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cant cook creole bream
Aug 15, 2011
I think Fahrenheit is better for weather
You know, he might be kind of an rear end in a top hat, but you gotta give Measurehead credit for not half-assing his believes. It takes some guts to bring a phrenology model to a tattoo parlor and demand to copy that on the skull. Just imagine how stupid that must look like.
Also, to be fair, he is a really fit man. Mr Racist Lorry-Driver is less physically impressive.


Coach Physical Endurance seems more like Botchcop's forte tbqh.

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Arist
Feb 13, 2012

who, me?


cant cook creole bream posted:

You know, he might be kind of an rear end in a top hat, but you gotta give Measurehead credit for not half-assing his believes. It takes some guts to bring a phrenology model to a tattoo parlor and demand to copy that on the skull. Just imagine how stupid that must look like.
Also, to be fair, he is a really fit man. Mr Racist Lorry-Driver is less physically impressive.


Coach Physical Endurance seems more like Botchcop's forte tbqh.

You actually can't get Coach Physical Instrument unless you don't gently caress up the pétanque game, because it only comes from failing the normal boule throw. So Botchcop never had a chance, really. Just think of it as our personal trainer trying to help us be less of a dork.

Poil
Mar 17, 2007

Arist posted:

It’s suddenly occurred to me that I’m in my mid-20s and I’m spending my Christmas Eve transcribing a bunch of the racial essentialist rantings of a fictional character. Don't end up like me, kids.
I'm in my mid-30s and I'm spending an enjoyable part of my christmas eve evening night reading it. :toot:

Fish Noise
Jul 25, 2012

IT'S ME, BURROWS!

IT WAS ME ALL ALONG, BURROWS!
Kim :allears:

Poil posted:

I'm in my mid-30s and I'm spending an enjoyable part of my christmas eve evening night reading it. :toot:
saaame

Ibblebibble
Nov 12, 2013

Kim is my blood brother and I will die for him.

nonrev
Jul 15, 2012




Poil posted:

I'm in my mid-30s and I'm spending an enjoyable part of my christmas eve evening night reading it. :toot:

:same:

HomestarCanter
Oct 21, 2008

Strong Bad,
you're a horse's twees.

Poil posted:

I'm in my mid-30s and I'm spending an enjoyable part of my christmas eve evening night reading it. :toot:

Yo.

Glazius
Jul 22, 2007

Hail all those who are able,
any mouse can,
any mouse will,
but the Guard prevail.

Clapping Larry
Oh huh. Measurehead's a Revachol boy and a passionate defender of what he imagines the Semenese Islands to be? Missed that. But I suppose there's something about Revachol that makes you unsatisfied with the way it is.

kw0134
Apr 19, 2003

I buy feet pics🍆

Revachol sounds suspiciously familiar to the French revanche which is "revenge" and has a sordid history that leads, yeup, to World War I in our world. A conquered power whose glory days are well behind it? Hmm.

Or I could be reading too much into it. :shrug:

Arist
Feb 13, 2012

who, me?


Chapter 8: 19:07-20:36: These Pants Are A Burden



Well, let’s go see if we can find another way past Measurehead.



CALL ME MAÑANA: “Sorry. Busy surveying the situation.” He takes a swig from his flask. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. You guys gave all sorts of gadgets these days. Wire tapping. Telescopic batons. Futuristic circuit-bending to infiltrate harbour machinery. Maybe you could even knock that Kvalsund crane over using some remote controls…”



KIM KITSURAGI: “Because we don’t. We don’t have air support—or any of those other things.”
CALL ME MAÑANA: “I get it, hush-hush about the secret technology.” He pats the side of his nose with his index finger.



CALL ME MAÑANA: “First—don’t fight him. Obviously. Second, get him to share his theory by being *subordinate*. Admit your lack of expertise. Basically grovel. That’s how I’d do it,” he tips his beret and concludes: “You’re welcome.”
CONCEPTUALIZATION: [Easy: Success] Hmm… maybe that *would* work? We’ll have to see.



We never checked out the watermarks under the headlights, so let’s get on that.



KIM KITSURAGI: He turns the pre-heater on, waits, takes out his keys and says: “All right. Ready. I turn, you press START—it’s next to the pre-heater.”




COUPRIS KINEEMA: The lights unfold with a little click, casting electrical light onto the ground before the vehicle.




KIM KITSURAGI: “There she is: Revachol West.” There’s a note of pride in the lieutenant’s voice.




DAMAGED LEDGER: You catch a faint glimmer from a broken beer bottle. In the distance—sounds. Two men engaged in a drunken argument, followed by the closing of some distant window.



KIM KITSURAGI: “Let me see.” He takes the ledger for a moment and inspects it.











KIM KITSURAGI: “Those are *perforations*. They represent your record as an officer of the RCM. They’re your statistics, as it were. I should have guessed you keep a record, officers often do. Let’s take a look…”




KIM KITSURAGI: “Yes, that *does* seem quite likely. Your youth coincided with some heady days for Revachol. But let’s move on, shall we? This next row—the one that wraps all the way around—is your number of closed cases. *Closed* is good. It means finished. You’ve got, let’s see…”





KIM KITSURAGI: “For an RCM officer—especially Precinct 41, which is in the Jamrock Quarter—it’s rather… tame. I mean that in a good way. There are certain officers who treat their kills like some kind of ghoulish game. If they do happen to *solve* a case it’s usually by accident.” It’s obvious the lieutenant doesn’t think very highly of these officers…



KIM KITSURAGI: “Yes,” he says, declining to elaborate.



KIM KITSURAGI: “Everyone has their own method of coping, some more effective, or self-destructive, than others…” He gives you a meaningful look.



KIM KITSURAGI: “Why not gardening? You’ve already got the gloves…” He points at your yellow gardening gloves.




KIM KITSURAGI: “Right. I’ll go turn off the lights…” He presses a remote control on the key.



We put a point into Logic.



Here’s that tank top we found last update, by the way.



And here’s our Officer Profile, showing our statistics.



Let’s go check our ledger again.





Dammit.




CUNOESSE: “I’m going away for a long long time, Cuno. Going away for life!”



CUNOESSE: Stay away from me, pig—you don’t wanna see what happens when you corner me.”





