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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[What... Paolo looks between his great breakfast and Jindosh, brows furrowed. He made it himself? What is this?]

I came to find you because I thought you'd like something to eat. [Well, he's putting the other plate down on this windowsill so he can eat his toast... dejectedly.] You know, like normal people do in the morning.

Oh. [Weird? Don't play maid. Or whatever this is.

It's a good thirty seconds before Jindosh picks up a piece of toast and doesn't take a bite, but he's got it. His appetite hasn't come back from the House Incident, on top of barely being there in the first place.]

You could have asked. [jindosh]

Yeah, yeah... I was going to walk all the way up here to ask if you wanted toast, walk back down, then come back up to see you. Sure.

[This guy... Paolo's not hung up over whether or not he's going to actually eat it since he's at least touched it. It's a nice gesture. He's talking with his mouth full.]

We got a few options. We can spend the day butchering some poor guy downstairs, see if the blades we got are gonna work for your clockworks, go down to a few markets here and see if they got what you're looking for... Or we can take a trip to the Cyria District, since neither of us have been there in awhile. Anything we don't do, Mindy's doing for us.

[god he would love to destroy some dude, but bank robbing...]

I'd like my things back as quickly as possible, if you don't mind.

[He'll go march into the bank himself, but it would be easier if Paolo and some thugs came with him. The other stuff can wait—there's no telling when the Duke will have Jindosh's vault cleared out under the assumption that he's dead or soon to be dead, camped out in Stilton's yard somewhere.]

[Paolo nearly chokes on his toast, but it's fine. He swallows, just kind of looking at him with disbelief.]

You wanna do that today? There are things that gotta be scouted out, guard routines, shift changes...

[Ugh, Paolo? You are ruining his day already?]

And how long will that take? A day? Perhaps two? The longer we dally, the more difficult it will be to retrieve my things before the Duke claims them for his own.

[He'd probably have to destroy the vault to get inside of it, too, and that's just offensive. Without his house, the vault is one of few Great Machines left...!!]

[A day, perhaps two. It should take a week!! Paolo almost wants to put into perspective how much work it takes to pull off heists, but he has a point.]

Then I'll streamline the process. My guys'll go in an hour, and we'll... get lunch while they get a hold of some shift changes. See some sights. Make sure they don't pay attention to us two until we can go in tonight.

[A week! Unacceptable! He needs his things now before someone else tries touching them. And he's also standing here barely eating a piece of toast, while Paolo suggests eating more food? Perhaps by lunchtime he'll need to eat before he starts feeling sick, so - maybe.]

Hmm. [HMM.....] I suppose that will have to do. Do tell me what sights you have in mind.

[Please, tell him about the slum tour!!]

There's this little restaurant by the canal. [If he didn't know any better, he'd think he's actually excited about telling this guy this. No, it's just that he doesn't get to hang around high society around. Surely.] They serves these uh... little cut up sandwiches, and crepes, all that shit. We can sit outside, think about the... plan.

[Nailed it. His smile is a bit sheepish.] There's uh... there's a tailor, taxidermy, other shit too. It's a nice place. Can't go to the club though, unless I wanna get shot by those Eyeless freaks.

[A little restaurant, how quaint. Jindosh is interested in only two parts of this outing: talking about the plan, and taxidermy. Cool. He makes a face, considering, hums a little-]

Alright. Perhaps you could burn down those Eyeless eyesores some other time.

[He doesn't even go over there buuut rich people are stupid and weird! Ignoring the fact that the blood thing they do is probably something Jindosh has also done to someone for non-Void reasons, because he doesn't know about that.]

Eyeless eyesores...

[Paolo shakes his head, laughing despite himself. It was supposed to be a good morning from the beginning, but this reminder that Jindosh isn't actually a stick in the mud is nicer than expected. Keep it up, big guy.]

Y'know, once we have your soldiers, I don't think there's much stopping us from just takin' over if we wanted. [Us? There's an us. Apparently he's getting more accustomed to actually being partners than he thought.] More spacious, less dust... They got good apartments.

[Ooh, an us, also very quaint. Jindosh doesn't mind; he's always worked alone but not for lack of trying, Anton Sokolov!!! —so maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have at least a sounding board for his more murderous ideas. Like setting the nobles in that club on fire (and not the club? Apparently).]

As much as I've enjoyed sleeping in your office, [all of once] I can't begin to describe the pure joy that fills me at the thought of my own apartment.

[He'd rather have his house back! But that's better than nothing. Can the thug babies stay here so no one howls all night, please? Thanks.]

Yeah, I can really tell. That uh, look on your face, picture of pure joy.

[Of course, he's being sarcastic. And if his tone wasn't enough, he gestures towards his expression with a wide grin.]

Really. I cleared my couch for you, by the way. It's easier on the back, and they're quieter around my room.

How luxurious. [But it's not a smelly cot near all the howling... Acceptable. Instead of saying thank you, he actually eats some of this piece of toast. It's subtle.]

Then shall I expect you to come fetch me for lunch, or is there some other trinket you expect me to fix beforehand?

[btw he fixed that wrist bow ur welcome]

[Oh, thanks? For the toast and the bow? Paolo is so caught up in reevaluating his opinion of Jindosh that he nearly misses what he's saying. He blinks back into focus, scrambling for some kind of response.]

No, I'll uh... I'll come fetch you. You're free to roam around to the basement or... whatever, so... [Right. Work. He steps away and starts for the door.] Sending Mindy and the rest out by boats, we'll take the carriage.

