dumbshow | was i ever truly off my bullshit

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.]

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Then I'll hire some cutters. They'll need pay by the hour, a boat over... Probably some booze for their trouble, they're fuckin' moochers...

[Paolo, once again, ignores Jindosh. He's busy! He's drawing little wood guards all over every exposed piece someone can just plunge a sword into if they got a jump, while also mumbling estimates under his breath. He draws a line from the wood pieces to an empty corner, then makes little tree shapes. Then a line from the bird's blade to a bunch of question marks, then followed by ~~Howler swords?~~ Too obvious. Then he flips the page over to make cash symbols, and start writing his list on the back.]

... Bring the wine over, yeah?

[Paolo can handle those booze expenses, sure, Jindosh wants to see this drawing. He's this close to just leaning over to stare at it from his perch over here, but then Paolo flips the page over and ruins his perfect scheme. What the fuck is happening on this day in his life? How did he get here?

He can't do anything but stare at Paolo for a moment, before stooping to pick up the bottle of wine from the floor and bringing it over. This is... a very strange meeting.]

When are you expecting this prototype model to be finished, exactly? [He asks this like he's not going to give up sleep for a few days to obsess over it, regardless. Details!]

It doesn't have to be done by the time the Empress does whatever she wants to Abele. I doubt it'll be on the same scale, but...

[He's just going to have to wait to look at his really childish doodles. Paolo is carrying on with his more adult list, taking the bottle without looking up. He finally lifts his head to take a drink straight from it (how classy) and stands back after he's done writing for another two minutes, setting his pen down. His total is hundreds upon hundreds of dollars after adding a guesstimation of how much it's going to cost for tools, the metal parts he doesn't know how to name, but... it's probably around three-quarters of what the Duke was paying him for a Clockwork.

He drinks again after doing a once-over. Mindy is probably going to kill him if the work doesn't.] They'll raise the security for awhile after, I'm sure... So ideally, we wait until they're comfortable again. Two months? Three?

[No, that was Jindosh's bottle to drink straight out of... Give it back. Jindosh peers at his figures instead; yeah, that's about what he expected. His work isn't cheap! But ideally, if the clockworks can be perfected, just one will more than repay the cost of its own making... in, you know, blood. Still.

That said, he still raises his eyebrows, making a face that's not annoyed, but more surprised.]

Three months? [The materials being expensive are the real and actual problem, Paolo. Is that why three months? Jindosh and a screwdriver could make this happen in four days with all the requisite stuff.] Well. That does give me time to improve your weapons, I suppose.

[Listen, Paolo hasn't actually witnessed Jindosh not ever sleeping and just writing things on his clipboard all night. He expects these things are built in like a week or two... He'll stand corrected later.]

You used more than one when Duke took the throne for... what's her name. [He knows from the posters everywhere, he just doesn't care. Another sip, then:] When the shipments will be enough for maybe... two Clockworks at a time, and I don't think you're accounting for all the shit that'll go wrong. [Because it will, he knows. Be realistic!!] We'll have other things to do, like...

[Like... hm. Murder? What else is there but murder. Give him a minute.] You know the commands for your old ones, right? Could take one back. Compare 'em.

Delilah. [Helpful correction, not that he gives a shit, himself. Delilah wouldn't let him play in the Void, so basically fuck her. Two at a time is alright, he supposes—and things won't go wrong if he has high quality materials, but fine... fine. He'll leave that point alone.

This new plan, taking back his already sold soldiers? That's... that's very good!]

Yes. Yes, that's an idea worth pursuing. The bank holds a number of my earliest models... I daresay if they're not going to utilize them to their fullest potential, I ought to have them back. [Paolo can see those fucking disasters of ceramic... great times.] And my vault should be dealt with, before someone decides to seize it from me—not that they could get inside, but you know.

[Hey let's do a bank heist?]

[The bank is brand new information? What the fuck? For a brief moment, Paolo thinks that if he'd already known this, he never would have needed to pick up Jindosh to get what he wants... but then he almost feels guilty, considering the man's homeless. Him, guilty!

No, he reasons, he was right to pick this guy up. He would have had no idea otherwise. Additionally, it's more fun this way, finding out just how interesting this man can prove to be. He comes out of his thoughts with a grin, setting the bottle on the desk.]

You wanna rob a bank. [He laughs, a hint of excitement in his eyes. This is a great plan. He's more exhilarated at the prospect than he's been in weeks.] You, Kirin Jindosh, Grand Inventor who doesn't go anywhere, thought about robbing a bank before me! I haven't thought that big since I was a kid... It'll take a load off my back trying pay for these things. [Ah, but, hm.] That's not my territory, though. You'll be responsible for getting us through safely.

Can you handle that, big guy?

[He wants to relieve the bank of the duty of holding onto his things for him, actually. Only half of his plan is outright robbery, the other half is perfectly legal taking back his own money.

Paolo being enthused about the idea is a nice touch; Jindosh wasn't looking forward to have to convince him to round up a few thugs and do something more in depth than threatening some people on the street. He waves a hand, leaning against the desk and picking up that bottle of wine. His now, again.]

Of course. I designed the security system. [helpful tip: everything mechanical in Karnaca is probably Jindosh brand] You will have to deal with the guards.

I'll send a few scouts for the ways in, then. I hope you aren't opposed to a little climbing, if it comes down to it.

[He lets the wine go, considering he's no longer stressing about how much money he's going to have to spend. Instead he leans to open one of his desk drawers, pulling out a case of imported cigars. They're much higher quality than what he's usually carrying; he's now in a more celebratory mood.]

I don't think I've ever been more grateful to have your name everywhere. You just might be... my greatest investment. [He pulls one, pauses, then glances up at him with his fingers over a second.] You smoke?