KIM KITSURAGI: “Probably some kids...” The lieutenant inspects the rigged slot.



COIN-OPERATED VIEWER: A thick layer of graffito covers the lenses—you spell out the word “ONUC” written on the other side—with N and C scribbled backwards.



COIN-OPERATED VIEWER: Under the graffito a sea of blues and greys appears—behind the water lies a coast studded with concrete and reeds. On it—a church on stilts, lanky weather-worn wooden planks, an x-shaped cross topping its tower.
INLAND EMPIRE: The church looks old and weather-worn. There are no lights in the windows.

Let’s inspect the other viewer now.








Probably not the best idea when I’m about to die on the street, but what the hey.




COIN-OPERATED VIEWER: The lenses shift, the ghost sharpens into an islet in the bay. In the runs a man-made structure is visible: a half-sunken sea-fort, its concrete almost reconquered by nature. It looks as if it was abandoned quite some time ago, nothing but a rotten tooth remains of the anti-aircraft tower. A lonely birch tree grows out of it.






This late in the day, the Whirling-In-Rags is busier. We’re not here to talk, though.



There’s plenty of bottles we can pick up in our room, if you recall.





KIM KITSURAGI: He takes a step toward the door. Like he’d like to leave.

After picking up all those bottles, we head back over to the suspicious Scab Leader for more tips on Measurehead.



SCAB LEADER: He smirks. “Not before you get in there and get your rear end whooped. Learn by failure, I always say.”



Well, that didn’t help much.









INLAND EMPIRE: Yes! Buy something nice! A figurine.




KIM KITSURAGI: “Franconigerian knights.” He looks at the dusty figurines in the dim light. “I used to be very serious about these guys.”







BIRD’S NEST ROY: “You’re probably talking about the revolutionaries, yes?” the man behind the glass answers. “Yes—they are soldiers. Revolutionary soldiers.”



BIRD’S NEST ROY: “Maybe.”






BIRD’S NEST ROY: “The Headless FALN Rider. It’s an urban legend—about a man who rides the streets of Revachol sporting a FALN tracksuit. As you can see, he’s missing his head.” He points at the decapitated figurine.





Neat.



SHELF OF BOOMBOXES: One especially catches your eye. Deep gold and amber plastic with a big old handle on top. A classic boombox that says: “STEREO 8 approved.”
INLAND EMPIRE: This is you. Gold and orange. A sunset suite.



BIRD’S NEST ROY: “If police work means playing tapes, sure. You can use it for that. Or any other time you’d need to play a tape.”






drat, can’t afford it at the moment. Something to remember for later, you suppose.




BIRD’S NEST ROY: “What can I do for you?” he asks.



BIRD’S NEST ROY: “Oh, no, not at all.” He flashes a smile. “I guess I haven’t had many customers lately, RCM or otherwise.”
KIM KITSURAGI: “Who are your customers usually?”
BIRD’S NEST ROY: “All kinds of people come through here… Locals, travellers. People looking for a deal. People looking for a keepsake. People who are terminally bored.”







BIRD’S NEST ROY: “Why on earth?” He staggers away from the glass, but quickly recomposes himself. “These are prescription. I can’t really see without them.”
EMPATHY: [Medium: Success] There’s a note of indignation in his voice. Interesting.



BIRD’S NEST ROY: He hesitates. “I was… I was with the Emergency Relief Brigade. You know, after the People’s Pile disaster.” He coughs, as if to mark his words. “Had to take Pyrholidon for radiation sickness. That’s what you were hinting at just now, wasn’t it?”




BIRD’S NEST ROY: He points at the white triangle on his orange safety jacket. “We were an all-volunteer force, self-organized. Tried to help fire brigades contain the spill. I lived by the river since I was a small boy. The Esperance… didn’t have the heart to let it all go to poo poo without trying to *do* something, to help out.”



BIRD’S NEST ROY: He hesitates. “There’s a reason why everyone’s tried to forget any of it ever happened, and why no one has tried to repair or replace the Pile.”



BIRD’S NEST ROY: “No one’s, everyone’s… He sighs and shakes his head.
EMPATHY: [Easy: Success] So much bitterness.



BIRD’S NEST ROY: The clean-up happened fifteen years ago. I was young then. Later my second aunt died, left me this shack and the assorted junk in it. So I came to Martinaise. People told me don’t go there, it’s a *poo poo-hole*. I said: people, we just had a *nuclear pile meltdown*. I’m gonna get as far from Fauborg as I can. Still in the same city, but…” He shrugs.



BIRD’S NEST ROY: “I like theory more than story. Outward movement, not vortices.”





BIRD’S NEST ROY: “The corpse behind the hostel, I assume…” He looks into the swirling lights, then to you: “I don’t have a truck with a mounted platform or anything of that sort myself...”




BIRD’S NEST ROY: “Someone else came here earlier today asking the same question—I promptly sold her the gun you pawned a couple days back.”
LOGIC: [Medium: Success] This is a pawn shop… And it *did* feel as if you’ve met before. Oh god…



BIRD’S NEST ROY: “You, uhh…”
VOLITION: [Medium: Success] With Kim here too?! That just sounded really, really bad.
BIRD’S NEST ROY: “You were adamant about getting rid of it, officer.” He hesitates. “Said you were *undeserving* of a service weapon of the Revachol Citizen’s Militia. And I don’t like keeping guns around the shop for long. Off-the-charts photon emissions. The unhealthy kind.”




BIRD’S NEST ROY: “You were very distraught. You said the gun was a threat to your life, and… that you can’t *trust* yourself with it tonight. And you need the money. When I said that I don’t normally buy firearms, you put the gun barrel in your mouth and sort of… sucked on it. Then I agreed to take it.”



BIRD’S NEST ROY: “15 reál.”
KIM KITSURAGI: The lieutenant looks from you to Roy and then back to you. It’s clear that he hopes this tableau might still turn out to be a bad dream—it’s not, though.
ESPRIT DE CORPS: [Medium: Success] This has got to be the most… wow…




BIRD’S NEST ROY: “She didn’t seem like a policeman, although she kept referring to herself as a *Pig*. Which was odd. I found her interest in the gun a bit.. obsessive. But I was just happy to get rid of it. And of her. Truth be told, she was terrifying.”
KIM KITSURAGI: “Right, so let me get this right,” the lieutenant turns to you, “you sold your sidearm, issued by the Citizens Militia, and now a civilian is running around the streets of Martinaise with it.”




