[b]Orange![/b]

Orange thinks: And was that the most disappointing thing? We'd already destroyed Costa-Silva's reputation, now she can be laundered into a martyr. But does the 'she was no angel' line compensate for that amongst the moderates? How was this going to play in the public debate? 

She doesn't say it. Will never say it. No Takes. She can't let anyone know how heartless this part of her could be.

"I genuinely don't think that mattered," said Orange. "She was corrupt but almost all of them are corrupt. Her crime was technical and bloodless; she was a slumlord. The report happened in a high-end journal for lawyers and was going to inspire an ethics investigation, it had barely started to echo out into the general public yet. It wasn't like she'd been bribed into this decision. If that was the reason, anything might have been the reason."

Even now the intellectualism aches through. Systems of power. What are the new dynamics of the court? She tries to push it back but realizes too late that the cleverness was a bandage over a bloodier emotion.

"Fuck," she said, fists clenching. "I hate her for this. I hate that she hurt people all her life and she never had to face it. I hate that someone else got sucked into this. I hate that I couldn't make this go the way I wanted. I hate that the mother of nine children didn't even attend her little girl's birthday party because she was doing [i]this [/i]instead. I hate that I'm cancelling everything that's special to me because now [i]I'm[/i] doing this too. I fucking hate it here and now I can't even explain why or what I want instead. Blue was right, Yellow is insane, Pink is broken and I'm the useless social node who can't even figure out a basic societal weld."

She took a steadying breath, trying to calm herself down. "It could have been us. It could have been the wind. I wouldn't have done it if I knew. Even now I don't know. I want to attribute some historical inevitability or pattern or righteousness or guilt or blame or some fucking thing to all this that would make it knowable and make it a simple matter of me personally fucking up. I'd [i]love [/i]it if that was the case. I know [i]exactly [/i]how to torment myself for my failures."

[b]Red![/b]

She holds the tissue box. 

She can do this right. Present, solid, quiet until called for. She gets it. No need to flip out, just be a comfort for as long as she was needed. 

[b]Black![/b]

It's... pleasant to have a free hand to be direct. A handful of firecrackers in a distant neighbourhood will be reported as gunshots and flood the police lines with panicked phone calls. A wave of the hand, freeing her for a direct physical takedown of the two guards.

This is a capability she needs to become familiar with. Like Red had said, this was a time for hard power. She's going to come in hot and physically incapacitate both guards with fists and stun weaponry. Sometimes brute force was the correct answer, and sometimes White's not there to warn her that she's probably motivated by frustration -

"Can I talk to him first?" asks Pink.
"What!?" said Black.
"I mean, like... knock on his door, sit down at his table and ask him questions," said Pink. "You know. He might answer."
"I would prefer to be doing that while wearing a balaclava and holding a wrench," said Black.
"Yeah but... like, that kind of sucks?" said Pink. "Like... fuck that, honestly?"
"..." Black glared at her. 
"Cool," said Pink, stepping back and half-bowing with a smile. "So, like... if I fuck up, avenge my death?"
"... fine," said Black, putting her hands in her pockets and looking away.

So that was how Pink came to knock on the door of Mr. Dudekov, holding a large basket full of sandwiches*, with a bright smile. "Hi there!" she said. "You have ten minutes for a really important chat?"