Friendship is Magic

Cricket

Alright. That . . . made something of sense.

I hate it when he does that.

Yet another silence, and a slur of a whistle filled it. "Fair enough."

Mr.Face:

"Good. Glad we got that whole mess out of the way." I paused for a moment.

"...Now what?" Clearly I had no idea what I was doing trying to get this thing to work... but, I was trying and certainly that counted for something, right?

Cricket

"I 'aven't a bloody clue," I muttered. It was a wonder he hadn't forgotten the friendship thing. Or at least, that's what I was fairly sure he was talking about. "As long as we're just barely on th' subject, I may as well let you know that I'm Cricket." It was another one of those sentences that slipped out of my mind instead of staying put long enough for me to think it over.

Mr.Face:

Oh. That was his name. He had a name, and it happened to be Cricket. Not "My Prisoner" or any variation thereof. Cricket. "Ah. Well... It is a... uh. Let's see. Good to... Pleasant to see you somewhere that isn't cellblock five for once." I finished. It was odd doing this sort of introduction thing now... after we'd discussed... a great many things... and really, I wasn't just meeting him, so... this was a scenario that I'd never been prepared for by any book on decorum I'd ever read.

Cricket

"You 'ave no idea, mate."

And suddenly, Mr. Face knew my name. It shouldn't have felt all that odd since I hadn't given the question of whether he knew my name all the much thought before, but it did. "Nice t' meet you, I suppose. I think. In a way, per'aps."

Mr.Face:

"I probably don't. My experiences in cellblock five and your experiences in cellblock five probably involve very different...mental images...I suppouse." I stated. "Though... best not get into...that all. At the moment. We were doing so well." I added after a moment. Talking about torturing people wasn't typically something that people liked to be reminded about, probably.

"And I would like to point out that you have met me on various occasions for a variety of reasons... but the etiquette is not lost on me. So...I suppouse we're kind of obliged now to continue with this charade of a first conversation or whatever, while systematically mocking the construct through a sort of meta-analysis of introductory conversations? Is that what I'm picking up on here? Or is this a flagrant overanalysis?"

Cricket

"It's appreciated," I said, shaking my head a tad. "And, ah . . . you weren't speaking English there for a moment, but from what I gathered, you're asking if we keep pretending we honestly just met? Your call."

Mr.Face:

What was he even saying... I was speaking English for the entirety of that last remark. "I was too speaking English. However your approximations are close... we could continue in this vein, sporadically breaking the charade to comment on the charade itself or... Really I have no idea." I paused for a moment contemplating the next course of action. I wish that political stratagems were as useful in actual conversation as they were in leading coups... "It occurs to me that I'm really quite hungry though... Not that that bears any relevance on our current subject of discussion."

Cricket

In other words, he was trying to lay out a set plan for a conversation that sounded like something me and Marley would roll with on the spot. I raised an eyebrow, almost chuckled. "Aye . . . food sounds lovely right about now, actually."

Mr.Face:

"Is this the culturally acceptable moment in which to extend a dinner invitation?" I asked after a moment of contemplation. Dinner invitations were polite...were they not? Good things... to indicate relative benevolence towards the invited party...? And consumables to increase relative levels of serotonin in the brain...? That all made sense...right?

Cricket

Holy Hell, dinner with Mr. Face.

That had to be an adventure. Oi my my. I hesitated to say anything.

"Pft . . . oi my my. Ah . . ." I ran a hand through my hair. " . . . I'd say so?"

Mr.Face:

"In that case, I would like to take this culturally acceptable opportunity to extend to you a dinner invitation." I stated, somewhat redundantly.

It occurred to me that this was somewhat....unanticipated, and that the cooks had only really been cooking for me all day. Well... that was awkward. "I suggest that we depart immediately so as to assure that the change in party size can be cleared by the waitstaff." I added conclusively.

Cricket

This was . . . odd.

A little birdy told me to nod my head and go along with the insanity. As a matter of fact . . . I might have anyway. It was free food, and besides . . . where were my manners, anyhow? Inviting someone to dinner was probably the nicest thing Mr. Face had attempted to do for someone in a long while.

Oi my my, that meant eating at the Government building, aye? That would certainly be interesting. Not to mention the Mr. Face bit. I was going to go eat a casual dinner with someone who I'd tripped into getting murdered by several times over, not to mention my friends.

. . .

I was eating dinner with T.Mor's boss.

. . . Eventually, I took the advice of the little birdy and gave a slow nod. "A'right . . ."

Mr.Face:

"Excellent." I pulled my face into what I'd hoped was an at least marginally non threatening grin, and started off towards... well...towards what I'd hoped was the room I'd been shoved in here through. "Ideally this is going to get us back into my office... and from there geometry is constant enough that I know where we're going." I stated informatively. "If we get spit out somewhere useless... then it could take a while."

I needn't have worried. It was, quite easily the nicest traversal of the insane non euclidean surface of things I'd had in a long while. And after a short period of time... I was standing in my office, waiting for My Pri--- uh... Cricket... to follow through the door.

