Part 3: 10:18-11:40: Cuno Don’t Care

Chapter 3: 10:18-11:40: Cuno Don’t Care

Content warning: (censored in-game) homophobic slurs and false sexual assault accusations

Before we start, some of you asked for the item descriptions because they’re funny. Well, I am a kind host, so I will oblige:






I’m not sure I like the attachment we’re forming to this tie.





With that out of the way, let’s head outside.








THE GARDENER: “Oh that…” She points north. “That’s right there, in the yard.”




THE GARDENER: “Yes, sir. District of Martinaise…” She looks around, thinking what else to say. “This intersection is called Roundabout North.”








THE GARDENER: “Excuse me?” She doesn’t understand.






THE GARDENER: “I have a greenhouse in the yard there.” She gestures over her shoulder. “I’ve been trying to get some work done…”



THE GARDENER: “As you already know, there’s a corpse there. Hanging from a tree. It smells pretty bad, so I have to take breaks.”
KIM KITSURAGI: “Don’t worry, Miss. We’re here to clean it up—you can get to work soon.”



THE GARDENER: “Of course, I won’t hold you back.” She wipes her brow with the canary yellow glove.






Ooh, bottles!





A girl stands outside, shivering in the cold. This building sits next to the Whirling-in-Rags. You should talk to her. She might know something.




ANNETTE: “It’s a book store, sir! We sell books, postcards, and some board games.” She points at the window. “It’s called *Crime, Romance, and Biographies of Famous People*.”




ANNETTE: “A postcard,” she observes you for a moment, “is a small cardboard picture. You can write a few words on the other side and send it to your friend or your *beloved*.”






ANNETTE: “My name is Annette, sir. My mom, her name is Plaisance, she owns the store. She’s inside, minding the register… or organizing the stock.”



ANNETTE: “I’m signaling that the store is open.” She nods eagerly. “Otherwise people might not know… they’d miss out on the *Crime, Romance, and Biographies of Famous People*.”



ANNETTE: “Kind of you to offer, sir…” She doesn’t know what else to say.





ANNETTE: “Mom says it’s necessary to do both, because it builds character. Mom says a proper worker is dutiful—that’s how you get ahead in life, you succeed.”



ANNETTE: “Mom says it’s peachy. She was a little afraid at first, there’s talk about this house being…” She looks over her shoulder. “Cursed.”





KIM KITSURAGI: “We can go into the bookstore and ask about the case, but I don’t see much more to look *into* here.” The lieutenant makes a note in his notebook.





KIM KITSURAGI: “No such thing.” The lieutenant stands at your side, stern and serious.










ANNETTE: “Head. Yes!”




ANNETTE: “If you say so, sir.” She smiles mischievously. “He’s just a fictional character, he’s no match for your… *soul*.”



ANNETTE: “It’s the type of book where there’s a rich lady and she has to choose between the good man and the bad man.” She smiles at the thought, perhaps imagining herself in that situation.












ANNETTE: “Yes!” She nods, relieved. “She knows books, definitely.”
CONCEPTUALIZATION: [Medium: Success] What *was* that? An idea for an unfinished novel stuck somewhere in your fore-brain?




ANNETTE: “Oh, kings and queens and generals of old, or artists and writers, or musicians, those kinds of people. There’s usually something extraordinary about them.” She scratches her cold-reddened cheek, then continues: “I think that’s why people read them. To find the secrets of their fame.”








ANNETTE: “What do you mean, sir?” She knows where this is going.



ANNETTE: She looks around anxiously. Her hands remain folded in front of her. She doesn’t want to show them.
KIM KITSURAGI: The lieutenant stands by—looking at the two of you with little interest.







ANNETTE: “It was okay, sir.” She’s still got a rebellious streak.



ANNETTE: “You’re quite sober.” She snaps back quickly.



Somehow this feels worse than if he had just broken out in laughter.






That wasn’t very productive. You’ve wasted enough time. Head for the crime scene already.



Well, after you examine this broken fence, anyway.



PERCEPTION (SIGHT): Cop habit. You look at everything.










AUTHORITY: He was exaggerating. People blame *cops* for everything that goes wrong in the world. This has nothing to do with you.





KIM KITSURAGI: “You are correct. This is a rather motor carriage-friendly city.”



KIM KITSURAGI: “I’m not sure… there are plenty of traffic accidents waiting to happen in Martinaise. With the jam right here on the roundabout. I would keep them separate.”




You see a buzzer for the building in front of you, with several different businesses available to contact. You put them out of your mind and decide to inspect the crime scene for now.



A small, grotesque child throws rocks at the corpse. Out of the corner of your eye, you see another child egg them on from behind a fence.