BIRD’S NEST ROY: “My apologies, officer, but I have no idea where she was coming from or where she went.”




That went about as poorly as it could have.



SAWED-OFF STREET LIGHT: The light pole has been carefully cut, and the wiring has been redone and attached to a standard indoor plug. The light buzzes faintly but persistently.



BIRD’S NEST ROY: “Yes, officer. As you can see, it’s in perfect working order.”



BIRD’S NEST ROY: “It was brought to me to be altered.”
KIM KITSURAGI: He leans in so the pawnbroker wouldn’t hear him. “We’re not here to investigate the theft of city property.”





You know instantly that you will not find enough money to purchase this street light even if you actually wanted to.



Let’s talk to Kim.





KIM KITSURAGI: “Well, sort of. It’s less a matter of who *gets* to police Martinaise than who *has* to. It’s an orphan district, in other words… I think the dispatch desk just told both our stations about the hanging. There was quite the brouhaha at the 57th, I can tell you that. Time to *settle it*, they said, *Cop Off*. But…” He leans in: “I assure you, I am not their *finest* or *toughest*, with *one-hundred-and-two cases solved*. What I am is *least interested in a pissing competition*.”







KIM KITSURAGI: “I agree. Too dark.”






Fuckin’ snake eyes, goddammit!



Well, let’s head back to Measurehead for now.






*sigh* Let’s give it a shot, I guess.



I like how Kim reaches for his gun. He’s got our back.







Looks like Kim’s got something to say to us.








You already said that.

KIM KITSURAGI: He nods. “Let’s think of something else.”



Well, I don’t want to subscribe to Measurehead’s ideology, so we should probably see if we can’t find that other route.



Behind the Whirling-In-Rags, we find whatever this is. Also, if you look closely, you’ll notice that we appear to have fused with Kim into one, unstoppable Hypercop.










KIM KITSURAGI: “Perhaps not?” He looks at you. “This is below our pay grade, detective. However…” He points to the ladder in the corner. “See that *ladder* there? It’s probably another way into the industrial harbour, no? A secret path the local kids use.”

You’re so smart, Kim.







We end up on the roof of the office next to Mañana.

KIM KITSURAGI: “Yes. It’s probably yours. It bares the RCM insignia and you have a bad habit of being careless with your equipment…” He judges the drop.




EMPATHY: The look in his eyes is a mix of the engineer-like interest and the wonder of a six-year-old seeing a horse for the first time.



KIM KITSURAGI: “Is it?” He looks at you, impressed. “Kvalsund makes a lot of heavy equipment, but this is phenomenal even for them.”



KIM KITSURAGI: “I was under the impression we could ask the leader of the union to help us get this body down. This is why we’re here, right?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer. He looks around, wind rustling his hair. “Or it could be that we’re just *exploring*.”



KIM KITSURAGI: “The cloak? I *do* think it’s yours, yes. As to whether you should go for it...” He looks over the ledge, at the cold pavement below. “Well, it doesn’t seem too dangerous—two metres tops. Whenever you’re ready to do it, I’ll be right behind you.”




Ugh, not liking these odds. What to do?

If we want to make this jump, we could always…




...take our pants and shoes off!



Much better chance of success now.








SAVOIR FAIRE: As the concrete floor welcomes you, you realize it’s been a while since you felt so alive, alert, capable. Must be the adrenaline.
KIM KITSURAGI: “I knew you could do it!” The lieutenant exclaims. “My climbing down might not have been as disco as your jump, but at least we can explore the harbour now.”

Thanks, Kim! Wait, you climbed down? Laaaaaaame.



And we've finally entered the harbour.

Arist
Feb 13, 2012

who, me?


Two things: first, this update was a little weird because I incorrectly assumed at the start I wouldn't have a ton of time for the harbour so I spent most of it running around trying to waste time so I could do it on Day 2. It ended up not being an issue at all, but that's why I initially ignore the pile of roofing material and just try to exhaust a lot of small possibilities instead.

Second:

Hwurmp posted:

All Cops Are Botchcops

I'm making this the new thread title, it's just too good and I was never married to the current one.

Night10194
Feb 13, 2012

We'll start,
like many good things,
with a bear.

Sailing through the air like a glorious eagle on a pogo stick. Pantsless and free.

cant cook creole bream
Aug 15, 2011
I think Fahrenheit is better for weather
Jumping two meters, with a drop of more than two meters is not that impressive, honestly. On the other hand, he seems to have jumped twice the necessary distance.

GuyUpNorth
Apr 29, 2014

Witty phrases on random basis
It checks Savoir-Faire. Gotta do things in style after all.

Yeowch!!! My Balls!!!
May 31, 2006

cant cook creole bream posted:

Jumping two meters, with a drop of more than two meters is not that impressive, honestly. On the other hand, he seems to have jumped twice the necessary distance.

counterpoint: have you seen this guy

DivineCoffeeBinge
Mar 3, 2011

Spider-Man's Amazing Construction Company
Kim remains the best. ACABEK.

Hwurmp
May 20, 2005

Arist posted:

I'm making this the new thread title, it's just too good and I was never married to the current one.

All Cops Are Botchcops (Except One)

Glazius
Jul 22, 2007

Hail all those who are able,
any mouse can,
any mouse will,
but the Guard prevail.

Clapping Larry
Oh, interesting. There's quite a few hints to deal with Measurehead, one way or the other, but I can't think of many if any for the back way in. Maybe there are some passives?

Hwurmp
May 20, 2005

There's hardly any dialogue pointing to them, but the eternite wall and your coat are things you can easily stumble upon just exploring the area.

Ibblebibble
Nov 12, 2013

I actually found the shack before I went around the side with Mañana and Measurehead, so you don't actually have to talk to them at all to get into the harbour.

The Lone Badger
Sep 24, 2007

I accidentally broke into the harbour long before I had a reason to go there, and spent a lot of time trying to get back out.

Fish Noise
Jul 25, 2012

IT'S ME, BURROWS!

IT WAS ME ALL ALONG, BURROWS!

Arist posted:

Well, I don’t want to subscribe to Measurehead’s ideology
this sounds like a job for botchcop

look!

