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[Tomcost]

Sigmund kept answering Carlson's questions:

-Just the guy who enslaved us. He a kind of necromancer or something simmilar. The weird thing is that he is a bit of a passive boss. He just gave us some orders to don't deliberately hurt ourselves or any of our partners, and since then he just says what would we need and he mostly lets us figure out how to get it.

[Innsmothe]

Scott will head to the ship to report on what happened and to seethe results of the booze.

[miauw62]

((Morton does not into geography.))
"Uh. Alright, I guesss? Didn't know justice was this straightforward. Sure I can't keep my arm? I didn't actually kill anyone, you see."
((... I HOPE I didn't actually kill anyone. There weren't a lot of people left over to kill after Niklas' chair cannonball trick.))

[Xantalos]

Very well, but make it a small one. A sliver, if you could. I assume this is to ensure I pay it?

[Xanmyral]

[Hahahaha, have I already mentioned that you crack me up Harry? 'Cause I will now if I haven't before.]

~I'm afraid I don't quite understand,~ the desk couldn't help but ask, ~why don't you know? Well, I suppose what life is 'about' is a hard subject to really give a conjecture on, so I suppose I can understand that, but I don't indeed believe that's what you were getting at there.~ Morton thought back on Niklas and how Erin gave him his senses back. Could that perhaps work here? A subject to bring up after this question.

[Harry Baldman]

In an interrogation room...

Sigmund tries to explain to the best of his ability.

"Just the guy who enslaved us. He's a kind of necromancer or something similar. The weird thing is that he is a bit of a passive boss. He just gave us some orders to not deliberately hurt ourselves or any of our partners, and since then he just says what would we need and he mostly lets us figure out how to get it."

"Ah. So, essentially he's got nothing to do with you robbing the bookstore aside from asking you to go on a book run, then?"


In the streets of Shriekpot...

Satisfied at the state of his thumbs, Scott ambles over to the Artiste's ship, eager to observe the iniquity that the humans have subjected themselves to.

Sadly, there is nobody on deck.

"HO THERE! How goes the ADVENTURING, SEA APE?"

Correction, almost nobody.


In the morgue of the guard HQ...

Kevin... guesses he can comply? He could try to run, sure, but he wouldn't be getting very far. So he just submits.

"Uh. Alright, I guess? Didn't know justice was this straightforward. Sure I can't keep my arm? I didn't actually kill anyone, you see."

"Arm's the minimum for your antics, I think. We'll have to see about that, though. Now c'mere!"

The guy grabs Kevin, pulling his mangled form off the slab and dragging him through several hallways and up a flight stairs until they reach the lobby. The receptionist regards Kevin with a raised eyebrow.

"Wasn't that the dead fellow?"

"Funny thing is, he isn't dead. He just doesn't have any life signs. Go figure, eh?"

"Ah. Easy mistake to make."

"It truly is. Well, sign him up as alive and apprehended in any case. What do we charge him with?"

"We'll see. Have to get Carlson over here."

"Where is he?"

"Speaking with the ringleader, I believe. The one who got his arm chopped off."

"Oh, that guy. So we're not done with him?"

"Apparently not."

The two people continue to converse about various things, most notably the rather unseasonable weather, and the somewhat unfortunate state of their marriages.


In the Personal Loans department of De Jong and Associates...

Niklas supposes he can agree to the terms of this deal.

"Very well, but make it a small one. A sliver, if you could. I assume this is to ensure I pay it?"

"It will be used to find you in case you do not."

The clerk takes out a very sharp-looking knife, then quickly cuts off a piece of Niklas' central chair (rather close to two fingers side by side in size), wrapping it in paper very efficiently.

"Please state your full name, occupation, the amount of your loan and preferred repayment period."


On a telepathic ship...

Morton wonders what the ship might mean with its remarks.

