Logs:Sealed By Paper and Word

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Cast

Mearcstapa, Wren, Saagochque, Esme Chevrette

Setting

The Hale Building

Log

When Saagochque gets in touch to set up a meeting with Mearc and Wren, the address that she gives for where to meet is a little less unsettling, but it's still unusual. It's not Eastern State Penitentiary, but the Hale Building in the heart of Philly has been abandoned for quite some time, a historic property with (supposedly) nobody occupying it in the midst of a block of much newer edifices.

They were told that Saagochque was going to make an introduction to someone who oversees some of the properties that the vampires make use of, and not a lot more detail than that. Essentially that she was handing things off to this person so that the people more directly involved could make arrangements.

The door that their directions pointed them toward is a metal one, locked and fairly well secured. There are no notable gaps to slip things through, there's a solid lock in place, and in general, it's the sort of thing most people wouldn't even consider trying to break through. There are also cameras covering the location and its approach from multiple angles, and all the windows are up above head height except in the front of the building, right on the main street, which is the building's narrower side. The door they were directed to is not the front one, but a side entrance.

Mearc seems to be in a good mood as he approaches the building. Once again, he's kinda-sorta dressed up, pairing his cargo pants with a button down shirt under a cardigan, and has his usual messenger bag.

"By the way." This comment to Wren as they approach. "Anneliese asked after you since you left so quick after the protests."

Wren's dressed up, because it suits her to be so (heheh). Jacket, vest, dress shirt, slacks and tie, the works, helping the minute Beast to present a more professional front than she might otherwise be capable of at first glance.

"Oh! Well, yeah. I needed to. I'd just wandered all through the other camp- that's not the time to beeline to your associates, that's the time to fuck off and make sure there's nothing connecting you to anybody."

The building doesn't say or do anything until the pair actually reaches the door, and then there are only a few minutes before there is a thunk and buzz that's almost certainly familiar to the two: an electromagnetic door lock being disengaged. Still not actual people, though.

"I get you. Still, though. You ought to text her when we're done here. I think she was concerned."

Once the pair enter via this door, Mearc takes a moment to check the weather stripping and if it goes all the way to the top and bottom of the door--there are exploits possible on doors like this if there's even a 1/8th of an inch gap that one can get the straw from a can of compressed air or certain other tools through, that he can mention--perhaps even demonstrate later.

"Annie was?" Wren asks, a little puzzled.

She's not worried about the physical security so much. She's paying attention- her senses are so sharp it's obscene- but she's letting Mearc look for his exploits. She's looking for her own. One of which is going to be signs that someone- anyone- stays here.

The door looks like it was installed by competent professionals, but not heavily upgraded. The strike plate is configured correctly, the weather stripping is good, there are no motion sensors on the inside, and there are metal plates protecting the most common attack vectors, but it also has a pretty standard off-the-shelf lock that your typical contractor might include.

The room inside looks like it would be a reception area if it were finished. One of the walls doesn't even have drywall on this side, just on the side of the next room over, there is plastic sheeting and dust all over the floor, and the drop ceiling above currently has all of its panels out, though the lights are working.

Through the door into the next room beyond come two women. The first is Saagochque, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt and a grey jacket that are all as thoroughly bland as possible, like she's doing her best to ensure she blends in with the random people on the street outside as well as possible. The second is the woman from the protest who Mearc has been trying to track down for a couple of days, who stops in her tracks at the sight of the two Lost, while Saagochque makes it a couple of more steps before realizing her companion was left behind. "Is something wrong?" she asks as she glances back at Esme, and then at the Changelings.

Mearc considers possible 'proper' responses to this situation, his freckles flickering bright red before rapidly shifting green. Oh, he recognizes Esme, and doesn't manage to hide it, and by the time things have gotten awkward, he's decided the best thing to do is to do finger guns at Esme with his own crooked smile. "Well, this saves me the trouble of messaging the Indigenous Solidarity PA Youtube account, I suppose."

Wren does her best to keep a business-like demeanor when the woman stops short. It's not somebody she recognizes, but she recognizes her response and that's usually the one people have before they burst out laughing or make with the Professional Smile and the Laughter Behind The Eyes.

If it turns out to be Mearc that stopped her short, though, there's gonna be a relieved grin on that little one's face. She does do a slow turn and a puzzled squint at her partner when he... finger guns.

