kissing. "Last question... Maybe I'll give you a freebie... How much longer will we play before you beg me for it, hmm?"
While this strangely misplaced sauciness was going on, Courser himself was still sitting opposite Mime. She'd said there was no connection, but it would still be strange, even if that were so. He had to move on though.
"Ok... How about this. Which is more important to you? That Shok die," he put his hands to his shoulders, forming a cross as before, for that option, "Or your own freedom?" His hands went to his breast again for that one. After waiting for a sign, he continued. "Next... I don't think you're lying to me, and I know you wouldn't tell me which were lies if you had, of course... So what are you going to do and where are you going to go, if I spring you?" He couldn't really lay out any options for the woman for that one; he'd have to leave it up to Mime to make herself clear, if she could. He'd need to work it out and confirm back to her, if she answered in her own style, but he could think about it in between one more enquiry.
"Last question... Maybe you'll give me a freebie, since we've played long enough for you to know I'm not the sort to beg.... tell me, when you get out of there... I don't see you being stuck there forever... when you get out, how would you fancy a date? Dinner, drinks and a game of charades? I'll even pay for it." He tilted his head to her with a small grin, raising one eyebrow.
With one set of questions influencing the other, courser still had a third deal to broker, in Shok's darkened cell, and when his second decoy faded back into sight amidst the gloom, it was easily the most serious and least flirtatious of the three. He was going to go out on a dangerous limb and trust Gala's information, since it had been mostly reliable at least concerning the electrical woman so far.
"Ok... How about this. What do you do for the Blessers? Word is they give you special powers; what are yours, and what's the price?" He couldn't believe an organisation handed out anything that could be described as super powers, however they worked it, without there being some kind of cost involved. He helped her with the gag again as usual, but gave no reaction to her answer. "Next... how do I know you aren't lying to me. Any of your reasons, or intentions, could be lies, of course; what tells me otherwise? From where I stand, it could get me killed, if you've been a bad girl, and fibbed." A part of him had a feeling that Shok wasn't going to take being questioned on her sincerity well, but his head was already swimming trying to keep this three sets of awareness untangled.
"Last question... Maybe this one's a freebie; I'm not going to make you beg. Tell me, when you get out of here... I don't see you being stuck here forever... when you get out, what happens to me? I don't see your Mafia friends pinning that on dinner and drinks or a game of charades, over there..." He nodded towards the other two cells. "What keeps me from paying for it?" He was able to hold on long enough to hear what she had to say, but hopefully by this point, Shok was getting used to the fact that the decoy had to blink out and in again regularly.
The decoy in front of Gala's cell kicked its intensity up a notch, bringing his face a little closer to the bars and returning both hands to a high grip on the cage, well above his head so that the view drew eye to his open shirt and the definition of his chest and torso it made the next long, warm breath more audible, grinning as he eyes the woman through the bars. He was still leaning at an angle, so if the woman totally lost it and lunged for his belt, he'd be hard pressed to reach, herself.
"Ok... How about this. You know you've got the same eyes as little miss mute over there... why is that?" He paused long enough to let Gala give whatever answer she would, then went on. "Next... I think you've lied to me, Gala... have you? You don't need to tell me which were lies, of course, from where I stand it could get me killed, but tell me... have you been a bad girl and fibbed?" While she responded this time, CourseMan's decoy tilted its head to the side, licking its lips slowly almost as though suggesting kissing. "Last question... Maybe I'll give you a freebie... How much longer will we play before you beg me for it, hmm?"
While this strangely misplaced sauciness was going on, Courser himself was still sitting opposite Mime. She'd said there was no connection, but it would still be strange, even if that were so. He had to move on though.
"Ok... How about this. Which is more important to you? That Shok die," he put his hands to his shoulders, forming a cross as before, for that option, "Or your own freedom?" His hands went to his breast again for that one. After waiting for a sign, he continued. "Next... I don't think you're lying to me, and I know you wouldn't tell me which were lies if you had, of course... So what are you going to do and where are you going to go, if I spring you?" He couldn't really lay out any options for the woman for that one; he'd have to leave it up to Mime to make herself clear, if she could. He'd need to work it out and confirm back to her, if she answered in her own style, but he could think about it in between one more enquiry.
