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Chapter Text

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - It's been exactly 19 hours since you've wrapped the case of “The Hanged Man” into a neat little bow, and left to receive medical attention for your cracked hip in Jamrock.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Medical attention you desperately needed.

ENDURANCE - Not true. You could've easily walked it off.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Formidable: Failure] - The ever present throbbing in your thigh and wince in your step says otherwise.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - Regardless , you were finally discharged a little under an hour ago. Considering the pressure he was under, not to mention the injuries he was facing himself, the lieutenant did an excellent job sewing you back together. It was your running, climbing, and thrashing that ended up tearing the stitching.

VOLITION - Jean wasn't lying when he said you looked as though you needed an organ transplant.

YOU - Okay, okay, I get it. Shouldn't I be fine now?

ENDURANCE - Yes.

PAIN THRESHOLD - No.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - On average, it takes between two to three weeks to heal from a bullet wound such as yours, though you may need a cane for the rest of your life. Most medical professionals wouldn't advise walking this much this soon.

YOU - Then why am I walking?

RHETORIC - That's simple. Jamrock General Hospital doesn't have room for you. You aren't dead or dying, and you need to make room for the people who are.

SHIVERS [Challenging: Success] - A dozen or so kilometers away lies a hospital. Inside, a withered, elderly man takes his final breath, alone but unflinching in the face of death. The room next door reeks of disinfectant, while a teenage boy sits by an occupied bed, praying for his mother's swift recovery. A nurse steps out of the chaos, and into the city's watchful gaze for a smoke break.

INTERFACING - You have a shiny new cane, some Drouamine, and instructions on how to take care of a bullet wound. That's all you really need.

VOLITION - There’s somewhere else you need to be right now anyways.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - You know it.

INLAND EMPIRE - We don't need to be here.

YOU - Yeah, can't we go back to the hospital? Or Martinaise? I liked Martinaise!

SHIVERS - Not as much as you like Jamrock.

RHETORIC - Besides, weren't you listening? You can't go back to the hospital. They don't want you, there isn't room.

INLAND EMPIRE - There's no room for you in that apartment either. There isn't a court on Earth that would sentence you if you turned away right now. It's simply the correct thing to do.

SUGGESTION [Trivial: Success] - You shouldn't though. It would be strange if you hopped out of the Lieutenant’s moving vehicle and started walking away.

VOLITION [Challenging: Success] - A hospital isn't a home. A hostel in Martinaise isn't either. No one said it would be easy, but you need a place to call your own again.

COUPRIS KINEEMA - The vehicle comes to a slow stop as what many would call your apartment complex comes into view. The engine softly purrs as it begins to die down, and the radio is slowly silenced.

PERCEPTION (AUDITORY) - 163.FM is a niche little station that plays nothing but popular ‘30's tunes, 24 hours a day, seven days a week. It's also one of the only stations that still plays disco consistently, or rather, the only one the lieutenant knows of. You've frequented it quite a bit in the past.

EMPATHY - The lieutenant doesn’t care much for this kind of music, but he put it on anyway. He knows this is going to be tough on you.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - A little disco for the road. Much appreciated.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - The building casts a wide shadow over the car. The sky is overcast, as though it might rain later today.

• Observe your surroundings.

1. “Alright, let's go inside.” (Proceed)
2. “Kim, I don't think I can do this.”
3. [SAVOIR FAIRE: GODLY] Run out of the Kineema.

-1: Kim is here.

-3: Leg still hurts.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - This building has definitely seen better days. The entrance to the place has stray bits of garbage littering it. An empty, disposable styrofoam coffee cup crumpled on the sidewalk. A plastic bag blowing in the wind, wrappers and cigarettes blossoming from a nearby bush. The air reeks with something rotten, though it's impossible to tell whether it's garbage, a skunk, or both.

AUTHORITY - The door leading into the complex looks beaten, as though someone once tried to break in.

SAVOIR FAIRE - four… five… six…There seems to be six stories to this building, judging by the number of windows.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - 406. If Jean is correct, you live on the fourth floor.

YOU - Is this significant, or…?

ENDURANCE - Yes. It's significant because it means you're about to climb four flights of stairs.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Legendary: Failure] - Your thigh involuntarily throbs in pain to the tune of your heartbeat, as if to ask what it ever did to you to deserve this.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Formidable: Success] - You aren't going to be climbing all four flights of stairs. All buildings with more than one story in Revachol are required by law to have an elevator.

RHETORIC - Quite a few of them are broken, but that's not the point.

YOU - Okay, sure, we'll climb that stair when we get to it. Anything else?

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Besides that, there's a small tree growing just outside the structure. It doesn't look like it belongs here.

SHIVERS - It may be cut down one day. But here? Right now? It's nice.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - There's also a small set of illustrations on the sidewalk, likely drawn with chalk. They look like they belong to a child. Simplistic doodles of a large cat, and a bird, surrounded by trees. The sun is drawn with a large face, smiling down upon the creatures.

SHIVERS - Somewhere, in a shabby little apartment inside the remains of the building, a little girl has lunch with her father. She can't be any older than eight. Her dad watched as she colored the sidewalk, beaming with pride as she told the friends he had over that she was going to be an artist one day. 

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - There's so much pain in the world, but none in that apartment.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant clears his throat when he notices you staring out the window. “Are you ready to head in?”

SUGGESTION - He's asking honestly. He'd be willing to listen to disco for a little longer.

INLAND EMPIRE - That sounds like a good idea.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - I agree. Staying with Kim and listening to disco for the rest of our life sounds like the way to go.

1. Observe your surroundings
2. “Alright, let's go inside.” (Proceed)

• “Kim, I don't think I can do this.”

1. [SAVOIR FAIRE: GODLY] Run out of the Kineema.

-1: Kim is here.

-3: Leg still hurts.

YOU - Your voice is steady, though you feel like you could crack at any moment.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant’s gaze remains fixed on yours. “Yes, you can. You've gotten this far.” His tone suggests he isn't willing to change his mind about this.

1. “What if it's as bad as Jean said it was?”

• “But do we have to do this? Maybe I can just live in Whirling?”

1. [SAVOIR FAIRE: GODLY] Running is still an option.

-1: Kim is still here.

-3: Leg still hurts.

KIM KITSURAGI - He swiftly pulls his set of keys from the ignition, the Kineema falling silent as he speaks. “No offense, but I don't think Mr. Garte would be willing to take you in as a tenant.”

DRAMA - A lie sire! He let Klaasje stay in the Whirling for months, you could do the same!

LOGIC [Easy: Success] - It's the polite way of saying, “Garte wouldn't want you as a tenant because you're very very broke. And also because you trashed the room you were staying in. And for other reasons too, probably.”

YOU - “What if I just moved instead? Preferably as far away from here as possible?”

KIM KITSURAGI - He seems to genuinely consider it for a moment, glancing towards the beat up complex outside. “Maybe…” his voice trails off. “...but you'd still need to take your belongings. You can't abandon it all. ”

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Yes. Yes you can. Abandon it all. Burn it to the ground.

HALF LIGHT - Nevermind the arson! He’s taking the keys out of the ignition! Stop him, do something!

• “What if it's as bad as Jean said it was?”

1. “But do we have to do this? Maybe I can just live in Whirling?”
2. [SAVOIR FAIRE: GODLY] Running is still an option.

-1: Kim is still here.

-3: Leg still hurts.

KIM KITSURAGI - The detective's hand freezes as he frowns. “What Mr. Viquemare has to say is irrelevant. We can determine the state of your apartment for ourselves.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION - What Jean had to say was that living in this apartment is a lost cause. That it looked like a “portal to hell,” and burning it down would be a better use of your, and more importantly, Lieutenant Kitsuragi's time.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Just under an hour ago, two officers of the RCM stood by your hospital bed. “You don't even have your fucking keys, Harry. You need keys to get into a house, remember? You probably lost them when you decided to drive your goddamn vehicle into the sea.”

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - “Throw him in a cell with the rest of the drunkards, better than sleeping in there.” He mutters, just quiet enough to where he thinks no one can hear him.

YOU - “He made it sound pretty bad in there. What did he say? ‘A tornado of speed and booze?’”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Starting to have second thoughts about staying in the car. Sounds like my kind of tornado.

INLAND EMPIRE [Trivial: Success] - This is exactly why you shouldn't go in there. There's still time. Think of what Kim will say when he sees it. Jean had every right to be disgusted by the state of your home. Beg the Lieutenant to drive away.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Heroic: Failure] - He wouldn't be disgusted by you… would he?

KIM KITSURAGI - His tone is firm when he speaks. Cold as steel, while still managing to barely contain his professional neutrality. “Despite what he seems to believe, Mr. Viquemare is not the highest authority on whether your home is salvageable. You, however, are.”

ESPRIT DE CORPS - That kind of behavior is unprofessional , he thinks. Talking to a senior officer like that is incredibly unprofessional.

EMPATHY - And cruel. Unprofessional and cruel.

AUTHORITY - He sounded like a real officer of the law when he said that. You should take notes.

COMPOSURE - Almost imperceptibly, he takes a breath before continuing, unclenching the gear stick.

KIM KITSURAGI - “We'll determine how to proceed when we see your apartment for ourselves, lieutenant double-yfretoir.”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Oh, say it again, Kim!

YOU - “Can you say that again, Kim?”

KIM KITSURAGI - He looks confused for a moment, before smiling. “Let's take a look at your apartment, lieutenant double-yfretoir.”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Are his ears red?

COUPRIS KINEMMA - The car is silent. There's only one thing left to do.

1. Observe your surroundings

• “Alright, let's do this.” (Proceed)

1. “Kim, I don't think I can do this.”
2. [SAVOIR FAIRE: GODLY] Run out of the Kineema.

-1: Kim is here.

-3: Leg still hurts.

ENDURANCE - You step onto the cracked pavement leading up to the building. The cane is definitely helping. It feels nice. Secure. As though it was meant to be with you.

VOLITION - See? This is fine. You’re going to be fine.

INLAND EMPIRE - There's still time…

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - The entrance looks pleasant enough. It's small, but there's a large set of stairs taking up about half of the room.

VISUAL CALCULUS - 16. There are 16 steps to that flight of stairs.

