You've done enough interviews in the past to know how this usually goes. They throw you some worthless softball questions and you make sure to say only what they want to hear. You're not at all impressed with the first question he threw your way.

"What is the end goal of your research?"

Your trusty mask slips over your face. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes. Your voice slips into a polite, but completely hollow, cadence. "Well, Quincy, I see a problem that I'm itching to solve. ARC is struggling to make anomalies a stable source of income."

"Of course, there will always be money in the anomaly containment business, solely because other companies don't want to contain anomalies. I get it! I do!"

"But! I can find a way to make renewable, *consistent* products for ARC. MOJO is only one product in a whole franchise of products I want to create." You scrape your nail across the table. "See, there’s always something renewable in the anomalies I get. Flowers. Wine. Bile."

"You just need to have to actually pay attention to what you have, and you need the wherewithal to take advantage of it."

"Of course, of course." Quincy’s own smile is practically wriggling, like his skin is barely humoring the idea of staying attached to him. "It’s rare seeing someone with foresight down here. Your ‘friends’, if you’ll excuse the harsh words, are too…simple-minded to see the bigger picture."

"Too lost in their own personal squabbles and obsessions to even THINK about anything long term."

"That’s what we like about you." Quincy’s smile somehow manages to widen even further. He must be wearing veneers, there’s no way teeth should be THAT white. "You’re the ideal worker. BLACKWELL has shown us some recordings they had of you and, golly, the things you get up to."

You really don’t like the idea of having an audience watching your every move, but you made your bed with BLACKWELL ages ago. "Of course. I believe they would be able to confirm my statements?"

"Indeed, indeed. This interview is a formality, of course, but that’s what professionals do. We indulge in formalities that seem to only exist to waste time. We must follow the will of Corporate Love, as it were."

You vaguely get where he’s going with this. It’s the same song and dance you’ve heard from hundreds of these corporate types. ‘The company is all that matters’, ‘a productive worker is a good worker’, yada yada. You grin and nod along. No point trying to argue with what he’s saying.

"Of course, sir. You’re so right."

"Now, now, no need for flattery. Even if I do enjoy listening to it." Quincy softly admonishes, moreso out of professional courtesy.. He jots down your answers on his little notepad before he speaks again.

"Now, what is your view on anomalies? I believe you may have already said this to someone before, but just repeat it for the record." Oh thank god, another softball question. You’ve had time to dwell on this one for a good long while

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You’ve had time to dwell on this one for a good long while, and your thoughts on them haven’t changed too much.

"They’re fascinating, sir. These entities are parodies of human ideas and beliefs that, in their own way, are almost more than human." What are you, but a hollow husk of a man? At least they have a sense of purpose.

"Interesting. So would you say you’re an anomaly sympathizer?" That’s a loaded question if you’ve heard one.

You decide to answer honestly. "Sorta, actually. I wouldn’t say I’d save an anomaly over one of my coworkers. I’m not a wacko. But a lot of the time, anomalies end up being humans who have just ended up in the wrong place, at the wrong time."

"I should at least give them the courtesy they deserve. I’m not going to act like their condition makes them any less important than me."

"Would you say you see yourself in them?"

"..." You’re not super sure if you should answer this question honestly. There wouldn’t really be any wrong answer to it. Anomaly synchronization is a thing, there is an almost tangible metric for how much of yourself you ‘see’ in an anomaly. "Why wouldn’t I? I’ve related to them enough to get several gifts from them."

"You know what I meant by that question." Quincy’s crooked grin almost melts right off his face. Not literally, of course, but that’s the best descriptor you got.

You awkwardly clear your throat as you prepare to answer. "Sometimes. I work on an anomaly that seems to have the same thoughts as me. I find glimpses, fragments, of who I am inside of every anomaly."

"I feel like denying that would be like trying to deny that water makes things wet, or rejecting the fact that the walls of this very room are made of cheap chinese steel."

Quincy’s smile, strangely, fades at your admission. Like you answered the question wrong, or that he FEELS like your answer should be wrong. "I wish I could understand why some people can answer that way."

We all, at Q&Q, can only see them for what they are. Merely as sources of Abnormal Energy and biological materials." There’s an audible tinge of disappointment that lingers even after he’s done talking. "I suppose I share their viewpoint on the matter."

You don’t think he’s disappointed at his inability to relate to your view point, or that he’s disappointed in himself. At most, there’s a flicker of recognition in his soulless eyes that there’s a fundamental difference between you two. Not physically, but spiritually.

"Myes," Quincy’s throat squirms as he tries to clear it. "I apologize for the unprofessional tangent. We here at Q&Q do not subscribe to any political or spiritual ideologies."