"Last question... Maybe you'll give me a freebie, since we've played long enough for you to know I'm not the sort to beg.... tell me, when you get out of there... I don't see you being stuck there forever... when you get out, how would you fancy a date? Dinner, drinks and a game of charades? I'll even pay for it." He tilted his head to her with a small grin, raising one eyebrow.
With one set of questions influencing the other, courser still had a third deal to broker, in Shok's darkened cell, and when his second decoy faded back into sight amidst the gloom, it was easily the most serious and least flirtatious of the three. He was going to go out on a dangerous limb and trust Gala's information, since it had been mostly reliable at least concerning the electrical woman so far.
"Ok... How about this. What do you do for the Blessers? Word is they give you special powers; what are yours, and what's the price?" He couldn't believe an organisation handed out anything that could be described as super powers, however they worked it, without there being some kind of cost involved. He helped her with the gag again as usual, but gave no reaction to her answer. "Next... how do I know you aren't lying to me. Any of your reasons, or intentions, could be lies, of course; what tells me otherwise? From where I stand, it could get me killed, if you've been a bad girl, and fibbed." A part of him had a feeling that Shok wasn't going to take being questioned on her sincerity well, but his head was already swimming trying to keep this three sets of awareness untangled.
"Last question... Maybe this one's a freebie; I'm not going to make you beg. Tell me, when you get out of here... I don't see you being stuck here forever... when you get out, what happens to me? I don't see your Mafia friends pinning that on dinner and drinks or a game of charades, over there..." He nodded towards the other two cells. "What keeps me from paying for it?" He was able to hold on long enough to hear what she had to say, but hopefully by this point, Shok was getting used to the fact that the decoy had to blink out and in again regularly.
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Gala moved in towards the bars himself and, if he failed to back away, would press her hands around the bars, just beneath his own (he did have a height advantage over her, so she'd be hard pressed to reach that high if she wanted to). His question caused her to laugh, raising one eyebrow while keeping her face close to his. "Hm hm hm! You're jumping at shadows there, baby. In my case, the eyes look more normal when hidden with a mask, so it's really just for shock value that my operator gave me these, I suppose. In Mime's case, maybe her operator was trying to challenge her to be a better mime? Harder to see where she's looking, makes it harder to interpret her mimicry... all that rot," she rambled, sounding like she wasn't thinking about it too hard. His next question seemed to make her more excited; she'd move closer and press her face into the bars, near his own, if she'd allow him. "I've been a very bad girl, I've been quite clear about that! As for lying... well... maybe the consoles and all of their buttons were something I had a hand in designing when this jail was made, so long ago that most people forgot I was even a part of it... but in fairness, I do think it would be fun if you pushed them in random order..."
Her face and her torso were both pressed so hard against the bars now that it looked like they were going to leave marks when she pulled away; it was almost as if she was testing if she could squeeze out (she couldn't). "Oh, I'll play as long as I can... and I'll beg whenever you want... I'll beg right now, if you want to... Come on, what's the worst that can happen inside this cell?" she asked; if he was watching, he'd notice her hands were now making a vulgar creep towards the intersecting point of her thighs. "You don't even have to let me out... You can just let yourself in..." she reassured him, speaking in a more breathy voice as her fingers reached their destination. "I've got a very nice cell... It was custom designed for me... But I think it can fit two... Mmhmhmmmm..."
Mime seemed to be unable to catch the words coming from the other cell, but was still able to understand the general tone and recognize that Gala had begun masturbating. She looked momentarily repulsed, but spoke nothing, and soon recovered her usual frown. The cross she formed with her forearms indicated that, indeed, Mime cared about the murder of the one who had supposedly framed her more than she cared about escaping the cell herself, despite the fact that she was apparently serving a life sentence. She tilted her head at his next question, then again pointed to the cells on the other side of her and made an expression frighteningly reminiscent of Shok's (an expression that would always be frightening, regardless of how familiar it was). She lifted both hands above her head and imitated pulling a rope for a bit, until one shoulder hung upward and one hung down. To solidify the point, she slid one finger slowly across her throat as her face gradually returned to a passive frown. It was now abundantly clear that, whether he killed Shok or let her out, either way, both options would share at least one obvious outcome.
The captive nodded slowly at the concept that she was most likely going to get out of the cell eventually, with or without his help. Her nodding stopped when he got to asking for a date. Her impassive frown stayed, but her white and black face was again colored by a faint blush as she began another series of gestures: pointing outward, then circling one finger at one ear... Well, actually, that appeared to be less of a charade and more just saying he was crazy. Of course, he would probably be the first to admit that this whole experience of trying to pick up chicks in a prison for deranged murderers was a bit out of the ordinary.