You feel an urge to ask the children if they know anything, despite the simultaneous feeling in your gut that it’s a mistake…



Outta the way, Kim. Geez.

CONCEPTUALIZATION: [Medium: Success] If there ever was such a thing as an ugly kid, then this is it. He’s almost exquisite in his ugliness. Like a gremlin.



CUNOESSE: “Right in the dick, Cuno! Get him right in the dick!” The children ignore you.
CUNO: “F****ts love it in the dick.”




CUNO: “Can’t talk, pig. Shit’s coming up strong. Throwing rocks.”
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: [Easy: Success] Shit coming up strong… that sounds good. Joyous. You should hang out with this kid and see what that juicy *shit* is all about.
CUNOESSE: “Yeah, Cuno! Ride the lightning, Cuno!”
CUNO: “Cuno’s riding it, C.” He wipes sweat from his brow and sends another rock flying.
CUNOESSE: “The rake, Cuno! You should throw the rake at him, Cuno.”





CUNO: “The fuck are you talking about?” He throws another rock.




CUNO: “Shitload, pig, what’s your question?”







CUNO: “I don’t know, some fucking…” He looks around, trying to come up with something.



Sounds real. Demand more information about this cool-sounding city.



CUNO: “Just a couple of pigs sniffing around in the dirt. That seems pretty fucking suspicious to Cuno.”



CUNO: “You’re testing Cuno’s patience here.”






CUNO: “The fuck are you calling a *third person*?! Cuno’s the fucking FIRST person.”
EMPATHY: [Medium: Success] He looks slightly confused but proud he came up with that retort—but right as he’s getting distracted, you hear a malevolent hiss from behind the fence…
CUNOESSE: “Watch out, Cuno, he’s trying to fiddle you. He’s gonna put his HANDS on you!” The *thing* behind the fence starts squealing, shrill and violent like a fire alarm. The sound gets louder as the child shouts at the windows overlooking the yard. “Help! Pigs got Cuno! Help! RAPE!”

Kill all children, I always say. Annette can live.





CUNO: “No one,” he whispers suddenly. “Cuno’s doing this because he *likes* it, pig.”
AUTHORITY: [Easy: Success] This is where Cuno establishes dominance. Over you.



KIM KITSURAGI: “You put him up to this yourself—when you decided to talk to him in the first place.”




CUNO: “Help, misters! HELP!” He prances around, eyes bulging out of their sockets, rolling hard, yelling at the windows…
EMPATHY: [Medium: Success] He’s having the time of his life. Total ecstasy. Fuck the pig.




Don’t punch the child, no matter how much he seems to deserve it.

CUNO: “Look, f*g…” Cuno whispers, even softer than before, vanishingly silent…



CUNO: “I can.” His voice is so silent, it seems the words are echoin in your head, not coming from his lips. “Cuno can smell that violence shit. I know what you were thinking… ‘I’m gonna fuck that Cuno up. I’m gonna shut his shit down…’ You know what? You should have hit the Cuno, because NOW…” He raises his voice again. “You’re NOTHING! You’re a joke to Cuno. Cuno LAUGHS at you!” He spreads his arms, taking dominion over the yard. “KING CUNO!”
AUTHORITY: [Medium: Success] Backing up was a bad idea, now he thinks he’s establishes dominance over you.
CUNOESSE: “Cuno turned you into his prison bitch! You’re gonna be *in* this shit with Cuno…”
KIM KITSURAGI: “No.” The lieutenant almost rolls his eyes. “You’re not. We can just leave…”



CUNO: “Okay, Cuno is kind to his bitch. Ask your questions, but remember.” He taps at his temporal lobe. “This *changes* shit.”






CUNO: “Get your snout out of Cuno’s ass!” He waves you off. “Cuno knows how hard Cuno pushes it. Cuno pushes it hard-level… You should give up, poppo. Or the Cunn will keep fucking it out of you.”
CUNOESSE: “Are you okay, Cuno?” She looks worried. The *Cunn* has her confused.




Well, that was a delirious waste of everyone’s time. Just inspect the body and forget that happened.






KIM KITSURAGI: “Active decay,” The lieutenant raises a white piece of linen to his nose. “It’s okay to throw up, officer. No one is judging.”



Don’t throw up in front of the children! They’ll pounce if they sense weakness!











KIM KITSURAGI: “I can’t handle the headache.”



KIM KITSURAGI: “That young woman, the gardener, mentioned she used salts for the smell.” He nods toward the plaza. If she doesn’t have any, there might be some in the Frittte store nearby.”












So, we’ve got a few more things to do at the moment. Go to Kim’s car and retrieve the prybar (and call the precinct while we’re at it) or simply get the keys from Garte, as well as get the ammonia from the gardener. We’ll take care of some of that next time.