The Lone Badger posted:

I accidentally broke into the harbour long before I had a reason to go there, and spent a lot of time trying to get back out.
the thread itself is beginning to resonate with botch energy

Golden Bee
Dec 24, 2009

I came here to chew bubblegum and quote 'They Live', and I'm... at an impasse.
Can you show what happens when you subscribe to the theory? Nobody does in their playthrough.

Xarn
Jun 26, 2015
I did. You get some extra dialogue options and Kim slightly disapproves, but you can just tell him that you are doing it for the case :shrug:

e: IIRC you can then also talk with him about getting sober, which is a good idea.

Xarn fucked around with this message at 08:49 on Dec 28, 2019

Xander77
Apr 6, 2009

Fuck it then. For another pit sandwich and some 'tater salad, I'll post a few more.



Golden Bee posted:

Can you show what happens when you subscribe to the theory? Nobody does in their playthrough.
Not going to spoil the results, but:
You can still knock Measurehead out after acquiring the thought but before you internalize it. So you get all the effects of having it in your headspace, including additional dialog options.

There are also some extra dialog options with Measurehead if you internalize the thought (which is the exception rather than the rule - having the thought is generally enough, even if it's not internalized).

Teriyaki Koinku
Nov 25, 2008

Bread! Bread! Bread!

Bread! BREAD! BREAD!

Xander77 posted:

Not going to spoil the results, but:
You can still knock Measurehead out after acquiring the thought but before you internalize it. So you get all the effects of having it in your headspace, including additional dialog options.

There are also some extra dialog options with Measurehead if you internalize the thought (which is the exception rather than the rule - having the thought is generally enough, even if it's not internalized).

What does it mean to 'internalize' a thought? As in, you become a true-believer then? That sounds like a no-go for me.

Taberquol
Jun 16, 2012

I’ve been thinking of it as an impulse or bias.

Xander77
Apr 6, 2009

Fuck it then. For another pit sandwich and some 'tater salad, I'll post a few more.



Teriyaki Koinku posted:

What does it mean to 'internalize' a thought? As in, you become a true-believer then? That sounds like a no-go for me.
That's not quite it.

When you start the game, it's very tempting to think of your headspace as an "inventory" where you can keep a bunch of thoughts, and "internalized" thoughts as "equipped". After all, only internalized thoughts actually affect your stats, so you might as well get as many thoughts as possible just to have a lot of options, right?

Except that's not how that works. Once you've accepted a thought into your thought cabinet, even if you haven't internalized it, it will still affect your dialog options, and other characters will know that's a thing you believe about the world (if that's one of those thoughts they actually care about enough to notice).

Not sure what would be an appropriate image to convey what internalizing a thought actually does.

Ibblebibble
Nov 12, 2013

I see internalising a thought as thinking about it enough to have a more concrete opinion on the subject than "sounds good" or "sounds bad". True believer status not entirely necessary.

Yvonmukluk
Oct 10, 2012

Everything is Sinister


Teriyaki Koinku posted:

What does it mean to 'internalize' a thought? As in, you become a true-believer then? That sounds like a no-go for me.

You can remove an internalized thought, I think it's just a case of it costs a skill point. In this case you're doing what El Manana suggested - temporarily buying in to Measurehead's theories to speak to him on his level and get him to let you past.

Nordick
Sep 3, 2011

Yes.

kw0134 posted:

Revachol sounds suspiciously familiar to the French revanche which is "revenge" and has a sordid history that leads, yeup, to World War I in our world. A conquered power whose glory days are well behind it? Hmm.

Or I could be reading too much into it. :shrug:

I can almost guarantee you that is at least one element behind the name. The devs have put an immense amount of thought into building this world, and I remember them specifically mentioning names for things and places as something they thought about especially hard.

Arist
Feb 13, 2012

who, me?


Chapter 9: 20:36-21:45: Crane Games



First thing we do is put our goddamn pants and shoes back on.



Then, we pick up our cloak.




It’s straight-up better than what we were wearing before, so we put it on.








KIM KITSURAGI: “Yes,” the lieutenant agrees. “This scene isn’t exactly ripping with joy. Let’s just move on.”



Before we move on, we pick up all these drat bottles. Past me was a litterbug, but hey, more tare for now me!



KIM KITSURAGI: “If you must.” The lieutenant looks around. “But please hurry—we’re pretty easy to spot up here.”










KIM KITSURAGI: “It’s *unfortunate* for the Union to just leave their paperwork lying around like this…”




FILE CABINET: Hundreds of documents containing logistical data. Two kinds of transactions stand out: materials coming into Revachol from the outside world—from Mundi, Graad, and even Iilmaraa…






FILE CABINET: It appears to be a to-do list written in large, uneven capital letters: REMEMBER, LEO! * EVRART’S SHOES * SPECIAL WHIRLING BORSCHT * WATER EVRART’S PLANTS * SWEEP OFFICE FLOOR * MORE BANNERS



KIM KITSURAGI: “Evrart Claire, probably—the head of the Débardeurs Union.” He inspects the note. “One of his aides must have left it. Nothing incriminating here.”









Ooh, nice shades.





You cannot return to the streets without a passcard. Your only option, it seems, is to forge further ahead into the harbour.







It’s so loving LOUD why did you DO this everyone knows you’re here now IDIOT




INLAND EMPIRE: Who can say? All you know is—it’s special.








KIM KITSURAGI: “You just picked one out, because you wanted to interact with a cargo container.”




CARGO CONTAINER DOOR: You attempt to turn the handle, to no avail. The doors seem to be mechanically locked.








Well, we already alerted the entire drat Union, what’s the harm in talking to this gentleman?



CONCEPTUALIZATION: [Medium: Success] The lyrics to this container-song are being made up as he goes along.
ENCYCLOPEDIA: [Easy: Success] The accent is so thick it’s impossible not to notice he’s Ubi. From the vanishing peninsula of Ubi Sunt? (sic) on Mundi.



EASY LEO: “Evrart, Evrart, Evrart, he looks after everyone. Huh… well, hey there!” He smiles. “How can I help you, mister?”
EMPATHY: [Medium: Success] The look in his deep blue eyes is as sincere as you’ve ever seen. Kind of makes you feel like an rear end in a top hat for no apparent reason.

