Chương 16: Reciprocation

Martin and Shrike's new relationship faced a lot of hurdles. Sleeping in the same place was functionally impossible. Shrike was simply too hot for Martin to comfortably fall asleep next to, and she disliked the sensation of sinking in the overly soft bed. Kissing was a foreign concept to Shrike, and she seemed to find it uncomfortable even after being introduced to the concept. Martin had a lot of difficulty in conveying emotional needs to the very pragmatic Shrike. And yet, somehow, they made it work.

Sleeping next to each other didn't work well, until they had a bed designed specifically for them through one of Fennel's contacts: half of it was soft and slightly refrigerated, the other firm and heated. Coupled with heated blankets for Shrike and a fan on Martin's side, they made it work, even with a fairly awkward expense of several thousand dollars to bill MBR for, labelled only as "required magical beast housing materials."

Shrike, it turned out, very much enjoyed being kissed, and was simply uncomfortable by the idea of reciprocating it. It was enough for Martin, and ideal for her. Martin had a long talk with Shrike about his difficulty in opening up to her about his human wants, even things like spending more time with her were difficult to express. Shrike, in her unique wisdom, reminded him that she was incapable of being judgmental, since she was unaware of what was considered strange.

Still, she made a short list on her phone, a checklist for her to refer back to occasionally. A little overly clinical, maybe, but it worked. Their time spent together was made even easier by the eventual delivery of the Seamster's outfits. Not only did they stay cool on the surface, they were absolutely stunning. They fit perfectly, and even better, two of them were designed to be inconspicuous.

The first was simple seeming blue jeans and black long sleeved shirt with a thin black and white jacket, the heating elements carefully made to run along the outside of the shirt while remaining invisible when the jacket was added. It looked entirely normal. The second was a more formal one: dark silk pants and socks with shoes that hinted at being heels without actually impairing movement, and a white and gray top that was only slightly flowing.

Not so formal as to look odd in public, not so casual that it wouldn't fit in at a black tie event. The third was the most complex, and designed to be seen. It blended practical measures like reinforced joints and A9-cut resistant neck guards with subtle details like an abstract feather motif of the heated padding along the chest and sides. Every part of it was colored in grays, whites, and blacks to resemble the loggerhead shrike she got her name from.

To sell the effect, the thin rows of distributed batteries along her back were hidden with another abstract feather design, mimicking an upraised tail. All three boast a long battery life, while the third in particular lasts nearly 18 hours without needing a charge. Completely beautiful, completely practical. Just like her, Martin thinks. -"Martin, would you be interested in hearing something amusing?" Shrike asks, sitting on the couch next to him, watching a movie she doesn't quite understand the plot of.

"I always am." He looks to his left. She's so effortlessly captivating. Always so observant, even when relaxed.

"Hold your ear to my heart." She reaches out and gently cradles his head, positioning his ear against her chest. Martin takes a few deep breaths to not get too nervous and spoil the moment.

"Now, confess your love for me."

"Alright." Is she trying to give him a heart attack?

"I love you, Shrike." Like magic, her heart goes from a relatively calm 200 beats per minute to a frantic 300. A goofy smile spreads across his face.

"That's ridiculous. You're faking it."

"I have no more control over my heart rate than you do. You will have to accept this as a physiological process you instill within me." She's so romantic, he thinks. Once you realize what she's saying, and what she isn't, it's pretty obvious what she means. A unique mind, but one he's getting the hang of. Shrike wonders if she is being too cryptic with her shows of affection. Fast heart rate correlates with numerous emotions.

Primarily, heart rate is correlated to increased blood flow, which is the same process as blushing, which is a signal of infatuation. Is that well-understood by Martin? He seems to be enjoying it. She assumes he at least understands the intent. The doorbell rings, startling them both. He quickly gets up and neatens his hair. He checks Shrike. She's in one of her three new outfits.

They all look incredible on her, but the combat-focused one she is wearing now is astoundingly beautiful, and her favorite due entirely to the expanded battery life. He opens the door to Ferret and Moth standing patiently.

"Hey, thanks for coming!" Martin says.

"I know it's a boring dinner party, but we really appreciate it." Ferret holds up a bottle of wine.

"Moth told me this is good. I don't drink, but I can promise you she drinks." Moth laughs, swiping the bottle and giving it to Martin herself.

