[b]Persephone:[/b]

He takes the sandwich graciously, but then stares at it in his hands, held in front of his mouth. Something else you remember. Different people handle stress differently. Two particular base urges either flip to minimum or maximum, depending on the person. Horny and hungry. 

The former explains every interaction you’ve ever had on social media. The latter explains how, emaciated little thing that he is, Marco still forgets how to eat. His first bite into the sandwich is achingly deliberate. 

The second, third, fourth and fifth bites surprise him. The sandwich disappears as fast as he can chew. The yoghurt as soon as he notices it. The carbs and sugars will do him good. 

“I’m not that paranoid, yet.” He mumbles, wiping his lips with the back of a shaking hand. “Fast food’s obviously safe, and there’s a Long Pig just down the street from here.” Cloned human meat, no margin for error. “I just… forgot. I’ve been too busy.” He sounds like he knows how ridiculous that came out, and looks for a better reason. “I haven’t wanted to use my credit card, either, and I don’t have cash.” 

He produces from under his hoodie a data drive. A chunky one, about an inch thick and covered in drop-resistant rubber. It comes with a power adaptor as well as a data cable, for rapid transfers. 

“Everything’s here. It’s uncompressed, and there’s no password.” He holds it awkwardly out, waiting for you to take it off him. “I hope you know what to do with it. Also, can I sleep here, for a bit? Just for tonight?” 

The sedative’s a good idea. You might not even need to trick him. Just put it in his hand, point him at the couch, and he might even thank you for it. 

You might not want to risk the offer being taken the wrong way, though. Looking at how he inhaled the food you gave him, though, it might be easier to just slip it into another tub of yogurt. Your call. 

Also, it seems like this guy’s only long term survival plan was breaking into your apartment and trusting you to be his Big Damned Hero. How flattering!

Lucky, you do have someone waiting in the wings to take this data off you, though, while you’re busy playing unwilling Mum. A specialist. 

[b]Black:[/b]

The reporters downstairs are clearing out. What’s left are mostly interns and junior members, flying drones and waiting for anything interesting to happen. The interloper seems to be on the mark about the police being too scared to move on the place overtly, too. Elodie should be able to handle this much on her own, now.

White’s just cut you free, and you’ve just been made aware of a data drive filled with contraband information. The most important thing about this information is that it’s unsafe for anyone to know you have it.

First, get it off Elodie. That seems easy. Second, there’s actually opening it safely and seeing what this even [i]is[/i]. Do you need a specific place to do that? Specific hardware you want to use? Someone whose help you need?

Third, after that, there’s working out what to do with the information. But that’ll have to come after you know what it even is. 

Dangerous, sure, but there’s plenty of ways to kill a cat, there's a lot that could mean. You might make an educated guess, though?

[b]White:[/b]

Night. Less than a week until you see Dad again, as long as the others keep playing their parts and the score keeps going up. 

Your first shift tomorrow morning should be a guaranteed tenner. It’s a wealthy single mum who needs a maid service that her two year old likes. The toddler has a thing for the cat ears. Clean the whole McMansion, don’t break anything, keep the kid happy, remember to feed her at lunch time, and you’re a quarter of the way to Thrones. 

What’s the team? Who can handle kids? 

Wait. Children. There might actually be another way, a faster way. 

Brittenette. The middle child, the spider in the web. Zeus accommodates her far better than Thrones could - none of the three heiresses were particularly tech-minded - but she [i]would[/i] have the connections if you reached out to her and asked for a favour. 

It could get you a passport [i]tomorrow[/i], but with a string attached to it. 

Is it even an option worth considering?

[b]3V:[/b]

“Just, Gavin, please.” He says. He focuses on his hands again, deep in thought. “When you have one, you know how unimpressive it really is.” He looks at you as if to wink but, at the last moment, decides it’s laying it on a bit too thick. He’s already made the twitch of his head for it before he aborts, and he covers the movement with a shrug and a rub of his nose. 

[3V, make a roll here, difficulty of 10, to overcome Ferris’ passive presence and make him spill the beans on what he’s holding back. You have an opportunity while she’s getting dressed. Two options if you fail. One; You meet more resistance than you were expecting, and you can back down gracefully. Second is you have to work him a little longer, so Ferris overhears you find out. 

Either way, feel free to take control Gavin into your own answer, write his dialogue in a back-and-forth based on the roll. I trust you to have enough of a sense for his voice. Have fun.]