Quoted By:
>Bros before hos
Well, it's not as if you like talking to Madrigal, anyways. Far better to spend your time speaking to people who like and appreciate you. So you will take Richard's cue, even though you didn't need it, and— where is he, anyways?
"Right here, Charlie." Something flickers in the corner of your eye. «I always have tabs on you.»
Except for when he doesn't, and is underwater or something instead. Or dead. But whatever. You have Richard right now, and— oh. Madrigal's walking ahead of you again. Fine! You don't need her! Like you just said! What else were you saying? Something something, people who like and appreciate you— a-ha. You meant Gil, of course. Who is at present consorting with "Garvin," AKA Horse Face, adding further urgency to the matter! You must rescue him immediately! Yes!
Your speed-march back to camp is cleverly angled away from Madrigal's plodding path, as to avoid further encounters, at least while she's mad at you for no reason. (But when isn't she mad at you for no reason?) It isn't all that far to Horse Face's tent, which is after all right next to yours, and (as is typical for him) Horse Face has failed to properly secure his door.
«I don't know if—»
You bust in. Horse Face, ensconced in his overstuffed armchair, arches his eyebrows. Gil bolts out of his seat, in the process splashing his teacup all down his front— "Shit!" he hisses, and stares down at himself, and back at you, and back at himself, and back at you, breathing kind of heavy, not moving forward, all while his ankle jitters like a pneumatic drill.
You clear your throat. "Salutations!"
"Welcome back," Horse Face says, and raises his teacup to you.
Damnit! You didn't mean that for him. At least Gil's arrived at a type of conclusion, fumbling to set his empty teacup down and hastening towards you. He skids to a halt right in front of your face, hands turned up and outward, and from the frantic light in his eyes you don't know whether he means to slug you or hug you or both.
After a few long seconds, you realize he doesn't know, either. "...Gil?" you probe.
"..." He swallows, staring down at his hands. After much concerted thought, he drops one of his hands, inches backwards, and offers the other one out, as if for a handshake.
Sure, this is new to you— but Gil has previously been full of strange customs (such as the victorious "hand slap"), and at least this one appears more civilized? <span class="mu-i">You</span> wouldn't ordinarily greet your noble beloved presumed-dead lady with a mere shake of the hands, but more than likely this is usual for him, where he comes from. Perhaps even a sign of tremendous respect. So you should take it in good faith, and indeed 'put your all' into it. Yes!
(1/3?)
