"Hehehe, thanks for the praise~ You'd better come back here in the future, okay? But, this isn't the end of my little present." Othello grinned with gleaming teeth, her whole image giving off a distinct shine.
Vere arched his brows, wondering exactly what she meant. The only thing that could make this better…well, what did he like exactly?
He liked clothing, fighting, getting stronger…ah, there was exploring too. Sarcasm was nice and fine, and making fun of things was more of a reflex than a particular hobby.
'Right…there was that, wasn't there? I need more bullets for my little revolver. I wonder if it's special to me in particular? Or at least who I once was.' His mind came to an understanding, yet his eyes didn't betray anything. Although his thoughts seemed slow, in reality, he was processing things in microseconds—if he couldn't control his facial expressions, he might've had rapidly changing countenances at all times.
He didn't know that even this was improving the Conspiracy Rami. It couldn't help but soak in the insight of Vere's concealing…or transforming…nature. Everything about this man was either hidden, twisted, concealed, or displayed in a way beneficial to his own interests. He just didn't know what these interests were.
Put uncharitably, he actively manipulated himself. In a lighter tone, he could not display himself in a straightforward manner—only when someone could discern his movements would they know whether he was being honest or not.
As if he was always conspiring something, calculating whether or not to morph his outlook to fit a purpose. At least Vere himself could pin down a few things he truly liked—they were a tether to understanding himself.
How he was, how he is, and how he will be. This was vital to our detective, something that drove and fueled his conviction. The lack of a purpose bothered him as if he was missing something vital.
He repressed that feeling and hid it back within its depths, choosing to enjoy things as they were currently.
There was no real use obsessing about it right now anyway. Not when Othello was playing with an azure curling mist, focusing hard on what was happening in her hands as her shoulders sagged.
And then it appeared.
12 .357 caliber bullets were shoved towards Vere, who shrugged off his introspection and took them. Their gazes met as Othello plopped on another chair before she promptly fell over and started drooling with closed eyes.
Vere's eyes widened as he brushed a gloved hand over her, two fingers searching for a pulse as they landed on her neck.
'She's sleeping. I'll have to…wait. I should carry a pen and paper with me so I can just write letters in the future, that'll be easier than just thanking her whenever possible. Or anyone else, for that matter. Still…' his neutral countenance considerably brightened as pearlescent feathers fell around his frame.
"…I am quite grateful to you, Othello. I will repay this in the future." The brass bullets shone, a single one pinched between his obscured digits. Then, with a pearl flash, it disappeared—whisked away to his thought nexus.
Click. The door behind him closed as he arrived back into the half-finished area of the Shattered Skyscraper Mall.
'Right, what to do now. I'll have to wait for my rewards from Morrigan, and I'm not interested in searching for no gain. I could practice my skills by returning to the industrial rooftop area…or.' He retrieved his revolver with a pearly glow visible only to him. Sticking it back in his holster as he smoothly loaded the chambers with satisfying clicks, he smiled.
He carried himself all the way back to Ragtime Paradise, standing behind the counter. Then, he drifted off, closing his eyes while listening to the jazzy music that permeated his bar.
A hazy glow was emitted from his body as if he was meditating.
—
Time drifted past before he opened his eyes again, alerted by the door's opening.
"I should really get a bell for it. Would sound pretty nice, ey?"
Morrigan's Sensus, the One-Armed Abadonne, took its seat very promptly. Vere gave it a glass of scotch, which prompted its wiggling tendrils to wave as a sign of appreciation.
After it poured the drink on top of its head, it emitted dark particles as it played a recording of Morrigan's voice. Vere leaned on the back of the wall, considering the message he was about to hear.
"Come back for your reward. Come to Old Westwood Headquarters, at my office. Oh, and before you ask, "why couldn't I have messaged your SAD," or something like that…uh. I saw the footage of you losing your clothes and figured I'd need to see you in person. That, and it's hard for me to get enough free time to enter the B-Side in general. Okay, see ya! Ta ta~."
After the recording was finished playing, the black creature, which was quite similar to Morrigan in appearance, extended its hand. The only one it had.
"Is there something you'd like?" Vere asked, his eyes fixed on the ill-defined hand of the Sensus.
It nodded, bobbing its head up and down before pointing at the tall man.
"…Does everything flirt with me now? Or am I just unlucky?" Vere's brows twitched in slight annoyance as his countenance became rigid. It was positively frozen in place, but at least it was a poker face.
The One Armed Abadonne tilted its head, which Vere mimicked. Cocking its head this way and that, it gestured with a thumb pointing towards the door, then reopened its hand.
"Haaah…alright. Do what you said you're going to do, okay?" He understood what the Sensus was getting at and finally acquiesced, grasping his encased hand in theirs.
The world dimmed, and he appeared within Morlund once again. Of course, in the building of Old Westwood Headquarters and right before Morrigan's black smudged door.
The lights were bright this time, the Virtual Interface swinging about the room underneath the smart lights fixed on the corners of the room. Morrigan seemed to be fiddling with something at her desk, specks of light floating upwards underneath her swift hands.
"Oh, Vere! Honestly, I thought it would take much longer, but here you are! First." She clicked on something, and a heap of glimmering coins appeared on the desk.
"Go on, pick them up!" Morrigan smiled, her deadened face temporarily enlivened by her own excitement. If Vere was suspicious of her antics, he didn't show it—instead smoothly sauntered up to the pile and intentionally put just a finger on its surface.
It disappeared in a radiant abundance of light.
>500 Merit Coins earned. Balance: 500.
'Well, thanks there, SADsy. Was that supposed to be surprising or something?' He inwardly shrugged, not at all bewildered by this sequence of events. Wouldn't manufacturing coins in such an era be redundant if they couldn't use the advantages of the technology they developed? Even ordinary things had to somewhat fit through the lens of the world's current state.
"Aw boo. I thought you would be more surprised by that kind of thing. What with your gripes about the future and all…."
"Yeah, that's kind of getting old. Shock me once; shame on me. Twice? Well, I'll let you know when it happens." Vere said with a satirical tone as he sat down, bridging his chin as he laid his elbows down on her desk.