“Not sure how long you’ve been waiting, Mr. Banes, if I may?” Mr. Banes nodded stiffly. “So thank you for your patience while I got things sorted on my end. Also, please, help yourself to some coffee. Wasn’t sure how you take it, so I brought a myriad,” Ash explained, putting the coffee and fixings within reach of Mr. Banes’ grasp.

But all Mr. Banes did was stare at the steaming paper cup and sugar and dairy packets. Just as Ash was about to speak up, the man mumbled, “No one was supposed to be down there.”

And Gene thought this man was a cold blooded Super-killer?

“Why don’t you tell me why my colleagues are referring to you as LOTO, or, what did Gene say?” Asher raised his voice so whoever reviewed the audio would know Ash was being a shitheel, per usual. “Why go by the name ‘Lockout’?”

“…my name is Michael,” Mr. Banes said, brow furrowed. To his credit, he was only confused a moment more before he was clearly exasperated with the situation. “LOTO. So you mean, lock out, tag out?” He spoke as if he was talking to a child, carefully and mindfully. His tone didn’t bother Asher none, considering Mr. Banes had likely explained the concept to those outside a dozen times to no avail. “Hey man, that’s just a safety procedure we follow so no one gets hurt,” Mr. Banes continued, but stopped when Asher held up a hand.

“I’m familiar with the human need for workplace regulatory standards, believe-you-me, Mr. Banes,” Asher explained.

If Asher was more like Rapport, he imagined the relief that Mr. Banes was letting roll across his shoulders would have been brightly visible as an aura. “You get it,” he sighed. Then seemed to find a renewed bout of energy that cracked his stoic demeanor. “So why did no one else here get that?”

Asher couldn’t help himself and chuckled darkly. “You expected a group where half the people part of it have ‘industrial accident’ in their tragic backstories to comprehend the severity of not following safety regs?” Nevermind the other half were causing such accidents on a near daily basis. It was nice, Ash realized the cause of his good mood despite the circumstances, that the tables had been turned on Them for once.

“Well… Then yeah, doubly so in fact,” Mr. Banes replied in earnest.

“Yet here we are,” Asher said, more so into his coffee than to Mr. Banes. “So, your super name is not ‘Lockout’ and, as far as you are aware, you possess no superpowers, Mr. Banes?”

“I mean, I make a mean—” Mr. Banes glanced at the wall Asher had suddenly appeared through and swallowed whatever he was about to say. Ash, meanwhile, quite wish he hadn’t. The joke would have humanized the man. Well. At least to the more reasonable crowd who hadn’t lost touch with mankind just yet.

Then again, the more reasonable crowd had already called him in.

“No. I’m just some guy. I work for P&E. Have for over a decade. I pay taxes,” Mr. Banes’ concluded, bringing his stoic nature back in the process.

“Why don’t you go through how the day went, from your perspective, starting from the beginning,” Asher suggested, moving down through a mental checklist of questions and queries he had to get through, for formality’s sake. The banal nature of this being a workplace accident was making Asher feel more at ease with his civilian sector persona.

Mr. Banes took Asher through a perfectly normal and reasonable work day for someone working at a manufacturing plant. The location of which, unfortunately for Michael Banes, had been the most recent target for one of Calamity Jim’s heinous plots to sow calamity. Work on Silo 1—which Asher had stopped to clarify for the record was where hazardous but necessary manufacturing materials were housed for safekeeping before refinement—had been scheduled for over a week, so everyone who was working on-site had been made aware.

Before Mr. Banes descended to inspect and begin work on the silo, it and the compartments beneath had been checked and cleared of all personnel and materials. This, Asher pointed out to the record, was verified by three people: Mr. Banes himself, Mr. Banes’ work partner, and the supervisor overseeing the work on Silo 1.

That was when Mr. Banes had initiated the lockout of the system, so no one else could fire up the silo while he was inside it. And, to the plant’s credit, no one had fired up the system until Mr. Banes—who had been the one to tag it—lifted the lockout himself.

It was at some point between then and Mr. Banes concluding the work by firing the silo back up into operation, Calamity Jim and Sandpoint had dueled their way into the compartments underneath. “So,” Mr. Banes concluded somberly, “I killed them.”

Asher sighed. “Well yes, at least one of them, anyways.” Was it his imagination that the left side of his face was heating up? So touchy if not shown proper reverence.

“…am I going to need a lawyer?” Mr. Banes’ voice wavered slightly.