"I picked it out, so I get to give it to him." A woman and her 'dog' appear as well, coming from a parked minivan.

"Oh, the others just got here too! I told you about Possum and Opossum, right guys?" Martin asks, waving the two over. Ferret nods while turning.

"You mentioned th-whatthehellisthat?!" Opie's bizarre appearance makes Ferret backpedal into the doorframe, as the hoar hound inspects Ferret with its needle-like siphon. The creature looks up at Ferret with its internal eyestalks, needily seeking attention from the new face. Ferret grimaces, reaching down to pet him, and accidentally poking him in the eye. Instead of recoiling, the strange creature seemed unbothered. As a test, he holds out his hand, and Opie pushes his oddly dry eyes into it. Okay...

maybe its a little cute, in a hairless cat kind of way. Maybe. -"Uhh..." Moth asks, "Is Opie supposed to be eating lightbulbs?"

"Yeah, he's been a good boy." Possum pets him on the head as he stabs his beak into another bulb, drinking the gas within. Martin abruptly stands up at dinner.

"I have an announcement. The reason I invited you all here."

"You're converting?" Moth asks, making Ferret choke on his water in a laugh.

"No. God, no. Okay..." Martin looks for the right words. Martin has shown difficulty before with public speaking, Shrike thinks. An equal relationship means both parties are allowed to express the same things.

"We have entered a romantic relationship," Shrike notes, straight faced and still seated. Ferret smirks at Moth, who rolls her eyes as she digs in her pocket for a twenty to give him.

"Okay. So what's the deal here? Something bad happen?" Martin slowly sits back down.

"No... it's been good, actually."

"This could have been a text..." Moth catches an elbow from Ferret, and takes it without a sound.

"Sorry. I'm very happy for you both. Hope you two are happy." Possum looks at them in confusion.

"I honestly thought you two would have gotten together sooner. I mean, I merged minds with Shrike back with the Nemean Lion, and... never mind. Glad you both figured it out." Martin looks to Ferret with a pained look. Ferret just shrugs.

"Writing's been on the wall forever, and I can put a two-piece jigsaw puzzle together. You're a source of heat, she likes heat." The flustered hunter leans down, head in his hands.

"I really thought this would be a bigger deal.

'Hey friends who we hunt magical beasts with, guess who's in love with a magical beast!'" Ferret snorts.

"If you want, I can pretend to be disgusted. I think I speak for all of us when I say this is probably the least surprising thing we've heard today." Martin groans, and Shrike gently rubs him on the back.

"More importantly," Moth adds, "Look at that incredible outfit. Where in the god damn did you get that, Shrike?" - Ximena nods slowly in her office. She's lovingly decorated it with paintings she's found at yard sales and thrift stores from all over the state, and they take up more wall space than the wall itself, tiled in specific frame sizes that give the impression of a brick wall.

Currently in front of her, there is Shrike, the extremely dangerous and impossible to read kynde, and Martin, the highly knowledgeable and competent beast hunter. Saying they're in love.

"I mean... you don't have to fill out a form or anything. Shrike, you're okay with this?"

"I am the one who proposed the arrangement. It was a natural evolution of our formerly platonic relationship." She sits in a formal way on the folding chair. Ximena nods slowly.

"Martin..?"

"She beat me to the punch by about sixty seconds." He smiles, tenderly kissing the kynde on the forehead, making her blush lightly. Ximena shuts her eyes for a moment to think, reaching for the Advil in her desk. It's going to be a long day. -"Hey, love, we have a new mission." Martin hangs up his phone, walking into the living room and seeing her nesting by the fire. Despite the new bed, she still prefers to be in her old spot when alone.

"Our first duo job in a while." She raises her head up, obviously happy to be awoken by him. Was she hiding her joy the whole time, or is it new?

"I am glad. As much as I appreciate the company, I find we are most efficient on our own."

"Yeah, plus it means you've been cleared in full. This one might be tough. A classic Romanian-style vampire, holed up somewhere downtown. I hate to ask, but would you mind being bait? Bastard is targeting exclusively women, and magical creatures can't catch vampirism." He feels awkward asking, for at least three different reasons he can pinpoint. He knows Shrike, though. She isn't going to be put off by any of them.

"It is no issue. I am also intrigued to know if a vampire's traditional aversion to sunlight would be affected by my projected light."

