[The Grid] Chatper 1: Hardwired

[Neolarthytep]

[
'The dark bottle has no reflection. He'll never find me now.' Somehow you managed to pass out in your bed. Who bought all the booze? And how's your foot?"

b]Robert Maudeville[/b]


I have no idea who bought the booze, and I have no recollection of anything past leaving the hospital.


The stupidity of his friends sometimes drives him crazy.


My foot stills hurts, but thanks for asking anyways

 

[Persell]

Patrick, Kase


Before Bob disappears inside he glances backwards over his shoulder at Pat. "Luck, Mr.Patrick? Sadly, your luck is a little outside my hands. May whatever god you pray to shelter you." He pronounces the odd blessing with an even odder tone, mostly resignation but tinged with both sadness and a deep, profound bitterness, almost perfectly concealed. Potent as it is, you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't specifically listening. Then he walks away.


Lace doesn't immediately respond to Kase's question. She looks thoughtful, as if she were puzzling a way through a maze. After a moment or so she climbs out of the car and approaches to draw him aside from Patrick. When they're a discrete distance away she says, "I'm really not the one you should be talking to about that. Nor is it the kind of thing that you should really be talking about at all, except with Bob or Athena. They handle that kind of thing. Bob probably knows more about it, but Athena's better at explaining it. She has more patience."


Then, after a moment, she offers, "But if you're not quite ready to head in there yet, you can stay out here with us. Pat and I are working on his motor, and if that sort of thing interests you, you can help. But be careful. Pat doesn't really know about-" she pauses, and then swings her finger around, encompassing you, her, the garage, and possibly the world. '-stuff, so watch what you say. Honestly, I wouldn't say anything about yourself. You're kind of incognito now."


She reaches out and squeezes Kase's arm companionably, leaving a greasy hand print. Then she turns around and heads back to the big car.


"So, Pat, let's talk brass tacks. How much are you willing to pay? I can do everything, no problem, by Friday, but my guy in Detroit is going to charge me an arm and a leg for a rush delivery. Otherwise it'll take an extra week, possibly two. Probably a hundred to two hundred dollar price difference. It'll bring the whole job from three hundred to four or five."


She slides under the hood next to Pat and starts poking at one lanced stretch of tubing.

Spoiler

Lace and Kase were far enough from Patrick that he wouldn't hear them if he was thinking about the engine, but if he was specifically listening, he could. It would be a perception + awareness roll at difficulty 1, so no biggie. Otherwise the clicking of the engine would drown them out.


And yes, I was originally waiting for Kase's action too, but then I got 'Hey, you'ed at work, and lost the beginning of the week.

 

[Persell]

Erin


Not for the first time the building seems the crouch beside the road. It has surprisingly well maintained grounds, with short trees sitting in islands in the parking lot. Around the base of the building itself are lines of small shrubs, some kind of coniferous bush with short branches and thick bushy needles. There are a couple of guys with hedge clippers and gratuitous ass crack above their pants working on the bushes, clipping away. Over the roof is the afternoon sky. Low clouds have just started to turn pink around the edges, but the higher wispy ones are still pure white.


The law office itself is only one story, backed by undeveloped land where the pine barrens grow unchecked. The building is make of brick, with few windows near the ground. This is to prevent flooding, but it makes the building look like a roach motel. There is one way in, and no way out. But there's money inside. Wonderful, wonderful, necessary money. Lots of it. That's advertised by the sports cars the lawyers drive, and the opulent grounds.


Around the side of the building are a few renegade bushes poking in over the property line. The questionably decent gardeners are arguing with each other about clipping them. Somewhere not too far away you hear police sirens.

 

[Arynne]

Erin stares at the building, head throbbing. She will march in there, throw open the door of her boss's office, and scream at him, demanding explanations, denouncing all the lies and half-lies and evasions. She will lay her hands on the walls and pull the foul building down like Samson, or blow it apart in a blast of golden light.


She takes a step forward, and the cool voice speaks again from the back of her mind. "Look at it. Almost no windows. One entrance. There's supposed to be another for safety reasons, but you know they keep it chained shut, never mind the fire codes. It's a trap for you. But, then, it always was, wasn't it?"


Erin turns around and, moving almost mechanically, she empties her purse and wallet of cell phone, credit cards, driver's license. Then she begins walking rapidly away (she never wears heels outside the office, thank the Sun) taking long strides, the way she used to do when she was a kid.