In the other cell, past Gala's, Shok seemed to be indifferent from the increased noise coming from Gala's. Instead, she answered the questions quickly and with an obvious sense of purpose. "My powers are essential for maintaining the powers of the other Blessers. Without me, their minds will decay and their powers will become more unstable. It would actually be correct to say that, without me, they'll implode," she added, locking her eyes to his and trying to transfer some of that sense of urgency. "My power, given to me by BlessMan, allows me to manipulate all sorts of electric impulses inside the navis. Obviously, they don't have the same nervous systems that humans do, but-" she began to explain, but the binding shirked back up once the clone flickered. Once it came back down, she seemed to have no desire to finish the explanation, and instead urged him to continue the questioning. "The price is just what you heard: mental breakdown and a slow risk of bodily harm. Only I am capable of keeping my mind fit despite my powers, due to my ability to administer my own treatment." The final question caused her eyes to lower momentarily into a glower that seemed different from her other expressions, but still quite intimidating... perhaps even more so. "Because the other two are psychos. I'm the only sane one you've spoken to, and furthermore, I'm the only one who's planning to do anything good with her freedom."
That was a good segue into the final question. "If you let me out, I won't even bother with the others. I can leave straight away. As for your protection... I have unique gifts I can offer you. I can awaken the powers inside of you using my neural manipulation, or... if, say, you have been struggling with your own sanity... I could even help you get a grip on that," she offered; her giant grin almost looked like an eerie smile as the binding slipped back into place between her teeth. Her eyes now seemed to be frozen in that disturbing, evil glare. When he slipped the restraint back out of the way, she continued. "Of course... I can only do that if you let me out of here, so I'll have the full use of my powers again."
There was still no sign of Jailbird, although they were virtually right on the point of when she said she would return. CourseMan had many appealing options now: he could wait for Jailbird to return and claim his money for nothing, leaving the oddities he'd seen here behind as a distant memory. He could either open the cell of Gala or otherwise enter it, and, barring any revulsion he felt towards her personality or scarring, he could make good on what she'd been offering for a while. He could let Mime free, give her what (may be) justified revenge, and possibly gain a new friend in the process. He could let Shok free, allowing her to rejoin the Blessers and possibly even to offer him some of her specialized therapy, giving him relief from whatever caused his own clones to taunt him. Yet another option: he could press a few buttons and ultimately rid the net of the three murderers forever. Any way he looked at it, there probably wasn't any way to release all three without inciting a battle, and there was a very good chance that any of those he let free was going to kill at least one of the others (if not CourseMan himself), unless he urged them otherwise.
Her face and her torso were both pressed so hard against the bars now that it looked like they were going to leave marks when she pulled away; it was almost as if she was testing if she could squeeze out (she couldn't). "Oh, I'll play as long as I can... and I'll beg whenever you want... I'll beg right now, if you want to... Come on, what's the worst that can happen inside this cell?" she asked; if he was watching, he'd notice her hands were now making a vulgar creep towards the intersecting point of her thighs. "You don't even have to let me out... You can just let yourself in..." she reassured him, speaking in a more breathy voice as her fingers reached their destination. "I've got a very nice cell... It was custom designed for me... But I think it can fit two... Mmhmhmmmm..."
Mime seemed to be unable to catch the words coming from the other cell, but was still able to understand the general tone and recognize that Gala had begun masturbating. She looked momentarily repulsed, but spoke nothing, and soon recovered her usual frown. The cross she formed with her forearms indicated that, indeed, Mime cared about the murder of the one who had supposedly framed her more than she cared about escaping the cell herself, despite the fact that she was apparently serving a life sentence. She tilted her head at his next question, then again pointed to the cells on the other side of her and made an expression frighteningly reminiscent of Shok's (an expression that would always be frightening, regardless of how familiar it was). She lifted both hands above her head and imitated pulling a rope for a bit, until one shoulder hung upward and one hung down. To solidify the point, she slid one finger slowly across her throat as her face gradually returned to a passive frown. It was now abundantly clear that, whether he killed Shok or let her out, either way, both options would share at least one obvious outcome.
