It's night

Go find someplace to sleep.​

 

You're not the biggest drinker on the planet. That is a reasonable supposition because although you can outdrink anyone you've met there are still more than a billion more people you've never seen drinking. That said, you're in the mood for something nice at least. Not some beer, beer is gross and cheap and unbecoming for a real human. Yes, you'd like something nice. Time to find a place in this city that will give you something worth downing.

It's getting late by the time you find a dive that makes a decent Long Island Iced Tea. It's a regular hive of scum and villainy to be certain, but hell, you're used to that. You may not like these people and may not be able to fight with them, but you can deal with them well enough even when you're a bit tipsy.

You've slammed back enough shots to bleed out an elephant and you're thinking about taking that next one already. You're stressed out, you noticed. You drink when you're stressed or worried. So what is it that's got you suddenly so worried? Was it Eff Bee? Was it Thorsen? Was it your intuition being off? You can't be sure, but you need to stop now. Work is work and this ain't work. You tip yourself onto the floor, wobbling slightly as you land. Well, coordination was never your game. You take a look around the bar, no one has noticed you. You take a look at your phone, it's time to find a place to stay.

You're drunk, you don't necessarily look it, but you're not in any mind to make decisions as the ones you probably will make. You see a cute girl a few seats down, blonde hair tied into a very fitting tail. She seems to be followed by this kind of lame looking guy. They're Americans, you can tell. You should...

[] Hit on her.
[] Hot in hwr.
[] Hpy um jdr.
[] G ori Bj wf.

 

Hit on her. Sleep requires company.

 

go hit on her​

 

You walk over as smoothly and confidently as possible. A girl stops you on your way over and you drop some bills into her drink and tell her to find someone nicer at a nicer place. No one can say you don't have a heart. When you reach the American girl, you sit down next to her at the bar and ask what she's doing in a city like this and a suit like that. She smiles and says sightseeing during her downtime. You tell her the bar makes a fantastic B-52 going down. She says that she doesn't drink when she's got work in the morning. So what's she doing here? She's looking for someone. Who? Are you usually this forward? Moreso, actually. How daring. Humans are so bored of their daily lives that what they're looking for, usually, is a little spice, a little danger. She's not biting it. Interesting.

She turns to her companion. They're platonic... no. HE'S PLATONIC, she wants the D. It might be the bomber in your gut talking, but you're sure of this one. Well, this is a lost cause. You tell her that he wants a normal girl and start away from her. She catches your sleeve and asks you why you think she isn't normal. You say that a normal girl would have gone down already. She raises an eyebrow and lets you go. Hmm. Paranoid to.

Outside you start feeling the alcohol a bit more. How many did you even have? There was a seven somewhere in there. Fuck, balance is out. Okay, you've got this. You've actually stumbled your way through a negotiation and then blacked out and forgotten how you saved that girl. This is nothing. You fall over a bag. Who leaves a bag on the ground?

She does. Girl you were looking for. She's real cute. You ask her if she's killed anyone lately. Whoops. She tells you that she'll be killing you later tonight. You ask if you can stay over at her house. She picks you up, dear god she's strong and places you on your feet. You ask if her bag is alright. She smiles and says no harm was done. Good, good. You ask her if she was serious about killing you. Her reply, "Deadly." You blink at her and start calling for a cab. She laughs and tells you that you won't be able to get a taxi like that. How then? Go to a place where they actually have regular hours. Oh. She tells you her house is nearby and that you'll have to keep up. You should...

[] Falloo hare.
[] Recline.

 

Recline. Pecline. ****, decline.

 

Falooow haroe​

 

Your thoughts are incredibly jumbled right now. You try to formulate a plan but nothing comes. You try to take a step forward but your leg just jitters. She's looking at you like you're an idiot. HOw many did you have? Okay, so she's the killer (maybe) that means you just need to hand her this briefcase in your hand and-- you tell her that you're not interested. By lying down on the pavement very quickly. She gasps a little and then you black out.

Spoiler

When you wake up the first thing you see is a very cute girl's face staring at yours. You do the natural thing and jump out of bed with a girlish shriek. She smiles and laughs. Crazy bitch. You ask her what's up and she says, "You, silly." Her English is in some upper middle class British accent. Probably grew up with some money. You ask what happened. She tells you that you passed out and she dragged you back home. By the time she got here she was so tired that she just threw you on the bed and went to sleep. Apparently, she had the day off today and she's spent most of it so far staring at your sleeping face. Crazy bitch. She also mentions that she brought your briefcase and thinks it's odd that he'd carry around so much cash. You tell her that it's hers. She tells you that she's aware and pushes the contract into your hands. She's good.

