Archive of Our Own

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I didn't expect to see you again so soon, officer."

"What brings you back to Martinaise?"

YOU — "I've imprinted on it like a baby duckling."

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Many do. I certainly did. Is your leg feeling better?"

YOU — "Not really. I have a week's medical leave."

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I hope you recover soon. In the meantime, feel free to have a look around."

"Actually..." He falls silent for a moment, his gaze remaining on you. "How much experience do you have with tare?"

YOU — "Tare?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Bottles, broken cookware, stuff washed up on the shore. People think that it's only tare if you can drop it off at a Frittte, but it's a lot more than that."

"How much experience would you say you have with that type of item?"

YOU — "Centuries."

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "And do you know anything about public speaking?"

YOU — "Wait, where are you going with this?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Well, I had the idea for a radio show a couple of nights back. Appraising the value of tare. It could be very interesting with the right items."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] — Look around you. This man knows what the right items are.

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I've got blank tapes to record it on, and there's a vacant timeslot on the Union's public radio station. All I would need are some appraisers."

YOU — "You can't appraise them yourself?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Running a pawn shop has left my photons incompatible with handling tare. If I were twenty years younger, maybe I could do it on my own, but not anymore."

YOU — "But isn't tare worthless?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I don't expect the sums to be very high, but it's about the journey more than the destination."

YOU — "Who would listen to this? How is this show supposed to make money?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "It's public radio, man. Union-funded."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] — It's unclear if these are his whole thoughts on the matter, but you're not likely to get anything less laconic out of him.

YOU — "So you were wondering if I'm a good fit for an appraiser?" (Proceed.)

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I believe you are. You're one of the most tare-aligned people I've ever met, officer."

ENDURANCE [Challenging: Failure] — Are you? It's so much work rummaging through trash cans, scooping it out of gutters, lugging it back to the Frittte while worrying the bag is going to rip...

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I expect evaluating it would come easily to you."

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Formidable: Success] — There's definitely some trash knowledge stored away here somewhere. Origin unknown.

SHIVERS [Challenging: Success] — Outside, a flimsy paper box which at one time held Samaran food stands hardily against the wind. Approximate value: 0.01 reál.

YOU — "Would I be paid for this?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Certainly. You'd be compensated by ten cents per appraised item."

YOU — "And how many items would I appraise?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Maybe fifteen in thirty minutes. That's how long the show would last."

LOGIC [Medium: Success] — If you do this every day for a workweek, you'd come back 7.50 reál richer. Not much of a profit.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] — Who cares about profit? You could end up handling some very intriguing items -- you could do it for free and it would still be worth it.

RHETORIC [Trivial: Success] — Wait -- before you say anything, ask him:

YOU — "Is this a serious job offer we're talking about right now?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I suppose it is, if you're interested."

YOU — "If I have something better to be doing, I've forgotten it. I'll take the job." (Accept task.)

New task: Appraise tare

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Wonderful. I should be able to work everything out by tomorrow. Can you start then?"

YOU — Just smile and whip out your finger pistols.

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Did you hear me, officer?"

YOU — "Um. Yes, I can start tomorrow."

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I'll see you then, officer."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — The tracksuited man hunches over the counter, whispering something to the shopkeep. When you step closer, his head whips around towards you and he raises an arm:

"Tequila!"

YOU — (Nod.) "Idiot Doom Spiral. What are you doing here?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — He steps closer, surprisingly in control of himself. "The better question is, what are *you* doing here? I thought you left town with those cop-friends of yours. The ones who were cramping your style."

YOU — "I'm off work for a week." (Point to your leg.)

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "And you have nowhere better to spend them than Martinaise, huh?" He makes a strange, possibly unintentional gesture with his left hand. "Well, I'm not one to talk. Those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Or, I guess hobos shouldn't throw rocks at other hobos."

"But anyway. *I'm* here because I just got offered the deal of a lifetime, Tequila. It's the gateway to a practically unlimited supply of centims."

YOU — "Uh-oh."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "The pawnbroker over there," he flicks his hand at him, "is paying me to appraise *tare*. Evaluate pieces of it like they're antiques. You know, tare, the shit I sleep in." He brushes something off of the chest of his tracksuit.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Easy: Success] — We have competition? This is bad. You need to figure out how much he's getting out of this deal.

YOU — "No shit?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "A total lack of shit, Tequila."

YOU — "For how much?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Never ask a man his salary." He smirks.

SUGGESTION [Medium: Success] — There's no way that Roy is giving this guy more money than you -- or even as much.