You’re sensing he’s only saying that to cover his own ass. Maybe there’s someone higher up on the Q&Q food chain watching him as the two of you speak. This place is flooded with corpo scum, and hell, maybe this whole thing is a sponsorship he and Quinn are working on.

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"But yes, to answer your question, well. They’re obsessively driven to do one thing, over and over again, day in and day out. I’m not too different from them, am I?" The only difference is you’re cognizant of that fact, and you’re able to change if you want to.

Hell, is that even unique to you? Anomalies can change as well. What’s really the distinction once you get down to the brass tacks? Before you can dwell on the question for long, Quincy changes the subject.

"An interesting response, all things considered. You are aware that you’re associating with an anti-anomaly company, correct?" Right. WARDEN.

The CIGARETTE MOLD itself is anomalous by its very nature, and they’re buying that stuff by the truckload, so they really shouldn’t care if you’re an anomaly sympathizer. You say as much to Quincy, and he concedes on this point.

"Fair, fair! Now, Thirdly, what drives you to do the things you, well, do? We heard you constantly throw yourself into life or death situations."

Now that’s an actually tricky question, mostly because you don’t have a solid answer for it. You could make something up on the spot, but what’d be the fun in that? You actually want to answer it in a way you’d agree with.

"Well." You test out some words in your mouth, trying to find the ones that feel right. "Pride, for one. I know NINTH isn’t going to like hearing that I indulged in such a sin, but it’s true. I feel proud of the things I do."

"Nothing can stop me. Harvesters? Anomalies? Murderers trying to hide their tracks? Mindless killing machines I can only describe as ‘robust’? I’ve survived through it all." You roll up your sleeve, showing the still fresh scars you have from today’s expeditions.

"I’m still standing. I’m still alive. I’ll keep marching forward, no matter what’s thrown my way." In the background of your psyche, the metallic ‘cling-clack’ of a gear turning is heard. "There’s something intoxicating about it. How I’m able to endure through things that should kill the average person twelve times over."

"Pride," Quincy echoes what you said. "Pride of a job well done. Pride in our own abilities. While we at Q&Q may prefer less ambitious employees on a whole, there is value in having pride in your capabilities."

"Of course. That leads into another reason why: it’s an obligation. A burden. No one else is willing to put in the work needed to get things done." Your voice deepens for a moment, as if someone else is speaking through you. Someone who used to say this exact same thing every other night before you went to bed.

"No one else was going to look into the cold case of a murdered girl. No one else was going to stop a murderous robot from attacking random people. No one else was going to stop a stalker from harassing my brother." You have to fight your facial muscles to keep your expression level and neutral. "I had to do it. I’m the one willing to break my body to do what has to be done."

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"And boy! There’s no shortage of problems that need solving, even off the clock!"

"So you’re a problem solver at heart, then?" If Quincy noticed that you were getting more emotional, he’s politely tried to ignore it. "Would you say you resent your situation?"

"The messed-up part is I’d be lying if I said yes." Well, in truth, it’d be a partial lie. "Honestly? It’s the only way I can feel useful to the people around me. And, look."

"Must there always be a 'reason' behind it? What if I genuinely do it because it's the right thing to do? Maybe the pencil pushers here wouldn’t help someone if it doesn’t directly benefit them."

"I admit, it’s easy for me to think of excuses as to why I shouldn’t help someone. Maybe I personally dislike them. Maybe my time could be put to better use. There are millions of reasons you can make up, truthfully."

You slump your shoulders, as if you’re admitting defeat. "But I can’t. Not in good conscience. I’m not hollowed out enough to even consider giving up on someone, without at least trying."

"Eye for an eye." Quincy states, seemingly more for his sake than yours. "What a strange worldview you have. You feel like you have to be kind and helpful, because no one else would. Some people might say that kind of kindness is phony. If you’re only being nice out of obligation."

"Maybe. But you have to be selfish to be selfless." There’s a hint of a smile in your expression. "So what if I’m kind to others out of obligation, or because I feel a sense of pride after helping them? Didn’t I still help them? Does the intention behind it matter?"

Quincy’s shoulders tensed up. He doesn’t immediately try to answer your question. You give him a moment to think about it.

He opened his mouth, about to say something, but the words never left his mouth. He sits there gap mouthed like a fish struggling to breathe.

"Finally," he moves onto the next question without even addressing what you said. "What do you fear the most?"

The answer comes out before your brain can even register it. "Being useless. There’s nothing I fear more. I am my work, and that's all I know."

"I’m good at it too. Given the opportunity, I seriously doubt I’d even choose another path." Your expression curdles into something that resembles what a skinwalker might make if it was told to smile. Your mouth hurts. "What am I if I’m not useful to someone?"

