[There are few things in the world that disorient Kirin Jindosh, and somehow, within minutes, Paolo has found one of them. A message, he says, and Jindosh's mind races to try to figure out which throwaway audiograph recording the little Duke might have listened to, and why. He can't recall, and worse than that—he has no idea what Paolo is talking about.
Ordinarily it wouldn't matter, he's a very important man and he can't be expected to remember every single interview he gives, especially those sent along to Luca Abele to appease the fat idiot's demands to see results in a time frame that doesn't make any sense. Luca Abele knew nothing, he was too stupid to understand half the things Jindosh told him at any given time, and Jindosh is entirely certain this Paolo has even less education to show for himself.
But he has audiographs, and Jindosh's brow creases as he stops listening fully to Paolo's speech about what a little shit he is. Beetles? Beetles, having enough shells, why would he—
She let me keep a few of them in a jar, and the room lurches around him for a moment but that isn't, oh, god—]
I pulled off their legs, [he says, a murmur, not paying attention to Paolo any longer at all. Kirin Jindosh, gentle as a lamb, the months upon months he can't remember except through a haze, there is a recording of it somewhere in this office. A sick dread settles in his stomach, and it is not much comfort to realize Paolo believes he's only here to wheedle him for money.
The hand on his chest makes him blink, vacant for a moment before he comes back to himself. Cool, don't, uh, ask about that ever.]
What are you...? Shut up, you annoying little man, I am trying to think. [It's going great. He rubs his temples.] I came here to judge what kind of man you are, Paolo. Why don't you tell me, and save us all a great deal more time?
no subject
Ordinarily it wouldn't matter, he's a very important man and he can't be expected to remember every single interview he gives, especially those sent along to Luca Abele to appease the fat idiot's demands to see results in a time frame that doesn't make any sense. Luca Abele knew nothing, he was too stupid to understand half the things Jindosh told him at any given time, and Jindosh is entirely certain this Paolo has even less education to show for himself.
But he has audiographs, and Jindosh's brow creases as he stops listening fully to Paolo's speech about what a little shit he is. Beetles? Beetles, having enough shells, why would he—
She let me keep a few of them in a jar, and the room lurches around him for a moment but that isn't, oh, god—]
I pulled off their legs, [he says, a murmur, not paying attention to Paolo any longer at all. Kirin Jindosh, gentle as a lamb, the months upon months he can't remember except through a haze, there is a recording of it somewhere in this office. A sick dread settles in his stomach, and it is not much comfort to realize Paolo believes he's only here to wheedle him for money.
The hand on his chest makes him blink, vacant for a moment before he comes back to himself. Cool, don't, uh, ask about that ever.]
What are you...? Shut up, you annoying little man, I am trying to think. [It's going great. He rubs his temples.] I came here to judge what kind of man you are, Paolo. Why don't you tell me, and save us all a great deal more time?