Conversation · Garte, the Cafeteria Manager
Speakers · 25
Garte, the Cafeteria Manager
Kim Kitsuragi
You
Reaction Speed
Logic
Drama
Rhetoric
Inland Empire- Horrific Necktie
Volition
Savoir Faire- Ancient Reptilian Brain
- Limbic System
Lena, the Cryptozoologist's wife
Pain Threshold
Authority
Esprit de Corps
Suggestion
Conceptualization
Encyclopedia- Tutorial Agent
Empathy
Half Light
Composure
Perception (Sight)
When
- 07:00 · 08:00 · 09:00 · 10:00 · 11:00 · 12:00 · 13:00 · 14:00 · 15:00 · 16:00 · 17:00 · 18:00 · 19:00 · 20:00 · 21:00 Slip away unnoticed.
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- A man in his late twenties with a thin, unimpressive beard notices you approaching. He drops the ledger he was holding and turns to the lieutenant.
- A man in his late twenties stands behind the counter, inspecting a stuffed seabird. As you approach, he gives you a sideways glance, then looks down again.
- The man plucks at the seabird, frowning.
A man in his late twenties with a thin, unimpressive beard notices you approaching. He drops the ledger he was holding and turns to the lieutenant.
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The man with the unimpressive beard notices you approaching. He drops the ledger he was holding and turns to the lieutenant.
The cafeteria manager sees you approaching. He drops the ledger he was holding and turns to the lieutenant.
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"Mr... Garte, right?" The lieutenant glances into his little notebook. "You run this place?"
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"I am Kim Kitsuragi from Precinct 57. This is an inter-district investigation, so joining me from Precinct 41..." He looks to you, realizing he still doesn't know your name.
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"Right... Now, I know it took us a while to arrive at the scene. It also took you a while to call us and report the dead body -- it was you who placed the call, yes?"
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"No, I only just got here. It was probably Sylvie who called you. She usually works the bar here. I'm only temporarily taking over her duties."
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"As a matter of fact, I do." He looks behind a pile of coasters, finds a slip of paper, and hands it to the lieutenant.
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"What? Of Martinaise -- no. I live in Jamrock. I only sometimes come here to keep an eye on the place. This is just one of the many, many cafeterias I manage."
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"Yes, I know where some things are. But, as I said, I don't live here. I just used to work here. And I'm not going to start working here again, if that's what you think."
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(Play the fool.) "Who, me?"
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"Yes, Detective Costeau." He says the name with a purposefully straight face. "I have everything. You?"
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"Yes, yes, he means do you have questions for me. Like a police officer would." The cafeteria manager is clearly agitated again.
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Ask him about the body's location before asking if he killed him. People give up information in the more innocuous questions, which you can later use in the more sinister ones, not vice versa.
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- "That's all."
- "Why did Sylvie go away?"Remembered · 1
- "You know, I actually can't think of a single thing."
- "What is your problem with me?"Remembered · 1
- "Do you have a fridge?"Remembered · 1
- "Who killed him?"Remembered · 1
- "Are you the bartender?"Remembered · 2
- "Where exactly is the body?"Remembered · 1
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- Ask him about the body's location before asking if he killed him. People give up information in the more innocuous questions, which you can later use in the more sinister ones, not vice versa.
- Continue
- Continue
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No one is saying the multi-patterned necktie you found tied to the ceiling fan can talk. No one. It must be merely imagination, but...
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Let's bail! Time to push the EJECT button. Sounds like a responsibility. You don't like those.
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One moment you're running like the wind, then you've suddenly turned around and are giving him the finger. Furiously, with both hands. Why?!
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- That's true, yes. And it's worrying. But let's not fixate on it. Look at that stupid bartender instead -- he has no idea what's going on! You and your fuck-you-fingers floating in the air. Barkeep's got his mouth agape like an idiot. You showed him.
- One moment you're running like the wind, then you've suddenly turned around and are giving him the finger. Furiously, with both hands. Why?!
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It was no accident. Those were disco moves from your Spinal Cord. The Spinal Cord has yet to reveal itself to you -- its mysteries are unholy mysteries.
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I don't know... that just comes off as a lazy effort at re-conceptualizing the antics of a shambling drunk.
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"It doesn't look like it is, sweetie. Are you okay?" An old woman appears out of the blackness.
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No. You have sustained a trauma to your lower neck. In addition, you have strained your left trapezius muscle. Pain surges down your back when you move.
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"Oh, I'm fine. He just tripped over my chair -- check on him!" She looks at you with concern.
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"Sir, I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm sorry, this has always been a cop-friendly place..." The man seems shaken by the incident.
"The drinks are on the house, okay? There were a lot of drinks on the tab. I still have to charge you for three nights and the broken window, though -- that's 100 square."
With your back against the cold mosaic floor you feel the pain recede. You just need to get up and dust yourself off...
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"Okay, fine. I'll take it off your bill! Sleep in a post-apocalyptic hell-hole if you want to. Just know I won't give you another room."
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"Don't thank me yet. You still owe me 60 reál for three nights stay. If you don't have it by tonight, I just can't let you up there..." He points upstairs, toward your room.
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- "Not entirely cool. You still owe me 100 reál. If you don't have it by tonight, I can't let you back up there..." He points upstairs, toward your room.
- "Not entirely cool. You still owe me 60 reál for three nights stay. If you don't have it by tonight, I can't let you back up there..." He points upstairs, toward your room.
- "Don't thank me yet. You still owe me 60 reál for three nights stay. If you don't have it by tonight, I just can't let you up there..." He points upstairs, toward your room.
- "Don't thank me yet. You still owe me 100 reál. If you don't have it by tonight, I just can't let you up there..." He points upstairs, toward your room.
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"Don't thank me yet. You still owe me 100 reál. If you don't have it by tonight, I just can't let you up there..." He points upstairs, toward your room.
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"Not entirely cool. You still owe me 60 reál for three nights stay. If you don't have it by tonight, I can't let you back up there..." He points upstairs, toward your room.
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"Not entirely cool. You still owe me 100 reál. If you don't have it by tonight, I can't let you back up there..." He points upstairs, toward your room.