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You crinkle the umbrella between your thumb and forefinger and look up into the lizard thing's saucer eyes: one gold, one iron. It dips its head and retreats to the nice chair. You breathe in lizard-cocoa steam.
<span class="mu-i">We don't have to talk. I just wanted to keep you company.</span>
"While I'm..." You flick your eyes out the window, which glows red. "...disassembled?"
<span class="mu-i">It's lonely on the operating table, isn't it? And cold.</span>
You cradle the mug in your lap. It does admittedly look like regular cocoa: you can't see any bugs in it or anything. They could be dissolved bugs.
<span class="mu-i">Drink some. Warm up.</span>
"I will," you say tentatively. "I just... I don't understand what's happening..."
The lizard-thing clicks its claws together. <span class="mu-i">Aren't you a detective?</span>
You look down.
<span class="mu-i">Go on.</span>
>[A1] Detectivate. (What do you think's happening — where did you fall to? What's with the eye? Where are you now? Write-in. You don't have to be 100% correct about everything, just give enough of an honest try that the lizard-thing appreciates it. It could be useful to reference previous threads.)
>[A2] God, you're sick of people(?) who know more than you do being all sly and cagey about things. Either it'll tell you or it won't, but you're damn well not playing along.
>[B1] Ask the lizard-thing's name.
>[B2] Apologize for how you were acting last night. It wasn't, um, characteristic of you.
>[B3] Ask if it's actually a lizard, or if it's a monster that just happens to look like a lizard.
>[B4] Ask why it's back. You thought it said it had somewhere to be?
>[B5] Ask why it's in the nude. You know it's a lizard(-thing), but it just doesn't seem proper, what with it being sentient and vaguely female and whatnot.
>[B6] Just hang out in silence. Maybe go look out the window.
>[B7] Write-in.