Eh, that’s pretty normal.



EASY LEO: “I mean, I don’t personally mind, folks is just folks, you know—and folks gotta eat…” He doesn’t seem to be waiting for you to answer.



EASY LEO: “Oh yes, born and raised in Iraesh, mister. Mum had to leave my dad after he got a bitviolent, took us here to the New New World. I was about ten then, too old to lose my accent then… People say us Ubis are up to all sorts of trouble with sheep and other animals and what not—I just want you to know there was *never* any of that where I come from. No sir. Those are just nasty rumours.”










EASY LEO: “Oh, most of the guys are down at the gates, keeping the scabs from coming in...” He leans in with a confidential look… “We’re on a *strike*--the whole union is! You don’t have to work when you’re on strike. Ha—we haven’t worked for two months now.”
KIM KITSURAGI: “So *no one* is working?”
EASY LEO: “Not everyone is down there of course,” he chuckles,” Mr. Evrart is in his office, where he always is, and Jean-Luc is guarding the gate…” He pauses to think.



EASY LEO: “Oh… I’m not really supposed to talk about that. That’s Union business.” He smiles and leans closer.



EASY LEO: “I guess the boys got a bit too rowdy and had to let out some steam. I don’t really know the details. That’s just how boys are you know…” Another chuckle. “I haven’t been in a fight since I was in middle-school…”



Sorry, Kim. Gotta know about this sweet middle school fight.

EASY LEO: “I remember I was the runt of the class.” He laughs merrily. “The bigger boys always used to pick on me. You see, I had a bit of a temper back in the day, flew off the handle like nobody’s business… But Mr. Evrart and his brother always came to help. Once they beat old Noel Becker so bad he needed stitches on his head…” He chuckles again. “Noel never started another fight with anyone after this. Mr. Evrart and Mr. Edgar are real nice guys, mister. You should go talk to Mr. Evrart—I’m sure you’ll be good friends. He’s friends with everyone around here.” The little guy starts coughing.



EASY LEO: “Yes-yes, everybody needs a job and this is mine. I’m Leonard, by the way, Leonard Bellec, but everyone calls me Leo.” The little man raises his hand in a welcoming gesture. I’m like Mr. Evrart’s right-hand man, when Mr. Edgar is out of town—and Mr. *Edgar’s* right hand man when Mr. Evrart is away!” He chuckles. Actually, Miss Beaufort is the right-hand man, but she’s a lay-dee,” a goodhearted chuckle again.
KIM KITSURAGI: “Who is this Miss Beaufort?” The lieutenant looks up at Leo.
EASY LEO: “A real pretty lady with a skin like those ‘Doux & Sucre’ candy bars my missus likes so much. Them are real nice to suckle on once the dinner is done and me and the missus sit down besides the radio. But I can’t listen to the radio all the time There’s so much to do around here and I’m always busy keeping things running here. Yes I am, yes I am.”



EASY LEO: “Oh, Lizzy? She is a real sharp tool. Mr. Evrart put her through some fancy school and everything, east of the river. Four years she was gone and when she came back she was all fancy and *law-yerly*. But she’s a real nice girl, grew up in this here neighbourhood, knows everybody and gets along with everyone, real pillar of the community one day, I’m sure.”
EMPATHY: [Medium: Success] For a fraction of a second there’s sadness in his eyes.
EASY LEO: He goes on: “If me missus and me was to have a child I’d be real happy if she turned out like her… But she can’t have kids. Doctor Lemaitre said so, and she knows about such things. Been a doctor for almost fifty years, she has…” He sighs and falls silent, watching you meekly with his blue blue eyes.



KIM KITSURAGI: “Yes, this place really seems to run like clockwork. Keep it up, Leo.” The lieutenant smiles at the little man.
EASY LEO: “Well thanks a lot, coming from you it means a lot, really.” You didn’t think it was possible, but the smile becomes even wider. “Sometimes I feel some of the guys don’t really get how much I bust my rear end for them here, but you guys are all right.”




EASY LEO: “Oh yes, I’ve been taking special Whirling borscht to the men every day since the strike started.” The little guy chuckles merrily.





EASY LEO: “Oh sure, mister… sure.” The little guy nods. “You do that, yes sir.”



EASY LEO: “Oh that one…” He looks at the container. “That should be empty as far as I know. Lots of containers her have nothing in them. They’re just waiting to be loaded up.”



EASY LEO: “Oh, you want Mr. Evrart, then. He’s an awfully nice fellow, he is. Him and his brother are both nice fellows—they’ve lived their entire lives in this here neighbourhood.” He coughs, then continues immediately…





Well, that guy could certainly talk.



Evrart leaves at 22? It’s 21:45 right now, so we better hustle. Next time, we’re finally, finally seeing Evrart Claire.

Arist fucked around with this message at 03:55 on Dec 31, 2019

Glazius
Jul 22, 2007

Hail all those who are able,
any mouse can,
any mouse will,
but the Guard prevail.

Clapping Larry
...I really shouldn't be surprised that Leo tells you to hurry up and see Mr. Claire if it's after a certain time, but this game just reacts to pretty much everything.

sullat
Jan 9, 2012

Glazius posted:

...I really shouldn't be surprised that Leo tells you to hurry up and see Mr. Claire if it's after a certain time, but this game just reacts to pretty much everything.

Would suck if you didn't manage to talk to him by the time he left, that's for sure.

Tylana
May 5, 2011

Pillbug
Just posting to say thanks for making this LP! I've played the game a bit up to day 3 but need to find time where my brain works and enjoys things to pick it back up. Interesting to see the variations though. I went for 2/2/2/6 so super Motorics. It's a little less obvious but sometimes Interfacing is supernatural just like EspritdeCorps and Shivers. I forget if Int has a spooky skill.

But yeah, I'd never have seen the failed attempt to run from your bill as hilarious levels of Savour Faire. But you get another option with the sleeping guy if your fingers are light enough.

Still kind of impressed at both how lovely parts of the world and it's people can be without being a nihilistic joke. With possible exceptions.

V. Illych L.
Apr 11, 2008

ASK ME ABOUT LUMBER

kw0134 posted:

Revachol sounds suspiciously familiar to the French revanche which is "revenge" and has a sordid history that leads, yeup, to World War I in our world. A conquered power whose glory days are well behind it? Hmm.