Quincy’s own expression rots into an expression similar to the one you must be wearing. Intellectually, you know his expression is that of joy, but it’s a hollow simulacrum of joy. A mask. You’re two wageslaves, both wearing the same mask of faux-joy. He doesn’t say anything, inviting you to continue speaking.

"We are what we are, Quincy. If we’re not useful, then what are we? We’re drones in a machine that’ll keep turning no matter what we do."

"Indeed," Quincy sluggishly nods. "Indeed we are. The purpose of work is to earn the right to continue working."

"That is the nature of our roles, and to deny that is to deny reality."

"Indeed." You mimic his own words right back at him. "You do realize, BLACKWELL, you could’ve asked me personally instead of using someone as a middle man." You shoot a nasty look towards the STRANGER, who’s sitting only two tables away from you.

"Living down here is to acknowledge that we are all stuck in an interlocking system of sponsorships and corporate deals, Vincent." Quincy gestures at you to look away from the STRANGER. "We are only engaging in dialogue because you accepted a sponsorship from us. I believe you understand why I have to do the things I do. Yes.”

"Tallied up all of your. Answers." Quincy finishes scribbling down the last of your words. "To be honest? There was no way you could fail. Without intentionally trying to fail. We here at Q&Q simply enjoy…engaging in dialogue with those of a similar belief structure to use.”

"But I thought you said your group subscribed to no ideological framework.”

"A lie. A truth. The refusal to engage in any opinion or thought that would detract from our ability to profit IS our ideological framework." His words linger in the air for a second. "To be frank, that’s what all businesses believe in, truly, but compared to the obsessions that other companies here have?”

"Well. I suppose it does make us different. Better, perhaps." Quincy’s smile vanishes in the blink of an eye. "I will admit that your answers have made you a perfect employee for our cause.”

"You’re what we look for. You’re what the system wants. There may be some quirks to you that may prove unprofitable in some ways, but you are what we need. Something reliable and predictable, but with enough agency to do things we can’t.”

"Someone who fears the mere idea of not being wanted, of being obsolete. Someone who intends to save as much profit as possible, through preventing the necessity of replacing assets. Do you know how much it costs to replace and train a human employee?”

While the way he’s phrasing it is making your skin crawl, you’re glad to know he’s willing to see the bigger picture. Even if it’s in his own little weird way.

"We see value in associating with you. You are, in effect, a version of us still connected enough to humanity to understand them. Consider us your new corporate sponsor for the foreseeable future, Vincent Cruz.”
>Q&Q SPONSORSHIP COMPLETED! GOODWILL (QUOTA) IS AT +7!
>You’ve unlocked an exclusive Q&Q CATALOG! This will offer a variety of productivity boosting items otherwise unobtainable to you.

"So that's it? "You were expecting a bit more fanfare to the sponsorship being completed.

"That is it. You said what we wanted to hear, and we're going to relay your answers to companies who are interested in you, of course.”
>You sense your answers has minorly improved your relationship with all SPONSORSHIP COMPANIES.

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"As for a reward? I will personally accommodate you to your meeting, for I wish to be your associate."

"The way your mind ticks, and the way your product flies off the shelves, well. It would be bad for business if I did not at least attempt to help you."

You can sense the air shifting. The crowd of corporate husks and wageslaves that populate the very room you’re in are starting to grow agitated. The air stinks of old coffee, pen ink, and the rot of forgotten dreams. Your meeting with ARC is going to happen any second now, and you know it.

There's no point resisting the will of the crowd. Quincy grabs your hand, ready to lead you through the maze of hollow husks so you can get to where you need to be. You would protest but there's really no point in even bothering to humor the idea. You go limp as you're forcefully dragged deeper into the crowd.

You're only able to catch small glimpses of Hidaka and co amongst the crowd. It appears they also got 'captured', each one being dragged by a different corporate representative. At least you're going to reunite with them. You did partially hire each of them to help with the upcoming meeting anyways.

You pray to whatever deity exists out there that you're able to make it through relatively unscathed. With Quincy's guidance, you soon find yourself in front of a relatively innocuous door that looks like any other door in the facility. The only thing making it stand out to you is the simple placard resting next to it.

"PMR #3-5. RESERVED FOR V.C MEETING."

You turn your head. Hidaka is standing only a foot away from you, with TIMELESS' representative right next to her. To your other side, you spot Colt and Hidaka, both of which are accompanied by WARDEN's representative. At least the group's all back together.

You're not even given a chance to do any last minute work on your pitch. The door swings open and you are promptly dragged in.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sIVBt1BuGes - THE MEETING BEGINS

The second you cross the boundary, your lungs are flooded with a noxious blend of cigarette smoke and aerosolized body spray. Someone must've pumped in several cans worth of air freshener in here too, since there's this artificial tang of cherry in the air as well. It doesn't help your already battered lungs. Your eyes are watering, blurring your vision to the point you can only make out a smear of grey.