Saagochque is clearly keeping her eyes on the Changelings, while at the same time waiting for a cue from Esme about what's going on and whether it's a threat. She's not quite braced to attack, but there's definitely something in her posture that speaks to the capacity for sudden violence.

It subsides when Esme lets out a laugh and says, "what an interesting coincidence. That was a nice speech you gave the other night." To Saagochque she says, with what seems to be affection, "it's alright, Sakima. I ran into your friend here the night of the protest, but never got a chance to actually say hello."

To which Saagochque's reaction is a smile that would be more pleasant if her face weren't so disturbingly gaunt and a soft, "ah. That would explain it. Esme, this is Mearcstapa and Wren," she indicates each with a motion of her chin toward each.

"We were both at the protest, but it doesn't surprise me you didn't catch Wren. She was working behind the scenes, somewhat." Mearc's smile remains, as he offers Esme a hand to shake. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Saagochque, and to meet you, Esme. Thank you for this meeting."

Wren beams to be introduced and offers her own hand as well, unless Mearcstapa's is rejected, in which case she offers a bow instead. Trynna be polite. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Esme, and wonderful, of course, to see you again, Saagochque. Mearcstapa has the right of it, I was inside for the most part- I was only outside after the walkout had already been arranged, making sure nobody went home bloody."

Esme takes the offered hands and shakes them. Her touch is warm and, unlike Saagochque, she looks like an ordinary person, not a creepy monster. "I mean no offense," she says to Wren. "There were a lot of people there, and I can be good at picking up details, but I have my limits." She smiles in a self-deprecating way at this, like it's meant mostly as a joke. She then turns to Saagochque, who gets a fond smile. "I think I can take it from here if you needed to go," she says. It's not a dismissal, definitely not that, just a recognition of the limits on the Sakima's time, but she also seems peculiarly eager not to have the extra set of eyes and ears there.

Which Saagochque definitely seems to pick up on. Her eyes narrow a little and glances at the Changelings, then gives Esme a bit of a side-eye before she cracks a smile of her own. "Okay, okay. I know when I'm not wanted," she says, raising her hands as if in surrender as she heads toward the door into the rest of the building, though not so quickly someone couldn't catch her if they had more to say.

The whole exchange feels a little bit like a teenager who wants their mom to go away so she can talk to her friends without supervision, and a parent who knows exactly what's going on but gets it.

Mearc's gaze follows Saagochque, amusement obvious on his freckly face. He doesn't say anything, but gives her a bit of a wave.

"Oh, no offense taken, Esme, I-" She pauses, as if considering her words. Truth told, she considered them already. "- am used to getting the shocked deer response the first time clients see me. I was bracing to put on one of my "no, really, I swear I'm a big girl now, Dad" shows. It's relieving that I don't need to. I'm sorry if I left you thinking that bristling was your fault, it surely wasn't anything of the sort."

"Another time, Saagochque? Stay well and do have a lovely evening!"

Esme calls after Saagochque, "I'll come by later to keep you updated!" The Sakima just waves the comment off and says, "have fun talking shop with your new friends. Good night!" Which seems to include all three of them. Then she's gone.

It's possible that Saagochque could still be in earshot, but Esme seems to either not be worried about it, or not care, as she turns back around and looks at Mearc. "The way your colors change is mesmerizing," she says a little breathlessly. "I hope you don't mind me commenting on it, but it has been a while since the last time I saw someone's mien."

To Wren she says, "that must get frustrating. Feeling like you need to prove you're actually a professional to everyone, I mean. I'm glad if I didn't make you feel that way."

"You, uh. You can see my mien? Oh. Yes, I'm told I'm an open book because of my freckles sometimes. How...are you piercing the Mask? Are you the Sakima's expert on us, then?" He gives Wren a confused sidelong glance. The tone of this meeting is Very Much not what he'd come in anticipating.

Wren's shock to hear that this chick is staring past Mearc's mask is- ironically- hidden by her own Rigid Mask's desperate adherence to protecting her- at least, assuming Esme didn't crack that, too. "It is frustrating, extremely so- but followed by the catharsis of showing them who they're dealing with. That part?" Wren grins, feline ears twitching in delight. "That part, I like."

She pretends to miss the glance, trying to gauge whether she's seen past both Masks or just Mearc's, avoiding giving any subtext that she, too, is Changeling until she has that figured out.