The captive nodded slowly at the concept that she was most likely going to get out of the cell eventually, with or without his help. Her nodding stopped when he got to asking for a date. Her impassive frown stayed, but her white and black face was again colored by a faint blush as she began another series of gestures: pointing outward, then circling one finger at one ear... Well, actually, that appeared to be less of a charade and more just saying he was crazy. Of course, he would probably be the first to admit that this whole experience of trying to pick up chicks in a prison for deranged murderers was a bit out of the ordinary.
In the other cell, past Gala's, Shok seemed to be indifferent from the increased noise coming from Gala's. Instead, she answered the questions quickly and with an obvious sense of purpose. "My powers are essential for maintaining the powers of the other Blessers. Without me, their minds will decay and their powers will become more unstable. It would actually be correct to say that, without me, they'll implode," she added, locking her eyes to his and trying to transfer some of that sense of urgency. "My power, given to me by BlessMan, allows me to manipulate all sorts of electric impulses inside the navis. Obviously, they don't have the same nervous systems that humans do, but-" she began to explain, but the binding shirked back up once the clone flickered. Once it came back down, she seemed to have no desire to finish the explanation, and instead urged him to continue the questioning. "The price is just what you heard: mental breakdown and a slow risk of bodily harm. Only I am capable of keeping my mind fit despite my powers, due to my ability to administer my own treatment." The final question caused her eyes to lower momentarily into a glower that seemed different from her other expressions, but still quite intimidating... perhaps even more so. "Because the other two are psychos. I'm the only sane one you've spoken to, and furthermore, I'm the only one who's planning to do anything good with her freedom."
That was a good segue into the final question. "If you let me out, I won't even bother with the others. I can leave straight away. As for your protection... I have unique gifts I can offer you. I can awaken the powers inside of you using my neural manipulation, or... if, say, you have been struggling with your own sanity... I could even help you get a grip on that," she offered; her giant grin almost looked like an eerie smile as the binding slipped back into place between her teeth. Her eyes now seemed to be frozen in that disturbing, evil glare. When he slipped the restraint back out of the way, she continued. "Of course... I can only do that if you let me out of here, so I'll have the full use of my powers again."
There was still no sign of Jailbird, although they were virtually right on the point of when she said she would return. CourseMan had many appealing options now: he could wait for Jailbird to return and claim his money for nothing, leaving the oddities he'd seen here behind as a distant memory. He could either open the cell of Gala or otherwise enter it, and, barring any revulsion he felt towards her personality or scarring, he could make good on what she'd been offering for a while. He could let Mime free, give her what (may be) justified revenge, and possibly gain a new friend in the process. He could let Shok free, allowing her to rejoin the Blessers and possibly even to offer him some of her specialized therapy, giving him relief from whatever caused his own clones to taunt him. Yet another option: he could press a few buttons and ultimately rid the net of the three murderers forever. Any way he looked at it, there probably wasn't any way to release all three without inciting a battle, and there was a very good chance that any of those he let free was going to kill at least one of the others (if not CourseMan himself), unless he urged them otherwise.
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In an almost comic reversal, the genuine CourseMan sitting opposite Mime mimicked and shared her momentary look of revulsion as Gala began to... get ahead of herself. the decoy in front of the over-eager woman gave no outwards sign of this, simply watching on, but it was clear that Courser himself was thinking the line of tasteful flirting had been crossed.
Still grinning, the decoy stood back and stretched, then placed his hands behind his head, in front of the bars but out of reach just in case Gala got grabby again. He shook his head softly.
"I'm going to have to call our little game to a close I fear, Gala. I think that would give you ten button presses all together, would it not?" The decoy sighed softly and then raised his eyebrows towards the mad woman. "Unfortunately, you've made a small mistake while we've been playing. You've been assuming that I'm an honest man, of my word. I'm sorry to say, but I'm not. I never had any intention of pressing any buttons on your behalf. I do hope you enjoy that prison of your own making, though. Maybe we'll play another game some time in the future. Call me when you get out..." With a last smirk, the main decoy shrugged its shoulders, winked at Gala and faded away.
In the far cell, Courser brought a last clone in for Shok as well, though he didn't reach for her gag right away this time. He had thought over the way the different pieces of information fit together, or didn't, and reached at least something of a conclusion, within the limited scope of time and space he had. He kept his voice low and spoke quickly.
