The Ballroom has already been fully setup for the party. Food and Drink are placed for anybody to take on lavishly decorated tables. A small orchestra plays from another balcony across from Eichorn Von Ryuko's over top a large dance floor poistioned in the middle of the room.
Taraz looks around at the other party-goers, he walks to a table laden with a variety of spirits. Grabbing a bottle, he refills his already empty goblet. He drinks a healthy mouthful, and then tops off his goblet.
"Well, this should be good. At least one of you beautiful fools is out to kill me. Let the dance begin!" Taraz performs a graceful bow over the top of his goblet, his other hand swept far out to the side in a courtly gesture.
Rashida's gold domino tilts floorward, then returns to level as she looks Taraz up and down unapologetically. "Why would anyone kill you? All they need do is wait an hour for the drink to do it for them. At least you are useful as a target."
She strolls to the table and examines it, turning away empty-handed. "I'm not even supposed to be here today. This should have been the task of my beloved brother, but after the fight with my mothers... mother... it seemed wise to take a brief vacation. Had I known this would be a prison, I would have stayed home and let my brother be weeded out of the gene pool."
As Bors stands up from his chair he drinks from a flask that he produced from one of his many pockets. Then he calmly walks over to Rashida.
"My lady what a sharp tongue, yet still so eloquent. May I have your hand for this dance? I swear I don't bite, too hard"
Rashida's head tilts delicately and she extends a hand to Bors. "And what's wrong with biting, good sir?"
Cradling a glass of wine in one hand and tightly gripping his ebony cane in the other, Vorian scowls, unamused by the sudden turn of events.
"I came here to lay claim to land, not partake in some meager party game! If I didn't know any better, the old man had this in mind all along!"
Clearly annoyed, he paces back and forth for a moment, before letting out a sigh.
"Although, the drinks are free and the music is good. Game on!"
"Why would anyone kill you? All they need do is wait an hour for the drink to do it for them. At least you are useful as a target."
Taraz laughs. "I ask myself the same question sometimes." Taraz finishes off his goblet and pours himself some more. "Except I know the answer. So it's not much a riddle." Taraz winks at Rashida as Bors leads her to the dance floor.
"One hour? My dear domino domed damsel, I assure you drinking for a lonely hour is mere childsplay for this man's liver. I will endeavor to prove it!"
Taraz turns to face the balcony in which Eichorn Von Ryuko sits. He snaps his heels smartly military style, drops his free hand to his side with a closed fist, lifts his goblet, and inclines his head in respect.
"And to you, our generous host. Thank you for the opportunity to prove that a life lived in decadence does have a place in this world."
"Someone say beautiful fool?" rumbles a muscular and large man only hardly into his twenties with a heavy russian accent. "Is a good thing I am here then" The grin beneath his mask is infectious or infuriating, depending on how much you like him at the moment. Andrezi looks around at the ballroom floor and seems disappointed a moment. "I hear there are assassins, but none has a blade out? They kill us with a boring and dishonorable knife to back? What sad little men." Andrezi pushes back his flyaway hair a few times as it keeps stubbornly falling into his eyes. "Ah well, is pretty girls and strong men, good company to die in if it is day."
"And to you, our generous host. Thank you for the opportunity to prove that a life lived in decadence does have a place in this world."
Von Ryuko once again stands up. He places both hands on the railing of the high balcony and leans into it. He locks eyes with Taraz and with a devilish smile replies:
"Trust me. The pleasure is all mine."
Taraz meets their hosts gaze for a moment, and then inclines his head again. "Baron."
"Well spoken, sir." Taraz addresses Andrezi and approaches him. Looking at the noble from under his "thief's" hood, Taraz seems to be sizing Andrezi up.
"My name is Taraz Rorenson, Lord of Serv-Bots everywhere. I pride myself at being able to read a man's drink of choice. And I bet it's..." Taraz snatches up a bottle from the table. "...this one!" Taraz tilts his head with a knowing smile offering the bottle to Andrezi for his inspection.
"Unopened, and I will let you pour it yourself. With assassins running wild and unchecked amongst us, I wouldn't want anyone to think I poisoned you if you suddenly die."
Turning back to face the dance floor of the Ballroom, Taraz taps his foot in time to the music being played by the orchestra. He doesn't even try to hide his frank admiration for Rashida's gliding form as she and Bors continue their dance.