You read her signature and look back up to her. She's still smiling. So what now? She says you've probably got more people to look for if that contract is any indication. You're welcome to stay with her for a few more days if you plan on staying in India, but if not, you'd better hustle up. What do you do?

 

Spend another day there, something interesting might happen. Then bail out.​

 

Hit it and quit it, with the traditional "hitting" being done tonight and the even more traditional "quitting" being done tomorrow morning.

 

Your head is hurting something awful right now. This must be hangover related. You ask her if she's got any water for you. She shrugs and says she's got tons of water, but not for you. What? Then she walks out of the bedroom and comes back with a bottle of water, which she chucks at your face. You manage to catch it with the bridge of your nose and inspire a fit of giggles from the woman. Jeez, she throws like a Cuban immigrant. She's looking at you expectantly, like she's very interested in seeing what you do next. Now, you've dealt with a lot of girls in your time, but over the last 48 hours you've met the three weirdest ones that you can remember. Not that you wouldn't. Especially this one. She may be creepy and somewhat menacing all the time but she's got that statutory look despite being your age. You've gotta that.

She sees you smiling and says you look creepy. You bring yourself back to reality and offer her a drink. She downs some and hands it back. Not poisoned, probably. You finish what's left and tell her that you were born with this face. She says that's unfortunate. You say that you've made it work for you. She moves in closer and asks how. You tell her that it's all classified information. She pouts a little before asking if you want anything else. Hnng. You might just die if she does that again. More water is all, though. So, what's she doing for the rest of the day, looking after you? She wants to go shopping but needs someone to carry everything. How does she normally shop? No response. Fine, it's the least you can do for her letting you stay. That's the spirit!

Your headache is subsiding as you walk into the mall. It's amazing how westernized it is actually. If you were a casual observer, you might confuse this for somewhere in the States. She's doing cute things again, humming a silly tune this time. You know now isn't the time, but you want to commit a crime so badly. You ask her what you're going to be carrying. She says stuff. Lot's of stuff. Okay then. You really don't like the sound of that.

Your headache is returning as you walk out of the mall. It's amazing how dark it is, you must've been in there for hours. If you were doing this on your own you've have been in and out inside of thirty minutes. You'd also not being carrying a metric ton of clothes and knick knacks, but hey, anything to please your gracious host. She's flashing that gormless grin of hers at you. You ask what her job is that she can afford this stuff. She says she's a surgeon mostly. There are other things that you probably have heard about, but she mostly just stitches people back together. That's admirable. She asks what you do. You're a hostage negotiator. You tell people what to do and they do it. Ooh. That's sounds cool. She asks if you'd like to try it on her. What is this situation? You can't tell if she wants you or if she's just playing around. It's like talking to a child. You can distinguish between a lie and a fickle change of heart with her. This sucks.

Back at her apartment you unload all of her stuff and she sets to putting it away. She asks if you know how to cook. No. That's okay, you can just order out. Wait, can she not cook either? No, she just hates it. Why? Personal problem. Okay. So, what's around to order. Chinese. Really? In India, all there is to order is Chinese? Yup. Whatever. Yay.

Her flat is abnormally large you've noticed. It's not exactly a penthouse but it's got a kitchen, dining area, living room, master bedroom, guest room and 2 full baths. You supposed that most people with money prefer to keep in nicer places, but it's a lot for just one person isn't it. At dinner you ask if you should sleep in the guest room tonight. She tells you that she prefers company, like a teddy bear. Was that a no, or a yes?

After dinner she asks a little more about you. Simple stuff related to the job. You tell her that you're not supposed to say anything more than the contract indicates. She seems a little disappointed. Are you going to be coming on the job or are you just a recruiter? That one you can answer, but...

[] but what? Answer her.
[] you don't want to give her too much to go on, she's too smart for that. Don't answer.

 

I woke up just before you posted this. What the ****.

[] you don't want to give her too much to go on, she's too smart for that. Don't answer.

