Books And Covers Thereof (1.17)

>Kitty: Try not to combust with embarrassment as you approach the police officer


Kitty walks towards Officer Kiplin’s table, the scent of alcohol thickening into a musty soup around the cop. This seemed like a rather curious scientific phenomenon, and Kitty begins to wonder if she should tell someone. Maybe they would name it after her. “Kitty’s Beer Singularity Theory.”


The woman looks...Not as if she has seen better days, but as if those days had not existed at all. Her eyes have thick red cracks running from the edge to her irises, over pink eyeballs. Up close, Kitty can see that her nose has been broken before, probably more than once. Faint white lines on her cheek reveal old scars, and a bandage near her eyes hides a new one. The skin on her head and neck is pink, and peeling. Her red hair is short but wild, clearly presently uncombed.


The palms of her hands are covered in calluses. Her police uniform has clearly been ripped and sewn back up on multiple occasions, and this woman appear to have been built entirely out of muscle. She could probably break Kitty’s neck without a thought.


>Kitty: Attempt to speak with the officer. Fail to do so in the most dramatic way possible.

Kitty opens her mouth to say: “Hello, respected and hard working officer of the law. I see that you are clearly having a bad day. I am sorry, but there is an important matter upon which I must insist on speaking to you about, posthaste.”


With mounting horror, Kitty soon realizes that she actually said was: “Oh my god, you are an absolutely gargantuan person!”


The officer’s head turned up towards her, regarding her quietly behind thick blue glasses. “Ye weren’t usin’ that neck, were ye?”


Oh dear Lord. Kitty’s hands clasp around her neck. “Oh, no, no ma’am! I mean, yes I am, yes I am! I am quite fond of me neck. I mean, my neck! I meant no offense! I merely intended to compliment you on your well-defined and intimidating muscles!”


“...Oi, fancy gal,” says the officer.


“Er, me?” asks Pamela.


“Does yer friend always talk like that?”


“Only when she’s nervous.” Kitty nods emphatically, still clutching her throat.


Officer Kiplin regards Kitty a bit longer.


Kitty gulps.


“Ya!” The officer lunges forward suddenly, causing Kitty to jump back with a yelp and hide behind Pamela. The officer giggles uncontrollably, in a way Kitty did not expect from a muscular police officer.


“Yer all right,” says the officer.


“What’s wrong with you? Are you twelve?!”


“Yeah.”


“You’re just as weird as Mi-Yargh!” Kitty is momentarily interrupted as Mindy shoves her face into her field of view.


“Hey!” says Mindy.


“Don’t do that!” Kitty shouts. Pamela puts an arm around Kitty, gently moving her to sit down in a chair.


“You know, Kitty, maybe I ought to talk to them.”


“These people are insane!” Kitty shakes with panic and frustration, sweating.


“It’ll be all right. You did good. Lady’d be proud of you.” Pamela gives her a tight hug. Kitty blushes, putting her head down as Pamela lets go of her. She listens to the rest of the conversation with her eyes shut, trying to control her breathing.


“Mindy.”


“Snrrrrrk-What?”


“You know what.”


“What’s goin’ on ‘ere?”


“Don’t worry about it. Officer, miss, my associates and I-”


“I’ve always wanted to be an associate.”


“...Mindy. As I was saying, my associates and I, that is, Mindy and Kitty-”


“That rhymes.”


“-are trying to get into a party so we can confront Dante Ilucis.”


“...Th’ well-known playboy son of Lord Ilucis, well-known middle-aged playboy, himself th’ son of the late well-known senior citizen playboy Lord Ilucis?”


“The very same.”


Kitty jumped a little as Kiplin’s bottle of alcohol was slammed on the table.


“I’ll do it,” she says flatly.


“...Do what? We were just going to ask if you knew anyth-”


“I heard ye talkin’. Everyone else’s goin’. I’m not doin’ anythin’ better. Should probably investigate it anyway, as long as I’m on duty.”
“You’re on duty?!”


“If ye were on th’ traffic assignment my squad was on, ye’d be drinkin’ too.”


“...So do you have any information-”


“Probably nothin’ ye don’t know already.”


“...Anything useful you can do?”


“I can knock down doors and have a cheerful an’ sunny disposition.”


“...I will just jot that down.”





* * *



Within minutes, the bar - it’s patrons having realized they were all in on this conspiracy together, and having also realized that Meb Faust didn’t really seem to care much as long as they were shoving coins into her hand periodically - was a hub of activity. Annie and the mysterious unconscious man had both been brought inside. Presently, the latter was in a backroom, laying on the floor and being watched in shifts to see if he would wake up. The former was currently firmly attached to Kitty’s side, arms wrapped around her and leaning on the side of her head.


Mindy and Kiplin watched in fascination. Pamela quietly went over her notes next to them. The french woman was presently watching the unconscious guy.


“Ye an’ th’ princess, eh?” asks Kiplin.


“No comment,” clarifies Kitty. “It’s complicated,” she says, backpedalling quickly.


“It’s an open relationship,” responds Annie. Kitty rolls her eyes.


“How do you know each other...?” asks Mindy. Over the course of idle conversation, Kitty had gathered that Annie knew each other. Not in a very personable way, but in the vague way that people who are forced to go to the same parties growing up are required to know each other.


“We played together as children,” said Annie.

“Er, what? How would you have met-”


“Ahem,” says Pamela, putting her notepad on the table. “I have outlined our goals...” Everyone leaned over to read it.




1.) Acquire someone’s invitation to the party.


2.) Search Dante Ilucis’ day job next door for any clues.


3.) Purchase costumes at the shop down the street.


4.) Enter party in a convincing fashion.

“Where would you like to start?” asks Pamela.