"Ah, what better place to die than a good party?" Taraz then gestures to the dancing couple. "Well, perhaps the coatroom if one dies in the midst of an embrace with one so lovely." Taraz chuckles as he answers his own question.
In a booming voice, Eldon calls everyone to attention. Seeing he has gathered attention, he begins his speech. "You all carry on like the civilians you are when assassins are afoot. Well, I'm here to inform you all that you are in luck, for General Eldon Gorski is here to make sure these assassins are brought to heel."
He turns to scan the room. "Now I'm certain some of you would wonder why a great man such as myself would make such a stir. Surly it would bring the assassins against him. Well, you are right. Of course I would be a fool to think I wasn't already their primary target. I've spent more time fighting for my life than most of you have been alive. And I didn't do it by hiding. I fear no assassin's blade."
"I would recommend that the assassin's simply turn themselves in now and save us all some time. I of course don't believe they would be so foolish as to do so, no assassin hired to kill such as myself would have such loose convictions. But I am a man of honor, and must offer a quick painless death, even to such cowardly men. Or women."
"Over the next hour, I will begin interrogations of all in this room. These assassins will be found out and dealt with. If any of you have any information, make it known to me. I will do what I am able to ensure your safety, though I make no guarantees."
"I shall begin my work while you all go back to whatever childish games you have chosen to entertain yourselves with. Thank you."
Von Zombi chuckles deeply to himself.
"Assassins, eh? Well, then, it's a rotting good thing I am already dead!"
He moves over to the drinks, carefully cradling one stitched hand in the other as he takes up a glass and holds it high to the others in the room.
"Confusion to those who would see our blood this day!"
Staying seated at her table near the edge of the dance floor, Cassie smiles. 'Soon, they will kill each other and those of us that remain can claim our true land.'
"Ah, a Russian gentleman at least they speak the true language of court and courting." she mentions as Andrezi wanders by.
Ingilstadt walks slowly to the tables, pours a shallow glass of wine, and calmly sips at it while considering the guests at the 'party'. When the bellowing from Eldon breaks the mood, Ingilstadt approaches him in a courteous manner, volunteering for the first interrogation.
"Good sir, clearly you are a man of action and conviction, always good qualities for people in our situation. I admire your leadership and would gladly consent to interrogation that leads to the resolution of our conundrum."
"Very good. A bold move, volunteering. I like that in a soldier, and I hope that's what you will become, a fellow soldier hunting down these assassins."
"Of course the first order of business is simple. Why have you decided to attend this meeting. Beyond the obvious, of course."
Cassie glides over to the silver tray of drinks picking up a amber crystal flute; "Ah, le Con, following each other rushing around after one another. Pledging their empty oaths."
She says as she leans into the heavy-set zombie man.
Ingilstadt answers Eldon truthfully, not omitting the unkind details. "The lure of land was great. My family has fallen on hard times, our estate taken, our fortunes vanished. We are aristocracy in title only, for we live like the peasants my forefathers treated poorly. Perhaps it is our lineage's punishment for such reprehensible behavior."
The cracked, faded mask and frayed robe speak of better times from a passed era. The manner is humble, almost apologetic, without note of anger or malice.
"I am not proud of our past and I hope the boon of land will usher in a new era for my clan, a chance to be noble in actions instead of just in title."
Vorian frowns at Eldon's outburst, swirling the crimson wine in his glass round and round. Overhearing the first question of his so-called interrogation, he scoffs.
"I beg your pardon good sir, but just what qualifies you to set yourself aside as our better? Your efforts to thwart these assassins are most appreciated, yet the boldness of your words means naught, for your authority here is nonexistent."
He raises his cane, pointing its tip at Eldon, wagging it as though it were an admonishing finger. His eyes narrow as a wry grin passes over his face.
"After all, playing pretend is the most childish game of all. Wouldn't you say so, General Gorski?"
"Assassins?" says Duchess Kittington von Meowselsworth, her helmet whirring as it emits her speech, "How many attempts on my life must I endure? I am no assassin, I am just a cat who would like to gain a bit of land and prestige to match my nobility, I don't think it is too much to ask. If I must be interrogated, I will endure it."
Von Zombi looks surprised at his sudden company, but quickly recovers. He sets his glass down and sweeps into a deep bow, his bedraggled shoulder-cape flaring.
"Énchante, madame. Baron Gigus Von Zombi, at your service!"
Gigus motions to the rest of the room in amusement.
