Quoted By:
"Don't take it so literally. Would you allow a child such things? Would most people?" He raises his eyebrows. "I would expect not, because a child has yet to meet death. It doesn't know the meaning of it, nor the weight. It is only when the child grows that it is found worthy of death's facilitators, and is able to do what it will with them."
...What you did isn't a <span class="mu-i">loaded rifle.</span>
"No, it's quite worse— at least a gunshot is rapid. I thought you acquitted yourself well, however, for a first sip at the poison well. Perhaps yesterday prebloodied you." He stands, offering you a hand.
You stay seated. Gunshots? Poison? Blood? Ha ha. You know what this is. <span class="mu-i">He's</span> trying to instill doubt in you. He's trying to make it out like you're already "second-guessing" yourself, whatever <span class="mu-i">that</span> means, while he goes and snakes into your ear— but you're wise to his tricks. Your possessing plan is phenomenal, as your plans always are, and you're not budging one—
"You know that's not the word for it, Charlie? 'Possessing.' You've invented that yourself." Richard tucks his hands behind his back. "Would you like to know the original?"
No.
"..." You lean back as Richard acquires a look of displeasure, or so it seems— as the seconds click past, you realize it's more like confoundment. His brow is creased, and his eyes have gone a tinge glassy. "..." he says. "...I'm sorry, I... I can't recall the word... only something approximate."
"Um," you say, then shut your mouth. Fine. Approximate is fine? Anything so he stops looking so weird.
"Then I believe," he says slowly, "it is something in the spirit of 'the small death.' What you did. What I do. The small death."
Okay, he's not even pretending not to be trying to scare you.
"Nothing of that sort, Charlie, I... I'm sorry, I... perhaps it translates poorly..." He's still looking weird, if not weirder, which could be another clever trick— except he's still <span class="mu-i">apologizing.</span> For all his deception, Richard never stooped so low, or went quite so green around the edges.
Is he <span class="mu-i">ill?</span>
"No, no, I..." Richard waves off your question, even as he squints fixedly at nothing. "I apologize. I feel as though I've... begun in the wrong way. Given the wrong impression. You came to me for surety, and I've only..." He sighs. "May I begin again?"
What? Sure? As long as it doesn't take too long— he talks <span class="mu-i">so</span> much already.
"Thank you." He crouches down and presses his thumb against your forehead. Firmly, he drags it up to your hairline. Your eyes roll upward to match.
*
Ow! Damnit! Where are you? You'd just finished going through the plan, and now you— and now— oh. You're in the same room, still, with the light pouring through the ceiling. Specklike plankton are swarming near it. And that's everybody just over there, and Richard... very close to you. Is everything okay?
(2/6?)
