>>26959766

Some points you've gathered so far:

> You don't know, for one, when the visit will take place at all.
> You do know that Mette, and her friends in the Liberal Society of the University, intend to do a 'pranking' attack. Might that be a mask for something?
> You also know that the Leserin police have hired a group of policemen, some time ago, who are armed and seem ready and itching to crack down on the students.

>>26959766

> Check Anselm's room.

He's strange, look there.

Glad to see you back, Nimbro. Sweep Anselm's room quickly, even if I doubt there will be any clues laying around.

>>26959766

From scratch, eh? That stuff is pretty time consuming. Billy must have made a pretty good impression.

>>26960142

this. Don't touch anything, though, just a superficial scan for now.

>>26960219
>>26960142
>>26960188

> Anselm's room.

His room is upstairs, one room away from the shower, and even as you walk upstairs you can hear Mette belting out songs.

'You're the only song I want to hear...'

Don't recognise it. As you walk into Anselm's room, its neatness strikes you. Two bookshelves have their books all neatly put in place; the laptop sits on a cooling pad; the bed is made. Also it doesn't smell like a normal male university student's room, sweat and socks and beer and semen.

Another thing strikes you, which is what appears to be a tripod sitting on the bedside drawer, next to a rather nice looking camera. Well, that makes sense.

> Roll d100.

> Examine the bookshelves.
> Examine the work desk.
> Examine the tripod.
> Other.

Rolled 31

>>26960325

> Bookshelf

And then

> Work desk.

Rolled 80, 55 = 135

Examine the tripod.

Rolled 21

>>26960325

>bookshelf - titles of the books will probably not tell us much, though.

Not much point in going for the desk, we'd have to make thorough inspection we can't allow ourselves right now. Maybe going over pictures in the camera could tell us more. Could he be the guy who photographed us yesterday? PRobably not..

>>26960325
Take a quick look at the bookshelf and tripod, then take some time examining the desk.

Rolled 86

>>26960622
Roll.

>>26960508
>>26960433

> Give them all a quick look.

You stay still for a while, listening to Mette continue singing, and then move to look at everything.

The bookshelf is mostly study-related materials; it's clear Anselm is doing something related to engineering, probably of the civil sort. Coast protection, hydroelectricity, that sort of thing. Below that, however, are other books of a more practical nature, relating to living in the wild, and some other books on guns and hunting.

It's almost like you're looking at a bit of a closet survivalist here. And then it clicks in place why you noticed that tripod. Going over and memorising the positions of the two objects first, you then try to mount the camera on the tripod; but nothing on the bottom of the DSLR fits. It's a tripod socket against a threaded hole.

The work desk is almost painfully neat, and you can see a framed photo of someone you recognise. It's Heike, arms flung wide, caught with a manic laughing face in some park or something, the background a lovely scene of hills. You start examining the drawers from the bottom, and it slides open to reveal a photo album, market 'H & M'.

Wait. Was that the door? The sound of the shower has stopped, and might have done so moments ago. You then hear footsteps, coming out of the bathroom, and then down the stairs.

> What do?

>>26960585
>>26960622
>>26960645

> Argh, sorry people, I forgot to reload and see your vote. Apologies. And welcome to thread.

>>26960675

Well, sounds like we can get out the window and reenter from the outside, or just walk down and say we've been looking for a toilet.

2 sounds more credible.

>>26960675

Go down after her and say we're making a call or something.

>>26960675
Ugh. Can't admit we were upstairs, too suspicious. Can't we climb down to the garden ? It will be easy to pretend we were there and she won't look here immediately.

>>26960781
>>26960779
>>26960731

You look out the window, which is a sliding one. It's not a long jump down anyway, and it does indeed lead down to the garden.

Incidentally, you also look around to see if anyone might be surveilling the house, but at first glance no. So they're either not there, or they're better than that.

> Walk downstairs. (Think up an excuse.)
> Jump into garden.

>>26960864

Man walk. We can say the toilet thing like >>26960731 says.

>>26960864
All excuses will only raise suspicions she might have. Jump, just be careful no to jump in front of a window, or on something noisy.