LOGIC - Assuming each flight is roughly the same, that's 64 steps to apartment 406.

REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] - Hold on just a minute! What about the elevator? Shouldn't there be an elevator?

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - There is an elevator. That's taking up the left side of the room.

ELEVATOR NOTE - A note taped to it reads “OUT OF SERVICE.”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant hums and crosses his arms, staring down the note. It's obvious he isn't thrilled about this discovery.

SAVOIR FAIRE - He was really counting on the elevator being in working condition. He didn't like the idea of climbing four flights of stairs either.

PAIN THRESHOLD - He still doesn't like the idea of climbing four flights of stairs, but it can't be helped.

YOU - “Looks like we won't be able to take the elevator up.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Yes, that seems to be the case. Will you…” He turns to look at you, trailing off as he does.

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - He wants to ask if you'll be alright, but he isn't sure if your answer is going to change anything.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - A large cork board catches your eye. It's encased in glass, and contains various colorful slips of paper.

YOU - Anything interesting?

OVERWHELMING CORK BOARD - Nothing really. It's a little overstimulating to try and sort through. Dozens of pieces of paper crowd your vision. A missing poster for someone's cat, an eviction notice here and there, and some advertisements for local businesses are the only things that seem noteworthy to your set of eyes.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant squints at the board, standing just behind you. He's searching for something.

KIM KITSURAGI - “None of these notices look like they're for you.” He says. “That's a good sign. It means you haven't been too behind on rent.”

HALF LIGHT [Easy: Success] - That's true. Despite everything, you still have a roof to sleep under.

INLAND EMPIRE - Unless your roof has caved in.

YOU - Has it caved in, or are you just saying that to scare me?

INLAND EMPIRE - I don't know. Maybe.

HALF LIGHT - If he is, it's working.

LOGIC [Trivial: Success] - Don't be ridiculous. You're on the 4th story. If your roof has caved in, someone's floor has caved in. Then you'd be evicted.

YOU - “Maybe they just didn't hang it for everyone to see. I could still be homeless.”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant considers it for a moment. “Maybe. We'll cross that bridge if we get to it.”

COMPOSURE - God, he really is unshakeable.

VOLITION - He's right too. There's no point in worrying about something that hasn't happened. Just relax, Harry.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Now, should we get going?”

• “This is gonna suck.” (PROCEED)

1. [SUGGESTION: GODLY] Think of a reason to leave.

-1: Kim is here.

+1: You have a very, very bad feeling about this.

KIM KITSURAGI - That makes him crack a smile. “This is definitely gonna suck.”

PAIN THRESHOLD [Impossible: Failure] - The climb up is painful beyond words, your knee in particular getting the worst of it. Every time you've taken a step, for the past dozen steps, you've felt as though it'll be your last.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - A trace of sweat runs down your forehead. You've been gripping the railing like a life line the entire time. Eventually, you take a break.

KIM KITSURAGI - You and the lieutenant sit at the top of the third flight of stairs. “One set left.” The lieutenant says. “I'm ready whenever you are.”

VOLITION - He means it. Take a breather. The worst thing you could do is tear your stitching.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - As you sit there, you hear the sound of footsteps hurriedly heading up the stairs. A young man turns the corner, spotting you and the lieutenant.

GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - He's young, younger than you at least. Can't be any older than 37. His hair is kept in a ponytail, and he seems to be growing out a beard. The bright red t-shirt he's wearing catches your attention, though you can't seem to recall what it may be referencing.

HALF LIGHT - A ponytail?

GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - Yes. His hair is pulled back, and it reaches just below his shoulder blade. It looks good on him.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Unrelated, but I wonder how long your hair might be?

GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - Your attention is drawn back to the man as he smiles, just a little. “Hey, you good? You look a little pale.”

ENDURANCE - This kid doesn't know what he's talking about. You look great.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Heroic: Failure] - No, you don't. You feel like you're gonna fall over if you have to climb another set of stairs.

1. “Gonna be honest with you, I feel like shit man.”
2. “I’m fine. I'm great, actually! I just look naturally pale and corpse-like.” (Lie)

• “Do you live here?”

GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - “Sure do. Moved back in with my mom about a month ago. You know how it is.”

GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - His brow furrows as his gaze lands on your cane, laying haphazardly against the stairs. “You didn't answer my question though.”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant says nothing. He isn't involved in this conversation. It's your call.

• “Gonna be honest with you, I feel like shit man.”

1. “I’m fine. I'm great, actually! I just look naturally pale and corpse-like.” (Lie)
2. “Do you live here?”

THE GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - He laughs, loud and sudden. “Yeah man, I hear you, these stairs are killer! I live all the way on the fifth floor, so you can imagine the workout I get everyday.” Placing a hand on his knee, he grins. “Look on the bright side, you'll never skip leg day crashing here.”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - It isn't just the leg. The withdrawals are doing a number on you too. A drink could help with that, you know?

AUTHORITY - Aren't landlords supposed to be responsible for fixing these things? Isn't that, like, their whole job? Where the fuck is your landlord!?

YOU - “How long has this elevator been out anyways?”

THE GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - “I wouldn't know. I only moved in towards… the end of February? It's been out since I got here.” He shrugs. “I'd have to ask my mom. She'd probably know.”

THE GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - “It's been kind of a pain in the ass, but, hey? What can you do?”

RHETORIC - This elevator could be broken for weeks, months, hell, even years if tenants don't make a big enough stink about it. Landlords will do anything to avoid spending réal on the health of the complex, and there's often nothing to be done about it.

AUTHORITY - You should do something about it! A little intimidation never hurt anyone.

THE GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - But the moment passes before you can say anything. “I could grab a glass of water for you, if you want.”

• “You're a lifesaver, thanks.”

1. “I actually lied earlier, I feel fantastic.” (Lie)

THE GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - “Don’t mention it.” He gives you a thumbs up before heading up the stairs, leaving you and the lieutenant seated in the stairway.

SUGGESTION - We should ask him if we know him. You know, alcohol induced amnesia and all.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - You clearly don't. He only moved in about a month ago, and he lives in the story above you.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Besides, he didn't seem to know you either.

LOGIC - His mother, on the other hand…

THE GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - The young man returns a few minutes later, full plastic water bottle in hand. “Here, catch.”

WATER BOTTLE OF DEATH - The bottle comes flying towards you, just above the lieutenants head.

HALF LIGHT - OH MY GOD, CATCH IT!

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Relax, I've got it!

• [HAND/EYE COORDINATION: MEDIUM] Catch the water bottle.

1. Just let it fall.

SUCCESS

HAND/EYE COORDINATION [Medium: Success] - It's nothing to be proud of, really. It's only a bottle of water. Still, it feels nice when you manage to catch it.

COMPOSURE - Yes. We don't need a repeat of what happened with the Speedfreaks.

GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - “Anyways, I've gotta run. Hope you feel better man!”

SUGGESTION - Ask him for his name! 

REACTION SPEED [Challenging: Failure] - Wait, huh?

GUY WITH THE PONYTAIL - But it's too late. The man has already begun the ascent up the stairs.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - You don't know his name, nor his apartment number. It's possible you may never be able to thank him.

DRAMA - Uh. Sire, if I may dissuade your fears, have you forgotten that he lives in the same complex as you?

RHETORIC - You're bound to run into each other again at some point. You can thank him then.

KIM KITSURAGI - The man sitting beside you notices you staring at the stairwell, water bottle still in hand. “Are you going to drink that?” 

PAIN THRESHOLD - The water is chilling and refreshing as you chug it down. By the time you're done, you feel like you could take on the world.

+1 MORALE

+1 HEALTH

VOLITION - Or at least your apartment. Let's settle for your apartment for now.

INLAND EMPIRE - No no no no.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Are you ready, detective?”

• “Ready to limp.” (PROCEED)

1. [SUGGESTION: GODLY] Think of a reason to leave.

-1: You've come this far.

-1: Think of the climb down!

-1: Kim is here.

+1: You have a very, very bad feeling about this.

YOU - Surely I've gotten through the worst by this point? It can't get any worse than finding my car in the sea, right?

INLAND EMPIRE - It can. Human misery is all you will find at 406. A disgusting den of grief and shame. Turn back now.

VOLITION - Stop it. He made his decision.

INLAND EMPIRE - I'm trying to warn you…

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - The rest of the climb is relatively painless, meaning you're only in a lot of pain, as opposed to feeling like you're on death's door. It’s much shorter than you expected as well. In a few minutes, you find yourself staring down the door of apartment 406.

KIM KITSURAGI - The sound of jingling keys grabs your attention, as the lieutenant pulls out a pair.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - You lost yours. Jean had a spare set.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant's hand hovers above the lock of the door.

EMPATHY - He's nervous.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - For you.

• Observe your surroundings.

1. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
2. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
3. Leave.

APARTMENT 406 - What is there to observe? It's a door. A dark red door with a dirty, metal doorknob. 

YOU - Isn't there anything remarkable about it? There's always something interesting.

APARTMENT 406 - It's a door, Harry. It looks a little old, there's some chipping at the bottom, but this is a regular, boring door.

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - Wait! Here's a sliver of good news. You don't have any sort of eviction notice. That's good, isn't it?

HALF LIGHT - It should be, but you barely even process the information before disregarding it, throwing it into a little trash bin inside your brain. Evictions don’t matter when you're about to walk into hell itself.

VOLITION - This is doing nothing to calm your nerves.

YOU - What about scent? Is there any kind of odor, anything I can smell?

PERCEPTION (SCENT) - Nothing, really. You catch the faint scent of something bad, but it's impossible to tell what it could be with the door closed.

YOU - Okay, is there anything else? Anything?

HALF LIGHT - There's nothing. You're going in blind.

YOU - It can't be that bad, right? Right?

VOLITION - It could.

INLAND EMPIRE - IT IS.

KIM KITSURAGI - Your partner looks up as he notices your staring competition with the door. “Detective?”

1. Observe your surroundings.
2. “Okay. Let's do this.”

• “I have a bad feeling about this.”

1. Leave.

KIM KITSURAGI - His eyes soften as he frowns. “You have good reason too. It's normal. You haven't been well.”