"Barely has the party begun, and yet the protestations --"
His sentence is cut off by a gurgle deep within his cheat, accompanied by a look of mortification .
"Err, my apologies...my condition, you see..."
Ingilstadt gently pushes asides Vorian's waggling cane of admonishment. "Good sir, pretend or not, General Gorski will serve us better than general chaos. Let's hear him out and support his actions as long as they support reason and ethical behavior among us."
She waves it away easily, not bothering to show any distaste. During the Egypt dig she had seen and smelt worse; "Not needed... It's a beautiful party, we have such a good manner guests. Even if it is posturing."
She pauses; "Tell me of your homeland Baron? Is it a learned place?"
Annoyed at the interruption, Eldon smiles when Ingilstadt pushes aside the cane. "You cooperation is commendable, Ingilstadt. Chaos serves it's purpose when properly incited. This would only beneft those who would put knives into our backs. Of course, if you believe you have something better to offer than order, speak now. I would gladly hear it."
"I could spin you a tale of great forests, rivers a-sparkle, and maidens fair in the town market, but the truth is, I do not recall. The grave robbed me of much of my memory as it robbed my flesh of its pigment, my raiment of its fineness, my hands of their strength."
He shakes his geat head sadly.
"But that is why I am here, just like these other worthies, yes? We are all bereft of something!"
He then peers at his companion.
"And what of you, m'lady?"
She looks to the tall man, at his words her eyes glint with slight sadness. "Lost knowledge in the heart of a poet."
Then her visage explodes into a wide smile. she downs her glass of wine and grabs another.
The zombie tips his glass to the adventuress.
An excellent reason! To be fair, however, your adventures may soon be at an end if we do not attend to our primary business in this charade.
So saying, Gigus bows again and clumps over to the general and his audience.
What cheer, General? Have the assassins surrendered to your thundering tones yet?
"If it were that simple, then many a politican would have replaced me long ago, long-winded fools. You have to smoke them out first. A drawn out process, I can assure you. Well, unless we want to make a few of those with weaker stomaches ill with the more advanced tactics. But I'll save those for a last ditch effort."
Rashida and Bors twirl apart as the dance music ends, bowing gracefully to one another and going their separate ways.
Rashida saunters to the table nearest the Dutchess and surveys the wines. "Good greetings, fair feline," she bows politely to Meowselsworth, "I trust you are well. The bond between your people and mine goes far back to the days when gods walked the land. I trust it holds as strong now. What think you of this situation? Your wisdom can be relied upon as it is given by the gods. Share it with me, I beg you." She glances towards Taraz. "And quickly, before that lout decides I am a chambermaid and tries to carry me off to a coat closet or some other equally romantic locale, and things get ugly."
She pokes among the wine bottles peering at the labels, then starts and turns again to the helmet cat. "Your pardon, Dutchess, but would you care for something? I would be honored to pour a bowl of your favorite beverage."
The alien walks in a quietly looks around. He has a tired and beleagured appearance. The world-weary sigh is followed by:
"I have made terrible choices to save humanity and the cost and toll have caused me to check into a nice clinic. After a few days exchanging trite confessions with Lindsay Lohan and Charlie Sheen, I am back, and my outlook has changed. It is amazing what retired galactic agent benefits can bring."
"May you all experience contentment and joy and never have to stay in celebrity rehab. The old Wowbagger would get all excited and whip us into a frenzy by accusing people continuously in a brute force attempt to improve all our chances of success."
He looks around, "I would like to point out that we cannot idly sit around and allow assassins to pick us off. As a reasonable man I want to improve our chances by being proactive. Maybe we should pick some reasonable method to start our search like alphabetical. This has nothing to do with Wowbagger starting with a W, it was the first random method I came up with."
"If anyone things we should wait for the talented members of our team to investigate, please advance an argument. I am not the hasty inquisitor I once was."
Sipping at the flute, with her other hand she claps Wowbagger on the back. "I remember your insults, creative and amusing. Now I heard that von Ryuko had another soiree before, where assassins crashed it. But with these numbers surely there will be more and they'll be varied."
"As an adventurer, I have seen some of the different types working their trade." 'And run from those that were sicced upon me by that damned ex of mine.' She pauses taking another sip. "These are where we have a little problem."
Wowbagger has changed from sensitivity training.
This is Wowbagger in sensitivity training.
He thought he was the shark by the way.