>>26960996
>>26960929

> Anyone like to break the tie?

>>26960996

Finding an open window will definitely not raise her suspicions any. Plus why would we be outside? Wouldn't it be almost more viable that we've been trying to peek at her in shower?

>>26961067

Walk.

>>26961096
She'll think Heike or Anselm left it open. But w/e choice was made.

>>26961102
>>26961096
>>26960996
>>26960929

> Walk.

It's not a long drop, but you figure that you'd be leaving Anselm's window open, and possibly have to explain how you got into the garden through a locked door. So down the normal way it is then.

Going down the stairs, you note a little hidden corner out of view from the landing unless one turned to look. Just then Mette calls out, 'Gerald?'

'Hey, I'm here.' You turn around and walk to the kitchen. The rich, lavender scent of her soap or shampoo wafts down the stairs, mixing with the lasagne; Mette is now wearing a black tank top with matching shorts, setting off her already rather pale complexion. 'I was looking for another toilet.'

'Oh, it's behind the kitchen!'

You duck in, flush the toilet after a while and duck out again, sitting down. 'Did you make this from scratch, Mette?'

'I made a huge pot of bolognaise the other day because beef mince was cheap. Then I made like four trays of these and put them in the freezer. So it's reheated, I suppose.' She cuts a generous portion for you, and you help yourself to the salad. 'It's fine, I hope? Wine?'

You offer to do the wine. Once everything's done, you have some of the lasagne. It's not conventional; there's mushrooms in it. But it's really quite good.

> Toast her. (Think what about, then.)
> Thank her for the lasagne.

> Either way you choose, it seems she wants you to get conversation going. She's eating quietly. What say?

>>26961192

> Toast her. (Think what about, then.)

To beautiful girls and good food?

>>26960929
Seconded

>>26961265
This. Maybe flattery may cause her to reveal information.

>>26961192
Maybe we could start a conversation about her flatmate?

>>26961628
>>26961478
>>26961265

Mette raises an eyebrow as you lift your glass, and reaches for her own. 'Well, suffice to say, this is very good. So, to good food. And also to beautiful women.'

'Well, how lovely of you,' her voice takes on a mock posh accent as you clink glasses. If you were expecting her to talk more just for a compliment, though, it doesn't really work; she sips, and then goes back to eating.

For a while you wonder if you should be talking about something else, but Anselm occupies your mind. What's the tripod for, if clearly not the camera?

'Are you thinking up another question, Gerald?' She's caught you thinking. 'Because I think it's your turn. If you're still playing. We could do this for days. I've got a question, actually.'

'Well, I've not got one really, it's just that Anselm's a pretty interesting person, isn't he?'

'You must be about the second person in the history of the world to say that,' she says, and then grins. 'Why do you say that? Actually I'm wondering if he might be at Heike's now. The two of them are really doing this weird dance. Well, not Anselm; he holds a torch for her the size of a big campfire. But Heike, I don't know...'

'She's uncertain about him?'

'She's uncertain about guys in general, I think. And not because she swings other ways. It's just... I don't know, deep down she's not that trusting of men maybe.' Mette waves her hand. 'Let's not talk about it. Does that count as your question? So it's my turn now? Or are you going to cheat?'

> Yeah, I'm cheating. (Then what is your question?)
> No, go on.
> Other. (What say?)

> If you need to know anything, ask and within reason it will be observed.

>>26961769
> No, go on.

>>26961769

>No, go on.
We're a spy of honour.

On that note, I'd rather this did not develop into intimacies ( >implying we won't get found out and spill lasagna all over the place ), and perhaps set up some semblance of surveillance to see if whoever was tailing her earlier makes an appearance.

And I wonder what that tripod was for... this Anselm guy is definitely planning something... however asking about him too much would be suspicious. Perhaps we should direct our inquiries towards the future, where we can go all out Munchausen without risk of stumbling into a death field.

>>26962220
>>26962144

'Do I look like the sort who'd cheat?' You smile. If you will spend the whole evening here, which is possible, you will have plenty of time to ask about Anselm. 'Go on then, you.'