EMPATHY - Expect the Whirling, he thinks. But worse.

KIM KITSURAGI - He places his hand on your shoulder as he looks you in the eye. It's grounding. Makes you feel as though you aren't spiraling headfirst into an abyss. You try your best not to look away. “But whatever it looks like in there, it will be salvageable. Remember what your room looked like at the Whirling?”

YOU - You feel yourself smirk. “Like the scene of a homicide?”

KIM KITSURAGI - He pauses. “I was gonna say like a hurricane hit your room specifically, but yours works too.” He smiles as he continues. “My point is, it wasn't beyond repair. This will be fine, lieutenant double-yfretoir. ”

APARTMENT 406 - The door stares back at you, daring you to open it.

1. Observe your surroundings.

• “Okay. Let's do this.”

1. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
2. Leave.

YOU - Your voice manages to stay strong, but you feel like your heart is about to give out. 

HALF LIGHT [Formidable: Failure] - Are you having a heart attack? You might be having a heart attack.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant nods, pushing the key into the lock and turning it.

APARTMENT 406 - You hear a click as the door opens effortlessly.

PERCEPTION (SCENT) - It's too dark for anything to immediately jump out at you, but the odor hits you like a train. Sweat, vomit, and piss fills your nostrils.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Sounds like your kind of party.

COMPOSURE [Heroic: Success] - You put your whole hand into the mouth of a corpse once. This is nothing compared to The Hanged Man. Keep it together.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant doesn’t seem phased either, stepping into the apartment, and running his hand along the wall in search of a lightswitch.

KIM KITSURAGI - He hums softly as you hear a click. Nothing. “It looks like you didn't pay your electricity bill before you were assigned to the case.”

APARTMENT 406 - He's right, you haven't. However, it seems you at least paid your rent at the end of the last month. It'll be due come the end of March.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - You may have spent the money for electricity on more important things.

YOU - And just to be clear, I haven't been evicted?

HALF LIGHT - Yet.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant prepared for this possibility. He has a flashlight in his hand.

APARTMENT 406 - You make a conscious effort to not look at anything in particular as you enter the apartment- your apartment.

VISUAL CALCULUS - The air feels stale, as though no one has been in this room for years. It feels overwhelming, sickening in a way. You can hear empty wrappers crunch beneath your feet like the bones of a small animal. A glint of light catches your eye.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Woah, woah woah! Is that what I think it is!?

REACTION SPEED - Of course it is. It's a shiny needle haphazardly discarded on the dusty wooden floor. Empty.

VOLITION - Tell Kim. He likes it when you tell him about these sorts of things.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Good idea! Share it with Kim! Skip this depressing, deep clean bullshit, and take whatever beautiful substance is hidden in there.

REACTION SPEED - Didn't you hear me? It's empty. There's nothing to share with Kim.

VOLITION - And it would be stupid to pour your first attempt at sobriety down the drain in front of him. Go with the original idea, please.

YOU - “Watch your step, there are some needles lying around.”

KIM KITSURAGI - The detective blinks, before looking towards where you're pointing. He crouches down, and carefully scoops it into a small, plastic bag normally used for evidence. “Noted. Good find. Actually, do you mind if I throw out what you have laying around?”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - NO! Tell him to get his own drugs!

VOLITION - No, no. This is smart, let him. It’s a bad idea to have all of this at your disposal.

• “Knock yourself out. You’re gonna need a bigger bag though.”

1. “No, get your own!”

KIM KITSURAGI - You see him nod silently. “Let's have a quick look around, and then we can head out.”

• “I thought we were- I was cleaning it?”

1. Give him an enthusiastic thumbs up.
2. “Actually can we leave, like, now? I'd really like to leave now instead.”

KIM KITSURAGI - He doesn't seem to notice your slip up, or if he does, he doesn't care. “We will, detective. I just think it would be wise to know what we're cleaning first.”

VISUAL CALCULUS - After all, it's going to take a lot to clean this.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - This is what the biohazard technicians do every day. Clean up shitshow after shitshow.

1. “I thought we were- I was cleaning it?”
2. Give him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

• “Actually can we leave, like, now? I'd really like to leave now instead.”

COMPOSURE [Challenging: Success] - Is what you want to say, but nothing comes out. You hang there, mouth half open as words try to escape your brain.

YOU - What? Why can't I say anything?

VOLITION - Because nothing is wrong. Everything is still together. You entered your apartment, and the world hasn't been ripped into two.

INLAND EMPIRE - YET.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Something the matter?”

1. “I thought we were- I was cleaning it?”

• Give him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

1. “Actually can we leave, like, now? I'd really like to leave now instead.”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant adjusts his glasses and returns the gesture. The sudden silence doesn't worry him too much anymore, these things simply happen with you.

INLAND EMPIRE - But he should be worried. Very worried.

APARTMENT 406 - The smell is only slightly more bearable as you adjust to your new surroundings.

• Inspect the living room.

1. Examine the bedroom.
2. Search the kitchen.
3. Investigate the bathroom.

APARTMENT 406 - It's where you're currently standing, now that you think about it. There's an old, tattered looking couch, dark red in color. Up ahead is the kitchen, as well as the bathroom, while it looks like your bedroom is off to the right.

VOMIT COUCH - The couch looks comforting. Inviting, even. There are two, soft looking blankets thrown over it, and a noticeable tear in one of the cushions.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - As though a wild beast broke into your apartment and went straight for your beloved sofa.

SUGGESTION - Sitting down and taking a load off doesn't seem like a terrible idea right now.

VOMIT COUCH - On second thought, you notice what seems to be stains of vomit amongst the cushions, as well as a small bucket on the hard, wooden floor.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - The smell is rancid. You almost feel as though you can taste the vomit yourself, the ghost of a hangover filling your tastebuds.

• [COMPOSURE: FORMIDABLE] Venture deeper into the living room.

1. I don’t feel ready to address the vomit couch right now. Or any of this, really. (LOOK ELSEWHERE)

FAILURE

COMPOSURE [Formidable: Failure] - It’s too much, it always is. However many years of drinking, and you’ve never grown a stomach for the smell of vomit. You're going to be sick if you take another step. You don’t want to imagine what it might smell like in that bucket.

INLAND EMPIRE - Really. Don't imagine it.

VOLITION - This isn't an issue. You'll just have to come back to it later. Is there anything else in the living room?

SAVOIR FAIRE - It's difficult to find anything of note in the dark. Old, crumpled newspapers litter the ground around you. The oldest issue you can find is from November of ‘50.

OBITUARY OF NOV ‘50 - About five months ago.

YOU - What does it say?

OBITUARY OF NOV ‘50 - “String of overdoses leave Jamrock Public High School devastated.”

EMPATHY - Oh.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - This case was hard on you. The first in a series of mini breaking points over the next five months.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Don't lie to yourself. Much, much longer than five months.

YOU - Did I ever solve the case?

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Never. Students kept dying, parents kept being notified, classes kept growing smaller. You never could find out who was poisoning these kids. Eventually it slowed down. It went from three kids a month to one every three. You were never going to solve this, everyone knew it. Not for a lack of talent, or dedication: nobody was going to solve this case. Any leads you had went cold, the case was shelved, and you found something else to chase after, something you could solve.

PAIN THRESHOLD - But you never forgot. Never.

VOLITION - Maybe we should look at something else…

APARTMENT 406 - The only sound that fills the apartment is the zipping of Kim’s jacket as he puts something into a bag.

1. Inspect the living room.
2. Examine the bedroom.

• Search the kitchen.

1. Investigate the bathroom.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Psst!

YOU - Yeah?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Pssst! I'm talking to you!

PERCEPTION (AUDITORY) - Who else would you be trying to talk to?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - I see what you're trying to do, sneaking off into the kitchen.

YOU - What the fuck are you talking about?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - That's where all the good stuff is! The liquor! The beer! The booze! This is where you get your party on!

VISUAL CALCULUS - We're not trying to get our party on. We're trying to investigate a crime scene.

VOLITION - You mean home.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Whatever. I know what you were really trying to do, Harry. Finally! Let's get some liquor in you!

VOLITION - Let's tell Kim if we see any alcohol.

EMPATHY - The counters of the kitchen look worn, as though they've survived a lifetime. A sticky, unidentifiable substance covers them, likely spilt liquor.

EMPTY KITCHEN - The lack of food in the cabinets and drawers makes your stomach drop. Aside from a few small mustard and ketchup packets, tools, and measuring cups, there's almost nothing in here.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - This is where the fridge comes in handy!

INLAND EMPIRE - Don't.

YOU - Why?

INLAND EMPIRE - Just don't.

YOU - But why?

INLAND EMPIRE - I don’t know. It's not my job to know these things. I just know you shouldn't do it. Ask someone else.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Impossible: Failure] - Uh.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Impossible: Failure] - Hm.

RHETORIC [Impossible: Failure]  - I’ve got nothing.

INLAND EMPIRE - See?

VOLITION - This guy doesn't know what he's talking about. Everything has been okay so far. The hard part was working up the courage to step inside. You got past the hard part, Harry.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - It's all smooth sailing from here…

• Fuck it, I'm opening the fridge. (PROCEED)

1. You know, looking at anything else sounds like a really good idea!

PERCEPTION (SCENT) - As you open the door of the fridge, the smell of something awful hits your nose. For just a moment, as it's right next to your face, it smells worse than any corpse you’ve ever had to handle. Then the feeling fades, and you're left with something that simply smells very, very bad.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - That's not party time.

INLAND EMPIRE [Godly: Success] - It reeks like a months old tuna sandwich left in a fridge with no power.

YOU - Is that what it is??

SANDWICH OF SHAME - It's impossible to tell now. It was definitely a sandwich, that much is clear, but its contents have been lost to time and mold.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Is there anything else?

COMPOSURE - Your eyes won't leave the sandwich. It stares at you, rotten and fuzzy, begging to know why you abandoned it.

VOLITION - Is there anything else?

• [COMPOSURE: CHALLENGING] Keep it together.

-1: THE.

-1: BAD.

-1: FEELING.

1. [PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: HEROIC] Slam the fridge shut.

-1: Can't stop staring at it.

