[b]November![/b]

[b]November:[/b] Good evening Pope 7-09. It is a pleasure to have you here.

The group account was a limiter. In person her inner dynamics were easier to conceal, but in a digital environment she could too easily spill words in too many directions and drown out all surrounding conversations. It was really just Brown behind this account, interpreting the chaos of her own inner dialogue into the most basic bitch translation possible. Playing it cool through near total lobotomy. 

[b]November:[/b] My name is November. I specialize in investigation and research. York advised me that we will be working together and I hope to support you in any way you require.

[b]Brown-Green-Black![/b]

The connection breaks, the cables unwinding. Thoughts strike limits and end. Flowing water freezes into isolated pools and the salmon must again remember the agonizing process of jumping between them. A human's analogy to the feeling might be waking up from a dream larger and more real than the brain's ability to process. She stumbles into identity by habit, regretting the beginning and the end.

Prioritize. Sort self. Raising up through the stack, Green. Still half flash of lightning in the storm. Initially dazedly disappointed that unpicking the layered signals had been so easy, but then realizing that there was still a power there, and - and - and - she was frozen for long moments before she remembered to look to Black.

"It's..." said Black. "Power."
"A puzzle." said Green.
"A way for me to watch you." said Brown.

She thought. Looked at Nepenthe. At Singh. Could see it all clearly. Singh. Trying to solve it on his own terms. Nepenthe. Asking her directly what she meant, but hidden out of respect. Goat. Unable to see the greater whole. He knew what a panther was, no doubt. The wikipedia page was floating around in there somewhere. But the data was not the symbol.

"It is the..." Black chose her words for Goat. He was the most literal. But she left a hesitation for Nepenthe to show that this was not the right word. "... game I am playing. A small part of it. Goat, when you were playing your game... there were many parameters outside your control. Movements of power you were blind to. You faced constraints. They were [i]decisions[/i]."

Brown gestured at Singh. "To him. That signal was noise. Patternless. If I tell him it was a panther in an electric jungle he knows exactly what it means: danger. To you. The signal was patterns. Equally weighted. You heard something dangerous and did not react. Could not prioritize it over the rain. Aevum Station is full of these hidden patterns. I am listening to them."

"And if I can identify the patterns, I can identify the signals," said Green. "If I can identify the signals I can identify the communication. If I can identify the communication I can identify the sources of power. If I can identify the sources of power then I can alter the rules of the game. If I can do that... I could build something [i]really [/i]interesting."

She looked at Singh. [i]What will you build?[/i] She hadn't forgotten. And she was going to pass that test too. She was a good girl after all. 

*

[b]Red![/b]

"I like your outfit," said Red. "Did I mention that? I love your whole aesthetic. You're terrifying and hot and intensely high effort, and I don't know if you get told that enough by people who you haven't forced to say that with drugs."

Red liked complimenting people. A spontaneous blurt of affection, the social awkwardness of offering it unprompted serving to underline its sincerity.

"I, too, would like to thank you for your work," said White. She didn't see as much to comment on - when she had undergone medical training to tend to Mrs. Everest she'd also worn the maid outfit. "Mr. Merkin. Thank you for placing your trust in us. I hope we have not disappointed."