Wowbagger returns from his quarters dressed in a priest's robe, "I would like to apologize for all my insults. It was not kind or sensitive. I learned, most importantly from my counselors, that some of my comments were not politically correct."
"I have learned to speak of earthlings as only spacefaringly challenged."
Alessandra arrives in mourning, faintly outraged at the levity of those attending the ball after so many dozens of their fellow travelers have given their lives en-route for Von Ryuko's sick little game. How can they simply drink and make merry? It all seemed reminiscent of the Masque of Red Death, with children starving in the streets or wasting away in the workhouses while these frivolous nobles played at their costume party. Time to remind them what nobility is!
Alessandra is clothed in a simple black satin dress and a near-transparent veil hanging from a matching black hat. She is very demure and unobtrusive as the Baron makes his announcement and locks the door; she works her way upstairs to the orchestra and quickly strikes up a conversation with the players during a break between sets.
"I shall begin my work while you all go back to whatever childish games you have chosen to entertain yourselves with. Thank you."
She is just emerging from the alcove leading up to the orchestral balcony as Eldon finishes his long-winded monologue. When the music resumes, rather than the lively waltz it is somewhat jarring to hear a slow funeral dirge begin to echo across the room. Alessandra holds her head high as she meets the gaze of the assembled "nobles" who look toward the orchestra and scowls at them reprovingly. She raises her voice to reach across the room, "Shame on you! Shame on you all! Here you all are scheming and plotting over those damned oilfields- perfectly aware that it's only by the grace of God that you've made it this far alive. Surely you've all lost friends and colleagues on the journey to this accursed place yet not one of you has stopped to do so much as raise a toast to their memory!" She sashays past the well-dressed lout standing near the wine table and raises a bottle at random, "Here's to the passengers of The Queen Courier, our host's *personal* yacht, who no longer dwell with us thanks to a certain Baron's machinations. Here's to The Red Robert, may his cabers ever lie straight! Here's to Adrien Ampere and Doctor Lächelnschiefe, her face darkens momentarily- may God have mercy on their souls. Here's to Hamish Cunningham, a young man who had so much to look forward to..."
She takes a deliberate swig from the bottle (which turns out to be an impeccable vintage. Sadistic madman or not, Ryuko knew his wines) after each toast then lets a moment of silence hang at the end.
Finally she looks up at the Baron and raises her voice in a scornful tone, 'have some fun'
"Someone say beautiful fool?" rumbles a muscular and large man only hardly into his twenties with a heavy Russian accent. "Is a good thing I am here then" The grin beneath his mask is infectious or infuriating, depending on how much you like him at the moment. Andrezi looks around at the ballroom floor and seems disappointed a moment. "I hear there are assassins, but none has a blade out? They kill us with a boring and dishonorable knife to back? What sad little men." Andrezi pushes back his flyaway hair a few times as it keeps stubbornly falling into his eyes. "Ah well, is pretty girls and strong men, good company to die in if it is day."
Once the music resumes Alessandra makes her way around the ball room and attends to the idle, banal chatter that is de rigueur at events like this. As if there could be said to be events 'like this'. As she makes her way past yet another penniless European noble he attention is caught by the burly fellow with the Slavic accent and she takes a minute to remonstrate with him. She offers a friendly smile to match his infections grin and mentions, "Just between you and me, I think I saw a knife in the General's boot; the cut of his uniform hides it well but I have an eye for the lay of fabric." She gives a languid shrug and continues in the same hushed tone, "I've met him once or twice before the and he seems a decent enough chap. I'm sure he only carries it for the most honorable and utilitarian of reasons... I'm much more worried about all the other ways these wretched assassins can send a person to their final rest!" She leans in close and whispers something into his ear before holding out a hand and gesturing toward the dance floor.
"Oh, thank you Ms. Massri, I would be happy to have some cream. As it happens, I have difficulty pouring my own drinks," says the Duchess, "As for what we ought to do, we need to ensure that we have an overarching strategy that may bring us all advantage. Well, all of us who are not assassins. Without exposing those of us with strong deductive abilities (which I do not claim to, nor do I claim not to), we must find a way for them to work together without necessarily knowing one another's identity. I would suggest for a low-risk strategy these individuals investigate whoever has the next name in alphabetical order: this would create a situation where they will not scan the same individual at the same time. So if, for example, Mr. Vorian Ritter was to investigate someone, it should be Mr. Wowbagger, as his name is next on the alphabetical list. This has the disadvantage that someone can deduce backwards who our detectives are based on accusations by counting backwards, but it is a good place to start. Alternatively, they could simply tell me via private helmet mail, and I could connect them together. The disadvantage to this is, if one believes me to be an assassin, it could be to deadly effect. This could be alleviated by simply being rid of me if we find our detectives dropping rapidly. I am considering how to refine this strategy for optimal results." The feline sniffs the air lightly and says, "Also, I am indeed in mourning of the crew of the Phantom. I hope that they may rest in peace."
