L'hologramme clignait, laissant Cense regarder l'air vide dans l'incrédulité stupéfaite. Il n'avait jamais semblé possible que quelqu'un soit plus fou que sa sœur, mais le monsieur kidnappé savait qu'il venait de voir l'image de celui qui l'était. Certes, Miranda l'a peut-être kidnappé au milieu de la nuit pour le faire « sortir plus », mais leur fou a pris pour cible des inconnus. Pour jouer à son jeu. Cense n'a pas étudié la psychologie, mais il était clair que cette dame était un psychopathe.
Respirant profondément pour se stabiliser, Cense s'est tordu le torse pour affronter son nouveau partenaire. "Désolé. À propos du cri." Cela n'a certainement pas permis une introduction en douceur, mais alors, rien ne pouvait dans une situation aussi bizarre. "Je n'avais pas réalisé que je n'étais pas seule. Est-ce que tu sais quelque chose de plus sur la façon dont je suis arrivé ici? Je ne peux que me rappeler d'être assis à mon bureau, puis de me réveiller ici." Il n'espérait pas vraiment ce jeune... homme? Une femme? Y avait-il même une façon polie de poser cette question?--Il ne s'attendait pas à ce que cette personne ait une réponse, mais peut-être qu'il...elle...zhe dirait quelque chose qui jonglerait avec ses propres pensées.
the_Servant has signed on.
"Oh hello Servant, I'm so glad you came. Let's begin the interview. What's your real name? First and last please."
“Franklin Goldman, at your service; though I ask people to call me by my middle name, Cense.”
"Ah, I see, okay how old are you?"
“Twenty-seven, as of last October.”
"Hmm...This is more personal but what's your sexuality?"
“Entirely void. I tried looking up pictures back in high school, but it felt wrong inside. Oh, unless you meant… I would marry a girl, not a dude. If I could ever meet a girl; it’s harder and harder to tell the difference on the web. If I had a nickel for every guy online that has tried to pick me up… *sigh*
"Are you a man or woman?"
 “I like to say I’m a man. I do have a sister who insists I’m still only a boy, but that’s her opinion. My opinion is that her criterion for becoming a man is perverse. Hard to believe we’re from the same household.”
"What do you look like? You can send a picture of describe yourself, though an image will help me more."
”Well, there are some more opinions thrown about on that. I’d like to think I have charming, if not especially rugged, features. My sister simply calls me effeminate. Her words sting lightly, but I decided some time ago that if low-class ruffians chose to call refinement “feminine,” I would rather accept the label than try to grow facial hair and develop a beer gut.
“I suppose a picture would be easier. Don’t mind the costume; the rare occasions I actually have a picture taken all involve my sister, and this particular one was a ludicrous party idea that I don’t wish to relive, even in memory.”

”I didn’t like to admit it when I was younger, but I really did take after my mother. The blonde hair, the raised cheek bones--even her eyes. Bless her, she always said she preferred glasses to just having a quick surgery. Somehow that stuck with me, so I keep wearing them, too. I like to think they make me look more intelligent and refined.”
"What's your occupation?"
”I work as tech support for… well, the little-heard-of sub-company called Visiowares, though that’s just a branch of the mega-corporation WaresHouse. My end is dealing with the various ocular implants and enhancements people buy and struggle to use. Rarely does it require field work, and every time it has I find myself, unsurprisingly, at the home of someone elderly who won’t give in and join a group home yet. Mr. Reasner has been half of those, the crank.”
"How would you describe your personality?"
”I? I would declare myself as intelligent and competent. There’s no ‘sense’ in trying to muscle through a problem; just think! Ah, if only I could convince everyone to be wise, I would need say nothing more. But many a man yet fails to comprehend the basics of existence, and so I try to be helpful in what small ways I can while they learn.
“I can’t claim any real athletic ability; while I’m not obese in any sense, my muscles haven’t seen any intense work in half a decade. No, I would much rather solve problems with my intellect. It’s cleaner, neater, and requires far less clean-up afterward.
“I hope that answered your question. I’m not sure what else you may be looking for, you see. I suppose I’m more spiritual than most; on Sundays when I’m not otherwise engaged, I skim for a church site to sit in on a live sermon. I don’t have much of a reason to do so, as I won’t commit to joining a flock or anything of the sort; perhaps it’s just one more of those habits I inherited from Mother. Or maybe I really do hope, deep down, that one of these times I’ll find whatever it is I’m looking for there.”
