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Turns out there's not actually that much behind the door. The room you're in is a small, cramped office that's lined from wall to wall with monitors. There's at least dozens on dozens of hidden cameras on each floor if the sheer volume of monitors has anything to say. Besides that, a desk with another monitor, and some old filing cabinets?
<span class="mu-r">There's a woman in her early 20s currently pointing a loaded hunting rifle at the five of you.</span> Her messy mop top hair has a striking blue color to it. Her uniform is shockingly casual, mostly consisting of a blue-grey sleeveless shirt, dark blue pants, and some brown boots.
"Caw." She aims the rifle point blank at your head. "Cheater! Thou has shown thyself. Yer not the first one who tried to delete da evidence of yer wrongdoings! However! I, Marla of da Clover Suite, will not let ye get away with yer treason!" What the fuck is that accent she's putting on? It's some bastardized mix of a knight and a hick.
Adam and Ashley retch in unison upon hearing her voice, "What the actual fuck?" "Please never speak again."
Max is having a hard time deciding whether to laugh or join the others in disgust, "Wow. Please keep talking."
Benjamin blinks a few times before responding in the only way he can. "Hoot."
"Caw!" Marla yells back.
"Hoot." Benjamin quietly responds.
"CAW!" "Hoot." "CAW- Wait, hold on. Trickery!" Upside, the rifle is no longer being pointed at you. Downside, it's being pointed at Benjamin now.
"Hey! If you're going to aim at anyone, aim at me! Not him!" Max hisses out.
"why are we talking why are we talking." Ashley grips her baseball bat tighter.
"...Would you believe us if we said we were just here to give you food?" Adam tries his best to defuse this situation. Marla is too busy aiming between Benjamin and Max to listen to him.
"Thou has sixty seconds to explain thy case before yer asses are sent straight to hell!" <<span class="mu-b">"Am I even saying it right? Dangit, I really should've reviewed the handbook more! Damnit, Clover, I'm still new to this!</span>> "N-Corp thinks they're the ones to show ye god? I, MARLA OF DA CLOVER SUITE, WILL!"
"Seriously, why are you talking like that?" Max is not remotely taking this situation seriously despite what's going on. "You sound like a retard. Pick one accent."
Marla clenches her teeth in anger but one look into your mind can tell it's all bark. <<span class="mu-b">"...Is it really that lame? I thought I sound cool. Caw."</span>>
<<span class="mu-b">"C'mon, I really don't want to do this!"</span> "WELL? FIFTY SECONDS LEFT!" You really don't want to waste any more time than you have to here. Best to make a decision and to make it fast. Pick how you want to handle this situation.