"Exactly my point," Martin confirms, having not even considered it.

"Got something on the scope, Shrike. There's a bat flying around the park, following you." He is perched on a rooftop with a long-range rifle, green night vision trailing the bat.

"I understand," she quietly replies into his earpiece.

"I am not emitting any light in case it can sense it. Is there any method for me to appear as an easier target?"

"Take out your phone, and fake an argument about not being picked up by a friend. Try and sound human."

"I understand." He watches as she does so, convincingly faking distress and irritation. Not a bad showing, honestly. She's turned into a very good liar lately. He watches the bat turn into a fog, slowly creeping near her.

"Get ready. It's right behind you." Shrike nods, turning around while feigning hanging up the phone in annoyance. She sees a patch of fog near her as she paces back and forth. Slowly, it congeals into a human form, dashing behind her with superhuman speed.

"You are out quite late, little mouse."

"Wh... what?" She says, trying to sound scared. Martin monitors her movements. The signal for actual distress is brushing a hair away, or rapid blinking.

"Yes... you will make a fine meal for my master, but I think I'll have just a taste before I turn you over. You can keep a secret, little mouse, can't you?" Martin groans loudly over the earpiece.

"Damn it, just a spawn. I have a bead on it if your light doesn't do the job." This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Shrike stays completely still, blinking normally. What's she planning? The vampire spawn pulls her collar back, and sinks its fangs into her neck, before immediately staggering back and gagging, breaking the ominous cadence it was using.

"What the hell was that!?" Shrike sighs, locking the monster away in cube of light.

"I was hoping you would not notice, and would take me to your master. Unfortunate." The vampire laughs, slipping back into its mask of confidence.

"Fool. Your mortal magic cannot contain me." It slams an open palm forcefully against the barrier, then screams while retracting its burning hand. Shrike watches the spawn's pain without a reaction.

"You claim I am mortal? I was slaying great stone age beasts before the banal disease of vampirism ever arose, the discarded bones of my meals long since turned to stone across the millennia. I witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations forgotten even to myself. My daily eating utensils sit in museums across the world, artifacts displaced in time, mislabelled as stone tools constructed by human hands.

I have consumed the beating hearts of the first foreigners to step on this land, and found them lacking in substance. And now I am here. Your master may be ancient, but I am beyond time. Look into my eyes if you wish to claim deception. See the infinity contained within." She leans against the barrier, eyes widened, a neutral expression across her face. The spawn tries to step away, but has nowhere to press its back against.

"You are fortunate," she continues, "as you have something I wish to consume. A true vampire. A rare delicacy to this land, one I wish to taste again. I am beyond your plebeian hunger, but there is no greater thrill than the sublimation of the exotic beneath my tongue. You will guide me to it, or you will witness what predation truly means." She dismisses the barrier.

"You will remain in this form. Now walk, until we reach the next event in my endless chain." The spawn does so, taking slow, quaking steps. He leads her to a storm door attached to a bakery, and after knocking in a simple rhythm, another of the spawn opens the door. Shrike wordlessly sends out two beams of light, which disintegrate both the spawn who took her there and the one who opened the door without a second's hesitation.

"Martin, I have reached their lair. Have you kept up?"

"Yeah, I have. An entire vampire nest isn't something we're fully prepared for, though."

"I require no preparations, and I will be swift, without theatrics."

"Alright... keep two layers of barriers up, though. They are deceptively strong and fast, and might break through before they realize they're in pain." She confirms it, entering into the basement. After around five minutes, she leaves, as casually as she entered.

"There were two more spawn and the true vampire within. Despite my first barrier being shattered, it was routine. Thank you for your suggestion of a second barrier." Martin laughs over the earpiece.

"Yeah, yeah, brag about how easy it is for you. Hey, vampire ashes can be used in a couple of my tools. You mind grabbing them?"

"I did not bring a container, but I will scavenge one from the bakery." Shrike sits in the back of the Jeep with a donut box filled with cremated vampire remains.

"I find humor in this situation, but cannot articulate a joke around it." Martin thinks as their usual 'Compromise' playlist fills the silence.

"How about... ashes to ashes, crust to crust? No, wait, how about... there is no cruller fate? Like crueler?" Shrike vigorously nods while smiling.