"Oh, right, sorry. I guess I should start from somewhere at least close to the general area of the beginning," Esme says with a laugh. "The reason Sakima brought me in is actually because I manage some of the properties our community makes use of, well... communally. You could think of me as something like the equivalent of someone appointed to make sure things are in order at a Freehold's Hollow, with authority to deal with people who get out of line. The fact that I used to be Fae-Touched before I was made, well," she makes finger claws and a growly face that bares fangs along with a playful snarl. "That's just convenience coincidence." And then, with a glance in the direction Saagochque went, she adds, "probably."

Then she gives Wren an understanding look, nods her head a couple of times, and says, "that victory would taste pretty sweet, wouldn't it! You're a tougher nut to crack, aren't you?" (I forgot to mention it, but Esme's accent is pretty French.)

"Oh. Well. Oh." Mearc chuckles. "Which also probably explains why what I did at the protest caught your eye. If you know that much about us, you probably recognized that I was not just giving a speech. Right, I'll also mention to the tall lady who you finger-gunned that you're not a point of concern. Though, uh, I almost want to ask about your circumstances. I can't imagine most Fae-Touched I've met choosing this, particularly?"

"Oh... a bit, yeah," Wren admits with a grin as Esme inquires about her shell, so to speak. "Part and parcel of the job. I don't go in looking to cheat, but walk past the wrong employee and it can throw the legitimacy of the entire operation into question. So it's in my best interest to stay a tough nut."

"Oh, mm, I haven't exactly done a study on the matter, but I'm at least reasonably sure that most of us don't end up giving informed consent about becoming vampires," Esme say with a wrinkle of her nose. "I did figure you pulled a trick to make things to the way they did. It was nicely done." She glances around like she just now realized they're still in a half-done construction area with no place to sit. "Oh, you want to to come inside? Don't mind the dust. We're sort of shuffling things around." She makes some animated shuffling gestures with her hands. "You can explain to me what you want to do to one of my buildings, and how much it will cost me. I try to run a tight ship with my security, but it never hurts to make it better."

"It's interesting, you clearly have skilled contractors. The door we passed on the way in was installed in a secure manner, which is more than I can say for many buildings I've entered. But the default lock that came with it would take me...maybe twenty seconds to pick, unless you've had a locksmith out to change the pinning. It looked like the standard default for that door, which isn't the most secure option." He pauses. "But, I'm assuming this isn't the building you'll want us to demonstrate with. Wren, you got the 'sales pitch'?"

That's her cue. "Quite simply, as you are- no doubt- uniquely aware, societies such as ours can ill afford to harbor loose lips for fear of sunk ships. To extend the metaphor, once a large enough ship goes down, enough oil's out in the water that there's just no good fishing left for anybody." A bit of a stretch, but they can both relate to the concept of an area poisoned against residence if those living their know too much or have found too many of their kind in the area. "Unlike some low-risk ventures, we can't afford to MAKE mistakes before we fix them- we need to make sure we prevent them from happening in the first place. And, in the interest of protecting the information security of our societies- and making a living- Mearcstapa and I have made ourselves something of white hat hackers. He handles physical penetration- testing and compromising of actual site systems and locks. I test the social aspect, if there is one- how well the security training provided to your employees holds up under fire via targeted social engineering."

"In short," she says, winding back round to the tl;dr, "We're offering to find as many extant security threats already in place as possible and offer solutions to patch them, all without compromise of your security as would be risked by waiting for these to arise in the natural course of things."

"Oh," Emse says with a glance around. "Yeah, this place is still a work in progress. I have a handful of friends in all sorts of union trades who can help out with the work for a lot of things, and they always do solid work for me, but they're not security professionals, either."

Then she listens to the sales pitch, right up until Wren says that Mearc handles physical penetration, where she snerks and lets out a short snorting laugh, then covers her mouth with her hand and says, "sorry. I know what you mean, but..." then she waves a hand.

"Sorry. Yes. Well, for the places that I keep my eye on, the social side of the equation is usually less vulnerable by nature of there just not being very many people involved. We, uh..." she glances between them. "Consider how much trouble security involving people would be for your stereotypical Fairest socialite to talk their way through, and you have an idea of the kinds of people I have to worry about. I'm not saying there's not an element of it, but I try to keep other people largely out of the equation. I know some others who have more of that work than I do, though. And by all means, I don't mind purchasing a package deal to see if you can find problems I haven't seen. I'll be delighted if you help me cover my ass."

His freckles flare red when Esme snrks, but he's equalized again by the time it's time to talk.

