[]
Call In a Sick Day. Same complaint as the above, really. But you'll just walk away. Calmly. Slowly. And if they ask, just tell them that your charge ain't feeling so great. Look at how pale she is. Yep.
[Three Negotiation Checks. Hard Difficulty. Requires 1 Pass. Non-Confrontational. I.e. Failure won't degrade into a fuckfest.]
Then and there, a dozen thoughts cross your mind. You take a step forward, and time slows, your foot hanging inches away from the ground – there's no good reason for you to get into this shit. Suppose you could argue that the school
might be a danger to Tori – after all, ain't it just a week ago that a girl got kidnapped off a school? You ain't got to clue if it's the same school, but –
come the fuck off, that ain't why you're about to do what you gonna do. What is it then? Oh, you got a couple – more, really, but what's worth risking over this fucking shitty ass-blasted
bullshit?
You ain't got a clue.
Time resumes, and your hands falls over Tori's head. She squawks, jumping, her spine stiffing up straight. You meet her clueless-and-wide-as-shit eyes, nodding your head to the side. "We goin'."
There, in her dimming blue eyes, you catch light. "… Where?" she says, barely audible; her tone rising.
There are eyes on ya, you note quietly. People notice the smallest shits, sometimes, and Fixers are wired to notice the smallest shits, the slightest hint of
wrong – this particular street is filled with 'em: the escorts, and bodyguards like you leading their own charge, the Zweis at the corners, and walls of the streets, there to keep shit in the neighborhood quiet, and the Securities of the school; the line of
Gatekeepers standing there, eyes polished on you. From the outward, everything still moves at an orderly fashion. Escorts walk their charges. Security checks their student IDs, and let them in. The Zweis on the stand-by.
"Somewhere else," you growl, turning Tori around by sheer will of twisting her head. "C'mon."
"Hold up," someone calls out – and you curse. Fuckdamnit. One of the Security breaks formation, stepping from the line. Dark eyes under his cap, and fringes of brown hair peeking underneath, to go along with the frown. He couldn't be that much older than you. Two, maybe – five years, at best. More Mao-wise than you-wise in terms of age-wise. Ain't much taller than you though. As he approaches, he adjusts his cap, tilting it slightly with gloved hands. Tori shrinks into herself, hunching. "You're not leaving with her,
are you?"
You could probably take him.
Probably. But a whole dozen of hims, coupled with the Zweis, and all the other Bodyguard Fixers here? No shot – but also kinda beyond your mission here. You're gonna let go Tori before it comes to that.
Still. You glance down to the kid. Pale as silver. Shaking in her boots.
"Yep," you simply nod, pulling Tori to your side. She squirms. "Gonna be taking her home."
The Fixer tilts his head. His hand keeps at the brim of his cap, while the other settles at his belt, inches away from his baton-stick. You mirror his stance. Or is it the other way around? "And why would you do that? Kid's here isn't she…" he trails off for a bit, aiming his look at Tori. She lowers her head. "Can I see your ID, kid?"
Tori glances at you, and you nod. Watching nervously, Tori takes out a laminated plastic card from her wallet. The Security-man takes it with a stiff nod, scanning it. You couldn't catch the words, and letters on it – they're too small, and too blurry, and the man took it before you could focus on them, but you did manage to catch a picture of your charge. Dim blue eyes staring blankly at the camera, her flame-hued hair set in a perfect symmetry, and her back perfectly straight.
[Empathy Check: Easy. Pass.]
You're reminded of Kai, the first time you saw her – no, you recall the mannequins Karrion keeps in her boutique.
You shift your weight to your other foot. "So, security's pretty tight huh," you note idly, eyeing your surroundings. The flow now continues – there are eyes on you still, but they ain't pausing to look, and stare. It's a busy road. Students arrive from either ends of the road, dressed in fancy uniform, and escorted by people like you. These are the richest, and wealthiest of the Backstreets – nothing compared to the poorest, and most impoverished of the Nest (probably) – and every corner of this neighborhood is under the Shield of the Zwei Association. In this stretch of road alone, you can see six of them, almost twice the usual amount, and they're the only ones you could immediately see.
