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was i ever truly off my bullshit
[When Kirin Jindosh's house falls into the sea, he almost doesn't realize it's happening. No alarms have been activated, no sensors in his floors alert him to the presence of an intruder; even the mechanisms of his house are silent as the grave, on this completely ordinary day. Were there anything amiss in his house, he would know... and nothing appears to be wrong.
He hasn't eaten in two days. It's unimportant, but he's pushed his hunger to the point of distraction and now needs to put something in his body before he starts to slip in his work. It's this that gets him out of his lab and skulking directly down to the kitchens instead of waiting around for someone to bring him food in the dining area; the cooks aren't pleased to see him in their space (it isn't theirs), but they never are, and Jindosh can eat a pear in peace for five minutes thanks to their studiously avoiding his gaze.
His cooks are among the best of his staff, all things considered. But so it happens that he is not in the high, ocean-overlooking part of his home when it begins to fall. He feels a faint rumble beneath the floor and pauses, head tilted to listen. Somewhere, something creaks. And then something tears.
All at once his perfect home becomes a place of chaos: guards abandoning posts, staff and servants running in every direction, the clockworks not knowing what to do with themselves in the absence of an enemy to put down. Jindosh himself moves like a spectre, the shock of his home's demise too great to spur him into doing something like moving more quickly. Against all odds it's a maid (he knows her face, Maybe if he had a family, but that kind of thing doesn't even occur to him, his home remembers) who sees the master of the house staring dully out of a window as it splinters and does something about it, grabbing his hand and taking off at a run before he can find his voice to object.
The house crumbles. Glass shatters, wood splinters and stone all but dissolves as if it were never the marvel of engineering it was built to be. Metal screams and snaps as it bends in ways it was never intended to and Jindosh has no words for the feeling he experiences as his life's work, years of work and decades of research, slip into the sea like they were never there. How? he wonders. How, how, how? No answer comes to him; his greatest defeat is this, and though he can see no enemy that caused this, he knows: his house is flawless, and if it falls then his enemy has bested him without ever appearing before him.
A worthy opponent, despite the consequences.
Outside the carriage is somehow still working, but it throws itself off its track when a chunk of his waiting room wall lands on the station behind it. Jindosh and the maid are tossed limply into the grass, and the maid scrambles to her feet to continue running while Jindosh sits up to watch his house fall to rubble and dust. He thinks he can see his silvergraph lenses glinting in the afternoon sunlight as they fall, but perhaps he imagined it.
He's still sitting there watching when the dust has settled. When a dark-clothed figure covering her face stalks toward him, says nothing to him as he looks up into the eyes of his own destruction, the Empress, says nothing as she tosses the cracked shell of a clockwork soldier's head into his lap and walks away.
He's still sitting there when the sun begins to set, on the hill, on everything. She may as well have just killed him, he thinks as he finally rises to go pick through his own rubble. It would have been more merciful than this.]
He hasn't eaten in two days. It's unimportant, but he's pushed his hunger to the point of distraction and now needs to put something in his body before he starts to slip in his work. It's this that gets him out of his lab and skulking directly down to the kitchens instead of waiting around for someone to bring him food in the dining area; the cooks aren't pleased to see him in their space (it isn't theirs), but they never are, and Jindosh can eat a pear in peace for five minutes thanks to their studiously avoiding his gaze.
His cooks are among the best of his staff, all things considered. But so it happens that he is not in the high, ocean-overlooking part of his home when it begins to fall. He feels a faint rumble beneath the floor and pauses, head tilted to listen. Somewhere, something creaks. And then something tears.
All at once his perfect home becomes a place of chaos: guards abandoning posts, staff and servants running in every direction, the clockworks not knowing what to do with themselves in the absence of an enemy to put down. Jindosh himself moves like a spectre, the shock of his home's demise too great to spur him into doing something like moving more quickly. Against all odds it's a maid (he knows her face, Maybe if he had a family, but that kind of thing doesn't even occur to him, his home remembers) who sees the master of the house staring dully out of a window as it splinters and does something about it, grabbing his hand and taking off at a run before he can find his voice to object.
The house crumbles. Glass shatters, wood splinters and stone all but dissolves as if it were never the marvel of engineering it was built to be. Metal screams and snaps as it bends in ways it was never intended to and Jindosh has no words for the feeling he experiences as his life's work, years of work and decades of research, slip into the sea like they were never there. How? he wonders. How, how, how? No answer comes to him; his greatest defeat is this, and though he can see no enemy that caused this, he knows: his house is flawless, and if it falls then his enemy has bested him without ever appearing before him.
A worthy opponent, despite the consequences.