YOU — "Five cents per?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Exactly right." His face is completely unchanged, smirk and all. "Five shiny cents for five minutes of staring at a plastic bottle."

LOGIC [Easy: Success] — Assuming he also appraises fifteen pieces of tare in thirty minutes, he makes three reál and seventy-five cents a week. Not exactly a living wage.

YOU — "Isn't turning tare into the Frittte more profitable?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "And as long as I'm doing that on the side, the profit margin is even higher." By his side, his fingers grasp for a flask that isn't there. "Trust me, Tequila. It's a good deal."

YOU — "Well, guess what? I'm doing the same thing -- as long my leg is still healing." (Proceed.)

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Really? Looks like we'll be rivals for the next week, or however long your leg's fucked up for."

"Personally, I'm pretty confident I can out-appraise you. But I guess we'll see, won't we?"

EMPATHY [Challenging: Success] — The promise of friendly competition makes something stir beneath the veil of his eyes -- something from a previous life.

YOU — "You're on, Doom Spiral."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Well, I'll see you later, Tequila. I've got to get ready for my big *debut.*" He gives you a two-finger salute, then pushes open the door.

YOU — (Approach the counter.) "You hired him, too, huh?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I had to fill an extra half-hour." He shrugs. "I'm sure he'll be a reliable appraiser."

SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Success] Now's your chance for some sabotage...

YOU — "He's not, trust me. Best just to let him go."

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Maybe. But he's on in five minutes, and there are already people waiting in line outside."

SAVOIR FAIRE — Dammit. Come back to this. There's got to be a way to convince him that Doom Spiral isn't worth it.

New task: Take down Idiot Doom Spiral

YOU — "That was bullshit. There's no way that bottle's worth more than the ten cents you'd get turning it in to the Frittte."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Are you really getting on my ass about *tare* right now?"

"The crowd loved it, Tequila. That's what matters. Isn't it exciting to imagine that some of the bottles you're pissing into could be worth as much as fifty cents?"

COMPOSURE [Easy: Success] — Loved it? The most you can say about the crowd is that they didn't look *totally* bored.

YOU — "This can't be what Roy had in mind. There need to be rules about this kind of thing."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Listen, Tequila, you're on in two. My suggestion: a little *creative appraisal* never hurt anybody." Before you can reply, he slips inside the shack to collect his forty cents.

TABLE — You head over to the wooden table in front of the store, the one you'll be standing in front of for the next half-hour. It's covered in a stained blue tarp that looks like it's seen better days.

A loose semicircle of Martinaise has gathered around you. This is what passes for public entertainment these days.

INTERFACING [Trivial: Success] — A small microphone sits on the edge of the tarp, its cord trailing down and behind you under the door of the shop.

BIRD'S NEST ROY — The pawnbroker's hand emerges from behind the door, giving a thumbs up. It's showtime.

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] — Time to introduce yourself, Harry. Let the people know: what kind of appraiser are you?

DRAMA [Easy: Success] — You know exactly how to approach this -- *characteristically!*

1. "Hello. My name is Harry Du Bois, and I am He Who Bemouths the End. Today, we'll be finding out the value of the tare that the doomed people of Martinaise have found."
2. "Hello. My name is Harry Du Bois, and I have no idea how to appraise items or do anything, really. I'm kind of a piece of shit, actually. Sorry if you were getting your hopes up."
3. "Hello. My name is Harry Du Bois, and I'm normally a policeman. For the next thirty minutes, I'll be appraising the items brought to this table. They're not worth much, and it's not going to be very interesting."
4. "Hello. My name is Harry Du Bois, and I'm a detective-cum-superstar moonlighting as an appraiser until my next gig comes in. The appraisals you're about to hear are *real*."

DRAMA — Excellent! Keep that energy going the whole way through and you'll do fine.

TABLE — Your first *honoured guest* approaches. She drops an empty bottle of wine onto the table -- from too great a height. It shatters.

TABLE — It's nearly been thirty minutes already. The last person steps up to the table, setting a small, circular box down on it.

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST — You recognise this man. He was with the cryptozoologist when you rescued them both from across the waterlock.

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] — The cryptofascist, yes. Make sure he knows you remember that about him.

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST — "Officer!" he exclaims. "I didn't know you were back here."

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] — One thing's different from the last time you saw him. He's wearing a black hat, slightly tattered and, for some reason, dirty.

YOU — (Say nothing. Inspect the box.)

