[sub][@banjoanjo][@Yankee][@Click This][@Medili][/sub]
[b]“I couldn’t see the gunman, and the gunman missed all six shots,”[/b] Jeanne spoke, turning her face towards Bang. [b]“They were low on my list of priorities.”[/b]

As the rest of the table fell into discussion, rumination, and interrogation, the Frenchwoman settled back into her seat once more, letting all the white noise wash over her. By nature, a devilbat Egoist of Occidental origins should have been easy to spot during their month-long flight across the known world, and yet, no one recalled any such individual. Being attacked while chasing another appeared to indicate collusion, but most of the bullets didn’t even land anywhere near her. And if the Egoist were an opportunist taking advantage of the scenario that Jeanne had established, what were they hoping to achieve prior to this? It was when Nazca spoke up that the blonde Technologist deigned to speak up again. [b]“Playing at spywork, Miss Whitehall?”[/b]

Nothing but a light jab. Nothing but a little prodding from the French to the British. Jeanne moved on just as effortlessly, interlacing her fingers and setting them on the table.

[b]“And as for your question, Bang, it’s simple.”[/b] Her fingers tightened, clasping together firmly. [b]“Something stalked me within the mists, and when I attacked, something fled in great bounding leaps. Naturally, I pursued.”[/b]

But any Polymath would know that correlation did not imply causation. The case certainly had its share of oddities, of peculiarities.
[b]“For the gunman, it’s a simple task to show you where the shooting occurred.”[/b]

Perhaps, of all present, only Nazca would understand what Jeanne was doing as she rolled the right sleeve of her shirt back to reveal a flexible, blackened metal chasis beneath, studded with nodes and circuitry. “Formation Pyre,” she spoke in French, then directed her gaze outside the window.

Against the picturesque sky, it was easy to see.

The trail of black smoke, snaking up to the false heavens.

Jeanne settled back down, her posture perfect and her facade unperturbed.

[b]“One hundred and twenty two meters southwest of that point.”[/b]
[sub][@Izurich][@Kumbaris][/sub]
There was no response to either Lucretia or Bunga.

Sukoro continued to draw, his pencil gliding smoothly over the canvas, rendering the drawing three-dimensional despite the lack of shading. It was a study, a study of the deathly plant. How its petals peeled away to reveal its bud, how its fibers intertwined to form its body, how the spots and bumps upon it created the sense of a slice of pepperoni or salami. Sweat continued to drip, the Japanese Technologist’s robes clinging to his body, his shoulder moving vigorously while his arm was as stiff as the pencil in his hand.

And after what seemed to be an eternity, he stopped, placing his pencil onto his thigh and letting out a long hiss through his teeth, his entire body seeming to sink down into itself.

Expertly rendered, and yet wholly without expression, his study of the plant was as if through the lens of an impartial creator, neither proclaiming the work good nor bad. His eyes, half-closed turned to the two ladies who had been forced to wait, before his head naturally tilted downwards in an expression of apology. [b]“Pardon me,”[/b] the young man spoke, his voice scratchy from a combination of thirst and silence, [b]“I was not ignoring you, but rather simply had other matters to handle first. It is a pleasure, Miss Konigsmahne, Miss Kurniawan.”[/b]

He stopped speaking, eyes looking at nothing in particular while he recalled their questions, before continuing. [b]“And yes, I would be happy to provide you with a chest inscribed with my Starsteel Formulization, Miss Konigsmahne. In exchange, could you lend me your Black Knight for a few days, so I may study it?”[/b]

It was fair, after all. One work for another. Perfectly acceptable...

[b]“And yet another apology, Miss Kurniawan, but considering my own circumstances, I’ve been endeavouring to avoid, rather than socialize with, others. In regards to that particular part of the world, hrm…”[/b] He brought one leg up, crossing it over his knee, and leaned his elbow against it while propping his head up with his palm. [b]“…maybe you could ask Mr. Kieu? I heard he was quite the social sort, compared to myself. Honestly, I wouldn’t even be able to name a Nusantaran Polymath off the top-of-my-head, so even if I saw them, I wouldn’t know them.”[/b]

It made sense again, of course. Japan was [i]notoriously[/i] insular as a nation.
[sub][@Jumbus][/sub]
[b]“I’m doing lovely today, thank you! And yes, such a troubling matter to hear of in the morning. I haven’t had the chance to read up on it myself, but, between me and you, I think it’s simply wrong for Mr. Robespierre to defend an arsonist and all. I get that’s what he’s known for but, like, that’s basically a shut-and-closed case, isn’t it?”[/b] The lady shook her head. [b]“Makes me troubled, really. Like, I get that you’re all smart and good kids, and the governments that sent you definitely trust you to behave yourselves, but all it takes is one bad Technologist to do something crazy, y’know?”[/b]

She blinked, and then her face flushed, her hand moving up to cover her mouth.

[b]“Oh, I’m so sorry for rambling on like that. It’s honestly a terrible habit of mine, but, well, I guess that’s to say that I’ll do whatever’s in my power to help you out with the prosecution!”[/b]

…there definitely seemed to be a misunderstanding here. Whether Franz chose to correct or maintain this misunderstanding though, was a decision that he’d have to make later.

[b]“That being said, I could certainly hotprint Bermuda’s currently-enrolled students for you though. It won’t have anything that isn’t publicly accessible information though, due to privacy concerns, but there’ll be photos without a doubt. Just, you know, nothing specific like their addresses or anything else their countries would like to keep private.”[/b] A slightly awkward smile formed over her expression and she looked off to the side. [b]“…and not all students postured themselves correctly during the photography sessions either, so some of them might look a bit off…”[/b]

The Swedish lady recovered from that easily enough though, and directed a bright smile towards Franz.

[b]“I could have it delivered through the Postal Service to your residence by this evening though. Or is there another location you’d like to receive this, Mr. Steiner?”[/b]