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You are Charlotte Fawkins, dashing heroine, detective, adventuress, heiress, etc. etc.. Three years ago, you drowned yourself in a quest to find a long-lost family heirloom: nowadays, you're just generally c̶a̶u̶s̶i̶n̶g̶ solving problems with the help of trusty beetley retainer Gil and un-trusty mind-snake Richard. Bizarrely, people seldom seem to enjoy your presence, though you've never done anything wrong in your life?
Right now, you've been reunited with a disheveled Gil, whom you parted ways with after escaping a walking tour of dodgy local corporation Headspace.
Or, well, "reunited." He's turned away from you not a half-second after catching your eye, and is now being accosted by Casey, who has turned his company-spokesman smile-wattage to maximum. Despite this, his voice is too low to eavesdrop on, so you're forced to kick your heels through the dust until Casey relinquishes his metaphorical grip.
His literal grip, though, remains firmly intact: Gil is attempting not to look uncomfortable at Casey's hand on his shoulder and mostly failing. His earlier bravado seems mostly dissipated. Is the adrenaline waning? Was it what Casey said? Casey doesn't seem any more sinister than he used to, but it's hard to tell with those awful rainbow sunglasses. "Charlotte! I'm positively delighted to report that your tour companion has been rescued, <span class="mu-i">entirely</span> unharmed—"
Gil rubs his bloody nose.
"—all thanks to the hard work of our crack team! We hire the <span class="mu-i">best,</span> we really do. I'm proud of them. I'm proud of us! How was your complimentary beverage, by the way?"
Your complimentary Headspace fruit punch needed less ice and more alcohol, in your honest opinion, though maybe it's best you hold off on the latter before the drinking party tonight. "Uh... I liked the umbrella."
"The <span class="mu-i">umbrella!</span> Yes! I love it! What a marvelous— I never would've thought of it myself. Not in a eon, Charlotte. But this is why I love to meet new people! Gain fresh perspectives! Squeeze their ideas out of them for all they're worth! One second." Casey holds up a hand, then taps his earpiece. "Yes, hi— hi, it's— no, it's taken care of— I want umbrellas. No, paper— little paper umbrellas. Drink umbrellas. With the logo on them. Eh... a thousand. Start there. We'll expand. You choose the color. Yes. No, not orange— no, <span class="mu-i">not</span> blue— no. red. Red umbrellas. With the logo. <span class="mu-i">Yes,</span> now. Paper. Thanks."
He taps the earpiece again and winks at you. "We'll test-drive them in the main cafeteria. Thank you for making Headspace a better place!"
A better place? You're not sure what branded paper umbrellas are going to do when the employees are evidently drugged and trapped inside for years on end, but... well, paper umbrellas <span class="mu-i">do</span> work wonders. So who knows? "...Of course! I mean, obviously. I can't help but—"
(1/3)
Right now, you've been reunited with a disheveled Gil, whom you parted ways with after escaping a walking tour of dodgy local corporation Headspace.
Or, well, "reunited." He's turned away from you not a half-second after catching your eye, and is now being accosted by Casey, who has turned his company-spokesman smile-wattage to maximum. Despite this, his voice is too low to eavesdrop on, so you're forced to kick your heels through the dust until Casey relinquishes his metaphorical grip.
His literal grip, though, remains firmly intact: Gil is attempting not to look uncomfortable at Casey's hand on his shoulder and mostly failing. His earlier bravado seems mostly dissipated. Is the adrenaline waning? Was it what Casey said? Casey doesn't seem any more sinister than he used to, but it's hard to tell with those awful rainbow sunglasses. "Charlotte! I'm positively delighted to report that your tour companion has been rescued, <span class="mu-i">entirely</span> unharmed—"
Gil rubs his bloody nose.
"—all thanks to the hard work of our crack team! We hire the <span class="mu-i">best,</span> we really do. I'm proud of them. I'm proud of us! How was your complimentary beverage, by the way?"
Your complimentary Headspace fruit punch needed less ice and more alcohol, in your honest opinion, though maybe it's best you hold off on the latter before the drinking party tonight. "Uh... I liked the umbrella."
"The <span class="mu-i">umbrella!</span> Yes! I love it! What a marvelous— I never would've thought of it myself. Not in a eon, Charlotte. But this is why I love to meet new people! Gain fresh perspectives! Squeeze their ideas out of them for all they're worth! One second." Casey holds up a hand, then taps his earpiece. "Yes, hi— hi, it's— no, it's taken care of— I want umbrellas. No, paper— little paper umbrellas. Drink umbrellas. With the logo on them. Eh... a thousand. Start there. We'll expand. You choose the color. Yes. No, not orange— no, <span class="mu-i">not</span> blue— no. red. Red umbrellas. With the logo. <span class="mu-i">Yes,</span> now. Paper. Thanks."
He taps the earpiece again and winks at you. "We'll test-drive them in the main cafeteria. Thank you for making Headspace a better place!"
A better place? You're not sure what branded paper umbrellas are going to do when the employees are evidently drugged and trapped inside for years on end, but... well, paper umbrellas <span class="mu-i">do</span> work wonders. So who knows? "...Of course! I mean, obviously. I can't help but—"
(1/3)