"Your wit is astoundingly sharp."

"Lots of practice. Also, very intimidating speech back there. Were you practicing that?"

"Indeed. Fortunately the spawn did not seem aware two-thirds of it were fabricated or exaggerated. I expect the slaying of a nest of two star vampire spawn and a four star vampire will gain me some kind of reward?" She smiles, saccharine eyes looking into the rear view mirror.

"Shrike, you already have my bank account information and a debit card. You don't need to ask me for things. Just get them."

"It is not something purchased. It is a shared activity. One I find pleasurable. Something we may share into the night..."

"Fine. Two documentaries. I can't take another twelve hour binge of David Attenborough talking about mushrooms." -"Another so soon?" Shrike asks, gulping down a toasted bagel. As far as Martin knows, she barely bothers to chew her food.

"Mhmm. Four days is a short turnaround, but they're really pressed for competent people, and we're unfortunately competent. So the details were scarce, but apparently this is a..." Martin slides in close for dramatic effect.

"Haunted mansion." Shrike's eyes lock on to him as she stops mid-bite of her breakfast.

"Haunted as in... ghosts?"

"Most likely, yeah." She puts the bagel down carefully.

"I had believed ghosts were outside our field."

"They usually are, but you know. Staffing shortages. They really need to start hiring people..." Martin hears Shrike's legs rubbing against each other beneath the table as she speaks.

"I do not believe I am suited for the task... perhaps we should pass on this one and accept the reputation damage, or swap for another task with someone facing a more dangerous beast?" Once he realizes what is happening, he has to forcibly hide a smile.

"Shrike. Are you scared of ghosts?"

"Yes," she asserts plainly.

"They are beyond my influence. I cannot simply kill them if required. A fear of a malicious entity I cannot detect or eliminate is justifiable. I do not know how they may affect me, either." Her eyes flick around the room, as if the discussion alone would summon them. Martin manages to restrain his instinct to tease her.

"Well, I'm not able to easily kill most of the things we fight. I just have to work through the fear."

"Do you possess some type of countermeasure for ghosts? If so, I would greatly appreciate you being this mission's spearpoint..." He moves around the table next to her, and easily scoops her up as she sharply yelps in surprise. That was the most adorable noise... He sits down on the chair she was using, placing her on his lap.

"Don't worry, love. I'll keep you safe. I promise." He confidently smiles up at Shrike's attentive, fixed eyes. Shrike wonders if this is what Martin feels like when she acts protectively. She hopes so. Him taking the lead while still addressing her as an equal is a very welcome feeling, as opposed to the neurotic worrying he used to do. She leans in to Martin's face, disjointedly, and does her best to mimic the motion he uses. She kisses his mouth softly, briefly, and chaste.

She still does not understand the joy in doing to, but Martin's expression makes the gesture feel worthy of her brief discomfort.

"I... apologize if that was incorrect. I should clarify it was not intended to set a precedent, but it felt correct in the moment. It still does not come-" She is yanked again, this time into a powerful hug.

"It was perfect, Shrike. Absolutely perfect."

"Welcome to the Bullhead Manor." The butler says over the gate's intercom, as the wrought-iron gate slowly squeals opens against the backdrop of light rain. Martin sighs as he pulls into the massive circular driveway, parking just outside before taking out a few boxes of equipment. He carefully sets them atop a barrier Shrike created.

"Please be careful with this stuff," he says, watching as Shrike piles on thousands of dollars in equipment.

"It's not mine." Shrike slowly moves the platform forward. There is very little traction to her platforms, but by tilting the wall of projected light by a couple degrees, the equipment stays in place through gravity as she carefully moves it. Martin claps slowly, impressed.

"I'll be damned, that actually worked. Since when can you move your projections with that much precision?"

"I have been practicing. I believe it to be yet another boon of my adaptation." She sends the barrier through the open front door, slowly resting it on a large rug in the foyer before dismissing it.

"This action warrants praise over surprise, Martin." He snorts.

"Yeah, yeah. It really is incredible, though. I'm very proud of you." She smiles in satisfaction, as an older man in a red smoking jacket descends down the grand staircase, wielding a cane whose golden handle is shaped like a bull's head.

