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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[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.

Hm. [Don't question how fickle he is on a daily basis? Jindosh just gives him a look, eyebrow raised, as he stands to exit the carriage. At least this time he's less shell-shocked about the destruction of his house, so - does that make him better or worse company? Stay tuned.

Paolo's effort to be charming is noted. He hasn't decided if he appreciates it or not, but something about it is at least a little less simpering and fake than the same effort from the nobles who come into his- came into his house. But, ah—he and Paolo do have a common interest in the less than savory. Great.

Shopping, though. Jindosh is looking around, critically.] You said there was a taxidermist?

Oh, yeah - yeah, you'll like it. Might even love it when you get a closer look.

[He laughs, waiting up on Jindosh before he starts into what he calls "Paolo's Grand Tour of Rich Fuck Road." He talks everything they pass - about how the Red Camellia's a tattoo parlor going to waste on the Eyeless, and how Mindy deserves the space more than than "the hag that's Shan Yun's number one fan." He talks about how there's a day spa when no one in the mines can get a good bath, and how they have the luxury of arguing where they bury their dead. He talks, and he talks, and he talks, but he trails off once they're at the doorstep of Brozenar Taxidermy.

With a smirk, he holds open the door.] After you.

[This is definitely a tour. Jindosh doesn't mention- more than once, he can't help it the first time- that he's lived in Karnaca for decades and knows what kind of things the wealthy elite get up to, thanks - instead, after that first time he's just listening to Paolo's lengthy and vulgar critiques of the rich.

Emphasis on listening. He has a side comment here and there, but they're all more or less wholehearted agreement that the wealthy are wastes of time and space and should probably be removed. Just excised from the city. He's already eyeing something on display as he takes the first step into the taxidermist, but still talking to Paolo over his shoulder,] There exists only one use for the coin spilling carelessly out of those ignorant leeches' pockets, and that would be providing me additional funding for my projects. Pity that I'm to be destitute until the end of the week.

[when they rob a BANK!!! More importantly, the woman who runs this shop takes one look at Jindosh and tries to affect a pleasant smile through her confusion, then takes a look at Paolo right behind him and tries further to smile over abject horror. Someone please spare her.

Jindosh wanders over to some stuffed birds, naturally.] You know, I don't consider myself a lepidopterist by trade, but I'm quite adept at pinning butterflies.

[This is... small talk. i had to google that word]

They're going to regret not putting their money on you when we rise above the sea of their... bullshit. [One day, he'll stop trying to be more eloquent than he is around Jindosh. Today just isn't that day. Today he's smug, exhilarated by being able to talk so freely despite the man's reminders that he already knows it. Mindy would be exhausted, and half the Howlers scramble for what to say in their shock that he's addressing them. He's by no means an intellectual equal to Jindosh, but... it's something. A good fit.

Jindosh could probably empty his wallet today, and he wouldn't give a fig. He hums as he begins to browse, winking towards the woman as he passes by her workstation. He picks up an unfinished owl head from a table adjacent to him, turning it with him like both it and he are observing his partner.]

You uh... you make those boards, like the old man? I can't say I really expected that out of you. You like... gears... and... [He doesn't know where he was going with that.] Not nature.

[Flattery! How nice, and in his favorite brand: the paralyzing regret of those who didn't realize his worth before it was too late. He loves that one. He's also enjoying looking through these birds on display, although he doesn't actually brazenly grab any of them like Paolo does. That is someone's work? He hasn't decided to casually disrespect this woman's ability yet, but soon.

But please don't do that thing with the owl head. Christ.]

Machines? Have you ever studied anatomy, Paolo? [He asks this despite having met Paolo, shh,] The body is a machine of flesh and bone, as much as my Clockworks are bodies of steel and oil.

[He made a couple boards and hung them up next to his own drawings and his own photographs to prove that he's talented, but that's just details.] I've always found wings to be of particular interest.

I wouldn't say studied, but... I know what hurts the most. That counts for something. [To emphasize his point, he makes a fingergun at the owl's head like he's blowing its brains out. Yes, this is a fine example of how he's a notorious gangster.]

We don't get much butterflies, or I'd supply you with some materials for your... lepidopey shit. [He places it back on the shelf, looking towards the finished boards across the way. He wanders off to them with a more thoughtful expression.] You still like looking at them if they aren't yours?

[This is ridiculous... and yet Jindosh still watches him fake-murder this already dead owl head like it's a perfectly reasonable thing to do. God.] It does.

[Count for something... Anyway, he just said he's not a habitual butterfly-pinner, calm down. He lingers over the birds for another moment before he moves to join Paolo looking at the butterflies.]

Her technique isn't atrocious. Why, what are you planning now?

[is it.... a present]

Do I have to be planning something?