TABLE — It's a squat cylinder, covered in leather and mud. It smells like silt.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Challenging: Success] — Is this even tare? It feels like it's on the very edge of the category.

YOU — "What makes you say this is tare?"

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST — "It's a hatbox."

YOU — "Okay. Why is a hatbox tare?"

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST — "Well, I found it floating by the pier." He taps it, producing a hollow sound. "But it's still in remarkable condition."

YOU — "Hm." (Inspect the box further, but reluctantly.)

PERCEPTION (TOUCH) [Challenging: Success] — As you lay your hands on the hatbox, the most apparent thing is the mud. It's thoroughly caked on all across the surface of the box, except around the clasp, where it's been cleared away.

LOGIC [Easy: Success] — This suggests that it was opened recently.

YOU — "The mud around the clasp has been cleared away. Gary, you didn't happen to open the box before you brought it in, did you?"

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST — "Of course not." He shakes his head. "I know that's not allowed."

REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] — There's mud on his new hat. There's mud on his new hatbox -- that he's never opened?

YOU — "But it is allowed. It wouldn't be a problem if you had opened it."

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST — He stares down at the box. "But would it affect the appraisal value?"

LOGIC [Easy: Success] — A box with something in it is worth more money than an empty box.

YOU — "Yes, it would."

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST — He purses his lips. "Well, I really didn't open it. I wouldn't lie about something like this, officer."

YOU — (Let it go.) "All right."

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST — His eyes glide nervously between you and the box.

YOU — [Interfacing: Medium 10] How much is this thing worth?

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] — It's remarkably structurally intact, and would still serve as a fine container, but being covered in mud and having been floating in the sea depreciates its value for hygienic reasons, if nothing else.

As it is, it's in the neighbourhood of sixty cents.

YOU — "You're right, it's in remarkable condition. An empty box like this would go for around sixty cents."

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST — "Sixty cents?" He sounds affronted. "I spent fifteen minutes fishing this thing out of the water."

YOU — "Well, it would be worth more if there were something in it."

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST — He looks down at the box, his brow furrowing in deep contemplation. He lays his hands on the table as though to steady himself. His hat, ill-fitting, is beginning to slip off of his head.

REACTION SPEED — You have to bring up the hat. If you don't do it now, it might be never.

YOU — "That's a... nice hat you're wearing."

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST — He looks up suddenly, as though roused from a stupour. "Thank you, officer. This is actually my wife's hat."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] — He's not married.

YOU — (Be decisive.) "You're not married."

BIRD'S NEST ROY — The door to the pawn shop swings open, creaking on its hinges in a wooden scream. The pawnbroker emerges.

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] — He looks unnatural in the sunlight, like it should turn him to ash.

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "We're done recording," he says. "Good work today. I assume you'd be interested in returning tomorrow?"

SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Success] — Obviously. You won't stop until Doom Spiral stops.

YOU — "Of course!"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I'm glad to hear it." He picks up the microphone and starts spooling up its cable. "Come inside and we'll discuss payment."

Task updated: Appraise tare

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — Your colleague is in the middle of an appraisal. He's tossing a small cube from hand to hand. It looks heavy.

"Unfortunately," he tells the old man before him, "I don't see a way for this filament memory to be salvaged."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] — His speech is almost totally unslurred. Is he sober?

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "But I've seen damaged memories like this go for upwards of..."

A smirk. "...fifty reál!" He reaches out to shake the old man's hand.

DRAMA [Medium: Success] — Building suspense and camaraderie -- these are the techniques of a practiced showman, sire.

BIRD'S NEST ROY — A buzzer sounds from inside the pawn shop. Doom Spiral steps inside through the crowd, re-emerging a moment later, counting coins.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Success] — He's not even getting paid in banknotes? How is he supposed to feel accomplished?

YOU — "Looks like someone's not important enough to get the black gills."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Huh? Oh, Tequila!" He pockets the money. "I'll see some bills in time, believe you me. It's called working your way up. Learn it."

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] — He's slurring his words again. If he could stop just for the show, he's far better at controlling it than almost any drunk alive.

SUGGESTION [Medium: Success] — You can call him out for his deception in front of a crowd right now. No small talk -- they might stop listening.

YOU — (Loudly.) "I don't know if you'll ever work your way up when you're BLATANTLY LYING like that."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — He puts his hands up defensively. "Whoa, since when are you such a tight-ass? What happened to the Driver of the Apocalypse?"