Or I could be reading too much into it. :shrug:

almost certainly the name is a reference to the anarchist Ravachol, who went around chucking bombs into the posh cafes of paris. he had a song made for him on the meter of the carmagnole which should be findable online somewhere

Xarn
Jun 26, 2015

sullat posted:

Would suck if you didn't manage to talk to him by the time he left, that's for sure.

I think that you can just find the card if he is not there.

You should still meet him though, the character is great.

ModernMajorGeneral
Jun 25, 2010

V. Illych L. posted:

almost certainly the name is a reference to the anarchist Ravachol, who went around chucking bombs into the posh cafes of paris. he had a song made for him on the meter of the carmagnole which should be findable online somewhere

La Ravachole, by anarchist Sebastien Faure. A very appropriate name for a revolutionary city.

Arist
Feb 13, 2012

who, me?


Chapter 10: 21:45-23:17: Big Boss Man






And here we are, finally faced with Evrart Claire himself.



EVRART CLAIRE: “Welcome, Mr. Du Bois, Mr. Kitsuragi. It’s good of you two to stop by. Please, have a seat.” He gestures to a *tiny* chair opposite his desk. “I’m Evrart, Evrart Claire, head of the Débardeurs’ Union here in Martinaise.” The man relaxes into his chair and continues: “I’d offer you my hand, but unfortunately my health prevents me from getting up. You understand.”
COMPOSURE: [Easy: Success] He looks extremely comfortable. The tiny folding chair, on the other hand, looks like a torture device.
KIM KITSURAGI: “You go ahead, detective.” The lieutenant nods at you, then the chair.
ESPRIT DE CORPS: [Easy: Success] Whatever he has in store for you, it can’t be good, he thinks. I’ll do my best.




EVRART CLAIRE: “Very well, Mr. Du Bois. I respect a man with strong convictions…” As he nods, his multiple chins move like ocean waves. “I, too, have convictions, one of which is that I will not engage any man who won’t face me at *eye level*. Should you find yourself more amenable in the future, I’d gladly resume our conversation. But until then, I’m afraid I must ask you to leave.” He turns back to his typewriter.




EVRART CLAIRE: “So tell me, how can the head of the Débardeurs’ Union help a representative of the Revachol Citizens Militia today?”



EVRART CLAIRE: “Oh, by the way, I heard you got a rather rude reception from a certain… Lawrence *Garte*. Some people have no manners, it pains me to say.” “*This* should take care of that nonsense.” He points to a giant novelty cheque on his desk—it’s absolutely, comically huge. “It should be sufficient to cover your expenses for a few days and patch over your differences with the cafeteria manager. Go ahead, take it.” He points at it again.



EVRART CLAIRE: “Yes, I know Lawrence. He’s a real character—no Union man in him. A real piece of work, that boy is.”



EVRART CLAIRE: “Is there anything you’d like to say to me, or…?”



EVRART CLAIRE: “*Cool*? I wouldn’t go that far. I’m sure there are cooler things than delivering a comically oversized novelty cheque to a cafeteria manager, but, sure… if that’s what’s cool nowadays."

Wait… he just admitted it’s ridiculous. He’s clearly trying to humiliate you, and you walked right into it, dumbass.

EVRART CLAIRE: “Now, I’d like to set your mind at ease about one other matter: your *lost gun*. Let me assure you, Union people are on it as we speak. I’ve got my best hounds looking for that *lost gun*.” His slug-like lips move, but all you hear is an echo: lost gun, lost gun, lost gun…



EVRART CLAIRE: “I know *everything*, Harry. Rught now I know that you’re worried. Don’t be worried. Everything’s going to be alright. It’s not like you left it loaded. You didn’t lose a *loaded gun*. Local children aren’t out there playing with it right now, pointing it into their own mouths… It’s in a safe place. I just know it. I have a feeling everything’s going to be alright.”



KIM KITSURAGI: “Officer, we will deal with this later. We don’t need Mr. Claire’s help with this.”




We fail the check.



EVRART CLAIRE: “*Mr. Du Bois*, you don’t look so good…”




EVRART CLAIRE: “Mr. Du Bois… Are you okay? Can I get you a glass of water or something? Are you having some kind of medical emergency?”



KIM KITSURAGI: “Don’t be dramatic. I can see your condition isn’t terminal.”
EVRART CLAIRE: “What an odd demonstration of… huh, you got me, Harry… I don’t even know *what*. As entertaining as it was, I’m afraid we’re wasting our time, and I’m an extremely busy man, as I’m sure you are too.”
KIM KITSURAGI: “Okay, enough! We are here to ask you some questions pertaining to a murder investigation.”
REACTION SPEED: [Easy: Success] Quick, here’s your window! Get yourself together and ask him questions! Police officer questions!




EVRART CLAIRE: “Rubbish, Harry, rubbish! I mean look at you!” He raises his hands towards you. “For your age you are obviously in the peaks of physical condition. A real silverback!”



EVRART CLAIRE: “Of course, let us dispatch with the formalities. You call me Evrart, I call you Harry!



EVRART CLAIRE: “My god, so it’s true! I didn’t want to believe it, but you *are* a fantastic science-fiction amnesiac cop, aren’t you?” He shrugs with an amazed expression. “What are the odds of that?”



EVRART CLAIRE: “I assure you, there’s nothing to be ashamed of, Harry. You’re among friends and the good news is…” He taps on the folder in front of him. “I have a big fat folder on you, Harry. I’m sure you have a lot of questions to ask—maybe I can help you out? I’m sure you had some concerns you thought I might be able to address,” he pauses to look down at a brown folder on his desk. “And you were probably right—I can.”
KIM KITSURAGI: “Are you trying to tell me you’ve gotten hold of some of our documents?” The lieutenant inspects Evrart over his spectacles.
EVRART CLAIRE: “Mr. Kitsuragi, would you mind?” His eyes never leave yours. “Me and Harry are talking about lost identity right now.”



EVRART CLAIRE: “It’s Harry…” He glances at the folder. “Harry Du Bois.”
INLAND EMPIRE: [Challenging: Success] You feel like a *Du Bois*, but you don’t feel like a *Harry*. Strange.