Cricket

I kept a small distance away from his footsteps, occasionally glancing through my hair as if to make sure that I was still following the same lanky figure that I was supposed to be following. Eventually, I was standing in a vaguely familiar room.

Eh, this was probably the first time I'd been in the building without a death threat . . . oi my my . . . I felt like I was in trouble for something or another. My fingers drummed against my side somewhat nervously.

Mr.Face:

"Alright. I suppouse that it is only fair to warn you that the place from here on out is lit less and less, in accordance with the amount of traffic through hallways on a daily basis that is not limited to me exclusively." I stated before pulling the door open. "Oh, and OS, meet Cricket. He will be eating here this evening. Alert the waitstaff would you?" I'd almost forgotten that the OS now could do things like that. Ah, technology.

"They have been informed, sir." She replied moments later in an incandescent animatronic blue.

"Excellent. And while you're at it put up security protocol nineteen, and leave six B in operation." I told her as I lead the way out of the office and into the hall. It was odd having a legitimate dinner guest.

Cricket

"Aye, so I've 'eard." I could probably make my way around in the dark, so long as I could listen after him. Now, if I were on my own in a new and dark place such as this I'd be terribly, terribly lost.

Hearing my name from his mouth was something I'd have to get used to. It grabbed my attention in a way different from My Prisoner. Caught me off guard, truly. If anything, I'd expected him to simply know my name and keep on not using it. I pondered this and many other things, trying to wrap my mind around what exactly was happening as I followed after.

Mr.Face:

I worked us down a number of hallways, knowing full well that there were five easier ways to get to dinner, however... I didn't want anyone memorising my floor plan, and we kind of had some time to kill while cooking was being resorted. I didn't even know what we were having for dinner here this evening. That was of little importance, it would probably be fantastic, and cost more than a few houses in the Burnout districts.

I eventually led us into a room with a significantly higher ceiling and a long moderately narrow table. There was a seat all the way at the other end in case of... well... nevermind. And as of just minutes ago I was sure, there was another seat on the right side of the head of the table. Naturally I sat at the head position. I went ahead and sat down at my usual seat. "Sit down... it should only be... a few more minutes or so." I commanded? Asked? Requested? Bizarre non threatening word choices...

Cricket

It was like a game of pin the tail on the donkey. Turn out the lights, walk a guy seemingly in circles until he has no clue which way's up, then tell him to find the chair. Or, I'd assume there was a chair. I would have been perfectly fine with the floor, but knowing Mr. Face and his fanciness I'd assume there'd be something a bit more 'civilized'.

I managed well enough. Along the way my fingers met the doorframe, the table, and-- ah, the footsteps stopped. Sounded like he sat down a couple feet away. I whistled something. Went with a gut feeling and reached to--Ah! There we are.

". . . Found it." I hesitated, and sat. Glanced around, though there really wasn't a point to that.

Mr.Face:

I briefly wondered why it took him so long to find a seat, and then I remembered the fact that I didn't pay for electricity here. Considering that the whistling that emanated from him currently didn't exceed an upper ceiling of tolerance, I decided not to mention the irritating noise. It would not be diplomatic or magnanimous to bring it up. "And now we wait. Dinner should be up in... approximately 10 minutes." I stated. "What do you like to drink?" I wondered aloud. This was very strange, having someone else in here. Typically the only other one in this room was...

... ...Nevermind. I wouldn't say anything. Nothing. Don't even acknowledge it. No.

Cricket

It was almost eerie, the situation. Not the darkness in itself. I liked the dark just fine, even though it was odd to experience it somewhere that I didn't know every corner of. It was more the way Mr. Face's voice slid through it that made a tense anticipation crawl up my back. I drummed my fingers against the table, but then felt it might be better to fill the silence with talk instead. "Anything." I answered bluntly, then added, "Anything, honestly, so long as it's clean enough. Water, tea if I can get my 'ands on it. No preference, really."

Mr.Face:

I had to laugh at that. Clean water. Here. He was concerned about clean water. Ridiculous. "Clean water... Where do you think you are? Mr.Namechov's... "I suppoused one could say he lived in a house... depending on your definition of the word house... " ...house? We have a filtration system. Now as for tea... What kind?" I asked, just sitting there, listening to him with mild amusement. Clean water... really.

Cricket

That laugh . . . made me sink back into my seat a little more. No matter what type of laugh it was, it was still unsettling. "Ah . . . type?" My voice had a certain kind of uncertainty to it that I couldn't seem to get out.

Mr.Face:

"...Yes. Type. There is more than one type of tea. You were unaware of this?" I asked, a bit of shock in my voice. How could he not know that there was more than one kind of tea? That was just...

Although, alright. Looking at it objectively... he was illiterate...If I recall correctly. And he had an accent. Clearly someone had neglected to inform him about a great many things. I suppouse that it would be feasible that tea was one of those things.

Cricket

"I suppose, I mean ... Water flavored with leaves and such, aye? I guess there's different ways t' do that, but I never gave it much thought."

(ninjas on phone. MUAHAHA)