 

Avoid the question if at all possible.​

 

You tell her that you haven't been told enough to be certain. Your collective employer is a mysterious man, you tell her. She nods and says that she'd be much more comfortable if she knew more. You tell her that she already signed. Still, there are jitters, misgivings, general things. Oh, those aren't something you're used to. She smiles kind of emptily. Never knew she had a setting that wasn't 'cute'. You tell her that it's probably just a normal long term contract, nothing that bad. She looks at you for a while and tells you that she's going to bed. She has work in the morning. You tell her that you'd best be getting off as soon as possible to move onto the next mark. She smiles and invites you into her room.

When you're lying there with her you can feel the hot of her breath on your neck and the softness of her skin on your arm. It's awkward. She really did mean you were like a teddy bear to her. She's tangled herself around your arm and rests her head inches from your face. She fell asleep almost immediately. You can tell because you've been watching her face for an hour now and she's in REM sleep. Dreaming of something nice from the occasional sounds she makes. Stay strong, she's a murderer and a co-worker, two things that will prevent you from acting against her in such a crude way for now. Though, since she's taken a shine to you, you'll probably be able to leverage that later.

After a while you manage to get to sleep.

[] Wake.
[] Dream.

 

Me: Wake .

 

Dream about baby cows, or calves, your favorite animals.​

 

You're roused from dreams of eating veal when you feel something on your arm move. You're greeted once again with that staring face. An instant later she's pulling on your cheeks and laughing at you. How can she act like this at her age? She's going to act like she's 12 right before she goes to perform delicate surgery on which lives depend? Yuppers, cowboy. Hnng. That pain again. You think her method of killing might literally be just comprise talking and winking at certain intervals. You ask her if she dreamt well. She says she had a dream about driving a tire with small cars for wheels. The funny part apparently is that she's not a licensed driver. She asks you what your dream was about. You said you were on a farm and the farmer's served you veal, your favorite animal. She tells you that cows are cute and you shouldn't kill them. Nothing that wants to live tastes that delicious. She pouts. Hnng. While you're recovering from her most recent assault, she heads for the shower. Tricky girl.

You decide to use the other bathroom to get cleaned up and ready to go. It's a very sparingly stocked little place. Also, very clean. She doesn't use it at all, it seems. In fact, she seems not to use her apartment for much but eating an sleeping. So why'd she go and buy all that shit... Probably to get at you. You're not sure how to manipulate her, but you know that she won't manipulate you. You finish showering well before her and look through your phone. Two messages arrive. One from Thorsen and the other from Eff Bee. Which do you look at first?

 

Thorsen .

 

Thorsen's message, then Eff Bee's.​

 

Your message from Thorsen is in your normal inbox, so you look at it first. It's not directly fro him, clearly, but you know what a message from him looks like. The orders are simple. Pick up will be at noon today on the other side of town. Then you'll have to book it to Vietnam or something. Easy. You take a marker and put a T on that phone. This phone will only be used for contact with Thorsen from now on. Everything else will be done from the backup phone. You're certain he's got some form of bug program infecting it by now.

Eff Bee now. On your backup phone you access the AR application and start looking around for the message. Oh, how convenient, it's right-- On. Her. Breasts. You're going to have someone kill Eff Bee for mocking you like this. The cute girl, whose name you still don't know, just walked in with naught but her towel hanging loosely over her petit frame. The AR app however seems to prefer showing her with a nekomimi outfit. Hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng. You swear you saw the other side that time. She asks you if you've seen her hairbands. You hand one to her from the nearest table while trying to keep your eyes respectfully averted. She tells you it's fine to look after you put up with her sleeping habits last night. Bless her and all, but you take the opportunity to open the message and then ask her to show a little modesty. It's unfitting for a woman to behave so nonchalantly around a near perfect stranger. She grins pulls the towel up slightly before returning to her room. Too close.

Message is simple. Says to relay all information you can gather regarding the assassins to Eff Bee through geotag dead drops each time you meet with them. The location is immaterial, you just need to use the chest feature they added to your account. Basically, only people that they want to communicate with can open chests. Okay, cool. If you refuse to comply you'll get iced. Really, iced? Who wrote this? Whatever, it's not like you've got a choice in the matter. You decide to wait for the girl to leave for work, you ask her one final thing though. What's her name? Well, what would she like to be called more like? Aria. Oh, that's... pretty. She smiles and says that she'll ask for your name when you next meet. How sweet.

You leave her apartment with her and make ready to...

[] Pick up the dead drop.
[] Leave the dead drop.