EVRART CLAIRE: “Fine, Harry.” He waves you off. “You can be Harry Raphael Du Bois De Costeau—or whatever you *choose* to be.”
KIM KITSURAGI: The lieutenant covers his face and sighs audibly.



He’s trying to play you, trying to turn you against Kim! Don’t fall for it!







EVRART CLAIRE: “Ah, this?” He closes the folder. My friends in the organization gave it to me, Harry.”
KIM KITSURAGI: “I find that very suspicious. May I have a look?”






KIM KITSURAGI: “I’m sure it’s not that bad,” the lieutenant whispers. “At worst he has an old RCM folder, and I very much doubt even that.”




KIM KITSURAGI: “You might have noticed there’s one hanging on a tree behind the hostel cafeteria.”
EVRART CLAIRE: “Oh my…” He smiles pleasantly. “Don’t take this question personally, but *why* would I get involved in this matter?”
KIM KITSURAGI: “Mr. Claire. The man was hanged with a cargo belt. A steel reinforced cargo belt. It’s safe to assume the Union had *something* to do with the murder.”



EVRART CLAIRE: “I can certainly see how having him up there might start affecting *some* real estate values. He licks his fat lips and smiles. “But of course, all joking aside, I *am* going to help you.” He picks up the handset of a radio-phone to his right—then clicks a button. “Jean-Luc, my boy. I’m sending two police officers down. They have a dead-body-in-a-tree problem they need help with. Namely, they need it to be taken *down*. And, Jean… please take it easy with the race science. That’s a *yes* to getting the body down, *no* to the race science.” He hangs up and turns back to you.



EVRART CLAIRE: “Yes. Your lost gun.” His face turns serious. “My best men are on it. They’re turning every stone, searching every playground, asking kids, grandmas, everyone. Your gun *will* be found, Harry. Let me assure you of that.” He winks at you. “It’s just a matter of time and… *effort*.




EVRART CLAIRE: “Yes, thank you for the *hot tip* regarding your lost fun Harry. My men have indeed” – he makes air quotes – “*factored in that you pawned it*. Now please… let the professionals do their job. Kick back, Harry, relax! I have *great guys* on this. You focus on what’s important—building our relationship for the good of Martinaise.”



EVRART CLAIRE: “Harry, Harry—I was only trying to be tactful. A lost gun is a dangerous thing. I can’t have it around in my neighborhood.” His tone is suddenly very serious. “Kids could be playing gun-roulette with it as we speak. Teenage gangs could be arming themselves. Get a hold of yourself, Harry!”
KIM KITSURAGI: “I assure you, we are working on locating the missing sidearm as well.”
ESPRIT DE CORPS: The lieutenant is concerned about the lost gun and feels that the fact you haven’t prioritized looking for it is unfortunate, if inevitable, and doesn’t put the RCM in a good light.



EVRART CLAIRE: :”Oh, of course. That’s your main thing, here. That’s *why* you’re in Martinaise.” He nods. “I know everything that goes on around here. And I would *love* to help you, like I’m helping you with the body and your lost gun…”



EVRART CLAIRE: “But I *can’t* think straight with this thing weighing on me…” Suddenly, he slaps himself on the forehead. "You’re police officers, aren’t you? I have a crazy idea. You guys are basically door-opening machines. Incredibly talented at opening doors.”



KIM KITSURAGI: “I’m not sure I understand.” He looks to the Union boss. “If you’re asking us to break down someone’s door, it’s not going to happen.”



EVRART CLAIRE: “Harry, I’m a very busy man and, more importantly, I don’t have that extraordinary physique you do.” He slams his fists together. “You look like you could run around all day!”

And you do!

KIM KITSURAGI: “You want to send someone a message that the police are working for you.”




EVRART CLAIRE: “A loud blabbering weasel. When weasels feel no one is watching, they start acting *foolishly…*” He removes his glasses and rubs his nose.




EVRART CLAIRE: “Fantastic, my friend! Just let me know when it’s done and we can take our friendship to the next level.” He flicks his fingers. You can get the key from Mañana—he’s down by the gates. Mañana’s like a free agent in the Union. Special operations. Hardened socialist. A real free-thinker too. He’ll tell you precisely where the door is.” He smiles obviously satisfied with how well he planned it all out. “One last thing, Harry.”



EVRART CLAIRE: “I don’t know what that means, Harry. Shady brew? There are so many moving parts in my operation I can’t keep track of them all… You know what? Don’t even tell me. Whatever it is—do it. Surprise me!” He reconsiders. “Just one thing… if you can, make it even *shadier*.”




EVRART CLAIRE: “Harry, you smooth-talking son of a bitch,” he says with the fondest of smiles. “Time is a precious resource and I don’t have enough of it to count containers with you.”





What is it with everyone in the Union and loving the sound of their own voice?



We are now the ultimate Sorrycop. The bonus for Rigorous Self-Critique is honestly one of the best in the game, letting us recoup Health and Morale for failing Red Checks. They’re not that common, but it’s still really handy. Also, we’re currently out of thought cabinet slots. We’ll have to spend skill points to get more in the future.





Again, if you try to cash this, you’ll be humiliated. Not that that’s ever stopped you before.



Kim wants to talk again.








Remember how Leo said Evrart leaves at 22:00? Well, it became 22:00 while we were talking to him. I believe this thought is a vestige of us not having the pass card at that point. When it passed over to 22:00, this thought appeared along with the pass card, which probably disappeared when we got our card from Evrart. This is all speculation, but it’s fascinating to me because it’s one of the only times I’ve seen the scripting “break” in this game.





Sure, try it you maniac.





KIM KITSURAGI: “Now is not the time to get philosophical, detective. You can do that after hours.”



Mañana is gone for the night, along with the scabs, meaning we can’t get the key yet. Measurehead is still guarding the gate in perpetuity, but we’ll talk to him about getting the corpse down tomorrow.






GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANANGER: “As a police officer, you must understand that I cannot take you at your word—without *evidence*.”



GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANANGER: “Good luck trying to use it.” He taps his foot against a metal box installed in the back of the counter.
INTERFACING: [Medium: Success] Draconian measures…



GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANANGER: “Not until you bring me the money.”
KIM KITSURAGI: “Okay…” He turns to you with a heavy sigh. “I *might* have something in my motor carriage we can use. When you’re done here.”
ESPRIT DE CORPS: [Medium: Success] I *really* didn’t want to resort to this, the man is thinking.