 

[lordofthestorm]

Kase wiped absentmindedly at the grease stain. So much for getting a straight answer. Then again, Bob and Athena were the ones who brought him along on this crazy ride, so asking Lace wasn't half as logical as it seemed.


Speaking of which, he wanted to check on Athena. She still looked a mess when they had arrived, what with getting shot in the leg and all that...why on earth did he care so much about Athena anyway? This was starting to look a lot like a case of what he heard someone call "Strangled by the Red String."

 

[Persell]

Kase


Inside the shop the lights are dim. Kase finds the waiting area much as Patrick did, with the subtraction of the mechanic. The two handed sword over the desk is still there and just as inexplicable. After a moment's looking around Bob appears from a back room. He holds a door open with a clear intent of being more inviting then imperious. Results are mixed. More importantly, a moment later Athena arrives from a side room.


She's changed her clothes and washed the blood off. Since she left you not five minutes ago, the sudden shift in appearance is more impressive then startling. Wearing a black suit with no insignia she walks barefoot into the lobby to greet you. There she shakes your hand warmly.


"I heard you talking with Lace outside. She was right to caution you, but I suppose that isn't much consolation, is it? Nor is it an explanation. I'm sorry. There isn't much I can do to improve that. There are very strict rules about how we go about these things, and believe it or not, they're for your benefit, not ours." While saying this she kept your hand, and you could feel the steel in her grip. It was like those jocks who try to intimidate people by squeezing really hard when they shake, but Athena's hold was very tightly restrained. It delivered only the impression of a tremendous ability to cinch tight without a hint of unnecessary pressure. Her skin is very warm. Now she releases you, but pivots around you to slide one hand against the small of your back. With the other she beckons towards the door Bob is holding open.


"Kase, you've already made this choice once, but I won't deny you your chance to make it again. You were rushed and in danger for your life. The effects of the morphine might have influenced you. We've eliminated both of those influences as much as we can. Now you need to make this choice again. But to avoid the rudeness of keeping you in the dark, I'm going to explain why. There are two reasons.


"Years ago, in another time and another place, my kind would have simply taken your assent for granted. It was the easiest way to ensure the most expedient solution, and that solution failed catastrophically. In all seriousness, it might well have been the reason for the end of the world.


"Secondly, very soon you will have to start making all your choices for yourself. I will always be willing to help you, but my ability to do so will wane. What's worse, there's no way I'll ever be able to tell you enough for you to fully understand the implications of them. Thus you're going to be left with gut instinct and intuition. You've got to trust that and find your own way. So, Kase Wilder, would you like to come in? You already know the stakes."


She looks up at you expectantly. Both she and Bob have an air of solemn formality about them, and you get the feeling this moment is determined by those strict rules she was talking about.

 

[Persell]

Robert Maudeville


"Dude, you really should get that checked out," replies Tom. There's real concern beneath his dry, mildly acerbic tone.


"In the mean time, I shall give thanks to the alcohol gods for the bounty they have provided us," adds Frank, and grabs a bottle of whiskey. He pours them a generous libation that somehow manages to miss the floor and goes down his throat, and follows this with another, deeper swig. There's a loose pack of cigarettes on the counter, and he swipes it. "Now, I must offer the whiskey gods a burnt offering. Don't wait up." He sticks a butt in his mouth and heads outside.


"Yes, Frank. You go do that," Tom agrees with him. His words are cynical, but you can't tell if they're sarcastic because he's making fun, because he's recognizing the futility of encouraging Frank on any other path, or because Tom's simply forgotten how not to be sarcastic. The sandy haired man reaches into the fridge and finds roots around, ultimately emerging with some rum. He grunts at you and heads over to his computer. "If you get glasses, we can have a drink. There was some weird shit I found last night and meant to show you."


This can either incite your curiosity, repel it, or both. There was that time he found /b/ and things once seen can never be unseen.


"Dudes!" yells Frank from outside the room.


Tom ignores him, and pours two stiffish rum and cokes, one for the each of you. With that he turns on his lap top, and the old machine starts to boot.


"Dudes!" interrupts Frank again, more insistently.


"What!?" demands Tom, exasperated.