YOU — (Louder.) "I guess I just get really annoyed when people LIE TO THE PUBLIC about HOW MUCH THEIR STUFF IS WORTH."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — He doesn't reply. He just makes a face -- ostensibly at you, but you know he's still playing to the crowd. It's an insanely smug face.

SUGGESTION [Formidable: Failure] — It's the *get-a-load-of-this-guy* face. There's no defence against it. You look like a clown.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Challenging: Success] — What are you doing? He's not going to stop because you're berating him. You're going to have to beat him at his own game.

YOU — (Withdraw.) "Khm. Just keep in mind -- it's not fair."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Life isn't fair." With that truism, he rambles off.

REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] — Terrible comeback. Word of advice -- if all you can come up with is a cliché, it's best not to say anything at all.

BIRD'S NEST ROY — You step inside the pawn shop, where Roy is fiddling with the professional-looking tape recorder.

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] — You only have about a minute to make your case that there should be rules. Make him care.

YOU — "Seeing those people, totally unaware that their tare is just tare... should this really be allowed?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I understand how you feel." He doesn't look away. "Some sort of regulation would be ideal."

YOU — "So? Why don't we regulate things? You're the boss."

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I don't want to drive George away."

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Formidable: Success] — George -- Doom Spiral's first name. Had to dredge deep in the canal for that one.

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Like you, he's incredibly tare-aligned. He can identify all the relevant features of an item -- the ones that give it material or spiritual value. It's only in the final sums that he becomes deceptive."

"In terms of informing the public, they're better served by his appraisals than you might think."

YOU — "Informing the public? How many people actually listen to this show?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Nothing's gone to air yet, but I have it on good authority that we could find ourselves with upwards of eight listeners."

RHETORIC [Challenging: Success] — Eight? You could be getting a message out to over eight living people? How have you not taken advantage of this before?

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "In any case, we'll discuss more after recording."

TABLE — You return to the tarp-covered table. Some item brought before Idiot Doom Spiral has left an unpleasant amount of muddy water pooling in the folds of the tarp.

RHETORIC — All right. The people trust you. It's time to tell them what they should really care about.

1. "Hello. You're listening to Martinaise Tare Appraisal. I'm Harry Du Bois, here to remind you that you should always spay and neuter your pets."
2. "Hello. You're listening to Martinaise Tare Appraisal. I'm Harry Du Bois, here to remind you that shows like this help stop other nations from dominating Revacholian culture."
3. "Hello. You're listening to Martinaise Tare Appraisal. I'm Harry Du Bois, here to remind you that the desperation on display here is the direct result of the violence of international capital, and, having been given no mercy, we will offer no mercy in kind."
4. "Hello. You're listening to Martinaise Tare Appraisal. I'm Harry Du Bois, here to remind you that no entrepreneur worth his salt will turn his nose up at collecting and reselling tare."

CUNO — The kid is just barely taller than the table. You nearly wouldn't have caught him if his hair didn't stand out from the background.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Formidable: Success] — It's a weirdly proportioned table -- too tall to be a dining table, unless you also had tall chairs, and too wide to be a coffee table. Maybe it would fit in a library?

AUTHORITY [Challenging: Failure] — Oh fuck, this kid... just don't get confrontational and maybe this will be fine.

YOU — "Cuno! You're not surprised to see me again?"

CUNO — "The Cuno has eyes everywhere, pig. Cuno's been watching his pig the second he limped into town."

REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] — Did he really see you in the fishing village? What was he doing there?

CUNO — Before you can ask, his goblin-like face contorts as he heaves a briefcase onto the table, shaking it with the collision.

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] — The leather is blue-black, like the ocean at night.

YOU — Inspect it.

CUNO — He grabs the briefcase, sliding it towards him. "This is Cuno's property, pig. Cuno doesn't let f****ts touch his property."

AUTHORITY — F****t? Okay, never mind, we're getting confrontational. Say the first thing.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] — But the second thing makes more sense. It *doesn't* have his name on it.

RHETORIC [Easy: Success] — No, don't get smart with him at all. It won't help.

YOU — (Let go of the briefcase.)

AUTHORITY — This is an utter disgrace. You may as well give him your badge while you're at it.

CUNO — He lets go of the briefcase, peeking out from behind it to eye you warily.

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] — It goes beyond paranoia -- he feels that you *should* try to take it from him. Why?

YOU — [Perception: Medium 11] Inspect it from a distance.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) — [Medium: Failure] It's impossible to focus on the details in the blue-black sea, if there are any to focus on in the first place. You just end up squinting.