You catch one of them in the eyes, their flinty ambers locking on yours –
[Instinct Check: Medium. Pass.]
Your Shield, the Zwei Association's slogan goes. Unwritten between the two words is: bought
. Regardless, it's a promise. A Dogma. A Code. An Oath. Not just to their employers, but paradoxically, to the people, to themselves, to the City. Justice, they see to it. You might work in the same business, but there's no understanding them. One does not simply join an Association on a whim – one never goes far that way –
and doubly with the Zwei. During the Pianist Incident, they were the first responders, and thousands of Zwei Fixers died willingly, and knowingly charging to their death.
–and with a shiver, you look back to the Security-man.
"Of course," Security-man replies, as if stating the obvious. "… Checks out," he nods, handing the card back. "You should get in, Miss Tori – school is about to start."
"Yes, sir –" Tori twitches, taking a halting move to the gate. "Wha – !" she snaps, squawking, eyes wide. Well. On the account of her being a weak little noodle, and you being what you are, she barely moves an inch. Her eyes swivel wildly. "Uh."
Security-man turns his gaze full on you.
Here's your first, and final chance.
[Negotiation Check: Hard. Bo3. Pass.]
What would Mao do? Be honest (as you can be), straightforward, and upfront. Sincerity goes for a long way – there's no side here because you're on
their side. You couldn't fake being sincere, and you ain't slick, or slimy enough to act their friends, but you could do the first three well enough.
"Like I said," you drawl out, scowling – and you could feel it, that drum-beat of a fight about to break out. You're gonna be in the middle of it if it does. "I'm taking her back home – look at her face, dude. Pale as fuck. She doesn't feel well."
Security-man follows your gesture, looking at Tori. She shivers, fidgeting. He frowns. "If she's feeling unwell, she could rest in the infirmary – I'm sure the nurse will take care of her to health, so she can continue her studies."
Well shit. Not like you didn't think this was gonna be easy. "And if she don't get well?" you take a shot in the dark. "It's just gonna be a waste of everyone's time, and effort – better to just let her sleep it off at home. She'll get better quicker, and out of everyone's way
that way."
He stares at you, long – dark eyes hooded by the brim of his cap, glinting ever-so-slightly at a stray shine of the sun. They're jet black. You meet them squarely, calmly, and challengingly. This here's the key moment of every negotiation – the basic one-oh-one to every confrontation; the make-it-or-break-it moment. Look away, and you'll lose every credibility, and standing that you got. You've seen it happen from the sidelines, and experienced it against Landlord Lin, Mao, and pretty much anybody you'd bother talking with for longer than a minute. That includes the HamHamPangPang cashier. Depressingly, looking on your record, you have been on the losing side more than the winning side. Landlord Lin's one thing, but Mao, Kai, Sun, and even your new neighbor?
Fuck.
This time, you don't gotta add a tally on that side.
"Hrm," Security-man grunts, nodding quietly as he turns his eyes down to Tori. Your charge weakly bobs her head. She looks like she gonna throw up. She better not. That'd be a waste of breakfast. "Fine, then," he sighs,
barely. "You can leave. I will notify this to the faculty."
"Y-yes sir," Tori stammers, nodding – relief in her sagging shoulders. "T-thank you sir."
Respectful, isn't she, you muse bemusedly. "Well," you say, and your charge lets out another squawk as she leaves the ground, carried over your arms. She stares at you with dumb wide look. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. "Shut up," you say it anyway. "Let's go."
Stuttering out a "yeah", Tori nods, and just like that, you're away.
