pleased to meet you

[sailmods]

CW: murder

[it is the morning of the 17th when the usual morning announcement is replaced with the sort of tentative, nervous tone that Friday takes on immediately before something insane happens.]

Good morning, passengers! It's, um... Well, I sure hope everyone had an interesting time on their shore excursion! The Captain sure did! In fact, he had such a good time, he's asked me to inform you all that, tonight, he's going to be hosting his usual captain's formal in the main dining room, but with a twist! This time, it's going to be a, um... victory party! For Natsuno! Because he won! [small laugh] And also to celebrate the opening of a new shop on the Promenade! Gosh, and that really is something to celebrate; I haven't seen that happen since he--

[LOUD STATIC NOISES]

-- Yes, well! The dress code will be cruise formal; everyone can find a new set of clothes in their cabin to celebrate the occasion! I-- Oh, right, we'll see you all tonight! 8PM sharp!

[the connection cuts off. today, for the first time that anyone can remember, Friday can't be found in the atrium. or any other room. smoke 'em if you got 'em.

at 8PM sharp, the door to the dining room swings open. it is mostly empty: the only tables left are a dozen or so under the main chandelier. there are name cards at each table setting, written in Friday's neat script; the seatings seem mostly random, except for everyone who was on the island, who will find themselves at a table with their killer and/or victim(s). except Natsuno, of course, whose name is displayed proudly at the head table, next to an unnamed place. once they are inside, all of them find themselves under the same sort of compulsion that they felt during the muster drill, and their legs will stop working until they have gone to their assigned seats.

Friday enters the room first, dressed up nicely, but with hunched shoulders and her hands clasped firmly in front of her. the door shuts behind her. she says nothing, and acknowledges no one, not even Natsuno, as she takes her spot behind the chair.

a few fashionable minutes pass. it starts as smoke pouring out from under the door, moving towards the table as it slowly solidifies into the form of... a rather normal-looking man. he sits, cross-legged, in the chair that Friday pulls out for him. he looks over the assembled crowd, visibly considering something... there is a flash of silver in the light, and the knife he'd had in his sleeve is across Friday's throat quicker than she can react, and she falls bonelessly to the ground, a spray of arterial blood across the table setting.]

There, perfect.

[he looks out at them again. and he smiles. the knife is placed back in his sleeve, and he holds his hands out, palms up.]

Well. Here's your chance. [he waves a hand lazily, and the compulsion keeping them seated fades like pins and needles.] Try not to embarrass yourselves.

Comments

[pineapplesalmon]

"True. I'll be happy to keep this." Mmm. Still sarcasm, ignore all you want.

"No." The response is immediate as César frowns. "Someone I know who's better at small talk is already talking to him. Putting myself at risk, too, is redundant and unnecessary."

[makesomedeals]

"So you're simply going to stand here. Against the wall. For the entirety of the night. That is your plan?"

He sounds less than impressed by this.

[pineapplesalmon]

César's breathes in a laugh through his nose, the corner of his lip twitching for a moment. "No. Just until this passes."

He doesn't want to see Johnny die from close up. There's nothing he can do. So, here he is.

[makesomedeals]

"Would you like a knife? I left one in Ebalon I can retrieve should you want to be armed."

WOW THIS DIDN'T POST

[pineapplesalmon]

César lets out a snort-laugh, surprising himself. "That... shouldn't be funny."

[makesomedeals]

He gestures around to the chaos, "Considering all of this, it really should be."

Ava is eating two lobsters at once while Natsuno is flipping tables and Mizuki and Ebalon are in each others laps.

"In all seriousness though, maybe you should be bringing a gun to such events."

[pineapplesalmon]

A shrug. "I'm not usually the type for dark and bloody humor."

Not to mention, Johnny's now talking to the captain with Watson nearby.

"Guns are fairly useless in crowded situations without an incredible amount of training, and even then, they could still be too dangerous to use. Too risky, and too likely for bystanders to be shot, and too likely to be useless against those with nonstandard abilities." Arms crossed, he looks over the crowd, considering. "I'm armed in my own way."

[makesomedeals]

There's a long moment where Max just stares at him.

"I'm going to say something that's going to seem absurd considering what I am, but if you plan logically for every inevitability you're going to be doomed to inaction. You can't actually calculate all probabilities."

There's something weirdly robotic about how César thinks that Max relates to, but he's also doing a very common Omnic thing: if the probability of success is less than a certain percentage, then don't do it at all. But that's not how life works, Max's time owning a casino had proven that, something with a .05% chance will still hit on occassion.

[pineapplesalmon]

After Max says that, there's a long moment where César to stare right back at him. "... I'm really that obvious, aren't I? Even if I'm successful in curtailing my calculations, and even in this case, my statement is based on advice from the field combined with knowing my extreme inexperience with firearms."

César has been accused enough of thinking like a robot that he doesn't need even the slightest elaboration.

[makesomedeals]

"It's obvious to me anyway. Because even if it doesn't seem like it, my entire being is based on calculations, constantly running. But there's very much a point where the calculations don't matter. It's the action that's important."

This feels like a strange reversal where Max is trying to explain how to human to a human. Sometimes it's better to do things based off feelings than off of complicated equations. If that's what the situation calls for, and knowing when that was is the hardest part.

"As a very minor example, what's more important: knowing that your jacket is green, or knowing that it's #717655?"

[pineapplesalmon]

"Green. Especially since my eyes aren't as good as yours." César chuckles warmly, a smile returning to his face full-force, and uncrosses his arms, putting a hand on Max's shoulder. "I get your point, and you're entirely right. I used to really suffer decision paralysis as a teenager. Too many possibilities, too many calculations... I was a bit of a mess, to be honest."