The heavily sedated cook runs into the room. He's still got the whiskey in one hand, and the cigarette hangs forgotten in his mouth. His eyes are wild, and not with drunk excitement. You don't think he's really blitzed yet. "Dudes, dudes, dudes!" he says again, cleverly elucidating the source of his excitement with descriptive terminology. He drops the bottle and pulls out a pack of matches. "Dude, I pulled these out of your jacket from last night. It was on the deck."


Then he strikes one.

Spoiler

 

[Persell]

Erin


When all is said and done, you have three things. The business card from the woman Tink you met at the fencing meet. The little fairie is oddly cheerful on the cardstock, blessing the name with fairie dust. She had wanted to talk to you when her driver had interrupted with his disdain. Another business card from another fencer, Ms Whitfield, the woman your boss thought was wheelchair bound. It's much more professional, and the black text is formal. The woman was able to recognize your blisters from a handshake. Back at your apartment is your gear. Cheap, bought mostly from pawn shops and second hand sporting goods stores, it's functional, but little more. But also in your apartment is stuff. Computers, rugs, chairs, beds, leases, and student loan letters are everywhere in there.


You don't even have a quarter for a pay phone. Pay phones still take quarters, right? You haven't used one in a very long time.


The other thing you have is the sun. It's warm, beating down from above, and you might very well owe it a goat. On either side of the road is the stubby shore grass. It's short and very dense green, even in the early spring, and hiding among the stalks are spiny cacti. Thicker trees grow further from the road on both sides, some small on the outskirts, but getting higher and denser. The world, indeed is before you, which you should believe in because you can see, taste, and touch it, while the sun soars above, which you can feel.

 

[Arynne]

The other thing you have is the sun. It's warm, beating down from above, and you might very well owe it a goat. On either side of the road is the stubby shore grass. It's short and very dense green, even in the early spring, and hiding among the stalks are spiny cacti. Thicker trees grow further from the road on both sides, some small on the outskirts, but getting higher and denser. The world, indeed is before you, which you should believe in because you can see, taste, and touch it, while the sun soars above, which you can feel.

But as Erin walks down the road, her mind is still back in that revelatory moment of clarity she experienced back on the highway. It could be that the Sun stopped the bullets from hitting me, he helped me pull off that Car Fu -- when I can hardly drive! -- he made those bastards crash. You don’t judge stuff like this based on merit. Whether or not what I experienced was an according-to-Hoyle miracle is insignificant. What is significant is that, for the first time in my life, I felt a god’s touch, he got involved.


And now it comes to her that this is not, after all, the first time she has felt something like this. Taking her mostly-empty wallet out of her pocket, she removes Tink’s card and stares at it.

The little fairie is oddly cheerful on the cardstock, blessing the name with fairie dust. She had wanted to talk to you when her driver had interrupted with his disdain.

I have to know more about this…this…whatever it is, Erin thinks. And I need to go back to my apartment anyway. While I’m there, I can use the phone. What harm can it do?


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


It’s a slightly longer walk than Erin is used to these days; fortunately her fencing practice keeps her in shape. Back at the Seabreeze, she looks around her apartment, feeling a strange kind of contempt for its clutter. She wishes she could just go, and leave everything behind her. However, this isn’t a spaghetti Western or an episode of Kung Fu, and walking the earth is less simple than old TV shows make it seem.


Erin throws a few things into her grandfather’s bag. She’s never been a light packer; in fact, she usually ends up lugging two or three heavy bags, plus a knapsack. Now she has to force herself to take things with her.


While hesitating over her fencing gear, she remembers her other motive in coming back here. Going over to the telephone, she dials the number on the card.

 

[lordofthestorm]

Talk about mood whiplash.


Athena and Bob were talking to him like he was about to join the armed forces. The last time around, it was akin to a sales pitch, or maybe a trailer to a movie. He was trying to sort out everything in his head, trying to rationalize the reason for everything without thinking he was still on the morphine. So far, the only reason for it was because currently, he had no other recourse. That and he was still nowhere near to being able to solve this problem on his own. There was a reason why he was still living with his parents.


But wasn't this what he wanted anyway? Kase wanted to break the chains. He wanted to be free. Athena was offering it, strange it could seem. He was at the doorstep of destiny. All he had to do was knock.


He would knock. And damn the consequences.


"I'll do it."

 

[The Bushranger]

Patrick


Puzzling over Bob's odd statement, Pat turns back to the engine, half-aware of Lace dragging Kase off to talk to him, curious, but the sound of the engine turning over and starting to heat up again catches more of his attention. So much so, in fact, that he starts a bit when the dimunitive mechanic returns and starts talking to him again.