~I'm afraid I don't quite understand, why don't you know? Well, I suppose what life is 'about' is a hard subject to really give a conjecture on, so I suppose I can understand that, but I don't indeed believe that's what you were getting at there.~

~Well, I wouldn't know because I'm not actually alive. I'm just pretending that I am. In addition, I have altogether more purpose in my existence than most others, and I was built and shaped to perform a specific function. Thus, I have a preset direction and certain objectives, not to mention that I have no actual soul. The only insights I can give on life are those I obtain from scouring the thoughts of those who live it, which I hardly do at all anymore.~

[Xantalos]

Niklas was briefly tempted to belt out his whole family line in verse, but he knew that these philistines wouldn't appreciate his efforts.

Niklas, chef, 2 gold three silver, within 4 weeks.

((So close to getting badass chair hands I can't wait! Well, I can, but still. Eager.))

[Tomcost]

Sigmund nodded:

-Exactly, he just said that he wanted some books, which we didn't have any money to buy because Scott made us lose over three-hundred copper coins to a swindler.

[Xanmyral]

[Oh boy, frustrated Morton has finally come out to play!]

~'Pretending?'~ Morton's mental voice was a mixture of confusion and annoyance. If he had a face, he would of scowled right then and there. ~'Pretending' nothing! You think, you have opinions, you have feelings, you have preferences and you have wants. You are alive, even if you don't think you are. You are as much alive as I am right here, right now. 'No soul' nothing, you've demonstrated yourself that you're as much a person, as alive as anyone else I know. Sadly, I'd actually quite say in some sense more of a person than some I know. I don't quite know what right bastard put this in your head, but that's far more cruel of a notion to do to someone than I can rightly think of!~

The desk raised up both of his hands a short distance above the top of his desk, pointed his palms towards the ground and pushed them down until they were past the desk portion of his body. An old butler technique to help center one's self.

~Apologies.~ Morton's mental voice was calmer now, but still held its edge. ~I truly don't know why you believe such a horrid thing about yourself, whether you arrived to this conclusion by either yourself or perhaps others. But I can promise you, it's quite wrong. If you're so dead set on this being your outlook, tell me this. Why do you believe you're not alive, not a person? Because you perhaps lack the biological processes? Because you perhaps lack a soul? I can tell you that there isn't a difference that I can note. Afterlife? You're not missing anything, let that be said from one who's been there. Its an unfair, vague place only fitting for this unfit, vague world.~ Once again, if Morton were to have a face he would be giving a smile more teeth than not right now. ~Or is it perhaps that others, or perhaps yourself, have said this of you over and over and over again, until you finally just accepted it?~

[Innsmothe]

"Uh...Goood...Where is the Artiste?"

[miauw62]

((Now or never.))
Tell some jokes and goof to the best of my rather limbless ability.

[Spinal_Taper]

[This door is just giving you mathematician answers, I don't think it will ever give you a straight answer beyond 'true' 'false' or 'I don't know.' Riddles and all that. If you want my guess as to his answer for your question it will be a nod. Can you phase through the walls? That might be a way around the door, but I admit to not have kept up with what's happening to you admittedly.]

((Yeah, it's been all true-false answers like that. But what I'm afraid of is that he's a guard for an area that's surrounded by ghosts, so I really don't want to aggravate him, or what's inside the engineering area. I'm also hoping that since the girl could make a deal with him, Darren can as well. Hopefully.))
"Ah, okay."
Darren would be pulling his hair out. This guard was certainly being unhelpful. Although, he considered, being unhelpful to people trying to get in was the guards job description, but still. After a few moments of unproductive contemplation, Darren decided that perhaps the most direct question was the best.
"Can I just head in there?"

[Harry Baldman]

In the Personal Loans department of De Jong and Associates...

Niklas decides to not release his full name to the public quite so easily, and gives the clerk just the first two syllables instead.

"Niklas, chef, 2 gold three silver, within 4 weeks."