…
Your retreat from the Geld See Academy's complex is a hasty, and silent thing. Now that you got the slip, you ain't gonna take chances – sooner you get away from here, the better. Left, right, left, left – and eventually, you slow your pace down. Glancing down to your arms, you immediately roll your eyes. The farther you make it from the academy, the better her mood becomes. Some colors on her cheeks, and light in her eyes.
"Hey, where are we going?"
She has also made herself
very, very comfortable in your carry, nestling deep inside your arms once she recovered, forcing you to shift her weight around each time. With arms crossed over her chest, glaring, and pouting at you, it's like none of that some ten-or-so minutes ago ever happened. You got the sense that she could've fallen asleep right.
You're tempted to just drop her.
You don't, 'course.
[Empathy Check: Medium. Pass.]
She's comfortable because she trusts you –
[Negotiation Check: Hard. Pass.]
–not that she didn't trust you before, but back then, she only trusted you to follow the money, and that is to say, her parents. You were humoring her yesterday because it would be inconvenient for your job otherwise. She knows how this work: it's a transaction, see? It's business. Tit-for-tat. But now? There was no sense in what you just did – hell, you don't even know why
you did it – and it only makes your job difficult. She's convinced –
[Instinct Check: Easy. Pass.]
No, not convinced – what she's feeling is something far more sinister, and dark, and cruel: she's hopeful. Hopeful that you're on her side.
[Endurance Check: Easy. Pass.]
It's so very fragile –
[Melee Check: Easy. Pass.]
And so very easy to break –
[Repression Check: Very Hard. Pass.]
And you had someone like that, once. You think. You don't remember anymore. Better keep a tight lid on that.
[Ego Check: Easy. Pass.]
But either break, or make this, it's your responsibility.
"Someplace quiet," you grumble out, after a moment, looking away from her. Tori opens her mouth. "We can talk there."
Tori pouts harder. "Then back home them," she mumbles, then she suddenly perks up, grinning. "… Hey, take a turn here!" you grunt as she waves her arm around. She smiles sheepishly when you growl at her. "U-um, let's get something to eat, and rent some vids – I heard they got new shipments from the Nest! We could spend the day watching them!"
… Vids?
"What?"
"Movies!" she bobs her head excitedly, stars in her eyes. "I got a collection in my room, but I've watched them so many times, and they're super not great for my allowance – renting's much cheaper, though you gotta still be careful. Well," she pauses, pursing her lips. "Almost all of them are straight-to-tapes. Large-screen stuffs don't translate well onto tapes…" at your clueless look, she lets out a giggle. "It's crazy! It's like you're right
there in the movie, and I heard they're making this movie about a nobody Fixer going on a rampage on the Syndicates; it's gonna be so coool – but anyway!" she snaps, wriggling around in your arms –
"Hey, calm the fuck down."
Too late. She already wriggles around, lying flat in your arms on her belly facing down. With a triumphant laugh, she points straight down the road. "That-a-way!"
"I ain't payin' shit, got this? Your food, and all."
"Don't worry! As thanks," she smirks, twisting her head to face you. "I'll even pay for your own food. Now gooo!"
Right. She's loaded. "Y'know," you say, placing her back down to the ground. She lets out a confused noise, brows furrowing at you. "I liked you better when you're boutta shit an' piss yourself at my sight."
That gets a flinch out of her.
You laugh, low, throaty.
She shivers. "U-um," she mumbles. "Yeah. Uh. Let's go?"
"Just stay close," you order her, and the girl makes a disgruntled, disgusted grunt as you rest your arm above her head. This must be how Mao feels like with you. That is to say: you can get used to this. "Good thing I'm starving too."
Tori shoots you with a strange, and pitiful look, standing hesitantly close to your side. She doesn't say anything.
…
"So…" Tori starts, smiling giddily as she leans at you. "They're cool, right? I especially liked when she just
swung and turned them into red mist!"