Your eyes blur, resting on the bright rectangle on the corner of this side of the briefcase. It's relaxing.

REACTION SPEED [Challenging: Success] — Bright rectangle? Wait, is that...

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) — ...a halogen watermark? It is. The now-familiar, somewhat distorted grid of Revachol West unblurs before you, and above it, the letters RCM.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] — If he was recently in the fishing village, and he suddenly has this in his possession, then there's only one place he's likely to have gotten it from.

YOU — "Cuno, is this *my* briefcase? Did you take this from my car?"

CUNO — "Yeah, pig. Cuno fished that shit out of your little wee-woo wagon. Was covered in seaweed and shit."

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] — On second inspection -- yes, the briefcase is quite severely water-damaged.

COMPOSURE [Formidable: Success] — You are out of negative things to feel about your sunken motor carriage. At this point, it's just kind of funny.

YOU — "Well, can I have it? It's mine."

CUNO — "Fuck no, pig! The Cuno doesn't play fair like that. Finders keepers. You want it, you have to pay up."

SUGGESTION [Medium: Success] — Maybe you should just let him have it? If there's nothing in there, then there's not much harm done.

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] — But if there *is* something in it -- you are looking at one person who should under no circumstances have RCM documents.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Easy: Success] — If you want to buy it off him, you could deliberately lowball the appraisal to trick him into selling it for less.

YOU — [Encyclopedia: Formidable 13] First of all, how much is this actually worth?

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Formidable: Success] — This is an official RCM briefcase, issued within the past five years. Briefcases like this one were probably sold in bulk for thirty to fifty reál each.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Success] — The Citizens Militia is known to invest in its aesthetic. The leather is fine, and the lock is an elegant brass. The frame is likely hickory wood.

INTERFACING [Easy: Success] — The water damage is considerable, however. The lock is broken and the frame might cave in if too much pressure is applied. The leather is missing in places, too, or tufts up.

ENCYCLOPEDIA — Approximate value: 6.50 reál.

YOU — "Cuno, come on. This a special circumstance. There could be stuff I need in there."

CUNO — "Cuno doesn't toss the stuff he needs in the sea, pig. He keeps his mag locked up in his shack."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] — Why mention *mag* rather than anything else? Is that all that's in the briefcase?

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] — Why on earth would you keep just magnesium in a briefcase?

YOU — (Lie.) "Okay, fine. The water damage makes it nearly unusable, but even undamaged, it's not a very nice briefcase. I'm forced to appraise it for no more than... 3.50 reál, but I'm willing to buy it off you for 4.00."

CUNO — The kid looks at the briefcase for a long time. He runs his hands along the leather, fiddles with the broken lock. He's silent.

INTERFACING [Easy: Success] — This is his appraisal. It's much more thorough than yours.

CUNO — Finally: "Cuno's gonna take his chances at auction."

REACTION SPEED [Trivial: Success] — What? No! You need that!

YOU — "Wait, no! I can pay more! 6.50! 7.50!"

CUNO — But the kid is already running away with his prize, smiling devilishly, the briefcase swinging in the wind as his arm dangles. Whatever's in there, you're never seeing it again.

WOMAN WITH A POSTCARD — "Hello." A dark-skinned woman with sunken cheeks, probably about your age, approaches the table. She pulls a thin piece of cardboard from her thick coat and sets it down on the tarp.

"Postcard," she says, "Found it during spring cleaning. Not mine -- no idea how old it is."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Easy: Success] — Oh, come on, this is not tare. If you can sell it to the pawnbroker, whose photons aren't aligned with tare, it's not tare. This is elementary.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Success] — And if it's not tare, who's going to get mad at you for misappraising it? Now's the time to get creative and one-up Doom Spiral.

YOU — Wouldn't the woman with the postcard be mad when she tries to sell it to Roy and finds out how much it's worth?

SAVOIR FAIRE — She'll call it tare, and he won't handle tare. And it's not like there's anyone else around who buys postcards.

YOU — Inspect the postcard.

TABLE — It's a reproduction of a golden ambrotype photograph. The steeple of a Dolorian Church of Humanity rises over the canopy in some tropical locale.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Heroic: Failure] — The exact era of this photograph and even where it was taken is a mystery.

TABLE — It bears the caption: "View from Shantih-Shantih."

YOU — Where's that?

TABLE — Nowhere. It's an idiom -- an imaginary paradise.

YOU — How much is this thing actually worth?