"I'm not saying I believe all you're saying, Shok, but I'm convinced enough. Listen though: If you're innocent like you say, then breaking you out isn't going to help you in the long run. If what you're saying is true, yes, I understand that you need to get back to your fellows as soon as you can, but you need to understand my position too. I can't simply take action like that, based on a single conversation with a prisoner. I'd like to help you, and I'm going to look into doing what I can. I can't let you out here and now, but consider me a friend on the outside. This is my contact:" The clone held up both hands, and small field of light and shadow resolved between them to show Shok his details. He rolled his eyes as he read the address in reverse and tried not to wince. At least it wouldn't be hard to remember. "Yeah, I know... My operator is a teenager. What can you do? Anyway, like I said, I'm going to do what I can. If there's anyone you know I should get in touch with that could help clear you, send their details there. You want folk to start believing you might be innocent, then keep your nose clean, ok? Model prisoner. Sorry I can't do more right now. Hang in there." All told, Shok really would need to be completely sane and rational not to take the news poorly, given the urgency she was trying to communicate, but CourseMan was just too removed form the situation and understanding it to take any kind of decisive action. He did mean what he was saying about looking into it further though. The clone faded with a small bow of his head once he'd delivered his decision to her.
And that left Mime. Having shared their mutual disgust at Gala, Courser sighed softly and nodded as she made very clear her desires and intentions, though he held his hands up defensively once she insinuated that asking her out was less than wise.
"Hey, I might not be the paragon of mental stability, but I think you're being unfair on yourself... unless you're saying you honestly don't think you deserve a nice night out with pretty lad once in a while? I not your type?" He shrugged and smiled. "I'm not exactly a saint either, and you seem like an interesting lady, so I think I'd like to meet you properly some day, minus the bars. Think about it..." He flourished his finger tips on one hand producing a small round disc comprised of swirling shadows and light. As an artefact, it was made only of barely tangible light, and there was no real way Mime could use it to her benefit, but it would endure after Courser himself left, and touching it would bring up his contact details. He placed it down on the floor just beside Mime, inside the bars. "Look me up when you get out. I'll show you a good time."
With that said Courser stood up, then wandered back towards the far side of the prison area, leaning against the wall near the control panel where he'd be able to watch all three cells with just his own, single pair of eyes. It was about time for Jailbird to get back, if she wasn't late, and he was happy to kill time until she did.
Still grinning, the decoy stood back and stretched, then placed his hands behind his head, in front of the bars but out of reach just in case Gala got grabby again. He shook his head softly.
"I'm going to have to call our little game to a close I fear, Gala. I think that would give you ten button presses all together, would it not?" The decoy sighed softly and then raised his eyebrows towards the mad woman. "Unfortunately, you've made a small mistake while we've been playing. You've been assuming that I'm an honest man, of my word. I'm sorry to say, but I'm not. I never had any intention of pressing any buttons on your behalf. I do hope you enjoy that prison of your own making, though. Maybe we'll play another game some time in the future. Call me when you get out..." With a last smirk, the main decoy shrugged its shoulders, winked at Gala and faded away.
In the far cell, Courser brought a last clone in for Shok as well, though he didn't reach for her gag right away this time. He had thought over the way the different pieces of information fit together, or didn't, and reached at least something of a conclusion, within the limited scope of time and space he had. He kept his voice low and spoke quickly.
"I'm not saying I believe all you're saying, Shok, but I'm convinced enough. Listen though: If you're innocent like you say, then breaking you out isn't going to help you in the long run. If what you're saying is true, yes, I understand that you need to get back to your fellows as soon as you can, but you need to understand my position too. I can't simply take action like that, based on a single conversation with a prisoner. I'd like to help you, and I'm going to look into doing what I can. I can't let you out here and now, but consider me a friend on the outside. This is my contact:" The clone held up both hands, and small field of light and shadow resolved between them to show Shok his details. He rolled his eyes as he read the address in reverse and tried not to wince. At least it wouldn't be hard to remember. "Yeah, I know... My operator is a teenager. What can you do? Anyway, like I said, I'm going to do what I can. If there's anyone you know I should get in touch with that could help clear you, send their details there. You want folk to start believing you might be innocent, then keep your nose clean, ok? Model prisoner. Sorry I can't do more right now. Hang in there." All told, Shok really would need to be completely sane and rational not to take the news poorly, given the urgency she was trying to communicate, but CourseMan was just too removed form the situation and understanding it to take any kind of decisive action. He did mean what he was saying about looking into it further though. The clone faded with a small bow of his head once he'd delivered his decision to her.