FAILURE

VOLITION - This is fine. You've smelt much, much worse before. Just keep it-

COMPOSURE [Challenging: Failure] - This is your home.

-1 MORALE

VOLITION - What?

COMPOSURE - You lived in this apartment for years. You lived in this for months. The long outdated newspapers, and the vomit you felt too shitty to look at, and the piss, and the liquor, and the needles, and the speed, and the rotting sandwich in your fridge. You let yourself live like this, you broken, beaten animal.

YOU - No…

COMPOSURE - You've slept on that couch, trying not to choke on your own vomit, and stored Commodore Red next to the maggot filled food you didn't have the energy to throw out, in the powerless fridge next to the moldy counters.

HALF LIGHT - You feel your chest seize up.

COMPOSURE - Five months of living in a shit den, Harry. Five months of letting yourself live in this. Five months of stepping over empty needles, and five months of living on takeout, and five months of letting that sandwich rot in a fridge, because the thought of cleaning it out made you want to throw up.

INLAND EMPIRE - Longer.

-1 MORALE

HALF LIGHT - The edge of your vision goes a little blurry, and a soft ringing fills your ears.

YOU - Stop! Stop, please, what the fuck is happening to me?

HALF LIGHT - It's harder to breathe the longer you stand next to the fridge. The mold is transferring from the sandwich directly into your lungs.

LOGIC [Trivial: Success] - That's not…

VOLITION - Go get some air.

• But Kim…

1. Get as far away from the sandwich as you can.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - He won't mind. Go.

1. But Kim…

• Get as far away from the sandwich as you can.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Your feet carry you as fast as they can, while you occasionally hold onto the wall to maintain stability. Hand over your mouth to try and keep yourself from… sobbing? Throwing up? It's hard to say, everything wants to come out.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant turns, saying something as you exit, though it all sounds worryingly muffled to you.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Turning to the fridge, he looks inside, then back towards the front door.

EMPATHY - He understands.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - The calm, odorless air of the hallway is a welcome change of pace compared to the stench of the apartment.

HALF LIGHT - Your heart is still going off like a jackhammer though. Thump, thump, thump…

SUGGESTION - Nothing a little fresh air can't fix.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Climbing down the stairs in this state is a death sentence.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Formidable: Success] - Once, a man fleeing the scene of a crime broke his arm falling down a set of stairs. He was sprinting too fast to watch where he was going, too high on panic and fear. If he had, maybe he would've noticed his shoes were untied.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - You can handle it. You won't be stupid. Your snakeskin shoes don’t even have laces. You're responsible .

SAVOIR FAIRE - Your legs are shaking. For the first time since entering, you realize you don't have your cane with you. You must've dropped it in the apartment while you were fleeing.

HALF LIGHT - We're not leaving this story. You'll break your neck climbing down.

COMPOSURE - Your heart rate picks up as you stare down the set of stairs. A sudden wave of nausea comes over you, alongside a terrifying realization.

HALF LIGHT [Impossible: Failure] - You will die here.

YOU - I'm not dying. I can't be dying.

VOLITION - You aren't.

HALF LIGHT - You are.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Legendary: Failure] - Feeling a sense of doom is a common sign of a heart attack. There’s a non-zero chance you'll be dead in a few minutes.

ENDURANCE - It's a pathetic way to go out. A moldy sandwich frightening you to death. If you do go down, you should go down like a rockstar.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Hell yeah! Bottle in one hand, chick in the other. Too high to feel anything. Too high to know you’re dying. If you're gonna die, you may as well do it shitfaced!

VOLITION - Shut up!

YOU - The hallway falls silent for a moment. For the first time today, you can't hear anything. As brief as it is, your mind is silent. Then, the sound of your breathing, rapid and frightened, drags you back to the world.

VOLITION - You can't run outside right now. Fine, what can we do instead?

1. Cry?
2. Go back to my apartment? 

• Sit down?

1. Kill myself?

YOU - That's it?

VOLITION - That's it.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - As your ass touches the steps, the stairs feel firm. Solid. It grounds you, as if the complex itself is trying to calm you down.

HALF LIGHT - Heart like a jackhammer…

INTERFACING - Hands that couldn't hold a cup without dropping it.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - A cigarette would really calm your nerves right now.

LOGIC - Nothing in that apartment was going to kill you. A moldy sandwich should not be making you panic like this.

VOLITION - Just breathe.

1. [COMPOSURE: LEGENDARY] Just. Breathe.

+1: Out of your apartment.

+1: Sitting down.

1. [ENDURANCE: HEROIC] Get some fresh air.

-3: Leg still hurts.

-1: Dropped your cane.

1. You know, a little panic attack sounds like it would be really cathartic right now.

SUCCESS

COMPOSURE [Legendary: Success] - Okay. Alright. Here's the verdict: The moldy sandwich isn't that big of a deal.

YOU - It isn't?

COMPOSURE - No. It's still a little gross. It's still very sad. But it isn't a big deal.

VOLITION - You weren't able to throw it out all those months ago, but you can do it now. 

VOLITION - You're going to be fine.

+1 MORALE

COMPOSURE - Slowly but surely, your heart starts to fall back into your chest. Your hands don't tremble quite as hard, and you feel like you'll be able to stand up without falling over.

SHIVERS - The world is stable once again.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Are those footsteps?

KIM KITSURAGI - Turning around, you spot the lieutenant walking towards you. Small plastic bag in hand, and a gentle expression on his face.

PAIN THRESHOLD - And your cane!

EMPATHY - He wasn't sure what to do when you stumbled out of there like that. He wants to make sure you're alright.

KIM KITSURAGI - Also, judging by the keys in his hands, and the sweat beginning to form on his brow, he's about ready to go too.

COMPOSURE - Good. You weren't ready to go back in.

KIM KITSURAGI - He sits down beside you with a soft grunt. “Are you alright?”

AUTHORITY - Straight to the point. He really doesn't pull his punches.

• “Kim, I'm reaching levels of alright never seen before. I’m thriving. I’m disco.”

1. “God, I’m sorry Kim. I didn’t think it would be such a shitshow in there.”
2. “I think I’m gonna die if I ever have to go in there again.”
3. “I should’ve stayed in Martinaise.”

SAVOIR FAIRE - The fatal finger guns you shoot into his chest prove it.

EMPATHY - Your hands are still shaking. You aren't disco, and he knows it.

KIM KITSURAGI - Still, he indulges you. “Glad to hear it. It wasn't easy to approach…” A gentle smile crosses his face, just for a moment. “...but you got it done.”

ESPRIT DE CORPS - You didn't “get it done.” You fled your apartment in a panic, and left him to deal with your mess.

• “I'm sorry I ran out on you, that was kind of a dick move.”

1. “How bad is it?”
2. “So, what should I do now?”

KIM KITSURAGI - “It's fine. Like I said, it wasn't easy to approach. It's your home, it's understandable.”

DRAMA - The truth, sire. He doesn’t mind.

EMPATHY - If anything, he feels a bit awkward he didn't check in on you sooner. It's a difficult task for him, finding the right words to comfort someone.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - I guess it really is as bad as Jean said it was.

SUGGESTION [Challenging: Failure] - Maybe…

1. “I'm sorry I ran out on you, that was kind of a dick move.”

• “How bad is it?”

1. “So, what should I do now?”

KIM KITSURAGI - “It's bad.” He admits. “But nothing either of us haven't seen before. It'll take some time to clean it, but this isn't an impossible task by any means.”

SUGGESTION - He's being vague. Push him for more details.

INLAND EMPIRE - Have you learned nothing? Maybe there are reasons why Kim doesn't tell you everything? Knowledge isn't always power.

• [SUGGESTION: EASY] Give me all the details!

1. You're right, I love being unaware!

SUCCESS

YOU - “You're being a little vague, Kim. What should I prepare for when I start cleaning it?” You ask, a slight smile crossing your face. “C'mon, I can take it.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “I know that.”

DRAMA - But he was a little worried.

KIM KITSURAGI - The sound of a zipper as he pulls out his notebook. This is his element. Making a list, and then executing that list. He enjoys it, in a way. No detective can resist the allure of a numbered list. “I think I managed to confiscate all the obvious substances laying around.” He shakes the small bag in his other hand. “Though it's possible some of this is medication.”

YOU - “Okay. What else?”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Our first step would be to get all the trash out, so we can actually search through your apartment.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Heroic: Failure] - Search? Search for what? That home is a biohazard. You'd be better off burning it, both of you.

YOU - “I think it'd be easier to just burn it down at this point. It's kind of a dump in there.”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant shakes his head. “No, not really. There's some valuable stuff in there.” He shrugs. “Sentimental stuff, probably. By the way…”

SAVOIR FAIRE - Woah! Five réal in his hand!

KIM KITSURAGI - “For you. I found it in your bedroom.” He smiles.

YOU - “Score!”

VOLITION - See? It wasn't all bad.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Yeah! You can buy a pack of Red Astras with this!

REACTION SPEED - Wait... your room!

YOU - “Oh my god, my room! I completely forgot, did it look…?”

PAIN THRESHOLD - Like a disaster? Like the scene of an overdose? Like a habitat of filth and decay? You aren't sure what you were going to say. None of the things you want to say sound particularly flattering.

VOLITION - Or kind, for that matter.

COMPOSURE - The sandwich rattled you pretty bad. For a minute, your home was nothing more than a fridge and empty space.

KIM KITSURAGI - He pauses, shoulders tensing up before relaxing. “Similar to the rest of the apartment. I didn't snoop too hard, it felt invasive.”

RHETORIC - Interesting. Similar to the rest of the apartment, and yet the bedroom felt more invasive. Why? He’s stayed at your room in the Whirling before.

KIM KITSURAGI - “I think we may have to replace your mattress.” Blunt and sudden. It catches you off guard.

YOU - “How come?”

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Rip the bandage off, he thinks. He can handle it.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Detective, your apartment has a serious infestation of roaches.”

COMPOSURE [Godly: Failure] - Roaches!? 

PERCEPTION (AUDITORY) - Yes, you heard him right. Roaches.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Why are you surprised? You knew this.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Besides, don't you like insects? You liked the phasmid!

EMPATHY - You loved the phasmid. And it loved you back.