'Well, my question is, what exactly is your business in UL?' Mette sits back and forks a tomato in her mouth. 'You come in out of nowhere... you're living in the Coronet... and even if you know Heike, it's a bit weird to get into her party - well, our party - just like that. Not that I mind! I'm just curious...'

Oh, bollocks. You look down at the table and dishes. It's not a very large helping of lasagne, but there's some leftovers.

> What say? And what do as dinner winds down?

>>26962420

Err... a journalist? Or should we tell her what our cover is, i.e. a clerk sent by her fathers' office? That could piss her off though. We shouldn't have too many versions of ourselves going around though, no matter what we do. It's bad enough Gary knows our real identity.

>>26962622

Using our cover would make it worse. She'd think we're spying on her, which is kinda true.

>>26962656
>>26962622
>>26962220

> If you're talking about the future, talk about what in it? Like, Mette's ambitions perhaps?

There's no question of using your official cover with Mette. That would shut her up. And that would shut you away from a key source, and a key suspect.

'Me? What do you think? I'm a journalist.'

Mette looks at you steadily over the rim of her wine glass as she drains it. She does not stop you from refilling for her.

'So you're here to cover... what?'

'Well... I've just been sent here for a while. Administrative exile, Mette.' Such things do happen in Geminian papers after all, and she probably knows it. 'But if you've got a story or a tip, then go on.'

'You're going to publicise our plans to play pranks on my dad, aren't you?' Mette's voice has dropped, in a moment, though she sounds more sad than angry. 'You're coming here just to bend the story.'

'Mette, before today, I didn't even know there was a plot going on. I certainly didn't come here with the intent to exploit it.'

'And yet you managed to insinuate yourself into the party last night? Come on, Gerald.' She gets slowly to her feet. 'Well, at least you're honest about it, I'll give you that. I'm here to wreck your little club, you tell me. Why did you bother telling me this then?' She's still smiling, for some reason, but there are tears in her eyes.

> What do/say?

>>26963046

'Because I want you to trust me. I wouldn't write against you.'

>>26963046

>better sad than dead.
>she's still in for a surprise some time later.

Remain calm.

Do you question my personal integrity? Why do you think they sent me here? For someone in opposition to authoritarian regimes you sure are quick to jump to conclusions.

>should we tell her she's been watched? Although she's probably going to be more suspicious from now on anyway.


>We still have leads to follow in the town hall and second vice chief of police to interview, too, should she boot us out. Although I'd keep track of this Anselm guy...

>>26963407
>>26963261

This isn't quite the usual interrogation scenario, but there's nothing to get worked up about, even if Mette is upset. You push the plate away slightly.

'We're playing Questions, Mette,' you say. 'I'm supposed to be honest. And I want you to trust me, and I have nothing to hide. Instead you're questioning my integrity, jumping to conclusions about my intent.'

Your remarks seem to hit her like a slap. She straightens up, clearly surprised. 'That... that wasn't my intention.'

'But you did it, Mette. Look, if you did what you were planning to do when your father comes around to visit, then I would write about it. That's my job. But I have nothing against you. Unlike you.'

'I've got nothing against you either, Gerald! Look where you are! I got you here and made you lasagne, for fuck's sake!' Mette is finally goaded into raising her voice, but then quickly catches herself. 'Shit. I... didn't mean that. I just... I'm sorry.'

The next few minutes are awkward. As if in silent agreement, you begin clearing up the table and washing the dishes. Mette repeats her apology in a muted voice. 'I take it you're leaving now, then,' she says.

> Agree.
> No, you're staying.
> Other.

>>26963739

Smile.

"Don't be sorry. It's all in human nature, especially when one's passionate enough. And I suppose you have reasons to be suspicious."

"Those who are closest to you can turn out to be traitors, but just as well you might end up finding friends in most unlikely places."

"And that lasagne was delicious."

>stay or leave
Hm. I'm not sure we should be staying even if we can play her into accepting our (yet another) persona (which is not going to last very long anyway as one it will eventually reach her that we're talking to officials from position of authority rather than one of a pestering watchdog of democracy).

Did our training cover setting up surveillance? Because we definitely should tail Anselm for a bit.

