>Who, me?The hand on your shoulder is about the most obvious signal of 'let me handle this' Richard could've given short of possessing you himself, and you scowl at it. Why should he handle it? Because he thinks he's smarter? Because he thinks he's a better liar? Well, he <span class="mu-i">is</span> a better liar, because his heart is black and scaly and yours is good and pure and honest. You simply can't abide falsehoods. "Um, no," you say. "We're not— what's Management?"
The trio on the ground appear conflicted. "That's what Management would say, right? If it's a surprise—" "I think they have to announce themselves? If asked." "Since when? I heard Incubation had a—" "Guys," the curly-haired man warns, and hefts his gun again. "Okay, if you folks aren't Management, who are you?"
'Escaped tourists' won't fly here, you're sensing, so on second thought you'll abide falsehoods just this once. "We're, um, new here! New employees. Fresh off the presses. Um, the employee presses. The, you know, metaphorical—"
Richard tightens his grip on your shoulder. "We were sent here with little explanation, so you'll have to forgive Frances for her babbling. As best as I can discern, we were meant to join your team, and we would get shown around from there... or something like that. Again, little explanation. Does this sound familiar?"
"We weren't told we'd be getting any..." The curly-haired man rubs his cheek. Ray(?) on the platform cups his hands around his mouth. "WHY'D YOU BLOW OUR WALL UP, ASSHOLE?"
"We didn't <span class="mu-i">blow it—</span>" you protest, before Richard interrupts you. "Your guess is as good as ours, frankly. We were lost, stopped to get a drink from the vending machine, next thing we know— I think Frances tried to lean against it. There must've been some underlying weakness in the material, or—"
"Or Zone #2's been sabotaging our base," hisses a woman with dangly earrings. "See? What did I say? They're on a whole other—"
"You can't blame Zone #2 for everything, Iris. It's probably maintenance, by which I mean a total lack of— how long have we been waiting for someone to look at the vending machine? The vending machine's busted, by the way," says the curly-haired man. "Uh, even before a wall probably fell on it. Are you guys hurt?"
"It's a miracle, but no, I think. Are you hurt, Frances?" Richard stares down at you, eyebrows arched.
"No," you mutter.
"We're unharmed. The vending machine not so much, but what can one do? Ah, well. May we come in?"
—
https://youtu.be/OcLbZFS4Ge8You have to tug your boots out from under a chunk of wall before you can follow Richard in, but once you're shod you scrabble over the rocks and into the office proper. While the music playing was too quiet to hear out in the corridor, it's a thin, high-pitched drone inside, and you have to hum tunelessly so it won't drive you to distraction.
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