SHIVERS - All the insects of Revachol do. Every roach, every grasshopper, every phasmid. They're all rooting for you, Harry.

COMPOSURE - Still…

YOU - “Ew.”

KIM KITSURAGI - He nods. “Yeah, it's pretty ew. I know a guy, it'll be fine.”

VOLITION - He wasn't sure you’d take it well. He's glad you did.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Other than that, it's standard procedure. Throw out the trash, find the valuables, clean everything, replace whatever was lost…” He trails off, as if the stages of deep cleaning an apartment is obvious.

1. “I'm sorry I ran out on you, that was kind of a dick move.”
2. “How bad is it?”

• “So, what should I do now?”

KIM KITSURAGI - He blinks in confusion. “What do you mean?”

YOU - “I still need to find somewhere to sleep tonight.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Uh.”

YOU - “Do you think Jean was serious when he suggested the cell idea?”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Probably not, officer.”

YOU - “I guess I could stay in Martinaise for a few more days. Isobel might not mind.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Hm.”

YOU - “Or, if she does, there's always the Whirling. I know you said Garte probably wouldn't want me as a tenant, you know, with all the drinking and dying.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “I didn't say that.”

COMPOSURE - He's surprised. He didn't say that, remember?

YOU - “But maybe I could squeeze by?”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Detective.” His voice is a little louder than he intended. Clearing his throat, he continues. “I have a suggestion.”

SUGGESTION - Oh? Do tell!

YOU - “Yeah?”

KIM KITSURAGI - “If you're comfortable, I wouldn't mind having you stay at my place for a little.”

REACTION SPEED [Heroic: Failure] - Huh?

INLAND EMPIRE - What.

COMPOSURE - The.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - FUCK YES!!!

YOU - For a moment, you are genuinely at a loss for words. You sit there, mouth half open, making bizarre sounds as you try to articulate a single comprehensible thought.

YOU - After a few seconds of stumbling, you manage to get something out. “Oh, Kim. Kim, no, I couldn't- I wouldn’t…”

RHETORIC - But as soon as you find the words, you lose them, trailing off as you stare at him.

EMPATHY - It’s almost imperceptible, but you can tell he's smiling.

KIM KITSURAGI - He plays it off with a shrug. “Why not? I'm offering.”

SUGGESTION - That's true. He is, in fact, offering.

YOU - “Don’t you have, uh, work? At Precinct 57?”

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Or Precinct 41, depending on how things go.

DRAMA - You really hope he wasn’t just saying that to get you off his back.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Yes, Precinct 57. My precinct. That I'm currently on medical leave from. Because of my injuries.”

VOLITION - He isn't showing it, but he'd be happy if you accepted.

YOU - Why? Why would he want me in his home? After all the damage I did to mine?

EMPATHY [Godly: Failure] - You don't know. It's hard to tell why he isn't letting this go.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Who cares!? Accept already!

YOU - “There's still time to change your mind.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “ Officer. ”

AUTHORITY - He is getting a little tired of this back and forth. Accept or deny already.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Accept, accept, accept!

• “I'll take the couch.” (OPT IN)

1. “I can't, Kim. I'm sorry, I can't.” (OPT OUT)

KIM KITSURAGI - “Great. I'm glad we got this sorted out.” He stands up, back cracking as he does so. You grasp your cane, and look down the flight of stairs.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant smiles at you. “After you.”

Chapter Text

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - The climb down the stairs is sluggish, the both of you (mostly you, however) exhausted by the ascent up, as well as the adventure that followed. Even with the cane, your knee aches and groans in pain as you descend to the streets of Jamrock.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - You were right about the sky earlier. Thousands of tiny droplets of water rain down upon you and your partner, the sound of thunder ringing out in the distance. The chalk casing the sidewalk has begun to wash away in the storm, leaving behind a trail of pastel colors.

YOU - That's a shame, I really liked it. The girl who drew it must be dissapointed.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, the downpour will stop eventually, and she'll do it all over again, like she's done so many times before.

YOU - Just to watch it fade away? Again and again?

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - Of course. Chalk isn't meant to stay on the sidewalk forever.

• That's depressing. Doesn't she get tired of it? Watching all her hard work vanish?

1. Hey, maybe I should draw something!
2. Is Kim staring at me?

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - A little, yes. There are days where she wishes for nothing but sun.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - But the rain also serves as a new canvas. A fresh start.

VOLITION - A chance for an even greater mural?

SHIVERS [Trivial: Success] - In Martinaise, no more than a dozen or so kilometers from where you and the lieutenant stand, a large, formerly vacant wall towers on. The bright red mural in stark contrast to the dreary storm that surrounds it. The moss, mold, and thick layer of grime covering the surface are impartial to your work of art.

SHIVERS - A young woman with clothes too big for her stands beside a painfully young student. He's trying, and failing, to conceal a smile. A crash of thunder drowns out their conversation.

YOU - What are they talking about?

SHIVERS - “Remember the Kras Mazov wannabe I sent to your little book club?” She asks, short boyish hair drenched from the downpour. Her hands stay hidden in her jacket as she tries to protect herself from the cold.

The man shakes his head, “How could I possibly forget? He painted this, I assume?”

SHIVERS - She nods, a slight smile crossing her face. “Sure did.” A stray gust of wind blows the young man's hair. “Crazy fucking pig…”

AUTHORITY - Your mural will be a piece of Martinaise forever.

VISUAL CALCULUS - Maybe not forever, but for a few decades at least.

SHIVERS - Now all of Martinaise knows that something beautiful will happen.

1. That's depressing. Doesn't she get tired of it? Watching all her hard work vanish?

• Hey, maybe I should draw something!

1. Is Kim staring at me?

CONCEPTUALIZATION - You should definitely draw something! Harry, look around you. What do you notice about this street?

1. It's a half hour walk from Precinct 41?
2. There's a liquor store worryingly close?
3. It smells like something died out here?

• Okay, I'm fairly certain it's none of these. You can just tell me.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - All of those are technically correct.

PERCEPTION (SCENT) - Especially the third one. Your nose isn't very happy with how long you've been standing here, taking in the rotting corpse-like smell.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - But that isn't the point. This street is boring. It's plain, it's dull, it's bland, it smells vaguely like a skunk vomited. It needs you to liven it up!

YOU - Yeah, It really does! But what do I draw?

CONCEPTUALIZATION - That's the question. There are so many things you could draw, it makes it almost impossible to choose.

INLAND EMPIRE - A number of things come to mind. You could paint that Phoenix idea you had in Martinaise, but despite your suggestion, you don't really believe you could do it justice. It was mostly just to get Cindy to hand over the brush. Maybe you could redraw the little girl's drawing of the cat and the bird? Though that may be considered stealing. Painting Kim is another option, though you're fairly certain he wouldn't want his face on display for all of Jamrock to see.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - He wouldn't.

YOU - So, I don't really have any ideas.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - But you do! You should draw the phasmid!

INLAND EMPIRE - The phasmid! Of course! It's perfect.

SHIVERS [Impossible: Failure] - The phasmid could be anywhere. It could be kilometers away from Martinaise, kilometers away from Jamrock, from you.

SHIVERS [Challenging: Success] - But it wants you to do this.

YOU - The mural?

SHIVERS - To move on from the ruins.

THE DECAYING REMAINS OF AN APARTMENT - The distant sound of thunder brings you back to the present. It won't be letting up anytime soon.

1. That's depressing. Doesn't she get tired of it? Watching all her hard work vanish?
2. Hey, maybe I should draw something!

• Is Kim staring at me?

KIM KITSURAGI - He is. He's been staring at you for the past few minutes.

1. “Something wrong?”
2. “Like what you see?”

• “Wait, ignore the first option, I know what's wrong. I was zoning out again, wasn't I?”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant doesn't even blink at the mention of a “first option.” It's just another thing about your brain, something he's made peace with never fully understanding.

LOGIC [Heroic: Failure] - She didn't understand your brain. Didn't understand us. He could be thinking the very same things she did.

KIM KITSURAGI - “You were, yes.” He glances at the dizzying array of colors. “Have you deduced anything from the river of wet chalk, detective?”

AUTHORITY - Is he teasing you!? Put him in his place!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Your chest tightens, though it isn't filled with the same panic it was in the apartment.

• “I think I need to paint a mural here.” (OPT IN)

1. “It's nothing, don’t worry about it.” (OPT OUT)

TASK GAINED: DRAW THE MURAL

KIM KITSURAGI - He blinks. “Yes.” Then he begins to consider it. “Well, no, actually. You probably shouldn't paint here.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION - You know what? The other guy was onto something! Tell him off!

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - Wait! He didn't finish!

KIM KITSURAGI - “It's technically vandalization, painting on public property.” A pause. “Graffiti, in a sense.”

SAVOIR FAIRE - You're a punk now. A real bad boy.

YOU - “Nobody had a problem with it in Martinaise.”

KIM KITSURAGI -  He shrugs. “We were the only officers around. It wasn't like I was going to arrest you for painting.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “What were you thinking of drawing anyways?”

DRAMA - You must tell him! His thirst for knowledge is imperative!

YOU - “The Insulindian Phasmid.”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - He doesn't even bother trying to contain his smile. That's just the sort of response the phasmid brings.

KIM KITSURAGI - He reaches for his notebook as his eyes shine. “That's a great idea.”

INTERFACING - Neither of you are on the clock. What could he possibly be writing?

KIM KITSURAGI - He pulls his jacket a little closer. “Now, we should get out of the storm before we're both soaked. Unless there was something else…?”

COUPRIS KINEEMA - Nothing important comes to mind. You both step into the shelter of the Kineema as Kim blasts the heat.

COUPRIS KINEEMA - The drive to the lieutenant's apartment is ultimately brief. It's about fifteen minutes, maybe a little more with the rain. You don't immediately recognize this part of the city.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Heroic: Failure] - It could be the memory loss, or it could be the fact that this is just a little outside of Precinct 41.

SHIVERS - There are things of note though. There always are. Two women in bright yellow uniform take a smoke break outside of a rundown Frittte. A child sprinting down the street, tearing down posters for their missing dog, drenched from the rain. Two people you can just barely spot in an alleyway. Maybe teenagers, maybe drunks, perhaps even both.

