NPC Inbox.

[imaginarymods]

NPC INBOX

The office is currently CLOSED.

NPC threads that don't have a particular place in mod logs will happen here! Please note that this post is not for unplanned or drop-in threads unless otherwise noted. Rather, we'll be working on threads here with PCs as determined by RNG or other game mechanics.


NAVIGATION ⯈



code bases by tricklet

Comments

[imaginarymods]

[The figure nods, in a way that seems strangely choppy and awkward, as though it's forgotten how. There's an audible noise of surprise at Ogata's claim of ignorance, however.]

You don't? Interesting.

[In a yeah right sort of tone.]

You know a great deal about other things, though. Are you telling me you don't believe those skills might be useful in this situation?

[snyaiper]

[A part of him suspects he's just being buttered up, really, but it's appealing right now to ignore that and focus on the fact that he's being praised and told that he's useful. That's right. He may not be likeable or a good person but he's crafty and determined. He can work with what he has.]

... I suppose I can figure something out. As long as you're not expecting me to solve the problem immediately.

[imaginarymods]

[Well. Maybe a little. But that doesn't make it any less true. His host knows how to spot the parts of someone they're most proud of, but he couldn't do that without those parts existing, now could he?]

[The soft laugh that comes in response is somehow not particularly friendly. Very . . . bureaucratic.]

I'm expecting you to solve the problem at the pace and in the fashion that is most effective. I'm putting my trust in you, Ogata.

[snyaiper]

[Ogata stands up, twisting his hand into a salute, half reflexive, half sarcastic. This feels good, feels familiar. Feels like the sort of situation he's used to being in.]

I won't let you down, sir.
[Whether it's true or not, it doesn't really matter. If he fails, what exactly does he have to lose?]

[imaginarymods]

I know you won't.

[In one way or another, really. Ogata won't let him down.]

[Ah, and here's the second half of the conundrum. Head tipping sideways, an Eye opens behind and to the left of his great dark chair.]

Now. I have to let you go back to your pleasant dreams, don't I? How do I — hm.

[Lifting his hand over the table, he turns it palm up. Makes a fist. Squeezes. Ogata will feel, or believe himself to feel, a clench tight around his ribcage. Then the hand flips and the fist opens, palm opening to face the tabletop.]

[Ogata wakes up wherever he fell asleep. Nothing seems very different, and it might be easy to discount what he's experienced.]

[If not for the bullet wedged deep in his pocket, black steel, its base emblazoned with an eye whose lines are drawn in colors that shift every time the light hits.]

[He is, officially, employed.]