TABLE — Not your department. The postcards you've sold to Roy range between ten and thirty cents. If this is a rarity, it's probably on the higher end of that.

YOU — [Suggestion: Challenging 12] Get creative in your appraisal.

SUGGESTION [Challenging: Failure] — Dial up the emotion. Expensive things are powerful things. She will feel what you feel.

YOU — (Wipe away a tear.) "This is the most beautiful postcard I have ever seen."

WOMAN WITH A POSTCARD — She silently shuffles in place. She's not even looking at you -- just the postcard.

YOU — (Whisper.) "It's sublime. It's perfect. Could this be what the future truly looks like?"

WOMAN WITH A POSTCARD — She's looking at you now, but she doesn't seem impressed, only vaguely bored.

YOU — Fall to your knees in adoration.

WOMAN WITH A POSTCARD — A moment passes, reminding you how much it hurts to kneel on concrete. "So, how much is it worth?" says the woman.

YOU — (Lowball it. Also, get up.) "At least a reál."

WOMAN WITH A POSTCARD — "Really?" She sounds honestly impressed. She takes it from the table, looking at it for a moment before putting it away.

"I was also wondering if you could appraise these."

TABLE — Coins jingle and thunk as they hit the table.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Easy: Success] — This is not tare!

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Trivial: Success] — They're antique coins. A portrait of Guillaume le Lion is embossed on one side.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] — These kinds of coins, featuring an innocence on one side and a suzerain on the other, were discontinued in the last decades of the previous century due to objections from the Founding Party.

YOU — How much are they worth? Are they rare?

ENCYCLOPEDIA — You're not allowed to know. Appraising antique coins is strictly regulated under various pieces of Moralintern legislation. Only persons certified by a Moralintern body or by an approved outside body are authorised to appraise coins.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Success] — Which means you can make just about anything up, and she can't get a second opinion.

YOU — But that's illegal.

SAVOIR FAIRE — And? If they made being a cop illegal, would you stop being a cop?

YOU — Probably, yes.

SAVOIR FAIRE — You can't mean that. You don't mean that. But have it your way -- don't appraise the coins. Be boring.

YOU — "I'm afraid I'm not certified to appraise coins, ma'am."

WOMAN WITH A POSTCARD — "Ah, well." She shrugs as she scoops them back up. "It was worth a shot. Thanks for your time."

EMPATHY [Challenging: Success] — As she turns to leave, you feel a twinge of guilt. She'll never know about your dishonesty -- but she'll remember your honesty. It'll be a case of stolen valour.

YOU — "Wait."

WOMAN WITH A POSTCARD — She stops. "Yes?"

YOU — "I made a mistake with the postcard. It's probably thirty cents or something. Not a hundred."

WOMAN WITH A POSTCARD — "Oh." She doesn't sound very disappointed. She takes it back out and studies it for a moment. "How did you make the mistake?"

YOU — (Lie.) "I just thought it was so beautiful."

WOMAN WITH A POSTCARD — She smiles as she looks at it. "I suppose it is."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — The crowd around your colleague is quite expansive today. They're all hushed as he touches a pen to paper, about to find out whether it can write...

He scrapes a line through the paper with the tip. No ink comes out. He hands the pen back.

"Sorry," he says, and he crosses his arms, "but you'd have to pay someone to take that off your hands."

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] — That's a little harsh. Even broken, that thing's probably worth a good five cents. The spring looks to still function.

BIRD'S NEST ROY — Again, the buzzer sounds from inside. But as Doom Spiral ascends the stairs to the pawn shop, the crowd begins to disperse.

YOU — (Follow him in.) "Where's everybody going?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "They're here for me, Tequila." He flips a coin as he turns to face you. He doesn't pick it up when it falls on the floor. "Word's gotten around that you're the boring one. Nobody wants to listen to you."

YOU — "That can't be true. Roy, what are my ratings?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "Ratings?"

YOU — "You know -- how many people tune in and out when I come on?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "They still haven't put anything on air yet. They're airing what we've got now over next week."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Maybe you'll get your fan club then, Tequila." He starts to leave, but he stops himself just as he reaches the door.

COMPOSURE [Challenging: Success] — Intentionally. He didn't remember anything just now -- this was planned.

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Oh, yeah, a word of warning -- be careful today."

YOU — "Why?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL — "Do you need a reason to be careful? It's a dangerous world." With that, he's out the door -- back to his nest at the edge of the fishing village.

