PRIVATE MEETINGS

[andexecutioner]

If you'd like to have a private meeting with the Adjudicator, this is where you should go! The Adjudicator is available at almost all hours of the day; just knock and he'll answer.

Comments are screened for privacy; no eavesdropping, that's rude.

Comments

[andexecutioner]

[...Well, he wasn't exactly expecting that, given how this conversation started out, but.]

What about it?

[greenmamabear]

You said everything we've done, our "influence" or whatever, will be gone.

Does that, uh, include...

[andexecutioner]

You want to know if your son is still going to exist. Is that it?

[His expression has gone a bit strange; generally impassive, though there's something almost approaching interest in his eyes as opposed to the usual apathy.]

[greenmamabear]

[Her grip on the chair tightens.]

...Yeah. I need to know.

[andexecutioner]

[He looks at her for a good long moment in silence before going back to his drawings; he's smiling a bit to himself, though.]

That's a good question, isn't it.

1/2

[greenmamabear]

[greenmamabear]

You motherfucker.

[andexecutioner]

I don't know why you're surprised.

I'm a murderer, right?

[greenmamabear]

You're a goddamn predatory sadist, on top of it.

[andexecutioner]

Predatory...? That's new.

[Not one that he's going to deny, mind you. Just one that he hasn't heard.]

I don't know what you expected me to tell you.

[greenmamabear]

Something! Anything! A yes, a no, an-an actual answer! Not your wi-wishy-washy "Oh I-I-I'll never t-tell" bullshit! S-Some k-k-kind of...

[If it was awkward before, Fern's sobbing probably isn't going to make it any easier.]

[andexecutioner]

[...ohhhh, shit.

That...that actually gets a similar response to the last time she cried in his general direction; there's a definite freezing-up that happens, and he just kind of stares and his features go rigid, almost alarmingly masklike.]

...I'm not going to give you anything concrete like that. It's not how things around here work.

[greenmamabear]

I d-don't care how they w-work. [Said through tears.]

I just want my son to be safe.

[andexecutioner]

...Yeah. I know.

[And that does get his gaze to dart, his eyes closing a bit; he seems agitated, though it's hard to tell at what, exactly.]

I can't guarantee that. No one can, really.

[greenmamabear]

[Fuck.

Fuuuuuuck.

She just needs to rest her face in her hands for a moment here.]

Is this all you do? Hurt?

[andexecutioner]

I do my job.

[greenmamabear]

Your job... sucks.

[andexecutioner]

...Yeah, it does sometimes. I'm not going to try to say it doesn't.

[greenmamabear]

Oh piss off. You love this. [Fern you are running through a lot of emotions in here.]

[andexecutioner]

Keep telling yourself that.

The truth of the matter is that I'm not that invested in you. Enough to do my job properly, sure. But what you do isn't going to matter to me in the long run.

[greenmamabear]

[She grumbles to herself.]

Invested enough to grab impulsive children and steal their souls every week...

[andexecutioner]

They're old enough to know better than to murder people.

[greenmamabear]

Not old enough to be trusted to make responsible decisions one hundred percent of the time. Especially in something as stressful as this.

[andexecutioner]

Most people aren't, but that's not really my problem either way.

[greenmamabear]

You're literally responsible for it.