"Beyond the building security, what originally led us to approach the Sakima on this matter was that many of the local vampire population seem to be lagging in terms of digital literacy and security. Using phones that haven't gotten push notifications for security updates in nearly a decade, keeping business records in a handwritten paper ledger. We weren't really originally reaching out with the intent of selling our services for the sake of making money, here, so much as offering aid in areas we recognize may be a blindspot. Not just for the governing body of the city's vampires, but for anyone who needs a non-judgmental point of contact to help with getting up to speed safely."

As Mearcstapa speaks, Wren offers proof positive of their concerns. Old phones? She offers "Saagochque." as evidence. Paper records? "Atalo. Lethia also- she's under the impression that paper is still the primary medium for artists. Though it was more the "openly chattering about using blood as an art medium while also appearing completely bloodless" that made me wonder about her enough to check for confirmation." Aside from that, Mearc's got the spiel down pat, and she lets him deliver this segment without further interruption.

"Ah, hm, yeah..." Esme looks a little chagrined, to say the least. "Some people are just stuck in their ways, and some people are not quite as subtly unsubtle as they think they are. Thank you for letting me know, and I can see if one of us can have some words with a few people." Then there's a soft laugh. "Even with Saagochque. She faces some challenges in keeping up with the changing times that the rest of us don't, necessarily."

"We...our goal isn't to get them in trouble. That's really not the point. We're offering help, uh...Wren, what's the polite phrasing we use with clients for 'cover your asses'?" He glances over at her. "Camaraderie's the bottom line, here."

"I mean, usually I'd just drop CYA and have done with it," Wren admits drolly. "And yeah, we're not here to get anyone in trouble, just-" She considers her words a moment. "... making it clear that we are good at paying attention to the sorts of things we're offering to help shore up against. If we noticed, it isn't impossible for someone less sympathetic, blah blah blah, sales pitch improved." The little Beast grins.

"I used the phrase myself already," Esme says with a laugh. "It's fine. And I understand. Really! Nobody's likely to get in trouble out of this, just urged to try to draw less attention, before the result is actual trouble that someone has to deal with. For all of you, the worry is always that something said unsubtly attracting attention from Them, but for us it's attracting the notice of the ordinary people walking down the street. No matter how good some of us try to be, as people, we're still predators who survive by feeding on them. History tells us that when they find out we're real, a lot of people end up dead among both us and them. Plenty of them innocent bystanders."

She smiles more widely and says, "illustrating both why it's good for one of my people to gently suggest to them that someone clocked them because they weren't being subtle enough, but also the need for us to take steps to ensure we're keeping things as well under wraps as we think."

Mearc nods, his smile coming easily. He doesn't make eye contact, but the force of his attention is on Esme. "So. How can we be of help to you all, directly, in the future, now that you know what we do and where we're coming from?"

Wren nods, offering quietly, "We feel like it's a bigger deal for us to protect humans from knowledge of us, more than hide from them, so we understand things even if the motivation is different on that angle. Though... I do appreciate that you're doing much the same. I did hear you mention both sides." She smiles a little, but mostly falls quiet here. Sales pitch over, usually means Mearc is gonna do some negotiating.

"Well, I think that there's some good value in making sure that someone using human tricks, with human capabilities, isn't able to get into spaces of ours that they're not supposed to, for certain," Esme says with a nod. "And, well, it's not like I'm spending my time trying to keep up with what that is, exactly. Hiring professionals to take care of things that we can't or don't want to do is pretty, you know, standard. It's not like a lot of vampires decided to, you know, turn the electrician into a vampire so that we have someone who knows how to do their work to code. Although that's an interesting thought. Hmmm."

But she shrugs. "In a strange way, the fact that you're Changelings puts you at a little bit of a disadvantage. We can keep mortals in the dark about the real reasons they're doing things, etc. But, you know, you have more finely tuned bullshit detectors, and are more likely to pick up on clues that they wouldn't. People will be more paranoid to let you close. Where I guess is where I come in, being your test subject!"

"That is the most awkward compliment I've received in a while, but we'll take it. Do you have a particular location in mind for us to take a go at?" The negotiation here is different, because it's not about the money this time. It's about getting a foot in the door with the whole vampire community.

Wren nods. "we do have a bit of a disadvantage there, yeah, but that's okay. I mean, the whole exercise is to improve your security, so any progress is good progress!"

