Conversation · Bird's Nest Roy

He takes a step back, studying you. "How would I know?"

(Step closer.) "Sir, could you take off your sunglasses? I'd like to check your eyes."

"Why on earth?" He staggers away from the glass, but quickly recomposes himself. "These are prescription. I can't really see without them."

Nope, still no clue. You obviously haven't been doing enough drugs lately.

Okay, he definitely is high. Whatever it is you've probably done it -- and many other things besides. But you can't cut through the jumble of sensations to get to the answer.

Looking at his wares, talking to him -- that might give you more clues.

A guarded man like him wouldn't tell you if you asked out loud.

"The boombox I bought... it should play this tape, right?

"Of course. It's in working order still, isn't it? Just pick your tape and set it spinning. It all starts with the tape."

"There's something I'd like to sell."

"Yes, we'd like to sell these hubcaps," the lieutenant steps in and hands him the spinners.

Roy takes the hubcaps from the lieutenant and inspects them. The spinners appear iridescent in the dancing light of his pawnshop.

Gone forever...

He marvels at the cobalt shimmer, and nods: "Yes, these are very, very good. Did you defraud some foreign prince for them? Jump a Mesque banger? No matter... I'll give you 200 reál."

"No one was defrauded or jumped, I assure you," the lieutenant explains as the pawnbroker opens the register and counts the cash.

"Of course. I meant no offense. 200 reál for you, officer. Delightful doing business with you. Do come again."

"Thank you." He takes the cash, then turns to you.

"Here's the 30 reál you need for your bill. Do not waste it." The rest goes in his pocket.

The rest is for him -- to compensate for the pain of being separated from his radiant spinners.

The windfall is a small consolation.

"Anything else you're thinking of selling?" Both the lieutenant and the pawnbroker turn to you.

"I'll check my pockets." (Access your pawn menu.)

"Anything else you're thinking of selling?"

"I have some armour..."

"More than sure. What else have you got?"

He knits his eyebrows, thinking, then says, "Alright, let's see it."

"Well, there are these gauntlets..." (Show him.)

He steps back, away from the glass. "Oh, no, no, no, no. I don't need blood-thirsty mercenaries knocking on my door looking for their missing toys."

"Besides, this gear costs a fortune -- there's no one in Martinaise with that kind of money."

It feels like he would have accepted the risk if he hoped to profit from it. It's not greed, though. Deep down, he's a gambler -- provided the stakes are sufficiently interesting.

"I've got a helmet." (Show him.)

"I've got these sabatons." (Show him.)

"Just look at this awesome cuirass." (Show him.)

"I have a fascinating photo of a corpse here." (Show him the photo.)

"Oh... no, I don't like those kinds of objects. No sale." He barely even looks at it.

"Do you know what the tattoos mean?"

He frowns. "Aphotic paths? Counter-radiance networks? Antimagnetism? It's darkness. That's all I know. Sell me something lighter."

You have absolutely no idea what aphotic paths are, but the tattoos on the man are not that.

"I don't have anything to sell at the moment."

"Another time, perhaps."

"I'd like to sell my clothes."

"I'm not purchasing any more clothing at the moment..." He looks you up and down quickly.

Suddenly, his gaze fixes on your tie. He steps back from the glass. "And especially that tie. It swallows photons around it. I have no need for necrotic objects."

Your mother is a necrotic object. I'm fun. Look at me sparkle in the light of the projector!

"I'm not purchasing any more clothing at the moment." He looks you up and down quickly. "And certainly not expensive armour that's liable to bring mercenaries to my doorstep."

"I have this commemorative pin, but before I sell it I have some questions." (Show him Lena's pin.)

He studies the pin carefully, rolling it around in his palm. "Saint-Batiste Summer Dinghy Races '31. What a pleasant time that was."

"So, what do you want to know? Price? I can give you 3.20 for it."

"That's all I wanted to know about the pin, thanks."

"Sure thing. So, do you want to sell anything?"

"3.20? Hey, that's a rip-off!"

"A pin from '31 ought to be priced at 3.10 -- but I added another ten cents, just to be nice."

"Okay, but can you hold onto it for a few days before putting it up for sale? I promised to give the pin back..."

He thinks for a moment, then nods. "Sure, I can keep it behind the counter for a week -- but only if you pawn it right now."

You can sell things from your ITEMS tab for cash -- but be careful: You might wish you had them later.

"Here's the 60 reál you need for your bill. Do not waste it." The rest goes in his pocket.

"Here's the 70 reál you need for your bill. Do not waste it." The rest goes in his pocket.

"Here's the 100 reál you need for your bill. Do not waste it." The rest goes in his pocket.

"Here's the 130 reál you need for your bill. Do not waste it." The rest goes in his pocket.

"Let me have a look."