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PERCEPTION — The man in the sunglasses has been sitting in the Whirling-in-Rags cafeteria for the past two days, as far as you can tell. He was there when you went upstairs last night, and he is there when you emerge eight hours of restless sleep later. He won’t speak to you unless you speak first, and when he does, all he sees fit to give you is bone-weary exasperation, but you can feel him watching you from behind those glasses.
LOGIC [ Formidable: Failure ] — You just can’t figure out why. It hurts when you try to think about it. Your brain is rebelling against the thought; your pulsing headache has become background noise in the days since the first day of your new life, but every time you broach this thought the migraine strikes up the band again. It is impossible to think about, much less solve.
CONCEPTUALIZATION [ Challenging: Failure ] — It is equally impossible to think about anything else.
VOLITION [ Legendary: Success ] — The fifth morning in the Whirling, and the second morning of the man in the wig pretending not to stare at you as you walk down the stairs, you decide you need to know.
(For the good of the case, of course.)
(How are you meant to focus on the murder investigation, when somebody in a disguise is staring at you and making you give up bits of information? It doesn’t matter that it feels natural to talk to him about these things. It doesn’t matter that he never actually asked you to tell him any of it, just nodded along as you bounced theories off of him, until the screaming in your head reminded you that nothing about the situation was normal and you stopped talking. He could be manipulating you, just like Klaasje was.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [ Medium: Success ] — Just like Klaasje was? It might be time to return to that underground thought project, if you catch my drift.
LOGIC [ Easy: Failure ] — You don’t catch any drifts. You have more important fish to fry. Questions to ask. Cans to open.
YOU — You make a beeline for the man in the sunglasses the moment you reach the first floor, not even stopping to say good morning to Kim. You’re single-minded in your quest. For once, all the tangled-up scribbly lines of your brain have ironed out into one point-A-to-point-B — talk to the man, find out who he is. It might be the most important case of your life.
You don’t bother with niceties. You do not get the feeling they would be appreciated, and the thought of going through hello, good morning, how are you’s right now is unbearable.
“Were we really partners?”
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — His face screws up in a scowl. “This again? Haven’t we been over this already?”
PERCEPTION — He is still wearing the wig he’s been in for the past two days. It must be itchy by now. Maybe if he took it off, you would recognize him. Maybe that’s what’s missing.
SUGGESTION [ Easy: Success ] — Don’t ask him to. He won’t listen.
YOU — “Nope. You didn’t actually answer, when I asked before, and I need to know. For the case. It’s important to the investigation.”
ESPIRIT DE CORPS [ Challenging: Success ] — For the case. He’s heard that one before, he thinks; c’mon, man, I need this, it’s for the case. It’ll fire up my super-cop brain and we’ll have it solved in, like, two seconds flat. Just gimme five minutes here ’n don’t log the bag in evidence, and we’re golden, J—
REACTION SPEED — What was that? That last bit?
PERCEPTION [ Medium: Failure ] — Joe, maybe? This guy looks like a Joe. Or a George. Guillame, maybe, if you said it with a soft G. Sounds kind of stupid, but maybe he’s got a stupid name. Not everyone can be a Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau.
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — “Well, if it’s for the case.” He’s sarcastic enough to wound. “Clearly I’m the mystery you should be putting your energy into investigating. For the ongoing murder case.”
YOU — “You could be a suspect.”
LOGIC [ Easy: Success ] — No. That feels wrong. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — He barks out a laugh. “Me! A suspect! Now we’re talking.” He turns to the woman next to him. “Judit, are you hearing this? He thinks I did it, now.”
HORSE-FACED WOMAN — “Please. I don’t want to be involved in… This.” She looks pointedly between the two of you, and then pointedly away.
ESPIRIT DE CORPS [ Medium: Success ] — She would much rather be anywhere else, but she is fulfilling a duty, both professional and personal, by being here. This man is a colleague and a friend. She cannot abandon him here.
YOU — “You aren’t a suspect, I don’t know why I said that. But you are wearing a disguise. Isn’t that, you know, kind of… suspicious?”
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — “No.”
YOU — “Yes.”
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — He squints at you over the glasses.
YOU — “I’m just saying, maybe if you took the disguise off, I would recognize you?”
EMPATHY [ Heroic: Success ] — Something awful happens to his face for a split second. He covers it quickly, but you notice anyways, and file the expression away to examine later. You know what it means without knowing how you know. It is the face somebody makes when they know if they make a sound, it will either be the most painful laugh they have ever experienced, or a wretched sob.
It is grief, quickly swallowed back like a burning shot of vodka. But for who?
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — He recovers quickly from whatever that was. “You’re drunk.” He says it automatically, like it’s something he’s said a million times before. It’s a deflection.
YOU — “I haven’t had a drop to drink since Monday. Well, okay, I licked something off the counter, but that wasn’t enough to do anything, so it doesn’t count. And I’ve been drinking, you know, water and stuff, but only because Kim said it was bad to be dehydrated, but aside from that. No booze, is what I’m saying.”
SAVOIR FAIRE [ Medium: Success ] — You lean in for him to smell your breath as proof, but he jerks away from you, shoving you backwards with one hand. You catch yourself before falling to the ground.
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — “Fine. Whatever. You’re not drunk. You’re still fucking crazy.”
YOU — “Why do I want to tell you things? About the investigation, and the shit we’ve found, and all the cryptids Lena’s been teaching me about. Why does it feel natural to talk about shit with you?”
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — “I don’t know. Why does it?”