"Awkward is my specialty. Sorry," Esme says with a laugh. "I do have a property in mind. It's one that's probably going to be fun for you, and a nightmare for me, because I'm sure that you'll find glaring problems. Which, really, is exactly why I want you to start there. I'm a grown-up, I can take it." She flashes a smile and then waves for them to follow as she turns around. "I'll go get some paperwork. We can agree on prices and so on when you've reviewed the details of the property, I imagine?"

Mearc nods as he follows Esme. "A lot of our clients say they can take it, but then start limiting the scope of the engagement. 'Oh, you can only go during these hours, and you can't lie to any of the staff, and you have to enter through the lobby'. Which sort of invalidates the test, but they are the client..."

"And it does get them the information they're telling us they want," Wren adds. "It's just usually not the information they actually think they're getting cuz they've tied out hands." She rises to come with, though her pace is necessarily faster- smaller steps, you see.

Esme leads the way through a door into a hallway that's marginally more completed, and then into another side room that has all of its walls. There's some paperwork sitting on a table in the room, from which she pulls out a folder that has giant shiny gold lettering on the side saying "FUCK OFF, I'M BUSY". She takes a seat at the table, holding the folder, and says, "before I show you all of this information, I have NDAs and the like, which due diligence requires that I have you sign, but since you already know that I know where the real power is, I'm curious if you'd be willing to Seal each other's promises not to disclose any of this information without permission from myself or the Sakima." With that request she gives them a grin that clearly says 'hey, you rarely get what you don't ask for'

He looks sidelong at Wren, deferring the decision to her, his expression almost amused by the request. Yeup, it's an interesting ask.

"I don't see why not," Wren offers. "I wasn't planning to get chatty anyhow, so that's not exactly any skin off my nose. Plus, if it's actually some sort of secret plot to kill us all, I figure a broken oath is the least of my worries, right?" She smiles up at Mearc.

"Hm, interesting." Esme looks a little surprised that they agreed, but also seems content to shrug and move on, which she then does. As she pulls a couple of sheets of paper from her folder she says, "here's the NDAs, you're free to review them. If you feel like you need to have a lawyer look over them or whatever," she waves a hand, like she kind of finds all this stuff annoying, even though she sees the necessity. "We can always come back to the details later." She puts the papers on the table. It's really a pretty concise, document, very standard, just agreeing not to disclose information about the property, so on and so forth.

Mearc takes thirty seconds to skim the document, before nodding. "I'm good to sign, and to make that promise for Wren to seal tonight, if she's also good. This is remarkably clean."

Wren spends considerably longer looking each page over, but once she's done, she hands it back, nodding. "We appreciate knowing exactly what you have in mind when it comes to our silence, Esme. Thank you."

Esme offers a couple of pens, and then says, "for the Sealed words, you can use the same language, or something more concise. This is more to satisfy me than the lawyers, so..." she shrugs.

"Hey, Wren? I'm not going to go talking about this job in specifics--including location, timing, name and nature of client or details of security discovered in the line of work--unless Saagochque or Esme tell me it's okay to. I might mention having a job, if someone asks if I'm busy when we're doing this, and if Esme's cool with me using her as a reference later, particularly with other vampires, that'd be neat. But that's only with her permission, later."

"You know, it's funny, Mearcstapa, I was thinking I'd do the same thing myself. I promise if you promise?"

Esme laughs softly and then opens the folder and starts taking out diagrams and photos and copies of blueprints for what looks like a factory. "This is the old Frankford Chocolate Factory building. The public perspective is that the owners have been trying to sell it for years, but the reality is that we own it, and use it as one of our possible meeting places. A bit like a Hollow, but not, you know," she makes a vague little gesture in the air. "Magic. It's a terrible fucking site to try to secure really well, just because it was never meant for it. A lot of it is bricked up at this point."

She sits back, gestures for them to feel free to look things over, and says, "I'd like to hire you both to detail the ways you're able to get in, all the normal things, and particularly how that goes during the day... mostly because I can't do anything to check that myself. Without. You know. Death."

Mearc leans in to look at the blueprints, his eyes lighting up. "Oh, this will be fun. I'm assuming that we're limiting this to non-destructive entry techniques, not knocking in walls or firing a cannon at doors, right?"

Wren peers over everything. "What's to stop urban explorers from waltzing in? I presume there's some sort of security on site during the day? Or does it really not matter since nobody's hanging out in daytime?"

