"So. As you may or may not be aware I am Naramsin Ashatnaya and I am a ghoul. I also have certain useful contacts, one of which I've already spoken to about getting us close to the Bonesmith. To manage that, we need credibility, and to get credibility I need--" he raises his right hand into the air, and begins pointing at each of the ghouls in turn "--you, you, you, and her," he finishes, nodding once at Martine, "to play bodyguard for that contact at a certain location, at a certain time while they do some business with certain illicit materials. Note that will be the first step of a process--Bonesmith is paranoid and fond of proxies, and so more work will likely be required before we can get them to let down their guard enough for us to get close and get rid of him."
He crosses one leg over the other and leans backward slightly.
"Questions?"
Calypso said nothing, as she stood behind Rachel's seat and desk, observing the situation silently.
It was curious, how this particular Ghoul was able to so easily speak up and start the conversation. Calypso would have thought that it would have been one of the DoGS speaking first. But then, perhaps it didn't matter. All that would accomplish would be for the humans to remind the Ghouls that they had enough power over them to even control the conversations, which they didn't need to do. The explosive collars were sufficient, in that regard. All the Ghouls here should know to remain in control.
"Ghouls for ghouls for ghouls, of course," I say with a smile, "You are not a ghoul. You do not have what it takes to be a ghoul. And as such, you cannot stand in front of another ghoul - a killer, a murderer, a sinner - and expect him to let you guard him."
Ordinary - adjective - something that is not special and has no distinctive features. Normal.
Ghouls are not ordinary. ****** are. That is why one of these can be guards, and the other cannot, amongst ghouls.
"You are dogs, and as such, you have training, you have skill, you have things out of the ordinary that allows you stand side by side with a ghoul and say 'ah, we are equals in the end, are we not?' You would reveal us, rip our cover asunder and shout 'on the ground, now!' like the world is a movie, yes? It is not like that, where we will go, where our feet step on the ground in time with ghouls. The collars can be played off as a fashion statement, as if we are a gang working together. But the scent of ghoulkind is still on us, and we are ghouls. And, as such, we are implicitly to be trusted by other ghouls."
I laugh again, a cheery, bright sound - for the time is zero. It has been zero seconds since I have seen the sun, it has been zero seconds since I have been forced underground, it has been zero, zero, zero, and I am happy.
"And so, we will go to the slaughter, aid the powerful, and wait like scavengers for the moment to spring, and when it does, we tear and rip and carve our names into the hearts of our enemies, and no longer will such a ploy work. After all, at that point we are no longer ghouls. We are dogs."
Calypso looked at the laughing, babbling Ghoul for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. That...
...Well, she'd heard stories abut insane Ghouls, but seeing one and interacting with one was another matter entirely. Especially since most insane Ghouls would be wildly attacking everything around them. As unstable as this Ghoul was, she was apparently able to hold it together enough to just be talking crazy.
At least it confirmed one thing. There was no trust involved in this arrangement. A Ghoul and a human were in positions where they were naturally unable to trust one another, but to trust one like this who laughs as they talk about slaughter and carving enemies? That's beyond merely an issue of distrust.
The Ghouls here were all hounds who had been leashed to become as dogs. The difference was that the Ghoul speaking was a hound visibly excited for the command to bite and bloody. When one trained a dog, this wasn't a good sign. It was a sign of a dog that still longed for it, which hasn't been fully broken in.
A dog that would never be trusted, and always be treated with care. Watched, too. Any hope of escape was erased for someone like her.
...Was that it? Did she not have hope of escape, and act in such a manner because its the closest to freedom she will ever get? That was a terrifying thought.
"If our ghoul partners are going to going on this kind of mission then we'll need to supply them with masks. And on masks, it'd be best if we do get fitted for one ourselves. Blending in with Ghoul Culture is part of the reason why we're even here right now." She said.
Masks. A staple of Ghoul culture. Used to hide facial expressions during a hunt or kill. A vital tool for helping a Ghoul hide their identity. A mask can, at times, be all that separates the 'Normal', everyday life from the Ghoulish nightlife.
Calypso had never worn one before. Her brother had made sure there was no need for that. The night life, the hunt, none of that was for her. She had merely lived a normal, peaceful life.
Even in the situation she was in, the idea of wearing a mask seemed like an admission of defeat. A testimony to her brother's failure. It would be the nail in the coffin, declaring that she needed to hide to protect the dream of peaceful days.
It was stupid. She already knew that her hopes had been dashed. If she tried to esca-
When she escaped, got away, whatever, even if the DoGS did not give chase, she'd need to find a mask anyway, so she could hunt for herself.
It still felt wrong.
"Get it done, boss," Marty snarled. "Or this whole operation goes down the shitter and you can kiss goodbye to taking Bonersmith down. They'll give us however much Ashatnaya says we need to front or you can go explain to his boss's boss's boss just how and why we fucked up our one best chance of nailing this shitheel."
...Well, if there was one good thing about the situation, it was that the humans were abrasive as well. To each other, too. That was potentially good. If Calypso kept being quiet and obedient and followed orders while the other humans acted like that, than Rachel would be too distracted with the humans to pay too much attention to Calypso. Not only would that make an escape attempt easier, but it would also mean, in general, less human attention and interaction.
Good. These interactions were hard enough to keep calm during. Thinking about how this wasn't what her brother would have wanted her to do, how she was supposed to live a normal life to the best of her abilities, keeping calm and not showing her sorrow or hate, having to hold back and play the obedient Ghoul...
...Well, keeping interactions to a minimum was easier, for her. She wouldn't have to bottle up as much when nobody was around.