[little does he know]

Fine. As long as we're undisturbed, the system won't be hard to reprogram.

[Does he want to fuck over the entire bank out of spite? Yes, a little. How will the Empress fare back in Dunwall when Karnaca's value falls into a ravine just like his goddamn house? Let's see how she likes it.

But that's for later. He lifts the bottle for a sip of wine, giving Paolo a look as he does—calling him an investment is ridiculous, but at least his genius is finally being appreciated in some way. He hums and glances at the cigars, wrinkling his nose a little. Even at the good shit!! No, not for that reason, he could really fucking use a smoke, but-]

Do you have tobacco?

[Paolo looks between Jindosh and the cigars, obviously trying to figure out why he would ask that when there's more or less the same thing right here. Does he just have a pipe somewhere in that fancy outfit of his? Where?]

Yeah, yeah, sure... [He opens that same drawer, leaning to pull out a small wax-wrapped pouch of tobacco, a set of matches, and a tamper. He has a pipe in there, somewhere, but he desperately wants to know where this is going.] You... sure?

[Paolo... learn now that it's better not to ask questions when he asks for things. There's always something. He makes a noise like yes, of course he's sure, sliding all of those handy things over closer to himself before he quite literally cracks his own hand open. The prosthetic, anyway; evidently he built this thing with a thumb that bends all the way back, revealing a little bowl inside in between the two fingers.

He proceeds to casually load up his own fucking hand like a completely normal tobacco pipe, light it, and shake the match out before taking a drag off his own thumb.

He's sure........]

[What... what the fuck? Paolo doesn't even light his cigar during this process, just standing there holding it while staring at Jindosh the whole time. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it.

Then he slowly slides the wine bottle back over to himself. Okay, this is fine. This is great. Love it. There's not a million questions running through his head, no, he's drinking them all away.]

Seems pretty [You did this. He smiles.] handy.

[For that, Jindosh blows smoke in his face. This is not a joke, he really does that. It's at least in his direction, since Paolo is small.]

Comedian and criminal. A jack of all trades, aren't you?

[Let him thumb smoke!! He adds, like it a) needs to be said, or b) defends his choices at all,] I made this.

[It's too late, he can't ruin his great joke. Paolo only laughs, raising a hand to wave the smoke from his face before he proceeds to light his own cigar. Logic.]

Yeah? I couldn't tell. You always feel the need to tell people everything you know, or am I just lucky?

[He's cursed, no wonder he turns into rats. Jindosh reclaims the wine, again.]

You have questions but you don't ask them. [A shrug; also, he's an asshole? It's a number of things.] Perhaps one of these days, you will.

[But UNTIL THEN... Jindosh trivia.]

Maybe I don't care enough to have them answered. [He waves out his match, then finally sits back in his chair. He was standing all this time, so he didn't have to look up at Jindosh that much.] Or I don't have questions that someone else can't answer for me.

[No, he's thinking about it. Hmmmm...] What do you do besides make those things? Take pictures? Listen to the sound of your own voice?

["I don't have questions," Paolo says before he asks goddamn questions. That's such a Jindosh move he just pulled? He's not getting this wine back.]

Were you listening when I told you I designed the bank's security system? I've improved nearly every Anton Sokolov invention from the past several decades in half the time, I've revolutionized engineering... You've invested in the greatest mind in Serkonos, Paolo. Remember that.

[He does take pictures of himself, but still. He did all this other cool stuff, too.]

[No, give him his wine... It's his turn to blow smoke in his direction. Tall asshole.]

So you don't do anything for fun. Sounds about right.

[Boring? Nerd? He's leaning back far enough to put his own feet up.] No music? No dances? No... y'know, not something in a lab?

[He can't reach this high!!!!! No, Jindosh just leans out of the way some, whatever. Gross. He gives Paolo another one of those looks like he doesn't understand why the hell he should be interested in that stuff.]

I have no use for dancing or other trivial pursuits. Should dancing one day become vital to the unraveling of some intricate problem I have yet to solve, then I will reconsider. [he's a big nerd]

What about the intricate problem of not being just like one of your clockworks, then? You figure that out?

[Paolo shrugs, then holds his hand out for the bottle expectantly. Give it back.]

You can have a good time without using your brain, you know. Come down sometime when we're having a party.

[The clockworks literally have his voice. His actual voice. He's pretty close, all things considered.

He does not give the bottle back, and instead lifts it to take another generous sip. No. Jindosh property, effective immediately.]

I've grown weary of parties after being forced to abide by the Duke's demands that I attend each and every one. How can yours be any different?

[People in a room who don't like him - tell him why he should give a shit about this concept.]

[That's literally his property? It's his bar? Paolo just keeps looking at him, holding his hand out, waiting...]

I don't make demands, for one. It's a suggestion. [He's not desperate for him to come put a damper on the mood... He's extending a kindness to make it work. Accept it.] No one's going to be fucking on every surface, either. I'd say that's already a sizable improvement.

[Wow... good point... And yet he's still keeping the wine.]

Your people look at me like they'd prefer my head on a pike, Paolo. [Which he's not upset about, but it'd be tiring to deal with for more than a couple minutes. So!!] We shall see how I feel after I've had time to take a look at your weapons.

[He needs to build something to chill out, he means.]

That's fair enough. They wouldn't do anything I don't tell 'em, though.

[Paolo sighs, finally dropping his hand. He sits in silence for a moment, taking another drag from his cigar and watching how the smoke billows from Jindosh's hand. What a weirdo...

But eventually he sets it down on an ashtray, leaning forward in his seat to pull off his jacket. There's three bonecharms sewn on the inside of it, singing the second they're revealed to the open air, but his attention is going to undoing the wristbow strapped to his arm.]

You can have a look, ahead of time. Have it back to me before I wake up tomorrow.

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