"Greetings, detectives. I am Charles Brack, and it is my pleasure to welcome you into my home. Please avail yourself of the amenities, as the paranormal does not appear until the fall of night." Shrike curiously shines a small beam of light at the man, causing him to move his head in irritation.

"What are you doing?" he asks, squinting a bit as the light reaches his eyes.

"I apologize. I was unsure if you were a vampire," Shrike explains. Despite Martin's mortification, the man laughs.

"I am not, my dear. You are quite enthusiastic with your work. Well suited for exorcising these loathsome spirits from my home, I hope. Now, Martin, was it?" He nods after a short glare to Shrike.

"Yep. Three-star magical beast hunter, this is my partner Shrike. She's not human, so please forgive her eccentricities." He raises an eyebrow.

"Partnered with a beast? Intriguing."

"Yes, in both the professional and romantic definitions of partner," Shrike adds with a calm expression. Martin pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Shrike, this is my fault for not explaining it, but please try and keep our relationship under the table with civilians."

"I understand. I was unaware it was a clandestine affair."

"I wish it wasn't, but a lot of people have a lot of bad preconceptions about this kind of thing. I'll explain more later." He turns back to Charles.

"It's all above board, but if you want to submit a complaint-""Nonsense. I too have... unusual proclivities. Who am I to stand in between young love?"

"I am approximately thirteen thousand years old." Shrike adds.

"Shrike. For God's sake." She frowns, ducking her head a bit.

"Yes, of course. I apologize." Bullhead watches the two, before pointing around the mansion with his cane, explaining the layout and points of interest. A pool, a billiards room, an indoor theater, a small art museum, an private sauna, and so on. He leaves up the stairs, giving one last fleeting glance between the detectives. Shrike, still lowering her head, looks up with her eyes.

"Martin."

"If this is about the private sauna-""No, I do not intend to be intoxicated while working." Her gaze drops to the floor.

"Martin. I would like to apologize. I believe I speak out of turn when nervous, and nervousness is not a feeling I have dealt with often. I shall make a concentrated effort to conceal our relationship, to prevent future embarrassment or disconcertion." Martin looks at her expression as she speaks. She's being completely honest, without realizing the subtext.

"Shrike, I'm not embarrassed of you. I love you. I wish I could shout it from the rooftops, but most people are... less understanding. They see it as something perverse. Like... borderline bestiality. It's obviously ridiculous, but still, we have to work with a lot of people in our jobs, and the less they know the more we can focus on our work instead of defending ourselves." Shrike lifts her head with resolve.

"I understand. We are doing something seen as immoral by people who we require the trust of. This is a simple deception."

"I'm glad you get it. It sucks, but there's not much we can do." He sighs, opening up the containers of gear.

"I'll start setting up cameras, you want to set up the selenite?" Martin and Shrike wait patiently outside the house after setting everything up. He checks the time. 9pm, officially night. He and Shrike go inside the building. Immediately, a rock is pelted at Martin, which Shrike deflects with a barrier.

"Guess we know they're actually here." Martin jokes, checking his tracker. It was sealed by an actual ghost hunter to be immune to the usual battery drain trick ghosts love to use, like the rest of the equipment.

"Okay... movement in rooms 1, 2, 3, 13, 14, and 66. Pretty sure that means three of the spirits." Another rock gets thrown at him, and deflected.

"I'm talking to whoever is throwing rocks! You're an asshole!" he shouts.

"So we have one that can interact with rocks. I'm going to exorcise that one first. I brought Christian, Jewish, and atheist kits. Hopefully our ghost isn't a Buddhist."

"Are they not pre-colonial?"

"Nope. Recently reported, and they're messing with the house itself instead of just the general area. Classic tragic death haunting. Anyway, a few of the methods I'm going to be using are probably unpleasant for you too. Purified salt misting, certain dismissal magic, that kind of thing."

"You practice dismissal magic? I was unaware." He doesn't have to tell her about the tool Stolatz gave him, right?

"Nope, I just know certain ceremonies that harness magic. Speaking of, hand me that crucifix?" As Martin starts a ceremony, Shrike leaves the main room, though she isn't sure why. She stands still in a side room, back turned to the ritual Martin is performing. She doesn't feel uncomfortable, just... cordially unwelcome. Like the back room of a grocery store with an 'employees only' sign. Her eyes stay glued to the motion detector, as she ignores the sensation of trespassing.