DRAMA [ Trivial: Success ] — A lie. The man doth test you.
EMPATHY [ Challenging: Success ] — He doesn’t want to give you any answers, because he doesn’t want to believe that you don’t already know them. It’s so much easier if this is a long, fucked-up practical joke.
PAIN TOLERANCE [ Challenging: Success ] — It wouldn’t even be the worst joke you’ve told him. It might be the most painful.
YOU — “We’ve done this before.”
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — He doesn’t say anything, but he spins his hand in a loose okay, sure, go on motion, so you speed on ahead.
YOU — “Which brings us to one of two theories.”
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — “Theories. Now we’re getting somewhere. Let’s hear them.”
YOU — “Theory number one: I’m super, incredibly corrupt and you’re the mob contact I feed information to. Someone on a medium-rung with the Madre; not too high up, but trying to climb the ranks. It would explain the wig, and the sunglasses, and the shitty attitude —“
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — He mutters under his breath: “Oh, my attitude is shitty, now. Shitkid thinks I have an attitude problem.”
YOU — “Or, theory B, we’re partners, and the disguise is…”
CONCEPTUALIZATION [ Formidable: Failure ] — A Halloween costume?
ENCYCLOPEDIA [ Easy: Success ] — All Hallow’s Eve, colloquially known as Halloween, is an autumnal holiday involving costumes, obscene amounts of chocolate, and, for some adults of legal drinking age, getting spectacularly drunk in costumes while eating obscene amounts of chocolate.
LOGIC [ Easy: Success ] — It was, notably, five months ago.
YOU — “A very late Halloween costume.”
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — He is incredibly unimpressed by all of these astounding leaps of logic. You’ve been doing logical acrobatics here, jumping from logic rooftop to logic rooftop and doing logic cartwheels in mid-air, and he does not care for any of it.
“Let’s go with the first one, then. Why not.”
YOU — “I don’t know. You don’t seem like a mob type.”
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — “Oh, so you’ve forgotten everything else, but you remember how to profile people? Well, that’s good.”
HALF LIGHT [ Medium: Success ] — Who is this guy to judge you like that? Like he hasn’t been sitting here like a lost puppy for the past two days in a stupid itchy fucking wig. It’s time to show him who’s boss. You’re a lieutenant double-yefreitor — even if you’ve only just learned what that means.
EMPATHY [ Formidable: Success ] — No. Look at him. He’s holding on by a string. You’ve almost got answers out of him, but only if you tread carefully.
YOU — “So, if we are partners,” you start.
REACTION SPEED [ Challenging: Failure ] — He cuts you off, pulling you down to his eye level by your tie.
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — “Shut up. Stop with all the fucking questions. I’m not one of your goddamn perps, you don’t get to work the goddamn can opener routine with me. Just shut the fuck up.”
PAIN THRESHOLD [ Medium: Failure ] — He’s right. You should shut up. Your theories were awful, anyways, and the look on his face feels like a stab wound to your gut.
EMPATHY [ Legendary: Success ] — What are you feeling?
SHIVERS [ Challenging: Success ] — Your heart is bombed-out ruins from a forgotten war. Your lungs are filled with rubble. It weighs you down. It will bury you.
CONCEPTUALIZATION [ Challenging: Success ] — Something in you, between you, is broken.
EMPATHY [ Challenging: Success ] — Guilt.
YOU — You are silent for a very long and painful moment. You keep your eyes somewhere over the man’s shoulder, roaming over the rest of the room without really taking anything in. A full minute passes, you looking at the broken windows, and him looking at you.
INLAND EMPIRE [ Medium: Success ] — He prefers to only look at you when you’re looking away. It is easier to see without being seen.
INTERFACING [ Easy: Success ] — His hand is still on your tie, though he isn’t gripping it tightly anymore.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [ Medium: Failure ] — Uh. Um. Yeah, I got nothing, chief. Come back to me later, maybe we can have some thoughts about the tie thing.
VOLITION [ Challenging: Success ] — You look him in the eyes.
YOU — “I’m sorry. For whatever I did to you. I’m sorry.”
EMPATHY [ Easy: Success ] — This was the wrong thing to say.
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — “Don’t.” He snaps like a wounded dog, his fist around your tie tightening and then shoving you out of his space, returning his hand quickly to his side.
He sighs. Something deflates, as if he’s breathed out the last of his anger.
CONCEPTUALIZATION [ Easy: Success ] — You can imagine it floating up to the rafters like cigarette smoke. It makes your lungs ache.
EMPATHY [ Formidable: Failure ] — You have no idea what he’s thinking. You have no idea who he is.
INLAND EMPIRE [ Challenging: Success ] — He will haunt you until you die, and then you will haunt him until he follows you. You are already haunting each other. Ghosts trapped in orbit. A binary star, dying.
ESPIRIT DE CORPS [ Legendary: Success ] — This is what it is to be partners.
THE MAN IN THE SUNGLASSES — “Stop apologizing, stop asking me questions. Go solve your goddamn murder. If you do that, if you finish the case, then maybe…” He can’t believe he’s saying this. “Then maybe we can talk about whatever you did to me.”
YOU — You nod. You can’t find any more words to say. They’re all stopped up in your throat, corked in a bottle labeled maybe when you’re finished.
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant has reached the limit of his patience. He coughs politely to get your attention. “Khm. Good morning. Lieutenant, if you’re ready to get started for the day…?”
YOU — You spare one more glance to the man in the sunglasses. He does not look back at you.
“Yeah, let’s go solve this.”