And that left Mime. Having shared their mutual disgust at Gala, Courser sighed softly and nodded as she made very clear her desires and intentions, though he held his hands up defensively once she insinuated that asking her out was less than wise.
"Hey, I might not be the paragon of mental stability, but I think you're being unfair on yourself... unless you're saying you honestly don't think you deserve a nice night out with pretty lad once in a while? I not your type?" He shrugged and smiled. "I'm not exactly a saint either, and you seem like an interesting lady, so I think I'd like to meet you properly some day, minus the bars. Think about it..." He flourished his finger tips on one hand producing a small round disc comprised of swirling shadows and light. As an artefact, it was made only of barely tangible light, and there was no real way Mime could use it to her benefit, but it would endure after Courser himself left, and touching it would bring up his contact details. He placed it down on the floor just beside Mime, inside the bars. "Look me up when you get out. I'll show you a good time."
With that said Courser stood up, then wandered back towards the far side of the prison area, leaning against the wall near the control panel where he'd be able to watch all three cells with just his own, single pair of eyes. It was about time for Jailbird to get back, if she wasn't late, and he was happy to kill time until she did.
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Gala continued chuckling, almost drooling, as she held one finger at the corner of her mouth and used the ones on the other hand for obscene purposes. She seemed to be in good spirits, even hearing that the game was a sham, until CourseMan vanished from her sight. At that point, she eased up on what she was doing, pressing her face against the bars and looking to catch a glimpse of the man she'd been speaking to. "Wait... Come back...! Give me just five more minutes to stare while I finish this!" she moaned. "Phooey! You'd think a woman of means like myself could get a damn stripper to stand outside her jail cell and act sexy for a measly five minutes! Ah well... nothing to do but to rely on memory and imagination to finish up, at this point." She was also the type to talk to herself, it seemed. Gala made her way back over to her bed, curled up in it much the way Shok had been earlier, but did not stay still... she was more restless than ever, for obvious reasons. "Ugh... I'm just not feeling it any more! If only I'd gotten a better look at those abs... I thought I was going to get the perfect vantage point, too..."
For her part, Shok seemed even less pleased than Gala by this turn of events. The navi's eyes widened with shock as she grit her teeth harder, unleashing a slew of muffled protests while CourseMan offered his contact information, then faded away. Gala had at least gotten some pleasurable stimulus and a game out of the experience, but Shok, for her part, seemed even more distraught then when they'd begun.
Mime didn't seem terribly reactive to the idea that she ought to go on a nice date herself some time, even if it was the nicest sentiment any of the three girls had received from him. She accepted his contact information and nodded, while leaning her head on one fist. She wasn't panicking like the other two, but she didn't look pleased by the outcome either... Then again, she hadn't stopped frowning once since they'd begun talking, so her face might be frozen that way (except for the occasions where she mimicked someone with a different face). She returned a quick nod, then seemed to stare back down at the floor for a while. Things fell to relative silence, with no one talking in a way that was intelligible: Mime remained mute, Gala only spoke in desperate sighs as she tried to top herself off, and Shok continued roaring in muffled, ineffective yells.
With roughly an hour having past, CourseMan could now surmise that his host was, in fact, going to be late. Seeming to sense that he was going to be waiting and restless, Mime gestured him over with one curling finger. If he approached, she would continue the gesture until he got as close to the cell as he was willing to come, then would hold out two hands in fists, so that the knuckles touched the bars of the cage. It looked like she was either mimicking some weak punches or asking him to "pick one."
For her part, Shok seemed even less pleased than Gala by this turn of events. The navi's eyes widened with shock as she grit her teeth harder, unleashing a slew of muffled protests while CourseMan offered his contact information, then faded away. Gala had at least gotten some pleasurable stimulus and a game out of the experience, but Shok, for her part, seemed even more distraught then when they'd begun.
Mime didn't seem terribly reactive to the idea that she ought to go on a nice date herself some time, even if it was the nicest sentiment any of the three girls had received from him. She accepted his contact information and nodded, while leaning her head on one fist. She wasn't panicking like the other two, but she didn't look pleased by the outcome either... Then again, she hadn't stopped frowning once since they'd begun talking, so her face might be frozen that way (except for the occasions where she mimicked someone with a different face). She returned a quick nod, then seemed to stare back down at the floor for a while. Things fell to relative silence, with no one talking in a way that was intelligible: Mime remained mute, Gala only spoke in desperate sighs as she tried to top herself off, and Shok continued roaring in muffled, ineffective yells.
