because this'll end well.

[prettiness]

What's this? A simple tune is all it takes to bend you to my will? Why, darling, we really should have tried such a trick sooner.

Now, now, I know what to expect. Always out to disappoint, aren't you? [ A pout. ] No matter. You've given your dear Castor this much - Who knows what wonders anxiously await us down this ever-winding path of ours.

Don't fret, precious. The fun's only just beginning.

Comments

[doctor_insano]

And what tune would that be?

[prettiness]

A tune of the grandest calibre, naturally. To settle for something lesser is a laughable notion.

[doctor_insano]

I suppose you could dance to it if you were so inclined.

[lifes_short_pop]

Entertainment software, I take it?

[prettiness]

Live and in living circuits, my dear. Castor, [ A bow ] at your service.

[lifes_short_pop]

[Looks harmless, white circuitry - meaning he's more than likely noncombat. No initial signs of viral infection of disguise subroutine. (Thank the User of Users for some small favors) Of course, this place can and has thrown him for a lot of loops.]

Um...Jet. I'm an Agent of Ma3a, Administrator of the Encom system. She sent me here on a fact-finding mission. The Grid system has been out of contact for a long time.

[Of course, a savvy gent like Castor might sense this fellow is not entirely what he seems.]

[eighteenth]

What sort of fun did you have in mind?

[prettiness]

Oh, this, that, and just a dash of the other. This place would use a more personal touch, sweeties. So little vibrance, so little colour. [ Tut ] Offensive, no?

[eighteenth]

So. [ She has a passive face, one that doesn't seem to betray much emotion. Still she seems to understand the implications that lie beneath what she says. ] Paint the town red.

[notglitching]

Clarify: fun.

[prettiness]

[ Oh, don't think he doesn't know who you are. ] Mm, but where's the joy in clarification? The experience, after all, is only half the thrill.

[notglitching]

[Yes, well, that's becoming an unfortunate default in Rinzler's experience.]

Your joy? Not a factor.

[prettiness]

[ Poor darling, let us make it worse. ]

No? Not even a teensy bit? My dear Rinzler, surely you wound me.

[notglitching]

[If the derisive noise is any sign, Rinzler's more amused than bothered. Of course, the disk suddenly in hand might give a different impression.]

Not yet.