"Huh? Oh. Hm. Well, if there's a loaner or anything I can drive, then, waiting's cool, but this is all the wheels I've got." He waves at the Challenger. "I've been wanting to get my hands on a B.R.A.T. for more casual use but there aren't too many of those on the market. So, like I said, it depends, if there aren't any Yugos I can putter around in for a coupla weeks, I'll have to see if I can swing how much money this speed costs."


(Perception + Awareness) = I rolled 3d10 but lost the link before closing it. It was all lower than 8 anyway, so...

 

[Persell]

Spoiler

Recall the target number is a seven, so you might have made something. But it doesn't really matter to be honest, so with permission I'll just pretend Patrick was too polite to be eavesdropping. Charisma 3/Compassion 3, et al.


Kase


At your words Bob steps back from the door and holds it open for you to pass through. Neither he nor Athena say a word, nor make any move to touch you as you cross the threshold. The step seems filled with an unstated symbolism that bears heavily on the two of them, and you think that it is very important in some manner that they don't help you make it.


The only thing that happens outwardly is you enter a small office. It's small, and the desk is covered in paperwork. You glance at it, but it's nothing more than part orders and accounting documents. Most of them are in some kind of order but nothing looks too interesting. Bob heads towards a cabinet and pulls out a liquor bottle and a dirty coffee mug. He follows by doing three straight shots in very short order.


"I am entirely too old for this," he opines quietly. "You want to test him, Athena? We can toast the end of the world after we're sure."


"I was intending to anyway," she replies as she goes to the desk. Dropping into the seat she swivels around to face the papers, and then opens the shallow drawer underneath the primary writing surface. It's meant for pens and possibly an eraser, and there's no space for more. The bottom is cork, with a couple of thumbtacks stuck here and there. With a flick of her wrist she holds her hand out and open behind her.


The vast claymore from the other room sails across the open air and drops into her hand. She didn't even look. Instead she swings the sword up and over, and then plunges the four foot blade into the wood. It sinks in like a stick into water, sending faint ripples through the wood, without appearing through the bottom. Bob hisses like he's in physical pain, and slams back another, deeper slug of hard liquor. Glancing over at him you notice he's gritting his teeth hard, and beads of sweat are running down his forehead. Athena doesn't pay attention. Once the steel blade's sunk to the hilt, she twists it and drags it sideways across cork, parting it like the wake behind a boat. A savage red glow blossoms from within, casting strange silhouettes on the ceiling. You can only watch them for a moment as they dance and gibber wickedly, making horrible faces, and forming signs in shapes your eyes were never meant to see. Bob is hissing through his teeth in pain. Her other hand darts into the open space, kicking up a luminescent red fog, and into the heart of the red light. Then she yanks something out and wrenches the blade back. It closes the cut like a zipper, and when removed the cork looks unmarked.


"You all right, over there?" she asks Bob.


"Fuck no," he replies and drops into a chair. You can see his skin is a bone white pallor, dripping wet with perspiration. His short ring of hair around the bald spot is plastered to his skull, and his clothes seem to hang loose on his body. The suit which had looked perfectly tailored before now seems oversized, a hand-me-down from an older brother. Bob's head is in his hands, and his white silk sleeves are slowly turning transparent with the moisture.


Athena looks at him calmly and then sighs. "Anything I can do?" she offers.


"You can go get-" he replies in a bitter and hostile tone before catching himself at the second word. "No, there isn't. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Thank you for offering."


"We can wait a moment," Athena offers.


"Please. I would appreciate that. Would either of you like a drink?" His tone is odd. Instead of the casual self-absorbed arrogance of before, now he sounds forcedly solicitous. He's trying very hard to fake niceness. Even having just met him, you recognize the artificial sentiment. Athena clearly does as well, but she seems to take it at face value.


"You can pour," she replies. "Since Kase can't drink it yet, I'll hold off too, but we can toast as soon as it's done."


"Oh. Right. I forgot about that," he agrees. At that he pulls his head out of his hands, rummages around in the cabinet for glasses. He finds three clean disposable cups, and puts about a shot of the pale white liquid into each. Then he pours about five more into the coffee cup, slams it back, and forces himself to his feet. "My apologies, Kase Wilder. We'll drink in a moment."