With roughly an hour having past, CourseMan could now surmise that his host was, in fact, going to be late. Seeming to sense that he was going to be waiting and restless, Mime gestured him over with one curling finger. If he approached, she would continue the gesture until he got as close to the cell as he was willing to come, then would hold out two hands in fists, so that the knuckles touched the bars of the cage. It looked like she was either mimicking some weak punches or asking him to "pick one."
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Alas for Gala, alas for Shok. Truthfully, courser had been expecting more of a reaction from Gala at his refusal to push buttons for him, and he'd been hoping for less of one from Shok. He was genuinely quite sincere about meaning to learn a little more of the situation, and if it proved the right action, possibly help in the future, but he certainly wasn't about to make a decision of that magnitude based solely on talking to prisoners. Hopefully the restrained woman would calm down a bit in time, and understand his own position too.
Gala... well, a small part of him felt vaguely sorry of depriving her of eye candy, but it was only really a very small part. flirting was fun, but he wasn't about to stand around and be an object of masturbation just for the sake of it. Internally he shuddered slightly. Not that she wasn't a looker in her own way... minus a few hard to ignore details... but he just wasn't like that. Beside him, a decoy slipped into sight leaning against hte wall as well.
"Oh aye... and what about Jen, then, huh? You tease her mercilessly, and pretend you don't notice."
"Hah, and then pretends he's all the gentleman really, too, like you don't secretly want to get a good perv when she changes!" A second clone had joined the first in taunting him quietly. Neither raised their voices too high, but the tone was mocking. Courser closed his eyes and banished them both without responding.
When he opened his eyes and drew a deeper, calming breath, Courser noticed that a real person was trying to get his attention. He glanced towards Mime, then stepped forward. Visually, he stepped out of himself, leaving a clone leaning on the wall by the panel just as he had been. Short of being able to test in some way, though, it would be virtually impossible to tell which was clone and which wasn't, if anyone else was actually watching. They probably weren't. Gala and Shok both seemed... busy.
He approached Mime's cell again, but stopped short just out of the girl's arm-reach, offering a small grin for her in contrast to her fixed sad-mime expression. He tilted his head softly, watching her, turning his eyes down to her hands briefly, then looking back to her eyes as he indicated with his left hand, gesturing to her right. He watched her face while he did, but from where it still leaned against the wall, his decoy was keeping an eye trained on what it could see of her hands; courser himself had made sure not to obscure his own line of sight when he moved.
Gala... well, a small part of him felt vaguely sorry of depriving her of eye candy, but it was only really a very small part. flirting was fun, but he wasn't about to stand around and be an object of masturbation just for the sake of it. Internally he shuddered slightly. Not that she wasn't a looker in her own way... minus a few hard to ignore details... but he just wasn't like that. Beside him, a decoy slipped into sight leaning against hte wall as well.
"Oh aye... and what about Jen, then, huh? You tease her mercilessly, and pretend you don't notice."
"Hah, and then pretends he's all the gentleman really, too, like you don't secretly want to get a good perv when she changes!" A second clone had joined the first in taunting him quietly. Neither raised their voices too high, but the tone was mocking. Courser closed his eyes and banished them both without responding.
When he opened his eyes and drew a deeper, calming breath, Courser noticed that a real person was trying to get his attention. He glanced towards Mime, then stepped forward. Visually, he stepped out of himself, leaving a clone leaning on the wall by the panel just as he had been. Short of being able to test in some way, though, it would be virtually impossible to tell which was clone and which wasn't, if anyone else was actually watching. They probably weren't. Gala and Shok both seemed... busy.
He approached Mime's cell again, but stopped short just out of the girl's arm-reach, offering a small grin for her in contrast to her fixed sad-mime expression. He tilted his head softly, watching her, turning his eyes down to her hands briefly, then looking back to her eyes as he indicated with his left hand, gesturing to her right. He watched her face while he did, but from where it still leaned against the wall, his decoy was keeping an eye trained on what it could see of her hands; courser himself had made sure not to obscure his own line of sight when he moved.
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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.
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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?"
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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.
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"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*
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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.))
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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."
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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))
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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))
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((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.
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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."
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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.
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"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."
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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."
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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.
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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.