Quoted By:
"Um," you say. "Yes, but... whenever you ask things like that, the answer is 'no,' so no. Wait, so it's not— so I wouldn't know what you were, really? At all?"
"Don't feel bad about it, primrose. Nobody would. We're... before your time." He shifts back in his chair. Is he uncomfortable? "That's too much to say already, I expect. I suggest you keep on with 'snake.' It's much simpler, and not untrue."
"But—"
"That's the last I'll speak on it."
You scowl and slump back to match him. "Fine. You're a 'snake.'" (You make the quotation marks with your fingers.) "And you're also 'not Management,' right?"
"Charlie, I'm not sure what to tell you there. I'm not affiliated with this Management. I have my hands full managing you, frankly, especially when you go off and do silly things like—" He indicates your forehead again. "Is there a reason why you're so dogged about this?"
"No reason. Just that there's some kind of mysterious group of people, and they all dress like you, and they talk kind of funny, and they go around meddling in... affairs, and experimenting on people, and they wanted to steal a <span class="mu-i">snake</span>— but they have no relation to you at all?"
"Not to me personally, no. If I asked you if you knew Mary Ann, what would you say?"
What? "Who's that?"
"Well, I wouldn't know, Charlie. I'm sure there's a female person out there named Mary Ann, and you ought to know her, yes? As you are also a female person?"
"What are you <span class="mu-i">talking</span> about? Do you know how many pe..." Richard is smirking. God-damnit! "So they are snakes?!"
"Who said anything about snakes? I've never met these individuals, Charlie. There's very little I can tell you about them."
"But you're telling me they're snakes," you say. "Or... or 'snakes'? Maybe? But you don't know them, because it's not like you know every single snake in the world. Right?"
"Did I say any of that?"
Hold firm. "No... but you meant it! So don't try to mess with me! I know you meant it."
Richard holds firm, too, but then his smirk cracks into a real (if modest) smile. "I have you trained well, don't I?"
Yes!
>[+1 ID: 3/14]
"There's not much I can provide, though, without ever having encountered them. I don't think it's my place to speculate."
"That's okay," you say. "When I get out of here, you can come along and see—"
"I'm afraid not."
"What? Be serious." He looks serious. Damnit. "I thought you were fixed!"
"No amount of 'fixing' could help. It's metaphysics. I trust you vividly remember previous spelunking trips? Specifically, my whereabouts during them?"
His whereabouts? He went missing, mostly. He... oh. It's coming back to you. The demonstration with the balls made of clay. "You get squished?"
"That's not the technical term, but yes, effectively. The pressure of the manse's layers collapses us together. Temporarily, or I wouldn't be here, but I... I find it unpleasant. No offense, primrose, though I believe your feelings are similar?"
(2/5?)