He glances back along the crowd, giving Max's shoulder a momentary squeeze of gratitude before crossing his arms again and leaning against the wall. "I got over it, though. When I was nearly 17, my baby brother was born. Best cure I never would've come up with, myself. Even as a baby, he was so incredibly spontaneous that I learned I'd better think on my feet for many situations. I can't predict everything or sometimes even anything. Rex taught me that."

[makesomedeals]

"It's not that they're good, it's that I see things in code. It's different than your vision." More precise for starters, and he can see in the dark, but he also sees way too much information all the time. It would be nice if he could turn that off for a while and just look at things without processing them. But alas, that's not how he's made.

He doesn't flinch at the hand this time, even though he's still not really comfortable being touched. He'll allow it because he knows César.

"I see. Good, because you can't calculate everything, and if you try - you'll be miserable." And this is coming from a literal robot so, he definitely means it. "Don't fall back into that here."

moar sharpie

[pineapplesalmon]

"That's what I meant; I overgeneralized. I suppose one part of the proof I won't fall back on overthinking. And I have people who are good at stopping me here."

César shrugs and then glances sidelong at Max with a small, amused smile. "I'm highly specialized in both artificial intelligence and robotics, mostly at the molecular level but also at a similar macrolevel to you."

He hmmms for a moment in thought, glancing back at Johnny's conversation again, frowning a bit when he sees Johnny blow smoke in the Captain's face. "Which reminds me... how much do you want to share with me about how you're built in case of an emergency? We know now that you will get revived in a similar process to organics like me, so it's unnecessary to share much if any information about your critical systems. It may however be useful for limb repair, since I could find the necessary materials ahead of time.

[makesomedeals]

At least that conversation hasn't come to blows, or gunshots yet.

"I could but we'd need machining capabilities, wires, alloys, welding supplies. And as far as I know we don't have those here? Additionally if I lose limbs that's not going to be easy to repair, I'm not designed to come apart."

He is not an action figure with swappable pieces.

[pineapplesalmon]

Yet. And this conversation is the only thing keeping him from freaking out.

César is looking incredibly apologetic now as he speaks. "I'm aware. ... I'm also aware that we have... some supplies in the Infirmary. They're, well, a bit of a mockery, to be honest."

tw: suicide mention

[makesomedeals]

"I wasn't expecting there to be much of anything. In all seriousness if I get damaged enough it's probably easier for me to off myself and wait to come back."

Not that he's looking forward to that now that he knows stupid actions have stupid consequences.

"I guess I should stop picking fights with people who can throw moons."

tw: assisted suicide mention

[pineapplesalmon]

"Likely." A pause, and then he shakes his head in a sort of horrified amusement, as if he can't believe he's about ready to say what he's saying. "If you find yourself too damaged to get to a source of water easily, let me know, and I can throw you in the pool or something. It might be better if I do so, even. Pirate Jenny preferred to be murdered rather than do it herself to demonstrate the revival process for some reason."

An unconventional way to repair an Omnic, but also one that works.

"... Did you at least manage to hurt him?" César is definitely interested, because fuck that moon throwing bastard, he murdered one of his boyfriends while he and his other boyfriend watched.

[makesomedeals]

"It would actually be quicker to shoot me, so you should still get that gun we talked about earlier." Dying in water is guaranteed, but it'snot exactly quick, and would probably be extremely painful to fry himself. He'll still do it, but it might not be his preferred method.

Great now he needs to think up what is his suicide preference.

"I electrocuted him until he bled." Said with the barest hint of pride, he'd half expected Ebalon to be so powerful that he wouldn't be able to touch him. So being able to get anything on him felt good.

[pineapplesalmon]

"I'm sure I can find one I can borrow until my stubbornness subsides enough about needing one of my own." César really doesn't want a gun, but he suspects that horror cruise eventually means fighting zombies, and he'll need one then, so he's tired resigned to this.

"... A bit more hardcore than I can applaud but, well. At least you got him." César was hoping for a light stabbing or something, and even then, that feels like he's betraying his morals.

[makesomedeals]

"I wasn't armed at the time, I was working with what I had. Unfortunately I didn't get to keep my machine gun." said with a hint of sadness, he really loved that thing.

"I did stab him about twenty minutes ago so there's that. And it was extremely satisfying."

[pineapplesalmon]

César wonders if Omnics were mostly designed in the United States as Max mourns his machine gun. "Unfortunately. ... I did see the recent stabbing, and I feel a bit terrible for appreciating it."

Someone's learning more about himself every day.

[makesomedeals]

They were not, though there is a facility there. Or was anyway. He was made in Europe. Mostly he was enjoying shooting something with actual bullets instead of lasers, its so much more satisfying to have shell casings going everywhere. He was living his 1920's Chicago mobster dreams.

"Don't feel terrible. You didn't do the stabbing, you're allowed to enjoy it." Shrugging, humans and their pesky morality.

[pineapplesalmon]

Ah, Europe. That explains absolutely nothing. And César's enjoying dressing up in clothes from the same timeframe. Can he really judge? (Yes.)

"I'm supposed to disapprove of stabbing. Most of the time. ... I suppose there are exceptions."

Then he stands up straight and drops his crossed arms, looking alarmed. "Shit. I thought we were supposed to be keeping it a secret?!"

[makesomedeals]

"Says who? You can approve or disapprove of whatever you want." His eyeroll is intense. Or would be if César was even looking at him.

"Doing what now?" Well now he's just confused looking between Johnny and and Watson and César. He's definitely not putting things together, but he also doesn't care so that's not helping.

[pineapplesalmon]

That subject is dropped, sorry, because now he's dealing with rising panic.

"Our relationship. The three of us." Quickly, barely glancing at Max. "I have to go."