[center][h3] [/h3][/center][h3][hr][color=#38547C]Keaton Plasse[/color][/h3][hr]
Things were great for a few minutes. Keaton, having finished her pretzel segment, introduced herself to Eli with a wave and a friendly smile, her eyes flickering between Archie and Natalie. Though the two seemed to be trying to cover up whatever they had going on, a few stray glances and nervous fidgets spoke volumes for Archie. Natalie was a harder read, but only for a moment. As soon as Archie’s actions cleared up, so did the conflicted expression she had on as she looked at Eli. At this point, teasing them would have been easy, but Radvi was still around, which encouraged Keaton to keep her thoughts limited to an amused smile. There’d be time for that later.

Radvi trying to leave was when things started going downhill. Just as Keaton started to register relief, it was gone, replaced by icy fear as two slenderman figures with all the normal proportions yet none of the normal features flashed into existence at Radvi’s side. A flash of heat prompted her to shy away from Lynn, who had lit up in anger, but Keaton was too busy in her own mind to dwell on it. For a moment, she feared the worst: that Lynn had been right, that the invisible man had already cut his losses, that this was the end. Transfixed, Keaton watched the black and white duo speak, watching them trade off sentences of apology and introduction, which were polite enough to tell Keaton that they were trying to sound honest. That wasn’t to say that they were being honest, though, and their lack of facial features, body language, and other visible tells wasn’t giving Keaton much to work with. It wasn’t until Freaky-D dropped down from the sky—the second story of the mall, by the looks of a few interested shoppers behind the railings above—that Keaton registered Radvi’s shock, registered that she wasn’t about to be arrested, that the Faceless pair weren’t here to take her and Lynn in. There were far easier ways of doing that, and none of them involved polite introductions and a public encounter like the one in the mall here. In fact, the mall was far too public a place for the staff to try and vanish anyone, unless they had the means to quarantine and replace a good portion of the population on board. So, no, Keaton wasn’t about to be arrested. The Faceless pair were opening themselves up for questions, for whatever reason, and Keaton would be lying if she said she didn’t want answers. 

Listening to Lynn and Natalie’s outbursts, Keaton ran them over mentally for gaps—for things they wouldn’t cover, for things that still needed to be addressed. What was her angle for this? Play dumb and passively gather information? Assume this duo was likely omnipresent and was just doing this as a test, a means to gauge the degree to which Keaton and Lynn were willing to go? Lynn storming away uninterrupted was more proof that the pair didn’t come to the mall to arrest anyone, but that didn’t mean they were on anyone’s side either. They were part of the staff, and Keaton wasn’t about to trust them on anything, especially without confirmation. Thankfully, there was something her powers could check that was more accurate than physical tells: cold, hard facts.

Eli’s hesitation was vastly overshadowed by her request. ‘I want to ask the person that you answer to’—Keaton’s brows shot up at the comment, her eyes flickering between the Faceless again for answers that they weren’t yet providing. Were they even human? Either way, there was no way she was leaving the sanctuary of publicity before she got solid answers she could check. The chance of the Faceless leading her to some dark alley to off her first chance they got felt a lot higher than zero, and this encounter seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime, life-or-death opportunity.

“Letting us know who we’ll ultimately be helping is important, but so is winning our trust. Why should we trust you? Why do you see us as ‘core components’?” Keaton asked, looking between the Faceless. “Trust is a two-way street, so if you could explain in a way that helps us come to the same conclusion, that would be great.”

Keaton was referring to her power, and she had no doubt that the Faceless understood that. As staff members, they had access to her files, and if they’d really been as interested as they said, they would have done their homework—known that in Keaton’s world, everything was flimsy unless her power confirmed it. Of the people still left at this table, there was only one person Keaton trusted: Herself, because her power was the only thing that would never directly lie.

“A few more things. To confirm, were you in the room during Lynn’s interview? If you don’t mind me asking, could you explain why you were able to do that, able to watch us in this mall and know precisely when and where we’d all be gathered together if you can’t even locate a suspect for a staff murder?” she asked. “And why was Salamandra aboard the ship? She was arrested years ago, and there was absolutely no reason she shouldn’t have been sentenced to death. Why was she aboard this ship? Why were any of those criminals who escaped last month aboard this ship?”

At this point, Salamandra was public knowledge. Cara’s cameras ensured that, just as they ensured that the staff had every other piece of information available to them, which is why Keaton had one last request to make.

“And, one more thing: If you want us to dig up information for you, want us to share everything we might have or find, how about you give us access to everything you have first? If we’re really so key to this all, really so ‘core’ as you claim, surely we deserve to be on a level playing field with you?” she asked, her gaze transitioning slowly between the Faceless. “Give us access to Cara—not the censored, tame program you have installed all over the ship. The real deal. The one that has access to the cameras, the files, and everything else we might need. Give us what we need to help you."

The Faceless were going out a limb, coming here and asking for help, so it was clear that this group’s involvement mattered somehow. The questions, then, were why—why this group, why now, why like this—and how—how much they mattered. Because, fortunately or not, it seemed they mattered a lot.