[b]Brown![/b]

Brown watches faces. Men and women, the air of tension, the performance of control. She listens to the rustle of belts and fabric, sweat stains shaped by the edges of the hard vests underneath. The smells of sugars and fats and coffee, infusions of raw toxic energy. She falls into reveries of silent watching easily. Time disappears when she watches and she can indulge the straightforwards bliss of holding a position of power while utterly inactive.

In the silence she opens her holotop[1] and starts to work.

[1] A holotop is a pencil sized holographic display panel that will project a screen and a keyboard, the modern version of a laptop. They're often dirt cheap, underpowered and have terrible battery life but Brown finds it easier to work around the flaws than to go through the process of replacing hers.

She looks into incident reports, browsing through them until she find Zang's. She opens another tab and starts cross comparing it to relevant case law. Looks into background files - if Zang makes a career out of getting arrested she must have a seriously high powered lawyer in her back pocket, so she looks back in the files until she finds that person and reaches out to them. She takes her time to understand the situation properly and work it right. 

If York wants to play silly buggers with the cops and gets arrested, then she'll provide for him the same level of service.

[b]Green![/b]

The staircase closes. The vents re-open.

People [i]suffocate [/i]in poorly ventilated panic rooms - which this essentially is - especially if you have to, say, pack a dozen or more family members into it. When the staircase goes up it pressurizes the space, and when the room's carbon dioxide sensor - that Green has directed Juan to blow hard onto - registers a high level of carbon dioxide then its automatic system decides that the security risk of an open vent is less concerning than having its manufacturers' name listed alongside the casualty report. 

Not to worry, though - the system will pulse in a rush of air and then seal again automatically, a cycle so quick that it wouldn't present an opportunity for an intruder who didn't want to get cut in half - unless there was, say, a buildup of rust from a leaky water pipe on the key internal gear that slowed it down. Unrelated, did you know that hydrogen peroxide is a common household cleaning product, and mixed with table salt and vinegar it can rapidly rust metal?

Green gestures to Juan to go first. "Piece of advice," she said. "Always make sure the door can't lock behind you."

[Mechanics 3/8, 5+5 [b]10[/b]]

[b]Orange![/b]

"Ah, my fault," said Orange. "I'm just not... a complete enough person."

And that was kind of it. Bondi loved [i]Orange [/i]- and didn't comprehend November. She couldn't take the idea of Orange switching out for a more relevant colour and had sincerely tried to express to Orange that she was special, unique, and if she just believed in herself she could be a real girl all on her own. And the sentiment had been flattering. She'd tried. She'd tried hard, but...

There were holes in her mind. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't fill them. Maintaining a single perspective and personality took all her energy. Concealing the rest of herself from someone felt like trying to pour her light through a pinhole. Talking was all she was, and isolated it was all she could be, so many thoughts running to into dead ends and flaring out. The experience gave her an intimate understanding for the inner lives of the Stepford Wives, as that was essentially what Orange was without her collective.

It still hurt, though. So she's a bit cruel when she turns it around. "It's why I'm envious of humans," she said. "Nine children! You must love your wife a lot. It's a shame she couldn't make it."