"Kase, this is a test," Athena tells you, looking away from her peculiarly worn and pained looking comrade. In her hand is the thing she pulled from the strange red space. It looks like a marble, about the size of a shooter, and in it are a number of small twinkling points of light. "You don't have to do anything, just stand still and hold this, please. This won't hurt." She hands you the claymore. It's heavier than it looks but feels comfortable in your hands.


Then she spins the marble like a top and drops it onto the desk. It rolls around, bounces off a stack of paper, and tumbles over the edge to roll over the floor. After a moment it bounces against your foot, recoils, and rolls back to collide with your foot again.


Both Athena and Bob let out explosive exhalations. Both had been holding their breath and now looked much relieved. Athena turns to you, "Congratulations, Kase. You get to save the-"


Then marble keeps spinning. After touching your foot the second time, it turns away, and rolls quietly across the floor and out the door.


In the same odd unison they showed in your hotel room, the two watch it roll away, and then lean, identically to watch it pass into the lobby. They tilt further and further until they're both standing at an almost forty five degree angle, their heads in the hallway and feet perfectly flat on the ground. The marble keeps rolling.


"What the shit just happened?" demands Bob, baffled.


"After it!" Athena replies and darts out the doorway. Bob springs out as well. Then Athena bolts back in, grabs you by the wrist, and exits again, pulling you along too.


Patrick


"Well," Lace replies, "we don't really have a loaner car. You want me to find you a Brat though? I have a guy in Atlanta who loves anything Subaru, and if he can't get you one, they don't exist. You want his number? He's good people. But that probably won't help you now." Then she pauses. "You mean the Challenger is your daily driver? That's, that's, that's, well, wow."


She thinks for a moment. After a bit, where in she looks you over several times as if to estimate your trustworthiness, she concludes, "I guess you can have the Stingray if you want. I just need to put the suspension back in, and I can have that done by this afternoon."


Then she shrugs. "Well, whatever. Certainly no Yugos around here. But you can have the '63 if you don't break it. But I mean no breaking it. None. No racing, no speeding, no-" At each thing you aren't allowed to do, she pokes you firmly in the chest with her grimy little finger. On cusp of the third admonition, with her poking finger held ready, she pauses, looking over your shoulder. When she turned to face you she moved so that she's facing the building, and now she seems confused by something.


After a second, you glance over your shoulder yourself. You see what she was looking at, but it certainly doesn't end your confusion.


First you notice Bob. Bob is right behind you, staring into your eyes. His mouth is hanging slightly open, one eyebrow is arched, and his head is cocked to the left. He looks like a dog confronted with a math problem. He's also a little too inside your personal space for comfort. Next to him (but further back) is Kase, the young gentlemen you met just a few minutes ago, who is carrying a two handed sword. Next to him is a dourly dressed woman staring at you with as utter and complete bewilderment as Bob, though she's managing to keep her mouth closed at least. You recognize her as the woman who darted past you to go inside earlier. Unconsciously she has one hand around Kase's arm, just beneath the bicep, and is holding him tightly. You've seen the same grip on your boat, when storms suddenly arise and you've got a charter full of people who are scared of the sea. She's holding on like Kase is an anchor. (This neglects the question of why people who're scared of the sea charter fishing boats, but on that I got nothing.) The woman is looking from your face to your feet.


Glancing down you see a small, whiteish marble resting against one of your shoes. It seems to have rolled there and come to a halt.

 

[lordofthestorm]

Kase was just as bewildered as any one of the group, though this could've been traced to the humongous two-handed sword he was now holding in his hand and Bob's reaction to the whole pulling a sword out of hell (at least, that was Kase's initial impression). The marble thing seemed like a triviality, but the way Athena and Bob were reacting just made things all the stranger...

 

[Persell]

Erin


The number goes directly to voicemail. Fairly non-informative message saying, "You have reached 555-1234. No one is available to take your call. Please leave a message at the beep."

 

[Arynne]

"Hi, Tink? This is Erin -- from the fencing class, remember? Something happened today, something strange. Like before, but bigger. I really need to talk to someone about it. And..." Erin hesitates, "...I think I might be about to be in real trouble, if that makes any sense. Call me back, please?" After leaving her number, she hangs up and returns to her bag.