Rashida digs up a crystal bottle of chilled cream and pours a generous serving into a golden bowl, her gilded fingernails clicking gently against the utensils. She raises the bowl carefully in both hands and salutes Meowslesworth. "To your good health." She takes a generous sip from the bowl and sets it before the helmet cat. "I hope your most interesting suggestion has not doomed you... or Ms Kimefe, and hence yourself, Dutchess."
"We can mourn the dead once we are certain we will not join them, Professor... if one who displays such emotion is indeed an academic. We must keep clear heads to preserve what we can from this fiasco, though I would indeed like to hear the Baron's answers to your questions." She glances briefly at the sinister figure on the balcony, then shrugs.
"In the meantime, though, the orchestra is wonderful. To ignore them would be to dishonor their efforts." She strolls to Vorian Ritter's side. "You seem a man of good sense. Would you care to dance while others carry on their fruitless pantomimes of interrogations?
"Madame, while I most certainly appreciate your frustration -- I myself did not expect this gathering to be so fraught with peril -- I believe the respectable amount of energy you have shown would better serve in finding a solution to our shared predicament," at this, Von Zombi waves a decrepit hand to indicate the knots of whispering people about the room, "rather than railing at, for lack of a better word, the personification of our Fate; nor, for that matter, should such talent be wasted in whispering futilely in corners, not knowing what manner of ear is receiving your words."
Von Zombi's chest gurgles as he faces the cat.
"Your Grace, I believe your idea is quite worthwhile, if rough. May I suggest that, if such a strategy makes the sleuths among us more easily tracked for the vile shadow-dwellers, it also makes it easier for us to protect the more talented among us as well?"
"Most Holy, your words of caution are wise, truth, but I believe the Duchess' suggestion is the closest we have come thus far to a workable strategy."
"Milady Cat, that is quite interesting. Of course there is the problem that I have heard one assassin is so grotesquely paranoid, that he can stop a detection with lethal consequences." she takes a sip of her drink.
"Dance? With such a beauty, of course my darlink." Andrezi allows himself to be led away and proves to be quite the dashing dancer as he twirls and moves with grace and style. He returns to answer the others after being dazzled, immediately being dazzled once more by the delightful Cassie. "Ah, a smart girl and beautiful, now I wonder pretty girl would make pretty good partner for after holding lands. Perhaps Ryuko give adjoining lands, huh?" He starts at the Duchess, having never seen a Helmetcat before. Is not so difficult to tell I suppose. Sounds like weird android-man from home. The large Slav has no interest in Meowselsworth's plan. "Is foolish to tell cat who is who. Must not only trust cat, but also trust those who trust cat. Is nothing stopping people from lies, yes?" The General he eyes darkly. "You going to talk to everyone? Andrezi has no need to talk to you. Denikov's are good family, no cowards, no assassins. Need not answer to likes of 'military genius'." He says, his scorn undisguised. "And you expect us listen to man with weapons hidden?" He accuses.
Cassie arches an eyebrow at Andrezi's proposition. An amused but intrigued smile as she sees him accuse the General.
She bites her lip awaiting the response from the gruff older gentleman.
"Indeed, Ms. DuSollier. Fortunately, the detectives are the only ones who know their own names: this is as random as possible while keeping things orderly and workable past my death. This is actually why I do not suggest that the detectives investigate me and be done with it instead of trusting me outright: Right now, I make myself a clear target for this. I would also ask the protector not to protect me for the same reason, which is why I would like to suggest strategies that are workable past my death," says Duchess Meowselsworth, "I have suspicions that Mr. Wowbagger knows the proper helmet cat disposal procedures and may be able to carry them out when the time comes, an inevitable punishment for being so immediately vocal and focused at the task at hand. The lives of others are more important to me than the land, a lesson learned from my late mother. My title will be passed down to my eldest daughter, Kittington von Meowselsworth III, and she will do well enough I am sure. Also, I would like to suggest we ignore titles and only count first names in our searching strategy. I will compile a list of everyone present in alphabetical order, so our detectives would know they are using the same strategy. I suggest after my death, someone else continue to do the same."