>>26963928

You smile and tell her it's all right, while considering to stay or leave. It is a bit too late for either, to be honest. Even if you left, you would now be recognised by her, hampering your efforts to watch those close to her.

But if you stay... you think you have some idea of what her intentions were at the start of the evening. Does she still have those intentions? You don't know. You don't know if you should care.

'Yeah, I suppose I should leave,' you finally say. First Sara, and now Mette. And the best thing is, neither of them is luck - you did it entirely to yourself. You and no one else. Mette agrees quietly, and calls for a taxi for you before seeing you to the door.

'Take care, Gerald. I hope you don't hold it against me.'

'It's understandable. Don't worry about it.' You pat her shoulder.

Then you are back at the Coronet, staring out the window. Anselm. You'll have to focus on Anselm. But for now, what is there to do?

> What do?

>>26964126
Get home and make a Wall of Plot.

>>26964126

Let's not feel bad. We're here on a job, not to indulge in teachings of Descartes.

>>26964126

Did we even read those dossiers we have in our bags or are there only there for entertainment of hotel cleaning ladies?

>>26964384
>>26964371
>>26964270

You have read those dossiers, but you can consult them again of course.

They include the itinerary, of course; general information on the UL, and the police; specific dossiers on Varind. And other miscellaneous papers.

> I'm glad you asked about the dossiers. If you'd like more specific information on those general categories, you can try to find them in the files.

>>26964557

Do we have any information on the police chiefs? including the vice chiefs

>>26964620

Do this. Some good pleasant read before we go to sleep.

>>26964126
Man, we have to stop cock-blocking ourselves.

While we are here at our apartment, lets go over it again for listening devices, and then devise a simple yet effective security system.

>>26964620
>>26964652
>>26964654

You go through your suite once again, checking under the table, within the closet and the bedframe as well, but there is no bugging device you can find. Indeed, given the state your room is in now, it seems that the hotel staff took your 'do not disturb' sign seriously.

Which is nice.

After a shower, you go and do some reading on the dossiers, focusing on the two vice-chiefs, Hoofter and Begeson. The reports on the latter are not particularly complimentary; he is considered soft, yielding, and generally quiet on major issues.

Hoofter, on the other hand, is quite the career policeman. Having served in Leserin for some 20 years, despite not being from here, he is seen with some suspicion but is generally effective. In fact, he is so effective that even the town hall has deferred to his suggestions on law and order before; there's a record of how he pushed through a nighttime disturbance law, which was sometimes used to break up late night parties. That does not even sound very legal.

He also apparently has 'some economic interests in the town's development'.

Huh.

> Read on something else? (State what, I'll find it within reason)
> Go to bed.

>>26964794

take one more look at University one and perhaps if there is something on municipal authorities. How far are elections?

Then we could take a look at Varind's papers, whether they mention his daughters should we have to deal with them again.

>>26965333

> Next thread will be on next Friday.

You look over the university files, but since you're not looking with much in mind, you just end up skimming through it. What you do get from there is a sense of a general disempowerment of the University; over the decades, UL's seats in the town hall have been steadily reduced.

Local elections run with the nationals, so they will happen next year.

Varind's papers are more interesting, now that you've met Mette and Heike and know to look for their childhood years. Peter Varind had been transferred from Gradnav to become a station chief in Southeast Command, living in the city of Kashrun. As station chief, he was practically the military governor of the place.

That means his hands must be running quite red with insurgent blood, given his tenure about 10 years ago. About his daughters, he is apparently very protective of them.

Satisfied for now, you fall asleep, but then a moment later the alarm jerks you awake. Wait, that's not the alarm. That's the phone.

Crawling out, you see that the time is 3:39 AM. The phonecall is from... Mette.

'Gerald?' The voice is trembling, faltering. 'Gerald, is that you?'

'Yes. Yes it's me. What's-'

'The police have... they've raided my friends, Gerald! They've got Anselm! I don't know if they've got Heike!' Mette sounds hysterical. 'I don't know where they've gone, they can't take calls, I don't know who's done this...'

> What do/say?

>>26965908

> Also, this is last post for today. Quiet night is quiet. Thanks for playing!