IC Inbox

[retested]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, AMANDA. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 102.92.004.06 *** gameover has joined 102.92.004.06 <gameover> This is Amanda. <gameover> If you need to contact me, do so here. <gameover> DO NOT waste my time with stupid shit.

Comments

[marcato]

[His jaw tenses at the sarcasm, and for a moment, he pictures using the gun on Amanda. But the anger disappears as quickly as it arrived.]

Yes.

[He sounds as calm and pleasant as ever.]

If you wish to borrow it, I'll lend you the ammunition. Of course. It's majestic in your hands.

[retested]

[Not even Amanda's mood swings are quite so rapidly changing as his; she's just much worse at hiding hers, leaving Aunamee looking entirely calm and collected in comparison. If she could get a peek inside his head even she would feel slightly unsettled, and she's the queen of sudden lapses into rage.]

I'll hold you to that. [With a little grin. But...she gestures with the gun at empty air.] What or whom should I test this on?

[marcato]

I was hoping we could find a test subject together.

[Casual, like they're discussing dining options. He doesn't seem to notice his missing pinky. No fidgeting. No pawing at the empty space. For a man who likes feeling whole, it's been quite the adjustment. ]

You'd pull the trigger, of course. Or force them to pull it, if you'd prefer.

[retested]

[She scoffs at that last idea.]

Like I'd give one of those worthless fucks the pleasure of firing this thing.

[No fucking way. This is HER moment.]

Wanna see what I did to Fiddleford in that simulation town? I'm sure you'd appreciate it.

[She still doesn't know that Aunamee helped create that event, that he's already seen everything she did within it.]

[marcato]

Oh yes.

[He did see it -- in fact, he felt it in his mind. But much like a good book, some things are worth revisiting.

He produces his Dyster key and inserts it into the door behind him.]

How many bullets do you need to recreate the tableau?

[retested]

[It doesn't take long to tally the count in her head.]

Four, unless you'd rather I save you some fingers by skipping to the grand finale.

[marcato]

[He breathes a laugh]

No. I want to see the whole thing.

[He opens the door, revealing an alleyway in Bavan. He gestures for Amanda to go first, smooth and practiced like a courtier.]

Besides, I've saved six of the bones in my ear for this very occasion.

[retested]

[She passes him into the alley with a genuinely amused grin. His little affectations can be fun to witness.]

That's not gonna fuck up your hearing?

[marcato]

No more than not having a tongue ruins my speech.

[He removes the key from the door before sliding it back into his secret pocket. The door to his Dyster mansion closes behind him.]

I'm nothing but bones, Amanda. [It's not obvious, given the way he pads his clothes, how he hides himself in masks and white fabric.] With Her help, I defy biology.

[retested]

Just making sure. It pays to know beforehand.

[It's the principle around which she's rearranged her entire way of being: learn to anticipate everything and you leave nothing to chance.

Coming out on the street at the mouth of the alley, she begins to people-watch.]

Pick one. Your gun, your choice.