"They all turned into red mists," you point out, somewhat bemused. Leaning back on the couch, you watch the credit scroll to an end. In the end, Tori rented three movies from the rental:
The Red Mist: Kali, The Red Mist: Asura, and The Red Mist: Nirvana. A sorta based-on-real-life story thing of the Legendary Fixer. Something called a biography? Whatever. They felt… artificial. Well,
they are, but –
[Melee Check: Easy. Pass.]
You've been in the deep of it before. This shit's too fucking clean.
[Empathy Check: Hard. Pass.]
She's not a dumb bloodthirsty monster. She would have stopped when she had to, and she would have, without hesitation, thrown herself to that firing line to save the children. You don't know how you know these things, but you just do. Call it gut feeling.
[Ego Check: Easy. Pass.]
She's the Master of her own self. She would not have lost control.
[Instinct Check: Easy. Pass.]
In the middle of every movie, the Red Mist was pushed back. That would never happen, not against these guys. It would take the Head and more to do that.
"Soo?"
You glance away from the screen, to your charge. Locking with her eyes, you tell her the truth: "They were shit."
Tori deflates, pouting. "Oh."
"The food's good though," you say, after a moment, staring at the empty wrappers of what's left of your lunch. Something called kebab – slices of meat shaved from a spinning glistening tower of heavenly goodness stuffed inside a bread, accompanied with various salad, and slathered with sweet garlic sauce. On the side, a bucketful of fries completely drowned in cheese sauce, and bacon bits. Your stomach rumbles slightly. Each movie was around two hours long – that would be six hours had gone by. Tori stares. "Good thing I bought more."
Tori grumbles. "… Can't believe you ate them all," she turns to the table. Her portion was much smaller than yours. "Even with the fries… they were meant to be shared with four, you know."
"You sure as hell ain't eating them," you turn to her, before shaking your head, glancing up at the ceiling. "You people do have it easy, huh."
Her brows furrow even deeper. "… I guess," she mumbles, shrugging as she glances down to herself. "But I think you're just built different."
Silence. It stretches. Here it is, then. You can feel it coming.
"… Why did you do it?"
"Did what?"
She glares at you, and this time, it's your turn to look away. "This morning, why did you stop me from going to school? Not that I'm not grateful or happy, but I'm not stupid, y'know? It would've been easier –
better – for you to just let me go."
You don't know
why – no, that's not right. You
do know why, but you just don't wanna put it into words – not even inside your thoughts. It would make it concrete. Makes it difficult on you. This is just a Canard job. "I dunno," you shrug, and Tori's glare doubles. This time, you meet them. "Why did you look like you were piss fucking scared?"
This time, it's her turn to look away, down to her lap. "… Don't laugh at me?"
"Sure."
"Because it's scary."
"Scary?"
Tori nods meekly. "It's – it changes you," your eyebrows rise. "The school, I mean. The lectures, and the lessons, it's – everything becomes both a blur, and crystal clear, and I become a completely different person. Everything,
anything that doesn't involve school, that doesn't even involve academia, and studying; doesn't involve numbers, and trivias, and knowledge, they're all
gone. I like watching movies, and reading comic books, but when I get into class, they're all
wiped away, and even after school's done, all I have in my head is doing my homework, and think about my exams, and how to beat my classmates' scores, and – and before I knew it, it's midnight, and I
wake up, and –" she trails off, and the girl pulls her legs up to her chest, hugging them tight, shivering; inside the dim living room, illuminated only by the silent flickering lights of the screen, you see the haunted look in her eyes. "Then I go to school the next morning, and it
repeats."
[Empathy Check: Hard. Pass.]
You know what to do.
You do, but can you? Would you? This is a two-way street. This is a Canard job. You never bargained for this shit, to get involved into this shit.
[Empathy Check: Very Hard. Pass.]
You're not some freak who gets pleasure outta this – and exactly, this
is a Canard job. If shit like this fucks you up, then maybe you should just fucking quit.