[He raises his brows and gestures to himself, face innocent. Then he gestures towards the wall of them all, like everything is for the taking. There's a certainty in it, like he knows the shopkeeper isn't going to give them any problems.]

If you like 'em... you can have as many as I can carry.

[He's known Paolo for 24 hours and has heard more plans in those hours than he has inn a long time, so yes, he has to be planning something. But planning to just pick up these shadowboxes and give them to him, just because—that's novel. Duke Abele placates Jindosh with money and resources for his Clockworks, and some dead insects are hardly comparable, but it's this offer somehow that gets Jindosh to look at Paolo like he's more than just a greasy criminal.

Just for a second, though. Maybe two seconds.]

As a matter of fact, I think they would look rather impressive covering up the cracks in your walls.

[Buy him these bugs?]

I don't think there's enough to cover all the cracks.

[There's a certain bitterness in that laugh, and it's short-lived once something dawns on him. It's an embarrassing moment when he realizes his first pick - one of the larger arrangements - is up too high for him to remove safely with his height. He stews a moment, lips pursed, then just kind of looks between Jindosh and the board as he moves to take up two smaller ones in reach.]

You can uh... get... that... and you can pick up one of those birds too, but not the big ones. [shut up] I'm grabbing a bone. We can carve it back home.

[Ah, Paolo is indeed tiny. Jindosh considers the larger piece, glancing back at the shopkeeper mildly as if anything she did at this point would deter him, then moves to take it down. He is at least careful with this huge thing of dead butterflies, so there's that.

Carving bonecharms however is the new highlight of his day right after robbing the bank later at night. He's thrilled. It's probably not obvious other than how he actually does look delighted, if only briefly before he has to lug this butterfly thing around.]

One of your more excellent plans. [compliment,] I won't be picking the owl's head, unfortunately, so do say your goodbyes to it now.

[He casts a cursory glance back towards Jindosh for his reaction, as if he hadn't just mentioned it to see if he'd enjoy that prospect. His attempt at feigning disinterest was immediately thwarted by his inability not to look delighted and his delight, but hey, he tried. Compliment him and his facade is finished.]

You would separate us? I'm heartbroken. [He lays the two pieces on the counter before Brozenar (that's her name? who did this?) so he can place a hand over his heart, like parting from this owl head is truly so unfortunate.] You've taken the wind beneath my wings.

Buy yourself a new pair of wings. That is only a head.

[And he doesn't need it staring at him like some kind of awful puppet every time he turns around just because Paolo thinks it's hilarious. He sets the huge butterfly display down on the counter, only vaguely thinking about how he's the one who has to carry this all the way back to the saloon... how horrid.]

Tell me, if your plan was always to butter me up with trinkets, [dead things: trinkets] were you suggesting you'd buy me flowers, earlier?

[Like, he wasn't really listening... back then...]

[Paolo pauses, suddenly without an answer when it’s put that way. He rubs the back of neck, looking towards the display of bones rather than at him.]

I mean, it was right there... didn’t know if you liked some pretentious floral arrangement, or uh... Yeah, I would have got you some. Just want you more comfortable until we get our hands on a place like this. With the business.

[This guy... Jindosh is looking at him, mostly out of surprise but still managing a judgmental smirk. Who in their right mind would buy Kirin Jindosh flowers?]

As much as I enjoy these, [the dead things] you needn't concern yourself with placating me that much, Paolo. I am not going to lose my temper and go on a rampage through your entire pub.

[How uncouth? He might shout out of windows at Howlers in the yard if the mood takes him, but please.]

I don't doubt you could if you wanted to, though. [it's hot] 's not... placating, anyway. I'm a nice guy, I'm just being accommodating. You're an important guest, and I'm nice to my guests.

[He waves a dismissive hand, looking back towards him with an amused but expectant look.]

Now, she knows who you are... and she knows who I am... and I know who she is, so we have a discount. Pick a bird, and let's go.

[Maybe he will murder someone? At the bank? Probably not, it's not in the big plan, but if he has to...

Anyway, this shopkeeper is still terrified, and Jindosh spares her about 0.05 seconds of looking at her before he walks away to pick up his favorite bird (which he already picked out before, thanks) and bring it back. This one. This is the one.]

Will you accommodate me further by having someone else carry these back? [he...lazy]

I can... [carry it all, he almost says. Then he truly considers at the amount of things he's picked out for them and realizes his hubris before it's too late. He looks towards the woman behind the counter, who seems to snap out of her terror long enough to prepare bags for them. Sure enough, it seems getting by just fine not paying.]

I'll get somebody to pick 'em up before the job. [That exciting BANK JOB... He's not carrying butterflies and birds around while he's heisting.] We should get you some proper clothes... then lunch, then... well, we wait. You can stand my company for that long, right?

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