"How tall are you? How much do you weigh?"
”I am a whopping 5’ 9” and 150, and I feel like a giant with it… because it’s more than my sister, and the only other person I see on even a semi-frequent basis is Mr. Reasner. I know I’m short—well, small in general—for a man. I just try to keep that in perspecitve: I’m still taller than Miranda.”
"What's your favorite color?"
”Odd question; I suppose I would pick a nice cyan. Something cool and healing.”
"What type of person interests you romantically?"
”Well, I can talk about a nice smile or being kind to others, but I think what I want most is to find someone who will challenge me intellectually. If I ever find a woman capable of stunning my sister into silence using only her words, I’ll propose on the spot. Really, the mind is so much more important than the body! If a girl’s only means of attracting a man is flaunting her body, I’ll kindly stay away so I’m not tempted to state clearly what I actually think of that.”
"This question can be skipped, but it's most essential to my study so I'd prefer an honest answer. Know that you're in a safe place here with me, no one else will ever have to know. Do you have any physical/mental disabilities? Any traumas?"
”Ummm… None that come to mind. I could name some bad experiences—I had to grow up with Miranda, after all—but I can’t call it trauma.”
"What gaming genre do you prefer to play when feeding your addiction?"
”Unequivocally, I play strategy games. I have a pair of city-builder games I keep an eye on, but my favorites are the heavy titles in turn-based strategy. Sid Meier is a veritable legend in my mind; also, at one point I started learning German because they’ve always been so much better at making good games.”
"Share some of your history with me."
”Well, I’m an average Joe as far as I can tell. I’m the second of two kids, born into a middle-class family to humble parents who could only afford to give me an eight-inch handheld for my third birthday. I was cursed with an overactive sister who craves physical touch and social interaction, so I didn’t get to spend half as much time alone on a screen when I was young as the other kids my age. It was so bad, at one point I actually ran away from home. It wasn’t because of my parents or unfulfilled dreams; I just couldn’t survive being around my sister any longer. All the pokes, the nudges, the grabbing-me-by-surprise—it was too much!
“That was an interesting time, though. That was the first time I spoke with a girl who wasn’t my sister. She was much more shy. Much more kind. Much more lady-like in every way, now that I think back on it. I ran into a girl who was outside playing in the dirt. I had to ask three times what she was doing because I couldn’t understand it. But she invited me to play, too, so I did. It was weird. I never made a habit of that.
“Anyway, it gave me enough courage to go back home. Mom was in tears when I finally came back; those three hours were the longest I had ever been outside the house. I had to explain what I had done, so I told them I had lost a ball out the window and was trying to find it. It was a weak excuse (Miranda didn’t believe it for a second), but at least life went on as normal after that. I went through schooling online, only going to a physical building to test. I made it through the local college that way, too, earning an easy degree in IT because I knew I would always be able to find work with that.”
"Your strengths?"
”I’m definitely brain over brawn. Give me a puzzle, a riddle, a problem to solve. If a situation needs some refinement, or perhaps just some simple etiquette, I’m your man. This may also be a good time to mention my dry wit. I count it a strength as it irritates my dear sister so.”
"Your fears and weaknesses?"
”I suppose I fear a lonely future. My work has brought me into contact with many old people, so I’ve spent some time pondering what I want to be like when I’m old. Above all else, I don’t want to be like Mr. Reasner. I also have a healthy—I might even say life-saving—fear of any of my sister’s “good ideas.” And, as I’ve mentioned, I’m not good at most anything physical. My body simply isn’t trained for it.”
"What role do you play in your games?"
”I’m a master, an overlord, a king of AIs. In those situations where I’m working with a group instead of competing against other players, I step to the side and take the role of strategist and tactician. I don’t want the headache of trying to lead people who won’t follow.”
"What do you hope to gain by participating in my game?"
”For one, I want to satisfy my curiosity as to what all this is about. For two… let’s just say I have a feeling life can’t get boring when you’re involved. Is that a fair assessment? I don’t need money (though I’d probably take it if you offered). I have food, shelter, and clothing. What I need is something a little more transcendent than physical needs. I need Life. Can you give me more Life than do my games?”
"Is there anything I missed?"
”Yeah, how about some more instructions? Do I need to start going somewhere at a certain time, or perform some other mysterious action? And, if you don’t mind my asking, what is your real name?”
…
*thump*