Shivering, you place a hand over her shoulders. Tori twitches, surprised – and then a chock; a wet, and watery noise. She leans into your arm, into your side, and you awkwardly pat her shoulder. "… Is that normal, that thing with the school?"
"Y-yeah," she nods, shakily. You can feel a growing wetness. "I think so. Nobody says anything. The Third Years, and some of the Second Years seemed like they manage to shake it off, but…" she lets out a breath.
"And your parents, do they know?"
"I don't know," Tori mumbles. "They got to, right? And even if they didn't… they
got to notice that I act weird, right? So they
have to know, and if not… then
what?" her voice breaks at that, quivering.
"Then they just don't care."
"Y-yeah," her voice cracks. Silence falls down the entire room, as Tori… not as much as cries as she simply buries her face into your side, and you awkwardly patting her shoulders. "… Thanks," Tori finally says, wet-sniffing as pulls her face off you. Her face looks like shit. Your jacket probably looks shittier. Well. More than it already is. You've been covered in worse. "Well," she continues, sniffling. She grins. "Guess I'll get back to it once mom and dad come back, huh."
You hum. This is the limit to what you can do, in the end. "You'll get used to it," you shrug. "Well. Either you do, or you don't – people go through this all the time."
"I know, and I know I will," Tori nods sharply, glaring at the screen. "If the Third Years could, then maybe…" she trails off, quiet. "Yeah. But I guess I got a couple days off, huh," she shivers. "Feels weird. Wrong, somehow. It ain't all bad, though."
You roll your eyes. "Yeah well, you're not the one risking getting the shit beaten out of her."
"Oh," Tori suddenly looks awkward. "Uhm. Yeah."
Letting out a deep sigh, you stare the screen – the 'main menu' of the tape. Here, clips and snippets of the "Red Mist" flash by, swinging her massive sword, and leaving behind the reason why she's called what she was called, her short red hair looking like a lion's mane. She was pronounced dead, though nobody really knows. She just vanished one day. You close your eyes. Your stomach grumbles. "I'm hungry."
"Ugh."
Tomorrow is the final full free day of your Canard Babysitting Job with Tori. The Day After would be when her parents come back. You get a full free day ahead of you. So now what?
[] Ready? Action! Tori wants to see you in action, and… and that's a fucking stupid idea. But. Well. You are getting a little too tense, and you need to vent a little. You don't even need to look for a fight – you can just walk around in the less guarded area with Tori in tow, and somebody will come, eventually – or get into the alleys, and look for Rats. Either or. [A Fixer Experience. Roll 3d100 for Random Encounters. Enemies limited to at most Low Urban Myth. Higher is Better.]
[] Kino Experience. Since there's no school tomorrow, Tori wants to go to the Cinema. From what she said, it's like watching a movie, but different. Better. It's an experience. You don't get it. H Corporation shit that only the rich can afford – only a handful of them exist in the Backstreets, and there's apparently way more inside the Nest. Not that Tori even gone there. Still, it's a bit costly, and even her loaded wallet can't afford two tickets – you gotta chip in a bit. [A Kino Experience. ???. Costs 100,000 Ahn.]
[] A Walk in The Park. What better way to spend your day other than shopping? Shopping for food, there is! Well, you can also shop for something else, but you know where the real good stuff is. Anyway, point is, it's not everytime you can just go into the rich neighborhood of the Backstreets, and here you can expand your palate (as the rich would say it). Anyway, there's a strip of shops nearby here. It's pretty safe on the account of the Zwei. Tori's willing to pay some, but you gotta chip in a little still. [A Culinary (And Rich) Experience. Costs 50,000 Ahn. Upon Unlock, Cooking Skill receives a Bonus 150XP. Window Shops.]
[] Just Chill. Or… you could just stay inside. It's boring? Well, fuck her. Just stay inside. Maybe watch more shitty movies. Maybe read books (eugh). You don't know. Tori'll find something to do. [A Cultural Experience. Get Culturized with the Rich Youth.]