You can't even make out the room you're in. The only guess you have as to its size is that the voices you hear have an audible echo to them. That only makes you question how they've managed to flood this room with enough smoke to blur your vision.

"It's him, right?" A melodic, and distinctly robotic, voice breaks the silence first. She seems to be chewing on something. "That 'Vincent' fellow?"

"It should be. Not to be crude, but it's not like he's particularly memorable," says someone with the voice of a familiar executive. If you're not wrong, that's Ms. White's voice!

Good, good. Part of the reason you wanted to do the meeting today was to distract her.

"TSK. THIS IS BENEATH OUR NOTICE AND YOU KNOW IT." A monotone voice speaks up. Whoever this voice belongs to clearly has no idea what an inside voice is. His voice drones out at a level that's just BARELY not a shout. "IF MR. RUST DIDN'T TELL US WE HAD TO BE HERE..."

"You know as well as I that we can trust him." Ms. White defends her colleague almost instinctively.

The smoke clears just enough to reveal who's been talking. You'd recognize the all white outfit and pale skin of Ms. White anywhere, but the other two are brand new faces.

To her left is the owner of the melodic voice. She's not human in the slightest. Her body is made out of segmented sheets of steel, which loosely flex and bend like the scales on a snake. Her face is merely a screen, with bright red pixels in place of an actual pair of eyes, or a mouth.

Her arms are stumps, barely more than pegs even.

To her right, there's a brick shithouse of a man. You wouldn't be shocked if he ate nails for breakfast. His outfit is ripped straight out of a lumberjack's fashion catalog, with layers upon layers of red plaid and leather covering his frame. His face is obscured by a shoddy faux-leather mask, most likely as some weird attempt at intimidating you.

You can make out the murmurings of several other voices, presumably from various corporate figures you won over from completing various sponsorships, but that damn smoke is making it impossible to see them.

"Mr. Cruz." Ms. White addresses you. "Please, introduce us to your product. We're on a tight schedule today so please, do not drag this out."

"C'mon, our-"

"Mr. Wesson." Ms. White snaps her gaze right towards your patriotic friend. "Do not speak unless spoken to. Thank you very much. Now, Mr. Cruz, please continue."

An introduction shouldn't be too hard. How do you want to open your pitch? Pick up to two. This may impact future speech checks.
>Take it easy. Offer a basic overview of your product. No need to wow them yet.
>Get right to the chase. They're here for something PROFITABLE. Really LEAN into how PROFITABLE your product is.
>Focus on the unique benefits of your product over other nicotine products. Health benefits, its synergy with various samples, the works.
>Why 'talk' about it, when you can show them how good your product is! Offer free samples of your mold to everyone in attendance! (Obviously removes all of the samples you have on person. Goodbye catalog money...)
>Let Hidaka speak. She knows a thing or two about logistics, and how easily ARC could mass produce it, if she had some time to explain it to them.
>Let Colt speak. Let him rile up the crowd. Let him get them EXCITED for your product. He's the perfect hypeman.
>Let Nine speak. She'd know how to phrase things in a way her fellow COLORED EXECUTIVES would like!
>Write in!

Sorry for this update being _severely_ delayed. We're going to be back on track now.

>>6458085
>Focus on the unique benefits of your product over other nicotine products. Health benefits, its synergy with various samples, the works.

>>6458085
>Focus on the unique benefits of your product over other nicotine products. Health benefits, its synergy with various samples, the works.
>Get right to the chase. They're here for something PROFITABLE. Really LEAN into how PROFITABLE your product is.

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>>6458083
Well that interview went about as well as we could have hoped. Thank goodness.
And it seems as though we've found something of a kindred soul at Q&Q, which is a nice bonus.

>>6458085
>Get right to the chase. They're here for something PROFITABLE. Really LEAN into how PROFITABLE your product is.
>Focus on the unique benefits of your product over other nicotine products. Health benefits, its synergy with various samples, the works.

Welcome back!

>>6458085
>Focus on the unique benefits of your product over other nicotine products. Health benefits, its synergy with various samples, the works.
>Get right to the chase. They're here for something PROFITABLE. Really LEAN into how PROFITABLE your product is.
If you're smelling money, then your nose is functioning because this *is* MONEY, folks!

>>6458119
>found something of a kindred soul at Q&Q
I can see it now. Vincent, Colt, Edward, Quincy, and 199X all walking down the hallway together or being cool...

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>>6458085
>Get right to the chase. They're here for something PROFITABLE. Really LEAN into how PROFITABLE your product is.
>Focus on the unique benefits of your product over other nicotine products. Health benefits, its synergy with various samples, the works.