DIRTY RED COMPLEX - Eventually, the lieutenant stops in front of a dull, red apartment complex. There's a set of perrons outside, leading up to what looks to be four stories, judging by the windows.

PAIN THRESHOLD - What are the chances that Kim's elevator is broken as well, hm?

RHETORIC - Low. Besides, if he knew it was, he would've mentioned it by now. Given you time you prepare for another four flights of torture.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Psh! Do you hear this guy? “Torture.” There's nothing tortuous about a good old fashioned workout.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Khm.” The lieutenant draws you back to him, as his hand hovers above the ignition. “Ready to head inside?”

KIM KITSURAGI - The Kineema is silent for a moment, until the lieutenant seemingly realizes something. “Oh, getting up there shouldn’t be an issue, if you were worried. The elevator was working the last time I checked.” The car falls silent again. “Which was yesterday.”

RHETORIC - See? I told you.

COMPOSURE - Is something wrong with the lieutenant?

YOU - Is there? He looks alright to me.

COMPOSURE - It's hard to say. He just seems different, that's all. He isn't showing it on his face, but the way he's been so quiet on the ride over, and the way he can't seem to let a comfortable silence sit…

EMPATHY [Challenging: Success] - He's nervous.

YOU - Wait, really?

EMPATHY - Just a little, but yes. It's been a long time since he's let someone into his home. It's a very vulnerable thing to do, in a way. Letting you see all of him.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - If it were anyone else, he might have talked himself out of it. But it's you.

YOU - So, why do I get apartment privilege?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Who cares! Aren't you excited to see what Kim's home looks like? Who knows what secrets are hiding in there.

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - Whatever you do, don't ridicule him. You've come this far without being needlessly cruel.

KIM KITSURAGI - The man sitting beside you clears his throat again. “Detective?”

• “Thank you for doing this, Kim.”

1. “There's still time to back out, you know?”
2. “Ready whenever you are.” (PROCEED)

KIM KITSURAGI - “You really don't have to keep thanking me. Anyone else would've done the same.”

SAVOIR FAIRE - He's trying to play it off, but he knows he's wrong. In fact, most people wouldn't let you within 20 meters of their home.

KIM KITSURAGI - He shrugs. “But, you're welcome.”

1. “Thank you for doing this, Kim.”
2. “There's still time to back out, you know?”

• “Ready whenever you are.” (PROCEED)

VOLITION - Good on you for not saying the second one. I know you wanted too.

SUGGESTION - Kim wouldn't have liked hearing it. That's all there is to it.

DIMLY LIT BUILDING - There's little to note as you both enter the building. The small space is poorly lit, as though one of the light bulbs has been dead for some time. A baby sobs in a nearby room, just as someone turns up the radio.

DRAMA - He wasn't lying! The elevator truly does work, sire!

ANCIENT LOOKING ELEVATOR - Yes. There's no note on the elevator this time, though it doesn't look like it's in the best of shape.

HALF LIGHT - What are the chances of this elevator crashing? Better question, how long would you be in the hospital if it did?

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant presses a button, waiting expectantly as the elevator makes its way down.

PERCEPTION (AUDITORY) - Ooh. Hm. Those noises don’t sound…

HALF LIGHT - Safe, do they? Is this building even up to code?

SAVOIR FAIRE - You should sue! File a massive lawsuit, win a shit ton of money!

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - It likely isn't up to code, but the elevator in the Whirling definitely wasn't either. You've ridden worse, for much, much longer. This elevator will not crash on you.

KIM KITSURAGI - The elevator comes to a slow, noisy stop as the lieutenant steps inside, holding his foot against the door. You make your way inside as Kim pushes the button for the second floor.

VISUAL CALCULUS - See? It's only the second floor. If it fell, you'd only be in the hospital for a month.

DIMLY LIT HALLWAY - With a dull ding, the elevator comes to a lagging, creaky stop. A brief walk down yet another poorly lit hallway later, and the lieutenant comes to a stop at what must be his apartment.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Apartment 204. Noted.

COMPOSURE - There's no room for hesitation in the lieutenant's movement as he unlocks the door. Some lingering nerves, yes, but no indecision.

EMPATHY [Legendary: Success] - It's just my apartment , he thinks, a hint of annoyance flaring through him. This shouldn’t be making me so…

VOLITION - You can emphasize with the feeling.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Don't try and comfort him. To admit something is to make it manifest. To make it real. It would just make him uncomfortable.

• But he comforted me about my apartment? Wouldn't that make me kind of an asshole?

1. [EMPATHY: GODLY] Maybe he should feel uncomfortable.
2. I've been thinking about this for way too long. Maybe I should stop thinking, and just let him open the door?

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Not at all, son. In fact, this is one of the highest honors you could possibly give a man.

YOU - And what is this?

COMPOSURE - Room to get your shit together, and act like nobody saw you. To carefully conceal any and every crack before someone can beat you down for them.

ENDURANCE - It's no way to live, but he's only looking to survive, and this is how he's done it for years.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Far, far too late for him to stop now.

1. But he comforted me about my apartment? Wouldn't that make me kind of an asshole?

• [EMPATHY: GODLY] Maybe he should feel uncomfortable.

1. I've been thinking about this for way too long. Maybe I should stop thinking, and just let him open the door?

FAILURE

EMPATHY [Godly: Failure] - What? Why would you want Kim to feel uncomfortable? What is wrong with you?

YOU - You move to gently place your hand on Kim's shoulder, like he's done so many times before. You barely make it through the first word before the lieutenant swiftly unlocks and opens the door in front of him. It gently swings open, revealing a dark, odorless apartment.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Oh, thank God.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Impossible: Failure] - Don't do that again.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant turns, completely missing your internal conversation. “Did you say something?”

PAIN THRESHOLD - Don't.

VOLITION - Do.

1. [EMPATHY: GODLY] Make the lieutenant uncomfortable.

• “Nothing. Should we head in?” (PROCEED)

VOLITION - Harry… 

KIM KITSURAGI - He hums, nodding as he steps inside and flicks a switch. Suddenly, the room is flooded with light.

VISUAL CALCULUS - There's a lot to take note of. Almost too much. An uncomfortable looking green, leather coach. A bookshelf stacked to the brim, seemingly moments away from falling apart. A small, carefully curated collection of slightly wilted potted plants under the lieutenant's kitchen window. You want nothing more than to drop everything and investigate every inch of the lieutenant's home, can opener style.

SUGGESTION - That would probably be a weird thing to do though. Investigate it normal style, please.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Don't mind the mess. I was a bit busy with the report last night.” He sets his notebook on a small, circular table in his dining room. “Bathroom is to the right, if you wanna take a shower.”

PERCEPTION (SCENT) - That might be a good idea. You smell like a corpse.

KIM KITSURAGI - He blinks, as if suddenly remembering something. “You may want to take a look at that report, actually. If you remembered something I missed.”

ENDURANCE - He's kept it together pretty well, but the way he runs his hand through his hair. He's tired. It's been a very long week.

VOLITION - You've earned a rest. Both of you.

HALF LIGHT - God, he looks so stiff…

COMPOSURE - You should ask him something about his apartment! You know, break the ice!

ESPRIT DE CORPS - I think we already broke the ice when we admitted we couldn't remember money.

EMPATHY - If it would make him less tense, the small collection of aerostatic plane models seems like a good conversation starter.

PERCEPTION (VISUAL) - Or the collection of albums in that shelf over there.

SAVOIR FAIRE - And those must be the helium headlights he mentioned!

• “You should've told me you collected models.”

1. “Have they played any of those on Speedfreaks?”
2. “Still up to installing those headlights?”
3. On second thought, maybe I should just take a shower. I really do reek.

KIM KITSURAGI - He instantly realizes what you're referring to. “Ah, yes, well… I wouldn't say I collect them, it's just a little thing I like to do whenever I have the time. Which has been less and less lately, but, still.”

YOU - “I think I saw some at Bird's Nest Roy's. I would've gotten one for you if I knew.”

KIM KITSURAGI - A small smile appears on his face. “I don't think that would have been a wise financial decision.”

EMPATHY - But still, he appreciates the thought.

LITTLE RED AEROPLANE - You pick up one of the models and hold it in the palm of your hand. This is sturdy material, and yet it feels exceedingly fragile. As though if you clutched it too hard, it would crumble into a million pieces.

PERCEPTION (VISUAL) [Formidable: Success] - Looking closer, you can spot little chips of paint where they shouldn't be. Red wings dripping down the hull of the ship.

DRAMA - Could it be?

• “Kim, do you hand paint these?”

1. Okay, now I should really take a shower.

KIM KITSURAGI - His ears turn the slightest hint of red as he realizes what you must be talking about. A symptom of his hyperopia. “I do. Or- did anyways.” He adjusts his glasses. “It was always a bit of a hassle.”

INTERFACING - He enjoyed it though. Painting. The feeling of holding a brush in his hand.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Creating.

YOU - “Maybe you should take it up again? It sounds like it was fun, and these aren't half bad.”

KIM KITSURAGI - He smiles. “Maybe.”

DRAMA - “Maybe” meaning no.

VOLITION - You don't have to ask him everything now. This isn't an interrogation, he'll still be here when you get out of the shower.

PERCEPTION (SCENT) - Please.

AUTHORITY - Nonsense! You’re on a roll, why not keep it going? Open him up!

1. “You should've told me you collected models.”
2. “Have they played any of those on Speedfreaks?”
3. “Still up to installing those headlights?”

• On second thought, maybe I should just take a shower. I really do reek.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant doesn't outright show it, but you can tell he agrees. You haven't thought to take a shower since you stuck your hand into The Hanged Man. Your body has been composed of nothing but blood, sweat, and tears for about a week. It's hard to not feel a little disgusting at the realization.

VOLITION [Medium: Success] - All it means is that the shower is going to feel incredible.

PAIN THRESHOLD - With proper precaution around your fresh stitching, of course.

BALMY BATHROOM - The door locks with a soft click as you enter the lieutenant's bathroom. It's nice. Small, but pleasant. Certainly better than yours must be. There's a soft, light yellow mat leading up to the bathtub, rusty pipes connecting to a small sink, and a squeaky clean mirror.

