>MadCrazyYO is attempting to sync to your friend list. Will you accept?
'Sure thing. I don't see a problem with it.' Vere's brows propped in interest, looking down at the glowing screen composed of light that jutted out of his SAD. As he thought to accept it, the panel squirmed as digital shapes emerged from it, nestling under his fingertips as the prompt changed.
> To access this feature, you'll have to make a chatroom name.
'Do I have to, or are you just making things difficult for me? It'd be fun to come up with a name and all, but honestly, I couldn't be bothered. Not for something like this...' It's not like Vere didn't want to be cooperative; it's just that he had no clue how this thing was supposed to work. What if he came up with something lame and couldn't change it in the future?
That's super important. Who'd want to be remembered as some cringy name? It would make it much harder to regain your sense of dignity, and everyone worth their salt should have at least a little self-respect. But, of course, that is if they wanted anyone to take them seriously.
While inwardly creasing his brows and racking his brain over the matter, the SAD decided to keep it default. Although the man's face was expressionless, anyone paying attention could see the hesitation and consideration going on underneath the mantle.
>...Is Mont Blanc fine? Okay.
Vere confirmed faster than it could even form a yes or no prompt. He'd do something, no matter how lame, if it amused him personally. But, unfortunately, something like a chatroom name did nothing for him in the entertainment sector of his mind.
>MadCrazyYO: Heyheyheyhey...mister handsome! Are you sure I can make WHATEVER I'd like?
>Mont Blanc: Yeah, I guess. Knock yourself out.
Vere humored the excited Donovan by even texting them back. Although the gas mask obscured their face, he could feel an intense stare coming from behind the facepiece. And that stare...was practically starrier than the night sky.
"Well. I'll leave...oh before I forget! Imma register my SAD to yours. Don't change my name, alright? Too many people think they're clever these days..." Morrigan walked over while clicking her tongue as she held her device to Vere's.
Our detective promptly accepted, and Morrigan turned to leave the room, having done what she wanted. The doors shut behind her as a frantic buzzing was abruptly muffled by the closing of the entrance.
------
Vere unhesitatingly took off the cloak, allowing the Magpie to carry it away as it dropped a couple of pearlescent feathers. Donovan gyrated around and ran through the contents of a desk, holding a strange device with a long, alloyed paper engraved with several numbers.
The paper shone with a misty glow as Donovan emitted a colorless aura. Then, quickly taking in Vere's measurements with surgical precision, the figure's body steadily shook underneath their hazmat suit.
You wouldn't know it since the figure hadn't spoken once and would continue not to. But they were currently humming along, their movements at ease as they pulled back a mottled curtain and got to work. Before officially getting down to business, they sent a message to their customer.
>MadCrazyYO: I usually wouldn't do this...BUT! Come be my model when yer free, and I'll put in extra effort into this piece. Just make a movement if ya agree. I'll know!
Vere cocked his head as his lower lip shifted. Then, he leaned back leisurely as he directed a thumbs up to the closed veil, sitting on the ground with his legs and arms crossed as he waited.
VRRRRR!!!
'Mmm...now what should I do after this? I could always explore, maybe go back to that rooftop area. That peeper might be around there if they can track me. Or...' His eyes narrowed as he looked down upon his body. Vere felt that he was wasting his abilities since he didn't have many physical skills in his repertoire,
He could move quickly, flexibly, and powerfully. But what was he doing with that? All that capability, and he was simply bashing his way through things. Vere wasn't content with this. He wanted to pursue both efficacy and satisfaction with his movements.
Our Warden wouldn't know this, but if he dropped his current facade, his body would be admitting a subtle, threatening pressure. His thoughts jetted through his skull, puzzling ways to alleviate his present worries.
Fulfillment...that was a word that could be quantified in many ways. Vere recognized that he enjoyed battle. He savored the feeling of moving his muscles as well. It might've even been more important to him than looking for humor in even the most inapplicable things.
His mind drifted to other matters as he sighed, having to put this aside. Instead, he'll focus on getting stronger, at least as one of his goals for the future.
'Modeling sounds fun, at least. I'll get to try on a lot of stuff. The people around here look pretty stylish, I have to admit.' His mind collected images of what he had seen since he had awoken in that strange murky place, going through all the outfit compositions he had glanced at during this short time. He definitely liked what he saw.