"Well, okay," Esme starts with another laugh as she holds up a finger. "One, it's a 150 year old chocolate factory not a fucking fortress, of course you can break in with a canon." Fortunately, she seems to think this is funny, not annoying, like the idea of shooting canons at the building to see how it holds up is a fun mental image. "Two, I'd recommend that you keep your entry attempts to things that won't make the armed guards inclined to start shooting," she adds with the raising of another finger and a look at Wren, since it answers her question.

"Things are secured enough at least that urban explorers would have to pick decent locks or the like to get in, but the truth is that them getting creative is one of the concerns. We have some other properties that aren't as secure, and not regularly used, that have problems with that."

"Don't worry, I don't actually have a cannon." He grins brightly, and Wren can see his freckles turn warm. "Anyway, even if a door is well-locked, there might be methods for bypass. I'm really excited to see what you have."

"Gotcha. If there's people on site, there's ways to work around it. I'll find out how well they're trained to turn aside social engineering tactics, too."

"I will tell you that the guards know that we would really, really rather not have bodies around, or the police on site, so they will do their level best to deal with you in a friendly manner if they run into you and want to stop you," Esme feels compelled to add as a disclaimer. "They're definitely not trigger happy thugs. Please do anything that will hurt them."

She smiles at the pair. "One other request I'd make is that you limit your efforts to what a living breathing ordinary human person could achieve. We simply don't have the expectation that a angry Summer Ogre couldn't smash their way in."

"Understandable. Neither of us is much of an angry Summer Ogre, for that matter, but we'll avoid the blatant Contracts--though if everything goes completely to hell and we somehow manage to piss off the guards, we might find our way out by whatever means so we can contact you and let you know to call them off."

"Yeah, I might use a few tricks to get out of trouble, but the whole point is to test the mortal levels of security, so I have no plans to use supernatural tricks to get past the guards or anything else. Standard Operating Procedure!" Wren chirps, clearly already formulating ideas to make this work.

"All fine, yes, understandable," Esme agrees. "Do you want to take time to review all of this, and maybe drive by the site or whatever else you need, and then get back to me with a quote for the cost, or how do you usually proceed?"

"We will need time to examine the factory before we start doing entry work. Though given you want to know all the ways someone could get in, it might be a multiple-approach job." He wibbles a hand. "But even given that, we could probably quote it now."

Wren thumbs over at Mearc. He's got it down.

"Sure," Esme says, making a gesture inviting Mearc to continue. "Let me know what it will be, and I'll let you know if that's workable." She doesn't sound worried about the budget, though.

Mearc names a figure, based on a rough calculation of how many hours of work and materials he expects the job to take. And it's not the sort of price they quote for the hugest corporations, but he doesn't discount it too much, either. Esme's not worried about the money, so he's not going to insult her by charging less than the work would be worth for another client. Albeit, a client they like and want to work for again in the future.

Wren watches Esme while Mearc lays out their cost, waiting to see how she reacts to the offer presented! That can offer insight into the other party, lots of times!

"Hm, yep, that should be fine," Esme says, and then in a more formal tone she states aloud, "once I've been given access to a written report detailing your findings pertaining to the security of the Frankford Chocolate Factory, I will provide payment in the amount of," and she provides the same figure, "to an account of your designation within seven days."

Mearc does seal that, his Mantle flaring with a rustling sound, like someone being chased through a cornfield in October, his freckles shifting toward the green again.

Wren beams happily as the deal is made. "Well, then, we'll have to make sure you get that report in short order! Soon as we get a chance to do our prep work."

"I'm looking forward to this," Esme says with a smile as she stands up again. "And, maybe, just a little," she holds up her fingers, almost touching thumb and index, "a little worried that I might have just made an agreement that will get me fired for not having done a better job," she adds, mostly joking.

"Hey, hey. Here's the thing about a red-team. We're not just here to wreck you and tell you what's wrong like we're some smug bullies taking advantage of you not knowing a thing. Our report comes with detailed commentary on solutions you can implement, from the immediate 'use this piece of hardware to avoid these attacks' to long term. So even if you've made errors in the past, we're going to help you do the best job possible, in the future." He stands as well.

"That's the whole idea, after all. It's like a check-up. We find the things that are wrong and help explain how to get better!" Wren stands up... for all the difference it makes in her height. "I'm looking forward to this, too, if I'm honest."

"I know, I know," Esme says with a nod. "I'm not really worried about it. We'll just see how it goes!" She starts heading toward the door. "Let me see you both out. Wouldn't want you to get lost and fall down an oubliette or anything."