 

[Persell]

Erin


After you hang up, you look around. There's another vague message on your computer. You're pretty sure you turned it off, and even more sure you're running Windows 95. Instead of a GUI you have a blank screen with neither cursor nor prompts. Instead there's dark green text that says, "I will never deny you, though you turn from me to the angels of the fallen gods. Morning comes, if you have the courage to rise and see the dawning sun."

 

[Arynne]

Swallowing hard, Erin approaches the computer, almost frightened of the noise her feet make on the floor. She stretches out a hand towards it, as if afraid to touch it, and then she types two words.


I will.

 

[Persell]

Spoiler

...Bob's reaction to the whole pulling a sword out of hell (at least' date=' that was Kase's initial impression). The marble thing seemed like a triviality, but the way Athena and Bob were reacting just made things all the stranger...[/quote']
Lord of the Storm: Ironically, this is not far from the truth.

Don't worry about the fact that nothing makes sense though. Athena and Bob were about to start explaining stuff, and now we're just waiting on Patrick's reaction to the lunacy. Hopefully we're coming up on a big reveal scene.

 

[Persell]

Erin


Instantly the doorbell chimes. It's almost as if the keyboard was wired to door. Involuntarily your head snaps over your shoulder and then back. The screen is blank. After a couple of seconds the bell rings again, and is followed by some knocking. A deep voice calls, "Erin Hagens? This is Officer Gherin of the Dare County Police. Are you there?" The words are firm but polite.

 

[Arynne]

Erin's hand shoots out and grabs her bag. She is halfway to the window where the fire escape is when she notices that without thinking, she has instinctively snatched up the bag with the swords in it instead.


That realization, and the memory of the words glowing on the screen a minute ago, makes her rethink her decision to run. Putting the bag down, she goes over to the wall and takes something down, feeling the solid weight of it in her hand. Hurrying over to the door, she squints through the peephole.


"Prove it!" Erin says, hoping her voice sounds sufficiently shaky and scared. "How do I know you're for real?"

 

[Persell]

Erin


"Ma'am, that's a legitimate question. Call nine one one and give them your address as well as my name. We have a warrant for your detention for the purposes of questioning. They'll confirm things. Do not attempt to run, because we do have all exits covered. Do not get a weapon. You are not under arrest. Call nine one one, or unlock the door. Do you understand?" he says slowly and loudly, and his voice travels clearly through the door.

 

[Arynne]

Speaking equally loudly (but still with a tremor in her voice), Erin says, "OK, I'm going to go call 9-1-1 now. If you are who you say you are, I'll let you in, all right? I gotta be careful -- like, oh my god, there were crazy people out there shooting at me and everything! I'm scared! I'm so scared...!"


She backs away from the door slowly as she speaks. In contrast with her voice, her face is a stony mask.


Swiftly, she peers out the windows, lifting one slat on the Venetian blinds cautiously before going to the phone and dialing the emergency number. Her mind is racing.

 

[Persell]

Erin


There are two police cars outside. Both are in the parking lot below. One looks to be unoccupied, while the other has two portly officers standing nearby. They're watching both the front doors and the fire exit.


The building itself is comprised of layers steadily rising towards the flat, eleventh story roof. It's a cheap building for locals to live in, as well as the seasonal help. Each tier has protruding windows, and lines of balconies. Those cost extra though, and you don't have one. The nearest balcony is about ten feet away, laterally. Each is ringed by a low, concrete wall that rises to waist height. The mid afternoon sun is very bright, and just descending from the zenith of the heavens.


The 911 operator takes your call, and calmly informs you that yes, the men outside are the police, and yes they have a warrant for your detention. She goes on to emphasize that you are not being arrested. She speaks very calmly, and is willing to respond to your questions. In all likelihood, someone is relaying this to the officers outside.


Your bag of fencing gear weighs perhaps thirty pounds. Most of that is the armor and padding. Your foils are much lighter, each one being less than three. Your computer sits on your desk. It seems to have come on again, but there is no interface again. Instead the cursor blinks on a blank screen.

 

[Arynne]

Erin swallows. Then she types:


If you're out there...if you're watching this...tell me what I should do.


No. I take that back. Show me what is the right thing to do. Whatever it is, I promise to do it.


I trust you.

 

[Persell]

Erin


Of course. Did I not warn you I would never leave you?


Get your weapon but only one. Go with the police, and make them bring your saber. Then go with them, and make sure they do not cuff you.