Before we go, you’ll notice that I neglected to pick the option to give him the giant novelty cheque. Well, that’s because I hosed up, so let’s reload a save and see that, because I think it’s at least a little funny:



GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANANGER: The cafeteria manager stares at you, baffled. “You must be joking, right? You come here, trash everything—and now you try to pay with a novelty cheque? This isn’t a game show. I’m not going to accept it. You owe me cold hard money… I want to see that money in the palm of my hand. Every single cent.”




Well, let’s head to the motor carriage then.

KIM KITSURAGI: “I have something here we could sell. Look in the back, in the suspect transport enclosure.”





COUPRIS KINEEMA: The cage at the back of the motor carriage looks rather uncomfortable. Four shiny hubcaps are stacked against the seat. Their silver edges sparkle in the dark.
KIM KITSURAGI: “I confiscated these four a little while back. We can take them to the pawnshop down by the Martinaise Canal.”









KIM KITSURAGI: “As I said, they’re useless anyway. I should have remembered I have these earlier…”



KIM KITSURAGI: “Yes, the Bird’s Nest Roy, near the canal—we’ve been there. If I’m not mistaken it should be open late.”






KIM KITSURAGI: “Yes, we’d like to sell these hubcaps,” the lieutenant steps in and hands him the spinners.
BIRD’S NEST ROY: Roy takes the hubcaps from the lieutenant and inspects them. The spinners appear iridescent in the dancing light of his pawnshop. He marvels at the cobalt shimmer, and nods: “Yes, these are very, very good. Did you defraud some foreign prince for them? Jump a mesque banger? No matter… I’ll give you 200 reál.”



BIRD’S NEST ROY: “Of course. I meant no offense. 200 reál for you, officer. Delightful doing business with you. Do come again.”
KIM KITSURAGI: “Thank you.” He takes the cash, then turns to you.



EMPATHY: [Medium: Success] The windfall is a small consolation.



BIRD’S NEST ROY: “I’m not purchasing any more clothing at the moment…” he looks you up and down quickly. Suddenly, his gaze fixes on your tie. He steps back from the glass. “And *especially* that tie. It swallows photons around it. I have no need for *necrotic* objects.”





Well, whatever. Back to Garte!






GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANANGER: He takes out his key chain and fiddles with the mechanism behind the counter. “The electronic lock to your room has been disabled till 21:00 tomorrow.”



KIM KITSURAGI: He opens his wallet. “I’ll take a room here too.”









KIM KITSURAGI: “I have a cigarette every night when I go over my notes. It’s something of a ritual.”



KIM KITSURAGI: The light of his cigarette illuminates a fleeting smile. “You mean this?” he flicks the ash. “This isn’t cool—it’s an unnecessary trial of will. And unhealthy.”
VOLITION: [Easy: Success] Keeping the habit within the parameters he’s given himself takes a lot of focus. It would be easier to simply quit.




KIM KITSURAGI: “Well, we inspected the victim’s body. So that’s good—it was not easily *approachable* in that state, but we did it. I would say our initial inspection was *very* thorough—and we have solid leads to follow up on. The body is still hanging from that tree, which is… unfortunate. But we performed a thorough search of the premises of the crime scene—that’s great.”



KIM KITSURAGI: “I look forward to that. As for the interviews… We conducted an interview with Evrart Claire.”



KIM KITSURAGI: “Well…” He frowns. “We will have to work through that.”



KIM KITSURAGI: “You can look into the process of changing your name after we finish this investigation. We didn’t talk to the Wild Pines rep. We really must do that tomorrow.”



KIM KITSURAGI: He nods thoughtfully, tapping his finger on his cigarette. “It’s impressive, especially for a man your age—and in *those* heels…”





KIM KITSURAGI: “Yes, although indirectly, as citizens can always request records from their local station.”




KIM KITSURAGI: “You can’t. Those who don’t show up become fugitives, though, and have fewer legal rights when they are eventually caught. It’s about power projection. Thus far they seem to mostly show up.”




KIM KITSURAGI: “You have to supply compelling evidence for why it was necessary to use lethal force. In these cases—your partner is usually your witness.”




KIM KITSURAGI: “The Coalition Government and the Moralintern more broadly. The RCM was formed by the Coalition Government to restore order in the International Zone after the Revolution. So we did. Now we attempt to *maintain* that order, no more, no less.”







KIM KITSURAGI: “Interesting question. It’s a blue forget-me-not. Their motto is: Love, Compassion, Self-Discipline. I think you can gauge what they *want* you to think of them from that.”
CONCEPTUALIZATION: [Medium: Success] Something kind and *usual*.
LOGIC: [Medium: Success] Something almost self-explanatory.




KIM KITSURAGI: “The Moralintern are a fact. I try not to have opinions on facts—until they change. And…” He looks at the city below… “It doesn’t look like that’s about to happen.”



KIM KITSURAGI: “Yes. I *did* –when I was younger. In my twenties I considered myself a moralist. *A blue forget-me-not, a piece of the sky*,” he quotes. “They’re not all that bad.”
CONCEPTUALIZATION: [Medium: Success] That’s another leitmotiv associated with moralism.






KIM KITSURAGI: The dying lights of the city shimmer below—slowly, like luminous clouds, they pass on his lenses. The lieutenant looks at his slim cigarette, contemplating the next drag.
ESPRIT DE CORPS: [Medium: Success] This *soldier* is the highlight of the day for me, he thinks. This little stick right here.




KIM KITSURAGI: He looks at the dark silhouette of the equestrian monument cutting into the night sky and says: “We run this city. West of the river is RCM land.”





Thanks, Kim.




See ya tomorrow. But before we go to bed…




Let’s do something about this loving mirror!!!



Encyclopedia check fails.





Goddammit.



Well, let’s actually go to bed, then.





And so ends the first day of the rest of our life.

Arist fucked around with this message at 20:55 on Jan 1, 2020

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Night10194
Feb 13, 2012

We'll start,
like many good things,
with a bear.

I am glad we did not start 2020 with Botchcop.

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