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>On the road again
"—go drop off that newspaper. So I look on top of things, right? Committed, and *dedicated*— and maybe, you know, I can go in for another interview? Without Lucky this time. I really feel like he was killing my— what? Bad plan?"
Gil had been making a face, but he starts at your direct address. "Aw, no— no. Uh. I-I-I just don't know what you're... what newspaper?"
What /newspaper/? Have you not told him about the Possibly Madrigal situation? Perhaps you do need to keep him better-informed. "Oh, dear. Um... there's somebody who might or might not be Madrigal who's being held by the Wind Court. She looks like her, but she can't have the real Madrigal's body, because, um, you have that. So it's a gooplicate— except she claims that Namway, that's the people who shot you, experimented on her? And put her in a goo body? Since she was a snake..."
He nods weakly.
"Right. So I went and talked to her, and I, uh— I still wasn't— I required further consultations to ascertain the validity of her or possibly its claims. Ahem. So I shall be going, and ascertaining, and..."
«Leaving him behind once again.»
«Truly you are a paragon of camaraderie.»
Did you ask Richard? No? And also, Gil just said he wasn't mad at you for leaving him behind places. And also also, you will be conducting a thorough summary of your storied history this very evening, which should obviate any negative feelings, as Gil will be too inspired and awed to worry about that stuff. Duh. "...and dropping off a newspaper to read, since she said she was bored. Maybe a pack of cards, too. Do you have a pack of cards?"
He frowns and pats around in his pockets, then his waistband— you know he's found something by his look of bemusement, even before he extracts a battered little pack. "...Uh..."
"Fantastic! So that just leaves the newspaper. The archives— have you seen them yet? No." He was with Horse Face. "Well, the archives have some. So, forsooth, we shall sally forth— they're not that far. They're over there. Let's just head in, and head out, and—"
-
As you were hoping, the archives stand empty of Eloise or any other pesky stranger. The sand has shifted around since you were here this morning, but a big scuffed spot remains where you'd— where you had *understandably* fallen down a little bit, and then gotten back up, because Richard couldn't tell you what to do. And still can't. You go and kick some more sand over the scuffed spot, just in case.
If Gil has noticed the scuffed spot, he isn't saying anything. He stands, hands in pockets, surveying the dinky shack. He seems to be shaking less: it could be the course of time, but you're sure you had something to do with it. You do have a calming presence.
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