"I have had plenty of suggestions for our detectives, and I reiterate that it would be beneficial to connect them together and I would be willing to be a mediator for that information. I am trying to think of a good long term strategy for those more gifted among us," says Meowselsworth mildly, before adding to Rashida, "I do not mind making myself a target. We are stuck here, and some of the more greedy among us may think this a mere game where they gamble for profit, but we are here with assassins among us. Which is not to say I am not greedy: I just value lives above property. Anyways, now that my rambling is done for a few minutes, who would like the pleasure of giving me pets? My fur is rather soft."
"Also, Mr. Denikov, I am accounting for lies. If three people tell me they are Detectives, then we have an interesting situation where we know one is a liar. The only one who has motivation to lie to me is an assassin," says Meowselsworth, "This would be the quickest way for an assassin to expose themselves: If I have three people claiming to be detectives, we will immediately know that one is a liar, and I shall not share their identities amongst themselves."
"Fair enough, the strategy is fairly sound. I can see certain problems that could arise if those with mystical abilities survive as dawn approaches." The young French lady says.
"Of course you imply that you are simply an Aristocat, not that any of your abilities or claims are of my concern." her cultured voice has a warm lilt.
"Of course if you are a paranoid Stalker. You are encouraging someone to scry you! And this will cause their death. To all out their I say do not scry this fluffy helmetcat, at least not this hour."
Kimefe stands at the back of the group, picking lightly at the various foodstuffs but not joining in any of the conversation. She is seemingly unperturbed by the thought of assassins and is overall rather bored with the entire event.
"Ah, La petit belle speaks true. Those who watch can be caught by... how you say... stalker?" Andrezi smiles at the party with his widest grin.
Vorian raises a brow as Ingilstadt pushes his cane aside, only to smirk when Eldon gives him praise for the action. He allows the cane to flip in his hand and grabs it halfway down its length, before lowering it to his side. He lets out a chuckle, momentarily taking a sip from his glass.
"Just like an officer - let your pawns do the dirty work. Perhaps you are legitimate after all. A thousand apologies, then. If it will grant me escape from this god-forsaken place, then I will lend you my full cooperation. After all, our lives are perhaps our greatest treasures. And I must say, I value treasure."
He spins his cane once, twice, and then drives its tip into the floor.
"But consider this! Our foundation to lay guilt is as nonexistent as our safety! Any claim to tangible proofs we may hold may fall into irrelevance, dismissed as fabrication, and whether they are such or made to be such will not matter. By the end of this hour, any two of us will die. And regardless of what any of us might say, including the good General, at the moment we can only rely on chance - and that, is Chaos incarnate. But I digress, I will lend you my loyalty regardless. After all, this is only a game."
At Alessandra's outburst, Eldon mutters to himself. "Such a carefree attitude, there will always be casualties in war. And this is a war for our own survival."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"A good suggestion, Duchess. Perhaps we can compare notes later. Always did like cats."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eldon gives a chortle at Andrezi's words. "You mean to call this paltry trinket a weapon?" He pulls out the small knife and flips it in the air. "If you are worried about this, then you would be most impressed by my unarmed skill. Of course, if you'd like to draw suspicion to yourself by not submitting, then feel free to join the ranks of the suspected." He turns to Cassie. "I hope you have a pleasant dance, and if you don't end up a victim, perhaps we could share a dance later while I question you. Not all of my skills are military in nature." He offers a bow before returning to Ingilstadt.
"Now back to your possible motivations for killing everyone here. Your family history does present a motive, but motive alone isn't enough to hang you. How about you tell me when you make your first kill, how do you plan to do it?"
"I have already recommended not scanning me, or bothering to protect me, Ms. DuSollier. Perhaps you missed that in my rambling. I suspect I shall be stalked and perhaps killed, and I do not want to expose our detectives or protectors to excessive risk," says Meowselsworth, some annoyance at the suggestion. "Anyways, I am just trying to establish order, because chaos means victory for assassins."
"Sensible words, I did catch that I just wished to extract and amplify the point." Cassie says, looking at her empty glass.
Wowbagger smiles at the cat. "The detective manual is probably much like the galactic agent manual. Revealing your identity is discouraged. The old Wowbagger would insult you and vote against you. The new Wowbagger asks you to please reevaluate your strategy."