Conversation · Call Me Mañana

"It's been said I call myself Tequila Sunset."

"Honesty. I lost it while drinking."

"Wow! This is major! You're like... a man born anew!" His eyes light up. "Okay, so if you can't find it, maybe make up a new one?"

"I may take that into consideration."

"Can't live in this world without names, see. Important things, they are. Vessels of the soul."

"It sounds scary, I don't want to."

"Suit yourself. Yet one can't live nameless; names are important things. Vessels of the soul."

"I've tried that. They don't like what I came up with."

"Too bad. Can't live in this world without a good name, friend. Important things, they are. Vessels of the soul."

"My name is Harrier Du Bois. I think." (Conclude.)

"A strong, solid name telling of dedication and honour." He gives a small salute. "Well met, Harrier."

"Okay, I think might be Harry." (Conclude.)

"Harry..." he repeats. with a quizzical expression. "It's cool. But I'm sure you could come up with something even cooler."

"What's your deal with names, anyhow? Is it a spiritual thing or a philosophical one or...?"

"More a poetic thing. Any attempt to formulate a grand unified theory about it ends in the stupidest shit imaginable. Doesn't make it less true, though." He nods sagely.

"That means I can't tell you about it. I can only show you. You may understand in time... or not. But it might be easy enough."

"Fair enough. Seems interesting."

"Words guide our life, we commune with each thing through its word. Every word is also a name, is it not?" He smiles.

"Sounds stupid, is what I think."

"Yes, friend. The world is certainly stupid enough to have stupid features." He grins.

"All right then." (Conclude.)

Be honest with him.

"Hold on, have you had any other names?"

"Plenty to go around. Don't get greedy and try to swipe mine, though." He smiles merrily. "You've got your own."

"So it's a... nom de guerre?"

"A nom de guerre would be more like Guerra Mañana." He chuckles. Then realizes something.

"Call Me Mañana.. What kind of a name is that?"

"It means call me tomorrow."

"Well met, Mañana. That's a sweet-ass name."

"A name worthy of the man who holds it, friend. Names are important."

"Cuno told me you were supposed to know about the armour."

"Heh." He smiles. "The little boia did good on his promise."

"His promise?"

"To get me into trouble. To sic the pigs on me -- pardon the choice of words. Not mine."

"What happened?"

"I was asked to look into that armour situation. Official Union probe, you know -- track it down, see who took it."

"Did you?"

"At first I thought -- why not, maybe the pieces can feed the strike? Buy us a few more days under the sun, you know."

"So I went to this boy. He said he'll make me his prison bitch. He's got eyes everywhere, the cops in his pocket and he's the king of Jamrock."

"Serves me right for doing menial footwork. I dropped that probe right then and there -- and it still got me into trouble," he smiles. "One bad move is all it takes."

"The probe into the armour -- what did you learn?"

"I learned that people don't want to talk to a drunk Union man about some armour."

"What else?"

"Not much. Technical stuff mostly. That was the interesting part."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Thank you for the cooperation, sir."

"No problem." He finally takes a swig from the flask. "If you see that kid, thank him from Call Me Mañana. Thank him for showing me the way."

He is sincerely grateful he is not tracking down pieces of armour right now.

"What sort of technical stuff?"

"I did some research into this armadura. Let's say I have friends at the library," he explains with a wry smile. "I didn't get into the material science, just how it comes off."

"How does it come off?"

"In parts. Four in total. The helmet was the first to go, the kid says he tore it off and kicked it into the sea. I believe him. The boots were still on the guy last I saw. Too hard to remove."

"So -- as I count -- there are two parts missing: the gauntlets and the cuirass. This is where I left off. Too much hassle. More like a job for some milicia."

"Four pieces of armour up for grabs, then. But I already sent the boots away..."

The jolly man shrugs. "I guess you won't be collecting them all then. That's less work for you, at least!"

"Hold up. Four pieces? Helmet, cuirass, gauntlets, boots... what about the leggings?"

"Oh, they're just gone. They don't exist anymore, if they ever did at all." He gives you a jolly shrug. "Forget about them. I did."

"I'm ambitious. I'm going to find all of it. All the pieces."

"All of it?" The lieutenant raises his brow. "There are junior officers out there, eager to prove themselves. I would leave some for them, but okay. Let's find all of it."

It's implied he finds it unlikely that you will succeed in this.