TABLE — You take your place behind the table -- and a deep breath, too.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Success] — Today, Harry, you're going to need to prove that you're at least as cool as that asshole Doom Spiral, or it's all over for your appraisal career.

VOLITION [Challenging: Failure] — Your entire career... this is serious. This is the rest of your life we're talking about.

YOU — As an appraiser? Am I not a cop too?

VOLITION — Still -- think of all the missed opportunities. Missed income.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Formidable: Success] — This is an entire mode of being that will be permanently, violently destroyed.

HALF LIGHT [Easy: Success] — Don't fuck up.

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER — Your surprise at seeing the net picker again is drowned out by the surprise at the fact that she's hauling a long plank of wood with her.

YOU — "Lilienne! It's nice to see you again."

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER — She leans it against the side of the table. "But not the plank?"

She smiles. "Only joking. It's a pleasure to see you, too, officer."

YOU — (Let her call you officer.)

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER — "One of the more civil drunks let me know you were doing this. Told me I should bring this over."

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] — That's why he told you to be careful.

LOGIC [Easy: Success] — But why would he want you to appraise this plank in the first place?

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Challenging: Success] — Forget all that. You're a professional. The first thing you need to know is whether this is tare or not.

YOU — "Did this wash up on the shore?"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER — "Aye, it did. Boardwalk's been crumbling for some time now."

CONCEPTUALIZATION — So it is tare. Good. We can proceed.

YOU — "Do you know why Idiot Doom Spiral -- that's his name -- wanted you to bring this to me?"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER — "Afraid not. It's not even mine -- he went and brought it to me. I don't know why he didn't come to you himself."

SAVOIR FAIRE [Challenging: Success] — This is certainly some attempt at sabotage. But what could be the trick? Is she in on it?

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] — All you can tell from here is that it's likely pinewood. You'll have to get closer for the finer details.

YOU — [Interfacing: Legendary 14] Inspect the plank without getting splintered.

INTERFACING [Legendary: Failure] You reach forth. Almost immediately, as you try to take hold of it, your finger brushes against a sharp edge...

YOU — No!

PAIN THRESHOLD — It's immediately agonising, but you're able to keep control -- until you move your hand. The second that anything brushes against your thumb, the whirlwind of pain begins again. You can feel blood rushing beneath your tortured skin.

YOU — [Pain Threshold: Heroic 15] Appraise the plank through the pain.

PAIN THRESHOLD [Formidable: Failure] — But you're on the verge of collapsing. This is not a normal splinter -- it's lodged deep in your skin, aggravating each and every nerve it meets along the way.

You collapse, undignified, onto your side. Your vision begins to recede. Your breath becomes shallow.

YOU — Am I going to die *again?*

SAVOIR FAIRE — If you're not dead, your career certainly is.

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I really am sorry, officer."

YOU — "You're letting me go? Just like that? Over one little mistake?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "No, not over that," he says. He seems even more distant than usual. "It's the station. They want George to take over your slot. He's simply more popular."

YOU — "And cheaper?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I..." He cuts himself off. "It's not my decision."

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] — The regret is genuine. He doesn't want to see you go.

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "You've been the superior appraiser. You have my gratitude for lending your expertise."

Task failed: Take down Idiot Doom Spiral

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Challenging: Success] — Recognition from one expert to another is worth the adoration of all the masses. You're not leaving empty-handed.

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "If you're interested, there is one more thing you can do on tape."

YOU — "What's that?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "A young man came in here saying he was a friend of yours. He wanted you specifically to appraise something for him."

YOU — "What did he look like?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "I didn't get a good look." He pushes up his sunglasses. "But he wanted a lockbox appraised. We had a discussion of its negative readings. I would tread carefully around it."

YOU — "When would I be appraising it?"

BIRD'S NEST ROY — "12:45 tomorrow. Just after George finishes up."

ENDURANCE [Challenging: Failure] — George... the name should fill you with vengeance, but you can't bring yourself to hold a grudge.

YOU — "I'll see you then."

NOID — The speedfreak pushes forward a heavy metal box with a combination lock, snagging the tarp on it.

"Some Graadian guy -- Zsiemsk, I think -- gave it to us as collateral," he explains. "He's not held up his end of the deal."

"I can't get it open, but it's giving a seriously fucked up sine."

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] — You feel it too. Something unnatural -- warping, dissolving -- is inside that box. Does it want out?

NOID — "Point is, I want to get rid of it ASAP. Whatever's in it is bringing down the vibrations to a dangerous level."