The room immediately next to her repeatedly light up. She shudders. Can ghosts go through walls, or is that myth? She should have done more research... The movement fades, as she stays frozen in place. Then the room she is in has activity, despite her being perfectly still. She tries to maintain her calm. It's just a ghost. It can't hurt you. It can only throw things that you can block, or try to scare you. She feels something crawling against her ankle. Stay calm, she thinks. Don't panic.

She starts scattering some kind of dust she was told would help cast the ghost out. It yanks on the bag, which she takes as sign of it working.

"Working for a murderer." A voice says behind her. Stay calm...

"He killed me. Now he wants to dispose of me." Shrike's breath shakes.

"Save me. Save me, you bitch." She dumps the entire bag of dust onto the ground, heart pounding, a freezing sensation climbing from her fingers inward. It gently pulls on her skin, before stopping.

"Not human. Monster. Kill the human. Kill all the humans." Don't talk directly to them if they're not trying to physically hurt you. Rule number one. She takes a few deep breaths, until she feels Martin's ceremony fade away.

"Shrike, got anything?" He asks. She points at all the dust on the ground.

"Damn. You only needed to use a pinch or two." He comes over and stands next to her.

"Any activity?"

"It said that it was murdered by the owner." She says, eyes still glued to the panel of lights. He sighs.

"They all say that. Okay, stand outside, I'm gonna start spraying." The second ghost was surprisingly easy, too. All Martin had to do was politely explain that they had died, and they were haunting the building. The ghost left without a word after, much to Shrike's relief. The room 66 ghost was last. It's a large kitchen connected to room 67, a ballroom. It's all the typical industrial kitchen affairs: stainless steel shelves, no-slip mats, the works.

Shrike walks in after Martin, looking around the brightly lit room. The previous ghost had calmed her down somewhat, but her nerves quickly return at seeing so many shadows on the wall.

"Martin, should I wait outside again?"" Martin." Martin clumsily turns around, one plodding foot step after another." I am Martin." Shrike uncomfortably folds her arms.

"This is not amusing. This is distressing."

"Yes. Distress."

'Martin' says, maliciously grinning." Martin is in distress." Shrike's heart pounds. Possession. He mentioned it offhandedly once. Shrike takes a slow deep breath, remembering what Martin said before they left.

'I'll keep you safe, I promise.' Her heart begins to slow its pace. Martin is as reliable as the sun, she thinks. He wouldn't say that without meaning it.

"Why are you possessing my partner?" She asks, curious, fear largely gone.

"I walk again. Revenge."

"Would I be a better target of possession?" She summons a small pyramid of light in her hand.

"Not host."

"I understand. I assume revenge. Against whom?"" World." Shrike looks around, and offers 'Martin' a kitchen knife.

"Very well. You may begin with me." Martin's possessed body jerks forward, yanking the knife. It raises it in spurts, holding it aloft. Shrike watches with intrigue, but not fear. The knife falls to the ground, and Martin suddenly gasps, stepping back, and quickly grabbing a bag from his belt. Within seconds, he's poured a circle around himself in consecrated salt. Shrike smiles.

"Hello, Martin." He grunts, sweating, before he starts a short ritual. A strange black puff of smoke bursts outward from just outside the circle. He wipes sweat from his forehead, exhausted.

"Shrike..."

"Yes, Martin?"

"Why did you try to get stabbed..? I barely managed to rip control back from the demon. An actual demon, too, not a ghost. You have no idea how hard that was..."

"You promised you would keep me safe before this mission. I had no reason to quaver." Martin shares a tired smile with Shrike. He needs to be more careful with his statements.

"Yeah, I guess not. I get a reward for banishing two ghosts and a demon, right?"

"That seems appropriate." Martin smiles sinisterly. Finally, he can get her right where he wants her. Shrike looks dispassionately at Martin, his eyes glued to the television screen.

"I do not understand. Where did the man in the brown robe go? Why would he leave his clothing behind?"

"He was killed by the guy in black armor. It's symbolic."

"Perhaps he should have worn heavy armor as his foe did to prevent being slain."

"No, see, he wanted to be killed so he could come back as a ghost to help the farm boy."

"Why would becoming a ghost aid in that endeavor? Do they not have cellular phones in this far away galaxy? Would he not be exorcised?"

"Just watch the movie, Shrike."