It took 30 minutes for Donovan to finish.
The clothing was wrapped in a fiber bag, with a zipper lining the front of it. However, the messy red handprints made it look like it carried something completely different...Vere laughed at this but slung the bag over his shoulders anyways.
"Thank you. I'll definitely be back for your offer later...if you don't mind waiting when I'm bored," he lifted a hand as he spun on his heel and embarked past the lifting garage door. Donovan gave the bewitching man a peace sign, hurriedly typing a message before they forgot.
>MadCrazyYO: Cool, I'll be waiting bro. I made sure that it could repair itself, and that it has no Rami drawbacks!
----------------
Vere walked out at the same time Gunther walked out of a doorway. Blue paint smudged his frock, and a smell of copper wafted off of him.
The guy stopped and brushed back his hair, his hand donning a new sanitation glove. He sidled up to the cloaked man and stretched his arm upwards to pat Vere on the shoulder, thumbing towards a booth at the end of the corridor.
"Hey man, good to see you. If you need to change, you can always do it in that Virtual Chamber. We use it for simulations, but I'm sure no one would mind...they do all sorts of weird shit in it anyways." Gunther spoke with a carefree voice, exuberant since he had just gotten a chance to shirk the heavy pile of work that awaited him in the autopsy room/
"Uh-huh...who are you again?" Vere asked while jabbing him in the shoulder with a single finger. His demeanor instantly became sociable, his face sporting a pleasant smirk as even the hints of black underneath his eyes lightened a bit.
"Gunther Freelaize, dude. We met in an alleyway...a guy pissed his pants... it's a friendship tale as old as time, yeah? So try not to smash my shoulder..." Gunther rubbed the place Vere poked with a jokingly aggrieved glance...
But it did sting. A lot. Maybe he'd have to hit the gym?
"Hey, buffster. What did you do to get those guns anyways? You sure you've never been on Lure De Flare or somethin'?" Gunther asked. He would be lying if he said he wasn't envious of Vere's musculature, and he HAD been a little less physically active than he should be lately.
"I'm not sure what you mean. Tell me about this "Lure De Flare."" Vere replied with an arched brow as the two made their way down the hallway.
"Dude, are you saying you haven't heard of it? It's the stuff of legends, man."
"Did you forget already? On the "tale of our friendship" night, as you put it, I told you that I lost my memories."
"Yeah, I get it but like, c'mon. You're seriously missing out if you don't at least know about this stuff." Gunther spread his arms wide and began explaining.
"So Lure De Flare is one of the Death Match spectacles. Legalized bloodsports that our government permitted to let the people curb their bloodlust you know? Desire Crevices have resulted in a lot of negative feelings and not a lot of rationality, you know?
It's like this cage match thing where you fight in various environments--usually, it's a ring. Two or more contestants enter, and nobody leaves until only one man is left standing...! Or a different condition, it depends.
The prizes are generally martial notebooks. Even a mook can defend themselves these days, you know. And everyone wants to get stronger in one way or another, and being physically capable is just one of those many ways.
The thing that sucks, though, is that many people choose to use Surrogate Machina Combat Droids. It lessens fatalities, sure, but I can't imagine that it's very honorable. Any Tom, Dick, or Harry can just upload their martial skill and expertise and just watch the machina go..." Gunther visibly sagged as he finished this, releasing the pent-up disappointment he had accrued over the years with a heave of the chest.
"Sounds like you're pretty passionate about it," Vere offered his findings as they slid past a team of people carrying a gurney.
"Man am I? This sport has been going up and down for years--it's worse than the stock markets. When I was a little boy, people had a lot more grit about these kinds of things...sure, it wasn't as flashy as it is now, and I'll be the first to admit that. But it was REAL, you know? Real." Gunther said, exhilarated as his breathing sped up.
Vere tilted his head in both acknowledgment and agreement. Whether it was real or not, he didn't care. But he felt that tenderness fully, even kinda admiring the guy for being so rooted in his opinions.
Right? Wrong? It didn't matter. The guy knew what he wanted.
Those matches did sound interesting, though...his mind started racing as he got to thinking. Whether his opponent was a human or not, wouldn't this be an excellent chance for him to witness new techniques?
He could even train while he was at it. Sounded like a win-win if he had ever heard one before.