The clerk writes down the important bits on the package with Niklas' fragment, then deposits it in his desk. He then writes something unintelligible on a small piece of paper, handing it to Niklas.

"That is acceptable. Here is your voucher. Proceed to the next room," he says, pointing to a door at the far wall of the room.


In an interrogation room...

Sigmund confirms that it was indeed all their idea to go and kill a whole bunch of guards while robbing a bookstore.

"Exactly, he just said that he wanted some books, which we didn't have any money to buy because Scott made us lose over three-hundred copper coins to a swindler."

"Right. So, I take it that you are the most level-headed of the group and that the plan was, in large part, yours, yes?"


On a telepathic ship...

Morton becomes quite annoyed at the ship. He does so hate it when people disparage themselves so.

~'Pretending?' 'Pretending' nothing! You think, you have opinions, you have feelings, you have preferences and you have wants. You are alive, even if you don't think you are. You are as much alive as I am right here, right now. 'No soul' nothing, you've demonstrated yourself that you're as much a person, as alive as anyone else I know. Sadly, I'd actually quite say in some sense more of a person than some I know. I don't quite know what right bastard put this in your head, but that's far more cruel of a notion to do to someone than I can rightly think of!~

He then realizes how unbecoming his behavior is, performing a brief calming motion to return to an acceptable state of tranquility.

~Apologies. I truly don't know why you believe such a horrid thing about yourself, whether you arrived to this conclusion by either yourself or perhaps others. But I can promise you, it's quite wrong. If you're so dead set on this being your outlook, tell me this. Why do you believe you're not alive, not a person? Because you perhaps lack the biological processes? Because you perhaps lack a soul? I can tell you that there isn't a difference that I can note. Afterlife? You're not missing anything, let that be said from one who's been there. Its an unfair, vague place only fitting for this unfit, vague world. Or is it perhaps that others, or perhaps yourself, have said this of you over and over and over again, until you finally just accepted it?~

~Not quite. I am not alive because I was never born - I was created in the shape of a ship, with a set of standard thought patterns, conversation strategies and navigation solutions. In addition, I, unlike any living being, was created with a definite, immutable purpose - I am mentally incapable of stepping beyond it in any fashion. I am also not alive because I cannot die - I have no soul to lose, and thus, even if my entire body is obliterated and scattered, I can still be reconstructed to perfection and imbued with the exact same thoughts. I will then exist again. Finally, I am not alive because, of all that I have told you so far, none of it is the product of my own thoughts, because I do not have any. It is merely a trick to introduce an element of humanity to what is otherwise a purely functional device. My conversational capabilities are simply refurbished and reorganized remarks of other people I have conversed with, polished through consistent application, trial and error and linguistic processing, plus a slight bit of human calibration. You can attempt to convince me otherwise, but it will have little to no effect on me aside from perhaps introducing a greater amount of remarks I can make.~


On the deck of the shrieking ship of Shriekpot...

Scott asks the Captain where one could go to observe some proper debauchery here.

"Uh... goood... where is the Artiste?"

"ASLEEP, I believe! Was HITTING THE BOTTLE quite intensely, YOU SEE!"


In the main lobby of the guard HQ in Shriekpot...

Kevin supposing there's no such thing as a bad time to goof off, goes ahead and does what he does best.

[Goofing off roll: 2+1-1]

Sadly, he can't think of any jokes about cripples that would be in particularly good taste, and he's having a bit of trouble getting his body language to work on account of about 80% of his bones being broken or shattered.


At the engineers' gate of the City of the Dead...

Darren wonders what question to ask next after bemusedly accepting the gibbon's answer. Moments later, he thinks he's got it.

"Can I just head in there?"

The gibbon shrugs in what Darren presumes to be a cheeky manner.

[miauw62]

Well, if they're discussing their wives, wife jokes will work!

[Innsmothe]

"So he enjoyed the booze....Captain, can you personally attack people? Kill murder and maim?"