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] — This is not tare. It might contain tare -- but this is not tare. You cannot appraise this.

YOU — "Do you know what's in it?"

NOID — "Guy didn't say. The box looked expensive enough, so we didn't think to ask."

INTERFACING [Challenging: Success] — It's a very finely crafted lockbox. You can tell that just from looking at it. There's no way you can just shake it till it comes open.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — Stop appraising. You're not allowed to appraise.

YOU — Not even for a friend?

CONCEPTUALIZATION — Preserving the artform comes above friendship. You wouldn't let your friend throw shit at a painting, would you?

YOU — "I can't help you. Unless whatever's inside is tare, I'm not qualified."

NOID — "Hm." He strokes the top of the box like it's a cat's head. "You're a detective. You should be able to deduce the combination -- at least for the sake of your cultural image."

LOGIC [Trivial: Success] — No. Dick Mullen antics aside, there's just not enough information.

YOU — How could I get it open, then?

LOGIC — You could try every single one of the millions of combinations, but if you don't want to, you'd have to break it open, or else *divine* the code.

YOU — [Inland Empire: Godly 16] Divine the code.

INLAND EMPIRE [Godly: Success] — 05. 12. 13. 14.

TABLE — The lock releases with a click.

NOID — The speedfreak nods appreciatively. "How'd you know?"

YOU — (Open the box.) "I don't."

TABLE — Inside is a rolled up sheet of paper and nothing else.

YOU — Unfurl the sheet.

TABLE — It's an antique -- you have to be careful not to rip it. As you slowly let it spread across the length of the table, you catch sight of letters in the Graadian alphabet.

Then images begin to form from thin, disparate lines. The contours of a massive structure, something beautiful and impossible. Complex equations line the margins of a sketch of a machine whose purpose you could not possibly identify.

YOU — [Encyclopedia: Impossible 18] What am I looking at?

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Impossible: Success] Something that should not exist.

These are the blueprints of the airship Harnankur, supposedly the first civilian airship to travel between isolas. Its existence is denied by mainstream historians, but accepted as fact in the SRV and by the burgeoning community of "desaparetists," collectors of "disappearance memorabilia."

YOU — Is this a piece of disappearance memorabilia?

ENCYCLOPEDIA — Yes -- it would be the crown jewel of any desaparetist's collection. There are rumours that Harnankur vanished so completely that all traces of it disappeared as well. A surviving trace, such as this, would be incredibly rare.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] — Couldn't this just as easily be a fake produced by a knowledgable desaparetist?

INLAND EMPIRE [Heroic: Failure] — No, it couldn't be. Could it? You're pretty sure it's real, but...

YOU — "This is definitely giving off a negative sine."

NOID — "Do you think it's dangerous?"

INLAND EMPIRE [Challenging: Success] — Yes. Put it away. Immediately.

YOU — (Roll the sheet back up.) "They're schematics for Harnankur -- so you tell me."

NOID — "No way. Samaran? I was getting a Samaran sine off of it -- and not the communist kind."

YOU — (Put the sheet away.) "I think it's genuine."

NOID — "Genuine?" He glances at the re-locked box. "You mean the actual blueprints for the actual ship? This is..."

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] — Terrifying.

YOU — "Terrifying."

NOID — The young man nods slowly. "I'm not gonna become a disappearance junkie. And it wouldn't be right to let this thing fall into some poor sucker's hands."

He looks you in the eye. "We have to burn it."

YOU — "Can't we just throw the box in the sea?"

NOID — "Well, it's a nice box. I want to keep it."

YOU — (Unlock the box.)

TABLE — The blueprints are gone.

YOU — What?

TABLE — The interior of the strongbox is empty. It's bare metal. There's not even any dust.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] — Could they have fallen out somehow? But it's impenetrable -- and locked tight...

YOU — (Turn the strongbox towards Noid.)

NOID — He takes a long, analytic look at the inside of the box -- then at your face.

DRAMA [Challenging: Success] — He's trying to figure out if you're lying, sire -- if you haven't stolen the schematics in a bit of legerdemain.

NOID — He gives his verdict: "Yeah, throw that shit in the sea."

YOU — (Conclude.) "Let's go."

INLAND EMPIRE — Where do you think they've gone, by the way?

YOU — What's gone?

INLAND EMPIRE — The blueprints -- Harnankur's blueprints.

YOU — The place around the corner where my dead friends live?

INLAND EMPIRE — Good guess. But there must be a better answer...

THOUGHT GAINED: LOS DESAPARECIDOS