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You are Charlotte Fawkins, noted heiress, detective, adventuress, and heroine, cruelly trapped underwater (in the sticks!) after the completion of your quest to find your long-lost family heirloom. Tragically, nobody here li̶k̶e̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u appreciates your talents, even Richard- the snake who lives in your head. Right now, you are rescuing your retainer Gil from the clutches of your nemesis Horse Face.
"No!" you say a touch wildly. "No, I will not stay to <span class="mu-i">spectate</span> your wicked— your perverse— I'm leaving. We're leaving. We are leaving this instant, Gil, and if you argue I'll— I'll—"
What <span class="mu-i">will</span> you do? You're struggling to think of a punishment you wouldn't feel strange about delivering, not with him all wide-eyed and <span class="mu-i">sad</span> during it. He'd probably be apologizing the whole time. "—you know what I'll do, alright? So come <span class="mu-i">on.</span> Get up, stretch your legs... um, etcetera. Gil?"
He looks confused, which you could construe as a win if you put enough effort into it. (Your sheer force of presence has overwhelmed his mental faculties, or something.) But he isn't moving, which is more difficult to justify, and which is making you fidgety. Surely he doesn't actually want to stay, does he? With <span class="mu-i">Horse Face?</span> Surely he's just going along with it so Horse Face doesn't take revenge, for example by stealing his belongings, or perhaps bleeding him on some gross and unholy altar. Or less charitably, Horse Face has performed dark magycks upon him, so he has no choice to stay, lest he be wracked with excruciating spasms should he leave.
«Ha ha.»
«Or he has simply realized that you are poor company, and even this horse man represents a superior alternative.»
No, he <span class="mu-i">hasn't</span> done so, because that's objectively incorrect, and you think Richard is getting awfully cocky for someone you just made go shopping. Unless he intends to say that was all according to plan?
«I will not be dragged into your childish finger-pointing.»
Uh-huh. Well, the two options you proposed are the only two possibilities, everything else is a vicious and cowardly lie, and this clearly means you must step up your game. Gil's very life is at stake, after all. "I mean, it's <span class="mu-i">urgent,</span>" you say. "It's an emergency, really, and I couldn't <span class="mu-i">bear</span> to handle it without you, and if you don't leave right this instant something awful will happen! I mean it! Awful! So let's <span class="mu-i">go,</span> and—"
Gil's confusion has faded, but you can't quite interpret whatever's on his face now. "You couldn't bear to handle it..."
"Without you," you say impatiently. "Since you're my retainer, and you're useful, and I want you around, and stuff. Unlike <span class="mu-i">Horse Face,</span> who's probably plotting to cut your skull open and scoop the god juice out with a teaspoon—"
"The god juice?" Horse Face strokes his chin.
You ignore that. "So let's <span class="mu-i">go</span> already."
(1/3)