[Wow Paolo, pay attention!! Jindosh supposes he can wander down to the basement later, when he's done staring at the dusty street and feeling sorry for his poor, poor house. So maybe in an hour or so.

He turns away to do just that, waving the rest of his toast piece at Paolo as he moves away. Bye...]

Alright. Go on. [see u...for the lunch date]

[Paolo thought he'd go downstairs, debrief Mindy for a few minutes, debrief the Howlers for an hour, and the rest of the day would go smoothly. He'd go smoke, have a drink for the nerves, arm himself, get going. Have a night chat on the way there about how the rich are only getting what's coming to them. He wouldn't have to say things like No, that crazy fuck isn't going to get us killed, shut up. or You got any better ideas than he does? Didn't think so.

But Paolo went in to tell Mindy, and Mindy talked his ear off about how it was such a bad idea for an hour. Then he had to spend another two convincing the Howlers it was actually a good plan after they'd all heard Mindy yelling at him from two floors above. Then he checked his watch, and it turned out he had no time for a smoke or a drink, and they'd probably be late for lunch by the time the carriage arrives.

So it wasn't a smooth trip. Paolo is bitter when he comes to pick up Jindosh, and he's bitter despite the relatively nice weather, and he's bitter during the trip there. He's constantly checking for if he counted the ammo on him right, and he's smoked half a pack of cigarettes already. But he's getting there. They're coming up on the station soon, when he finally clears his throat.] You ever hear the stuff this uh... Shan Yun guy puts out?

[Jindosh spends his requisite hour up on the not-quite-roof staring at the street, as promised, then wanders around the saloon more or less ignored by everyone else there. At some point he leaves that breakfast plate on the end of the bar for someone else to deal with (he did finish the toast, be proud of him), but other than hastily-avoided eye contact from the Howlers milling around, he doesn't have any interaction to speak of while Paolo argues all morning.

In the basement, he touches everything dangerous, but he puts it back where he got it from. Just know: he was here. When Paolo comes to pick him up he follows without protest, more because he's bored than looking forward to it, but he's not complaining! That's something. He's staring dully at the scenery as they zip along when Paolo finally stops sulking and speaks up.]

Yes, it's terrible, and the Duke insists on playing it at his gatherings. [very bad orgy music] The man sounds like a dying whale, but idiots with more coins to rub together than brains line up to hear him warble. They used to ask me to play his songs in my waiting room. Hah! Imagine—perhaps if I never wanted to work in peace again.

[kill the rich]

[To think, if he'd just asked sooner, he could have spent less time sulking and more time enjoying how much Jindosh hates the same people he does. He sits back in his seat, crossing his arms and nodding towards the oncoming cliffside.]

Pretty sure you couldn't work in peace if a pin dropped, but uh... He lives here, you know. They said if his fans aren't blaring music out their windows, he's singing out of open ones. The Eyesore club is attached to his place... take over, walk through, cut out his tongue so nobody's gotta suffer anymore. Whattaya think?

[Jindosh scoffs - that's totally not true, but also, don't drop pins? Why must he suffer? Either way, Jindosh actually turns away from staring at nothing to look at Paolo instead, now that they're actually talking about killing the rich. He's intrigued? Tell him more.]

I think someone out there will be unhinged enough to pay for his tongue, if you know which circles to ask in. [did you know: rich people are bad and weird] I designed the electric floor he uses for his security, as well.

[What if: fry everyone alive.]

They'd probably use it in some weird ritual shit to try and steal his voice. [They're creepy like that, right? His eyes shouldn't light up the way they do at something so morbid, and yet.] You use a rewiring tool, we dump the guards in, aaand clean up's done. Have any maids that stick around sweep away the dust... and we go break his records.

[God, if he could go do this right now. They have other things to get done first, though...!! Mindy yelled at him when he was this impulsive.] You did his vault too, yeah? Everything would be easy. More cash in my pocket, nice place for you. [A beat.] Not as nice, I know, but. A start.

[That vault is genius like everything he's ever made, but he also hates it because he hates... the singing... It will have to go once he owns this house, which apparently is something that's going to happen. How sweet.]

A start. And the whole of that club will be yours to carry on in however long you like. [howling,] I would caution you against getting too excited; the bank, first.

[He says it nice, unlike Mindy?? Shocking twist. He wants his robots.]

[How kind of him. Paolo knows he probably wouldn't be that nice if he weren't the reason he weren't getting all his assets back, but he can live with that. It's good business - really good business. Best business he's had in awhile.]

Yeah, yeah, the bank. I made sure all of your things are gonna come back fine, safe and sound... we got a boat waiting. It'll be fine. [Until they have to get inside and probably strangle a few people, but that's fine. They're coming up on the station, now, so he's sitting up to stretch. Sure enough, the sound of one of Yun's songs is coming through a window of the apartment just beyond the gates.] If... we don't lose our minds in the next few hours.

[Hey, that's gay! Buy him lunch first, Paolo. Jindosh makes a face at the music, looking up to see if he can spot where the music is coming from precisely and will it to catch fire. Please, let him rest.]

You'll have to be very thorough in your discussion of this grand plan. Otherwise I may not have any nerves left to steel for any less than legal activities later.

[Entertain him? Thanks.]

You know, I'm pretty sure you wanted me to shut up the last time we were out. Maybe I should now...

[He chuckles, rising out of his seat once the carriage comes to a stop. He places his hands in his pockets and puts on a smile - not so forced as it was the last time they were out. Whether it's the mission, or the fact he just wants to appeal more to this man so he doesn't run off, he apparently wants to seem more likable.]

I wrote it all down on a map. We'll read it at lunch. You wanna shop, first? They got flowers.

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