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>Excuse me, he asked for NO PICKLES!!!!!!!
"That's what you say every time," you inform him. "It isn't."
Gil straightens up. Richard, red light glinting off his coif, clasps his hands together. "I don't think that's a fully accurate assessment of the situation, primrose, but I apologize if I've misled you at some point. You know I never intend to cause you pain. Regardless, Mr. Wallace lacks the <span class="mu-i">ability</span> to feel pain, so I wouldn't call the two comparable?"
Do you know that? You scoff uncomfortably. "Is it supposed to matter if you— if he can't feel pain? He doesn't want to! And it's not like not knowing about the beetles is going to kill him, or something dumb like that, so there's no excuse for shoving it in his— it's not going to kill him, right?"
"I very much doubt it."
"Okay! See! Now cease harassing my sworn-ed retainer, you fiend!" You flourish The Sword. "If you come one step closer, I shall defend him with my very life, as is my sworn-ed— um, my sacred— my duty! Don't you know that? You were there when I..."
Gil has stepped back, or you have stepped forward, but either way you find yourself between him and Richard. For his part, Richard is neither cowed nor angered. Unamused, maybe. "Charlotte, kindly stow your blade."
"Why?" You wave it around in his face. "You want to go and stab Gil? Want my mighty guard down, don't you? Anyhow, I thought you couldn't <span class="mu-i">feel pain,</span> so I don't see why you'd be scared of a little—"
"Do you intend to kill me?" he says matter-of-factly.
>[-1 ID: 11/14]
That was not something he was supposed to say at all. Your stomach flips. "No— no! I just— um, I'm just defending—"
"Then keep <span class="mu-i">this—</span>" He lowers the tip of The Sword with his finger. "—away from me. You do not point a deadly weapon at somebody you don't intend to kill. I <span class="mu-i">thought</span> I taught you safe handling."
"You didn't teach me anyth..." you start, but <span class="mu-i">kill me</span> is still ringing in your ears. Maybe he did teach you, and you forgot. Maybe the only reason he's lecturing you and not dashing The Sword from your hand or shanking Gil to make a point is because you <span class="mu-i">did</span> kill him, really, and now he's not himself anymore. And it's your fault. "Sorry."
"I forgive you, primrose. You're right, you wouldn't have hurt me regardless. Just be mindful."
He begins to strip his gloves off, and you sheathe The Sword shame-facedly. Gil nudges your ankle with his shoe. "Thanks," he mumbles into your ear.
>[+1 ID: 12/14]
You nod and, wanting to change the subject, clear your throat. "So what the hell were both of you doing here before me? Isn't this <span class="mu-i">my</span> manse?"
Richard bobs his head. "Yes. But you are real, so you lack any natural jurisdiction. Which isn't to say that one can't be learned, with effort, but you may contrast this with Mr. Wallace and I's— how best to put it? We are of the mind. While you were traveling, we were on some level already here."
(1/3)
