No. [grimly] To remove what's inconvenient for us to know. Or smooth the way.
Bifrons doesn't talk much, outside of information they give to their Callsigns. And we don't get to know even half of what we should. Callsigns don't get to know what they should. And for all they claim we're here to help them find a cure, they don't seem to be making much truck on that either.
So that's fun. [doesn't this game sound familiar?]
So far, it feels like they brought a lot of us back from the dead to play house in the city, but I haven't seen it fully operational yet. Sounds like they don't get much done even without the weather acting up.
What's the point of the Callsigns? To give us bad intel from the top?
They're meant to act as liason. Not all of them are bad, and none of them are in a position I envy. But I don't trust them. [whiskey, maybe. but she's not about to weigh in on that with Tex]
The dome's been up a while, and apparently they've been part of how the city ran before then - but their numbers are seriously depleted. Not refilling. And the figureheads? Almost never show themselves.
Far as I can tell, meant to have a full run from Alpha to Zulu. Right now, there are about three we actively have involved with us. Others have recent retired. Or died. The fourth was killed a few days ago. Check the network for her untimely demise. [charming isn't it]
[she doesn't like it, and she dislikes discussing it less, especially when there's so little she knows on the matter. the Callsigns shouldn't be so disposable, not for what they are.]
[She nods slowly. There's a lot she still needs to learn about this place that she's picking up from wherever she can. It surprises her somewhat that Carolina is willing to be this informative, but she's not going to question it.]
[need something, that is. contacting Texas, willingly, isn't likely to happen again any time soon either.
There's a closed look to her eyes as she glances back at Tex, the hovercycle lighting up as she revs the engine.]
Not hating you doesn't mean I want anything to do with you.
[Big as the city is, their mutual circle is small - but Carolina will worry about dealing with that later. The bike whines before moving off, pulling away and out onto the road, a streak of aqua and black. ]
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[and Carolina had hers, even if she's now rather uncomfortably aware of how petty some of them were. But others were not.]
No. He's got his own setup, made his own niche after getting here. I have my own work.
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Should have figured. How long have you been stuck here?
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[it feels a lot longer] Could be longer, I don't know. They like to edit memories as they see fit, or take them away.
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First I'm hearing of that. Do we know why?
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Bifrons doesn't talk much, outside of information they give to their Callsigns. And we don't get to know even half of what we should. Callsigns don't get to know what they should. And for all they claim we're here to help them find a cure, they don't seem to be making much truck on that either.
So that's fun. [doesn't this game sound familiar?]
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So far, it feels like they brought a lot of us back from the dead to play house in the city, but I haven't seen it fully operational yet. Sounds like they don't get much done even without the weather acting up.
What's the point of the Callsigns? To give us bad intel from the top?
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The dome's been up a while, and apparently they've been part of how the city ran before then - but their numbers are seriously depleted. Not refilling. And the figureheads? Almost never show themselves.
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How many of them are there now?
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[she doesn't like it, and she dislikes discussing it less, especially when there's so little she knows on the matter. the Callsigns shouldn't be so disposable, not for what they are.]
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How are they chosen?
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[And just like that, the extent of her willingness to tolerate Texas has been met. No more helpful answers from this source. :(
There's a crunch of gravel as Carolina turns around, attention turning to reactivating her bike before she slings one leg over the saddle. ]
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I got assigned to District 3. You know how to reach me if you need something.
[Closest to a thank you Carolina will receive. Tex remains where she is, arms crossed over her chest, as she watches Carolina prepare to depart.]
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[need something, that is. contacting Texas, willingly, isn't likely to happen again any time soon either.
There's a closed look to her eyes as she glances back at Tex, the hovercycle lighting up as she revs the engine.]
Not hating you doesn't mean I want anything to do with you.
[Big as the city is, their mutual circle is small - but Carolina will worry about dealing with that later. The bike whines before moving off, pulling away and out onto the road, a streak of aqua and black. ]