Outside the carriage is somehow still working, but it throws itself off its track when a chunk of his waiting room wall lands on the station behind it. Jindosh and the maid are tossed limply into the grass, and the maid scrambles to her feet to continue running while Jindosh sits up to watch his house fall to rubble and dust. He thinks he can see his silvergraph lenses glinting in the afternoon sunlight as they fall, but perhaps he imagined it.
He's still sitting there watching when the dust has settled. When a dark-clothed figure covering her face stalks toward him, says nothing to him as he looks up into the eyes of his own destruction, the Empress, says nothing as she tosses the cracked shell of a clockwork soldier's head into his lap and walks away.
He's still sitting there when the sun begins to set, on the hill, on everything. She may as well have just killed him, he thinks as he finally rises to go pick through his own rubble. It would have been more merciful than this.]
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So there was a little noise. The glass, the thud, a cut off yelp of a poor security guard who probably needed a raise. It was also probably enough to awake the Clockworks from their sleep state prematurely. However, Paolo hasn't considered the hassle of all that, more concerned with the state of his now blood-spattered shirt when he opens the door and rounds the corner.]
You're damn right, I'm doing the actual work...
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It's actually quite annoying. It laughs? Jindosh is literally elbow-deep in ceramic parts right now and can't rush to stop the other one before it stomps out of the room.
But there's no one left to turn on the alarm, so,] Imbecile! Stay out of sight if you want to keep that smart mouth of yours.
[Maybe he can watch it spin!! That's fun!!]
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But Jindosh didn't say anything about audio detection, so through the walls separating the rooms:]
Can't you just tell it to shut down?!
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[And that door looks sturdy? Probably, it can't break down a metal door. But it will stomp back and forth in front of said door and scrape its terrible sword arms on it while continuing to ramble on about its important searching. Because Paolo is shouting and Jindosh shouting is Perfectly Fine, it's not leaving from this spot...
Jindosh may or may not take his sweet time just to let Paolo sweat a little. For taking up attitude, of course. But eventually he'll come over and deal with the upset Clockwork, after it's started trying to smash through the shitty window and its awful blinds.
He does leave it deactivated immediately outside of the door so Paolo can stare right up at it when he crawls out from under that desk. Hey.]
Now then, if you'll come out of there, we have to move my vault. [did he mention, that it moves,]
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I think you're overestimating how much we can carry. [He does not know, he doesn't mean lifting anything,]
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[He doesn't need Paolo to come with him to the vault control room to move the vault somewhere accessible. Really, he could do this part entirely by himself and not worry about it, because no one is awake or breathing who will really care. But he definitely has to show off how special and wonderful and cool his moving vault on its stupid vertical rails is, so please bear witness to this display.
Which mostly is Jindosh pressing a button, but all the same.]
Impenetrable and capable of changing position at a moment's notice... The most secure vault in all the Isles. With the destruction of my home this vault is one of the few great machines left in Karnaca, and most certainly the most impressive.
[The lock on Stilton's place? Tricky, but ultimately just a lock. But this thing!! Wow!!]
We are going to have to follow it back upstairs, I'm afraid. Ah, but you'll be able to see it face-to-face.
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Jindosh does have the right to be a bit of a choffer, being responsible for things like this. Paolo grins despite himself, only tearing his gaze away when the Vault’s passed the second floor. The look he gives Jindosh is one of appraisal, right before he’s passing him by to get back to the elevator as quickly as he can go without running.]
You don’t see this shit anywhere else. Not Dunwall, not— not anywhere in the Isles! This is why this city’s the Jewel of the South!
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Jindosh is pretty pleased with himself. Paolo dashing off like an excited child is an added bonus, with Jindosh following behind him more sedately, but only just.]
Isn't it just? Come, you haven't seen genius security until you've seen the interior of my vault. Few have had the privilege, and even less beholding the contents.
[It's mostly just money, to be fair... but since Paolo is being so supportive of how smart he is now, he can have a present. Time to go upstairs and crank this vault wheel.]
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He's a little disappointed when the vault door slides open and there isn't just gold bars and money everywhere, but that's fine. The locks are still very promising.]
Tell me about it. [Give him his present,]
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Anyway, besides the one lock that's suspiciously different from the rest that Jindosh completely ignores, they're all combination locks and a quick glance around makes him scoff, gesturing at them as he looks back at Paolo like this will convey his smug disdain at people who've clearly tried to brute force their way into his stuff. Ridiculous!! Almost insulting, except he lives for the intrigue and the smug dismissal he can give people when they're super wrong.
There's a decent chance he'll never come back to this vault again - or if he ever does strangle his high society station out of the Duke again (literally? perhaps?), he'd just make a new one for fun - so he doesn't bother to send Paolo out while he turns the dials to the appropriate combinations one after the other. Nothing happens until the last number is turned, and Jindosh's weird ASMR thrill at the loud click of each of the locks opening at once is another one of those rare moments where he's actually satisfied like a normal person and not a murderer with no moral compass. Yay..........