MIRROR - A pale face stares back at you. Your hair is oily, messy, and in desperate need of a wash. None of the disco fire you were still clinging onto in Martinaise is present in you now. All you can see now is a very, very tired old man.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - I know something that could help with that!

BALMY BATHROOM - A small tray hangs from inside the bathtub. It's filled with half dried washcloths, a bar of soap, a bottle of shampoo, alongside its trusty friend conditioner, and a razor. It calls for you, tempting you with the promise of warmth and comfort.

YOU - Only one thing left to do then.

ENDURANCE [Challenging: Success] - While you wait for the water to heat up, you gently unwrap the bandages around your fresh stitching, only wincing a little as you do so. Discarding it in the trash, you quickly prepare a new set of bandaging for when you get out of the water.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - They're healing well. No signs of infection, no angry red skin.

BALMY BATHROOM - The shower is relatively routine. The water running is lukewarm as you take great care not to get any shampoo, or soap too close to your wound.

PERCEPTION (SCENT) - The lieutenant's soap is the standard, pleasant smell of honey and lavender.  A classic. You suddenly wonder what his taste in candles might be.

SUGGESTION - Hey! You should see about getting some of this for your own apartment!

COMPOSURE - Later. Just relax for now.

VOLITION - Massaging the shampoo through your wet hair, washing your face with the lieutenant's soap, it's the first time in days you've felt this put together. You can't help but feel a profound sense of peace as you listen to the water run.

+1 MORALE

BALMY BATHROOM - Maybe a few minutes later, perhaps an eternity, you step out into the lieutenant's bathroom once again. Water drips off your body onto the tiled floor. The mirror is coated in a thin sheet of steam despite the low temperature.

LOGIC - Any amount of heat turns this tiny room into a sauna. It can't be helped.

ENDURANCE - Wrapping the wound is almost the exact same as unwrapping it. You gently dry yourself off, apply the dressing, and bandage your thigh once again.

PAIN THRESHOLD - This will be your routine for the next two or so weeks. You'll get used to it.

LOGIC [Easy: Failure] - Hm.

YOU - “Hm” doesn't sound good. What now?

LOGIC - It looks like you forgot to bring a spare change of clothes.

YOU - Really? I remembered the post-op stuff but I forgot to bring pants?

SUGGESTION - Really. Kim might have something that could fit you.

RHETORIC - Unlikely, but it’s worth a shot.

YOU - Do I have to ask him? He's already done so much. Couldn't I just change back into my old clothes?

VOLITION - After a warm, refreshing shower? No. At least ask first.

KIM KITSURAGI - You poke your head out of the bathroom door (with a towel, of course), and look into the lieutenant's empty living room. The sound of footsteps in the kitchen alerts you to your partner's presence.

AUTHORITY - This is unbecoming of an officer. Begging for clothes. Pathetic, really. Maybe you should just put the old pair back on.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - You aren't on the clock right now. This type of behavior isn't becoming of a lieutenant, but it is extremely becoming of Harrier Du Bois.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Well, it doesn't have to be, now does it?

YOU - “Kim? Is that you?”

KIM KITSURAGI - The apartment is silent for a moment, before the lieutenant calls back. “Who else would I be, officer?”

PERCEPTION (AUDITORY) - Silence again, as a utensil clatters against the kitchen counter.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Oh, right. Salami and cheese, or peanut butter and jelly?”

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - He's asking about preferences. Most likely which one you prefer on a sandwich.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Formidable: Failure] - Uh…

ENCYCLOPEDIA - It seems your knowledge in food preferences was also lost during your bender.

HALF LIGHT - Just say something! You've been silent for too long, and you're starting to drip water onto the lieutenant's floor!

YOU - “...Both.”

ESPRIT DE CORPS - The lieutenant is silent as he spreads peanut butter and jelly between a slice of bread, before slapping some salami and cheese atop it. Why not , he thinks. He's done weirder.

KIM KITSURAGI - He eventually makes his way to the bathroom door, salami sandwich in hand. His eyes widen ever so slightly as he sees you hanging in the hallway, before realizing the situation. “Ah.”

REACTION SPEED - He almost dropped his delicious sandwich!

1. “I forgot my pants.”

• “Did you make sandwiches?”

KIM KITSURAGI - “I did.” He pauses to consider something, before smiling. “I don't know what a… peanut butter and jelly salami cheese sandwich will taste like, but you have my sympathy.”

DRAMA - He's teasing you. You don't have his sympathy, for you've brought this on yourself, sire.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Anyways, what the fuck is up with those topping choices?

LOGIC - They aren’t exactly the default setting on a sandwich.

YOU - “Why were you making peanut butter and jelly salami cheese sandwiches anyways?”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Because it's almost 5, and it's the only thing I had in my fridge.” You can hear a soft crunch as he takes another bite. “And because salami is good.”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - It looks very, very tasty, the way the lieutenant eats it. You could really go for a peanut butter and jelly salami cheese sandwich right about now.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - You have to find a better name for this monstrosity. We can't keep calling it by its full title.

• [CONCEPTUALIZATION: TRIVIAL] Find a better name for the peanut butter and jelly salami sandwich.

1. Okay, maybe later? I'm kind of in the middle of a conversation with Kim.
2. Hey, I like its full name!

FAILURE

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Trivial: Failure] - How about a… uh… Peanelly Sleeze sandwich?

YOU - That sounds vile.

RHETORIC - That sounds like something that would give you food poisoning.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - That sounds like it's for us!

ENCYCLOPEDIA - You know what? Sure. It works. Let's have a Peanelly Sleeze sandwich.

SUGGESTION - Kim first though.

KIM KITSURAGI - “But I imagine that isn't the issue right now?”

INTERFACING - Oh, right. You're naked.

COMPOSURE - YOU HAVE A TOWEL.

• “I forgot my pants.”

1. “Did you make sandwiches?”

KIM KITSURAGI - Wordlessly, the lieutenant opens the door to his bedroom, and walks inside. You can hear the sound of drawers opening and closing, and the rustling of fabric.

KIM KITSURAGI - A minute or three later, he returns with a small bundle of clothes in his hands. “Won't be a perfect fit, but it's the best I've got.”

REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] - Catch!

• [HAND/EYE COORDINATION: MEDIUM] Catch it!

1. Don’t even bother. Just let them fall on the wet floor.

SUCCESS

HAND/EYE COORDINATION [Medium: Success] - The bundle of clothes feel secure in your arms as you hold them. It's hard to immediately tell what they look like, but they feel comfortable.

BALMY BATHROOM - You give the lieutenant an energetic thumbs up as thanks. Admittedly, the clothes aren't a perfect fit. They're a little tight, and you find yourself wishing you had something a little more flexible, but they'll do.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Legendary: Success] - A black t-shirt detailing common birds found in Insulinde. It includes the Rose Beaked Hawk, a bird of prey native to the Revachol area. It barely fits you, but it would be just a tad too big on the lieutenant.

YOU - And the pants?

CONCEPTUALIZATION - The pants are unremarkable. Red plaid pajamas that are just a little too tight on you. They go just above your ankles.

APARTMENT 204 - You step out into the makeshift dining room set up in the kitchen. The lieutenant is sitting at a small, circular table, salami and cheese sandwich in hand, turning when he hears your footsteps. His notebook is flipped open to a page with quite a bit of writing on it.

KIT KITSURAGI - “Oh, good. They fit better than I thought they would.”

THE PEANELLY SLEEZE SANDWICH - The promised meal sits on the table, just next to the lieutenant's notebook. The smell of jelly is overwhelming compared to the deli meat.

PERCEPTION (TASTE) [Formidable: Failure] - Salami tastes good, jelly and peanut butter taste good… What's the worst that could happen?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - That's the spirit! Maybe Peanelly Sleeze sandwiches are your thing! Perhaps you've secretly enjoyed sleeze sandwiches all along, and were acting on pure instinct when he asked. Anything is possible.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Somehow, I doubt that, but it's only food. What's the worst that could happen?

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant is staring at you staring at the sandwich, the hint of a smile in his eyes.

AUTHORITY - He expects you to back down from this challenge. He thinks you'll chuck this abomination into the trash can. Are you going to prove him right?

1. Yes. 100%

• Never!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - It's good! Maybe! Probably!

KIM KITSURAGI - “Detective?”

AUTHORITY - That's right! Hit him where he least expects it! Unhinge your jaw like a snake and show him who's boss!

• [ELECTROCHEMISTRY: FORMIDABLE] Tear into the Peanelly Sleeze sandwich.

1. This is going to end horribly, isn’t it?

FAILURE

PERCEPTION (TASTE) - Do you remember what I said before? About peanut butter and salami both tasting good?

1. Yeah, about 12 seconds ago. Why?
2. And? Does it?

• Let me guess, it tastes vile.

PERCEPTION (TASTE) - Yes.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Formidable: Failure] - You never knew two toppings that taste so good separated could be so horrible together. The texture, the taste, the smell, all coming together to create something awful.

AUTHORITY - Atta boy! Show him who's boss!

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenants faces away as your expression quickly turns to that of disgust.

EMPATHY - He's trying, and failing, to hide a laugh.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Challenging: Success] - It's like he said, you're full of surprises. Some of them are bad, but some of them bring moments like this. He enjoys that about you.

KIM KITSURAGI - He doesn't even bother trying to hide his smile as he turns back to face you. “How does it taste?”

1. [ENDURANCE: LEGENDARY] Look him dead in the eye and take another bite.

-1: It tastes truly terrible.

• “Great! Want some?” (Lie)

1. “I don't think I like Peanelly Sleeze sandwiches, Kim.”

ENDURANCE - Coward.

KIM KITSURAGI - He takes another bite of his incredibly normal (boring) salami sandwich. “Oh, I'll pass detective, thanks.”

ESPRIT DE CORPS - You absentmindedly sneak a glance at the lieutenant's notebook as you set your sandwich down. Most of it is illegible, but you can make out a few words here and there.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Garbage bags, sponges, bleach, insecticide, baking soda, rubber gloves… These are all words you recognize. They're cleaning supplies.

COMPOSURE [Heroic: Failure] - You feel your heart skip a beat as you continue looking at the lengthy list the lieutenant has written.

