"You do live a weird life and run headfirst at top speed at anything strange. But how many of them are, you know. Communicative. Reasonable. Capable of rational thought and cooperation. That sorta thing?"

"Not... very many," he agrees. "So, what, you want to hang out in hopes that we'll run into your old boss due to my luck and/or reckless tendencies and then you'll be able to kill him when we do?"

"And also you're cool and I like you! But, yeah, pretty much."

"And you ran into us entirely by coincidence."

"... no??? You drove by to pick me up??? Is your head working right, bud."

"You were within visual distance of the way we were going when we were going there entirely by coincidence. Which is generally a lot more plausible than otherwise but you are a good enough tracker to track people who don't leave tracks in the desert."

"In.... a car that moves faster than me... from a completely different direction than I was coming from...? How would that...? No, man, I wasn't tracking you. Kinda flattered that you think I could? But it's not literal magic. Are you worried that I'm here to assassinate you or whatever, because I don't think I could."

He cracks a smile. "Who knows what Conrad has managed to cook up. But no I didn't particularly think it was likely, just..." Shrug. "Trying to be paranoid."

"Yeah. I get it. It's cool. But no, when I said I'm not your enemy, I meant it. Also man I do not want to be. I'd really hate to see what you'd be like pissed off, you are a scary motherfucker." Then she snorts. "Or I guess not, I'm not allowed to call her mom, am I."

He splutters. "We are not fucking."

"Whatever you say, man. I'm going to take that shower, if they charge me for it then I guess I owe your not-girlfriend an apology."

"Enjoy your shower."

"Yep! Thanks."

It's not a long shower, but!!! But!!! IT HAD HOT WATER. ZASH. ZASH DID YOU KNOW THAT HOT SHOWERS ARE A THING???? THEY'RE A THING!!!!!

...yes he did know that was a thing that assassin's cult was skimping hard huh?

"There might have been hot showers for doctor asshole, but yeah, no. It was, like, cell for the experiment when I wasn't being used, with a bucket and a faucet, or out in the field doing the murders, so."

There's a bed available! Not even the biggest bed available, which looks like it's probably for their nerd princess. She flops onto it.

That's about when there's a ding and a very tired looking nerd princess shows up.

"Uuuuuughhhhhhhh," she enunciates, eloquently, making her way to the nearest flat and soft surface and flopping onto it face first.

Zash would pet her but he's still grimy and disgusting. Instead he sends her a psychic wave of the relevant feeling.

...he can't do it from here so he does walk up to her to do that. There. She can feel emotionally petted.

"Thanks," she mumbles, muffled by the couch's cushions. "Ugh. I mean it went better than I was expecting? Granted my soul has been stolen from me via careful application of signed forms but. I might actually make money off of this travesty, somehow. Which just makes me feel like a piece of shit, really."

"Hey piece of shit, can I order room service??"

"No, it's a ripoff, they will bleed us dry with it if we give them any kind of opening. I'll... get you a stipend, how about, and an account, and just let you sort yourself out."

"I get to be paid to guard you? Score!"

She snorts, but doesn't say anything, instead remaining faceplanted onto the couch. She hates it here. She hates it here so much. There is a reason she turned down this job and it's not just because it's awful and horrible to its plant.

Yeah. Psychic headpats. "I feel like we did not think this 'look grimy and disgusting as your disguise' plan through very well."

She turns her head to look at him and give him a smile. "No, I suppose we didn't, did we. Now we're stuck with the consequences of our decisions."

"Or maybe not! Can we buy paint without being drained dry by parasites? Vernon here wants to repaint his arm because for some reason he didn't like my paintjob."