In any case, the distinct hissing sound of a bonecharm can be heard coming from behind one of the doors once they pop open just a crack. Jindosh looks at it from where he's gone to get all of his goddamn money, first, then at Paolo.]
You may have that, I suppose. As much as it pains me to admit I have no idea what it does, perhaps you will have more luck. [u greasy void man...]
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It's not luck, my friend. These things come to me as easy as engineering comes to you. [He finally slows, reaching into one of the safes to delicately take up the charm. He turns it over in his hand, listening like he can possibly understand what nonsensical whispers emit from the bone - and briefly, they become louder, as if joined by another, more feminine voice speaking the language of the void. He coughs over it immediately after it starts, tucking it away into his jacket and smoothing it over as it'll dispel it altogether.]
Right, well... They'll come up to take what we can't carry. [He's moving on now, passing over the books lining the others in favor of the more jewelry filled one.] Sell everything you don't need in the black market... Hey, it's look like you got me flowers. [Look at these golden roses, Jindosh,]
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You don't need those, [he says of the flowers, please god just sell those and don't be weird,] And if that's all the rifling through my safes you need, there is an entire office behind you just waiting to be picked clean.
[Go do some crime and give him a minute with his vault, okay. He's keeping the ugly Clockwork face piece thing, by the way.]
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I'm going to have an office as big as this by the time we're done working together. [He calls over his shoulder, taking a moment to grab a another bone charm from the wall before he walks on to the second desk. Bonus!] All this space, this giant window... You probably think this is nothing, but this is more than anyone in that district can dream of! And they fuckin'-- they waste it! They waste it on garbage!
[Now, Paolo probably shouldn't have gone flinging bank papers across the office, but he can't possibly have known he needed to be quiet in here. He's laughing as he observes the mess - ready to continue on with pulling down some paintings - when the curtain moves, and the forgotten problem child of the Clockworks comes barreling through.
His yelling, though not abnormal, is significantly more distressed. A chair is being thrown? He left Jindosh's side for like, two minutes.] J-I-N-4-- 4-- KIRIN!
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So it's with increased moodiness that he spends the two minutes it takes Paolo to walk directly into a life or death situation again. Jindosh doesn't look around until Paolo starts yelling his first name - very strange - at which point he's briefly surprised that a (poorly reconstructed) fifth Clockwork is in here. He, uh... forgot about that one! Oops!]
How have you survived this long in the world, Paolo? For goodness' sake— [Here, fine, he'll put down this box or whatever and come over to give the correct code and save the day. Not before the rogue Clockwork spins its blades around wildly and stutters halfway through a stupid default phrase about the fucking bank, which really is the stuff of nightmares. What happened to this machine.]
I did not sell her this malfunctioning disaster. [Like, he only peddles quality murderbots,]
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[His voice has lost it's delight for getting this far, tone low and full of disdain. Paolo is still recovering from the whole ordeal, and Jindosh being mildly frazzled while he's dealing with the fact it cast aside a goddamn chair like nothing is infuriating. Later, Paolo will be delighted seeing this brilliant show of strength demonstrated on someone else. Right now, he's understandably looking at it with hostility, clutching a ruined sleeve as fresh blood overtakes the dried guard's.]
If it's that useless, there's no reason I can't blow this thing and collect the pieces. [He leans off the desk - which has a considerable chunk taken out of it from a poorly calculating swing - and starts for it, pulling up the sleeve to raise his wristbow.] Give me one good reason.
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They're still out cold by virtue of unrealistic AI mechanics, do not question this.]
They're expensive and you have a bad temper. Here, don't leave a trail to follow.
[Don't whine!! Jindosh will make him a cool sword out of the spare arm later but only if he doesn't whine.]
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Thank you. [He clears his throat and leans back against the desk, forcing himself to occupy his hands with tying it.] If that's all... take your time.
[sorry, he guesses,]
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Then, he will go back to thinking about how sad he is about engineering in the vault.]
I won't be long. You should fetch your people away from the registers, in the meantime.
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They're probably already... [He trails off, realizing it's probably better that he give the man some real silence. And he's pretty sure if he stays here another Clockwork they didn't know existed will just materialize to ruin his life.] Yeah- Yeah, they'll empty this place when you come out. We'll be... downstairs. Yeah, uh- thanks.
[Thanks, he's leaving as quickly as possible as soon as the knot is tied. He's got about five different emotions going on right now and he needs to not be in his company for about all of them. Enjoy the vault, he's gone now.]
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Jindosh, for his part, has dedicated most of his time to the Clockworks, with other time spared to fix everyone's shitty weapons and probably teach Paolo some new and exciting ways to torture people in the basement. At some point he buys a hookah and becomes instantly more popular overnight with every single Howler, much to his chagrin... he doesn't understand their howling still and he never will, but at least they don't glare at him nonstop when he enters a room anymore.