VISUAL CALCULUS - This definitely isn't for him. Just look around, do you really think Kim needs any help maintaining this place?

YOU - Then, is it…?

LOGIC [Formidable: Success] - For you? Yes, it seems so. Kim's apartment is crystal clean. It doesn't look like he would need most, if any of these.

EMPATHY [Godly: Failure] - He does too much for you.

YOU - “Kim, is this…?”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant looks up to see what you're referring to, swallowing another bite before he answers. “I was hoping we'd be able to get this done later today, if you're feeling up for another adventure?”

KIM KITSURAGI - Your look of sheer emotion and confusion must make the lieutenant a little uneasy. He quickly clarifies. “For your apartment? To clean it?”

VOLITION [Godly: Failure] - You can feel tears beginning to well up in your eyes. The idea that someone would willingly spend this much time trying to get you back on your feet is astonishing. Even something as simple as a grocery list is enough to put a lump in your throat.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Khm.” The lieutenant looks a little worried now. “Detective?”

• [COMPOSURE: GODLY] Be normal about this.

-1: Drove you home.

-1: Drove you to his home.

-1: Made lunch.

-1: Gave you spare clothes.

-1: He's Kim.

1. Why not skip to the inevitable? Just break down into tears now!

FAILURE

COMPOSURE [Godly: Failure] - All of this effort, all the time and energy he should spend recovering, and he's using it to focus on… you? Of all people?

VOLITION - Don't say that.

RHETORIC - But it's true. This is a tremendous amount of trouble to go through for a man you met a little over a week ago.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - For a detective who partied so hard, that for one fleeting moment, he was just another drunk trying to kill themselves.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - This is far beyond the lieutenant's sense of duty. He's doing this because he wants to, not because you're his brother in arms.

YOU - But I don't deserve this. 

EMPATHY [Heroic: Success] - He disagrees, clearly. Despite everything, the lieutenant cares very deeply about you.

RHETORIC - Really?

EMPATHY - Yes, really. It's obvious, actually. People don't go through this much effort for people they don't like.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Or leave their relatively stable Precinct for one that seems to have been torn apart by you.

YOU - So, just to be clear: he isn't doing this because he feels like he has too, or because I'm a higher ranking officer, or something else?

EMPATHY - No. He sincerely cares about you. He wants you to succeed.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - You can. For him.

VOLITION [Impossible: Failure] - You will. You must.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Harry?”

APARTMENT 406 - You suddenly realize you've been sitting completely still, staring at Kim for at least six seconds.

YOU - “I'm so happy I met you.”

REACTION SPEED - The words spill out of you faster than you can react. There's no chance of stopping them now, the floodgates have opened.

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - The lieutenant freezes up almost as soon as the words come out of your mouth. It's obvious he wasn't expecting this topic.

YOU - “And I'm not just saying that because you're helping me right now, or because you made this list.”

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Gesturing towards the notebook to prove your point. Good.

YOU - “I am, but- fuck, Kim, I don't know what I would've done in Martinaise if you weren't here. I don't know what I would have done now. ”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Detective.”

YOU - “You've done so much, even though you don't have to, even though I'm too broke to ever repay it.”

KIM KITSURAGI - He wants to interrupt, but he doesn't see a good place to do so. You just keep going.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - All of it. All the love and gratitude you feel for the lieutenant, pouring out right now. Let it.

YOU - “Thank you for helping me, Kim.”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant shifts uncomfortably. He doesn't really know what to say to all of that, or how to play it off in a way that's cool as opposed to awkward and very flustered. After a moment of indecision, he settles for a half hearted shrug. “It's perfectly fine, detective. Like I said, anyone else would've done the same. And besides, you're…” He trails off, unsure of how to finish.

EMPATHY - These kinds of subjects are difficult for him to talk about. Open displays of emotion, vulnerability, honesty…

AUTHORITY - The thought of being a hero makes him very uncomfortable.

YOU - “But they wouldn't, Kim. You did.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Then they should. Help you, I mean. You're…” He freezes again, trying to find the right words.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - This discussion is taking a toll on him, in its own way. His ears are bright red.

KIM KITSURAGI - He quickly puts an end to it. “What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to keep thanking me for this.” A soft smile appears on his face. “And for the record, you don't owe me either. We aren't bankers.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Now, how do you feel about that trip to the store?” He asks, eager to put this behind you both.

VOLITION - The unspoken assurance is made clear. You don't have to tackle this today if you aren't feeling up to it.

ENDURANCE - You can take it. Getting out would do you some good, actually.

• “Now sound alright? Think we could do with a jog.” (Go!)

1. “Maybe a little later? Might be good to rest before we go on any more adventures.”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant raises his eyebrow, though isn't brimming with the authority it usually is. “ I could go for a jog. You could go for a brisk walk.”

DRAMA [Challenging: Success] - Sire, is he sure of himself? For you see, the lieutenant was injured in the tribunal as well!

YOU - “You're on medical leave too, remember?”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Fine. We could both go for a brisk walk.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “I think we could go back in and start cleaning tomorrow, if that sounds manageable, starting by getting everything off the floor.” He picks up his notebook, and starts reading through the list. “We'll have to tackle it eventually, though I wouldn't mind taking another day to recover. It’s your call.”

REACTION SPEED [Trivial: Failure] - Woah! Hold up! Wait just a second! He keeps saying we.

PERCEPTION (AUDITORY) - He's been saying it, actually. I’m surprised you haven't noticed.

YOU - …He wants to clean my apartment with me?

VOLITION - Tears threaten to fall from your eyes for the second time in five minutes.

YOU - “We?”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant looks confused for a moment. “Yes? Unless you'd like to clean it on your own. Understandable, but, no offense detective, you don't seem like you're in the best position to…”

KIM KITSURAGI - He blinks, realizing that you're on the verge of tears. “Oh, no no no. We're not doing this again. I'm helping you, detective.” He points his pen at you, in a form of mock aggression. “And don't even think about thanking me.”

AUTHORITY - And that's final. He shut that down quick.

KIM KITSURAGI - He places the pen behind his ear. “Now, unless there was something else?”

• “Fine. Let's walk.” (Go!)

1. “Now that I think about it…”

APARTMENT 402 - The trip is ultimately uneventful. There are no major incidents, something both of you found a little surprising, and you return with two bagfuls of cleaning supplies. It's late when you both return, just a little after 8pm. You both collapse onto the couch casting the reusable plastic bags to the side.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - What the hell is this!? Your thighs feel like jello after a little walk?

RHETORIC - It's been a lot of walking, actually. Specifically eight flights of stairs worth of walking. You've earned your jello legs.

KIM KITSURAGI - Eventually, the lieutenant places his hands on his knees and pushes himself off. “I should start getting the couch ready. You can take my bed, if you'd like.”

AUTHORITY - Meaning, “I'm taking the couch, and you’re going to take the bed.” Say, didn’t you say you'd take the couch?

KIM KITSURAGI - You did. It doesn't seem like the lieutenant is up for arguing though.

AUTHORITY - This is your chance then! Pay him back! Insist on taking the couch!

PAIN THRESHOLD [Impossible: Failure] - Please don't. Have you even considered how nice a bed would feel right now? Have you seen the lieutenant's couch?

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Godly: Failure] - You're no pansy, but the thick leather couch does look like it would make your jello leg syndrome worse.

PAIN THRESHOLD - See?

1. [AUTHORITY: GODLY] Convince the lieutenant to take the bed.

-1: Jello legs.

• “Wait just a second Kim, didn't I say I'd take the couch?”

1. “Fine.”

KIM KITSURAGI - He stares at you. “Right. Well, you’re not doing that.”

DRAMA - It's not that he didn't believe you were serious when you had suggested the idea, but rather that he never planned on letting you execute it to begin with. The betrayal!

KIM KITSURAGI - “This couch will be hell to sleep on, and you're still recovering. So…” He crosses his arms, believing he's won this argument.

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Not so fast, two can play this game! He's injured too!

YOU - “And a concussion doesn't count as an injury?”

KIM KITSURAGI - “I wasn't shot through the head, so, no. Not as serious of an injury as yours.”

RHETORIC [Formidable: Failure] - Hm.

YOU - Really? Nothing?

RHETORIC - Nothing. Sorry, he got you good.

• [AUTHORITY: GODLY] Convince the lieutenant to take the bed.

-1 Jello legs.

1. “Wait just a second Kim, didn't I say I'd take the couch?”
2. Just let him.

FAILURE

AUTHORITY [Godly: Failure] - Pull the rank card! That oughta work on him!

YOU - “Kim, as your superior officer, I'm going to have to ask that you let me take the couch. Please.”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant puts his hands on his hips and stares you down. “Detective, I'm afraid you still don't understand the RCM's rank system.” He launches into an explanation. “You see, you aren't an officer from my Precinct, so I'm under no legal obligation to take orders from you. Meaning you can't pressure me into letting you sleep on the couch.” The slight, smug smirk on his face says everything.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Another point for Kim Kitsuragi.

AUTHORITY - Damnit, you should've known that wouldn't work the moment you said please. You sounded pathetic.

PAIN THRESHOLD - End this misery. Just take the bed already. Please.

1. [AUTHORITY: GODLY] Convince the lieutenant to take the bed.

-1 Jello legs.

1. “Wait just a second Kim, didn't I say I'd take the couch?”

• “Fine.”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant pulls a pair of sheets out of the cover as you get off the couch. “Thank you. My room is the door across from the bathroom.”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - He continues setting up his makeshift bed. Pillows, sheets, a worn blanket. No amount of bedding can make that couch look comfortable.

SUGGESTION - What if…

YOU - What?

SUGGESTION [Formidable: Failure] - No, forget it. It wouldn't work.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - It would too! Tell him.

YOU - Say it. I want to know.

SUGGESTION - No, forget it. Not right now. You're too exhausted for any more thoughts.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Pussy.

VOLITION - Just go to sleep. If it's important, it can wait until the morning.

YOU - “Goodnight Kim.”

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant smiles, his face illuminated by the soft light of a lamp in his living room. If you squint, it almost looks like a halo. “Goodnight, detective. See you in the morning.”