So he's... settled, somehow. He's still grumpy and a pain in the ass pretty often, but the success of the heist has given the Howlers lasting success, especially with the machines. It's obvious to all of Karnaca that Kirin Jindosh has, for some reason, shacked up with the Howlers because of the machines patrolling the area all the time, but no one has been dispatched to arrest him or anything, so... life is okay? Life is decent.
Today, Jindosh has a few very nice sketches of even better wristbows he wants to make to show Paolo, an activity that starts with interrupting whatever Paolo is doing with a hand on his shoulder, then his back, then inching up to the back of his neck to... make him look at the picture. Yes, what else could this be?? Look.]
—Now, this one is sleeker than the last, and it won't catch on any sleeves... [he will just continue,]
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The only thing left to wonder about is Paolo did make this place more comfortable to be accommodating out of a sense of obligation, not expectation. He rolled up his sleeves and renovated the other, non-business floors himself because he owed it to Jindosh that his living space be clean, and spacious, and relaxing without the help of a good smoke. So he doesn't expect anything out of him in turn, and it's always a surprise when he turns his attention away from his machines without being prompted. He could get by just fine with the two of them separate, him managing budget and supplies while Jindosh produced things of his own interest. The implications he should help them out of their shit-tier weapons were always teasing, and when he actually does all that, he doesn't know what to do with it. His greatest guess is that Jindosh appreciates his company, one Mindy confirmed for him after he finally suggested it, but his speculation hasn't gone beyond that. He can't figure out why she keeps laughing at him when she thinks he's not listening.
He's currently half awake, working on budgeting when he feels the hand on his shoulder. He just needs to write down a few more lines when his head is being turned. His shoulders shake with silent laughter, and he reluctantly stops resisting to finally consider the design.]
Making new ones takes more time than an upgrade... We got a lot of people, Kirin, you really wanna take the time?
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And so on. So if Jindosh, who still stares down Howler thugs who try to talk to him casually until they get uncomfortable and leave, keeps coming back to Paolo of his own volition... Well, Mindy is very perceptive in the way that she has fucking eyes, unlike Paolo. Apparently. Jindosh himself hasn't bothered with the intricacies of this... whatever it is; by all accounts, Paolo is an uneducated gangster who should hold no interest for him, and yet here he is, again. Jindosh's machines in his yard, Jindosh's interests trickling into his decor, of all things.
And so on. If he wants to put his hands on Paolo and linger, he's going to do it.]
Do you want to lose more people? Repairing every break the current set has suffered will make them too heavy if they're to be useful at all—it will take more materials, and this design is better. Your black market smiths try, I'm sure, but they should stick to peddling stolen wares instead of making their own.
[He waves the sketch significantly. Take it, you jerk.]
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[He sighs, rubbing his eyes and inadvertently leaning back into his hand when he relaxes into his seat. He has to put his booklet down to take the sketch from this terrible distraction, but he’s too tired to make a fuss. He’s realized by now that he’s not going to keep his train of thought when Jindosh is in the room, whether it be contemplating whatever he has to give or just the man himself.]
It’s uh... it’s nice. As long as it doesn’t cut off... what’s the word... circulation on our bigger guys. You’ll need their measurements... It’s a lot of effort for something on the side. You want something big from me, or what?
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Or: he gives Paolo a look, somewhat exasperated because of course he knows he'll need to make every individual Howler sit still and be measured for this, and of course he knows it's going to take some time... it's not as if he has anything better to do, and besides, there's something thrilling in a distinctly lowbrow way about these thugs tearing their way across Karnaca armed to the teeth with Jindosh-brand technology. Maybe he'll start printing a logo on their wristbows as an extra big "fuck you" to the nobility.]
Well, I am going to need them to cooperate for more than ten minutes, this time. [What wacky misadventures have Jindosh and the Howlers been up to before this?! Use your imagination.] And you will be paying for the requisite materials, of course...
[He just wants to do this... for fun... Please don't mistake this as an act of charity because it is most certainly an act of showing off.]
Why? Are you going to give me another spare room? [lol...gay]
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[He could just say it right now, but he hesitates. In hindsight, his actual plans are a bit much. A whole apartment, in a district just as, if not more expensive than where Jindosh’s house had sat outside of? He’s not paying for it so much as evicting the previous occupant, but still. It also means he won’t have any obligation to come back here, and for some reason, that doesn’t sit right with Paolo. It leaves him with an uncomfortable, sinking feeling in his chest that Mindy could probably explain but he hates the way she already knows.
So he bites his tongue, instead laughing and moving to brush the hand behind him off.]
I’ll put in for the materials. Satisfied?
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