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"It doesn't matter in either case." Lucky sounds tense. "All of this is unprovable garbage. There is no widespread problem of people 'bursting' into 'knots,' or whatever else <span class="mu-i">magicians</span> are doing to their fellow man these days. The matter of concern should be that Leftenant Fawkins has utilized unnatural forces and most likely her personal mutations to double the size of her man-eating worm. She has has then <span class="mu-i">vanished</span> along with said worm. Doubtlessly this was her plan all along, to lure us here and abuse our talents to—"
"I-I-I think she really just wanted to rescue... um..."
"—enter the gate. But it couldn't stop there, could it? She plotted this as a <span class="mu-i">joke</span> on me. An enormous joke. I had not thought about you, Mr. Graves, for <span class="mu-i">years—</span>"
"That's mutual," Arledge says.
"Precisely. And here you are. You, and this walking <span class="mu-i">insult</span>—" He's looking at you! "—and an animal I would under <span class="mu-i">any</span> other circumstance kill on sight. All of that, brought into not any ordinary AUX-space but a <span class="mu-i">perverse and unobtainable mirror</span> of the Wind Court's dearest ideals. Gentlemen." The corner of Lucky's lip is hooked up over his teeth. "This woman has played you for pawns and me for a fool. This is more than intentional: this is a <span class="mu-i">power trip.</span> Do we agree?"
Arledge spits toothpick bits onto the bench next to you. "They're not mutually exclusive."
Lucky looks at you. You stare back. What the fuck is <span class="mu-i">he</span> smoking? What's wrong with these people? Arledge wasn't even Lottie's first pick, you're nearly sure. And she didn't bring the fucking worm as a mockery, or whatever, she brought it because... because she has a hard-on for worms, or something. Again, you can't pretend to understand her, but at least you don't pull things out of your ass? You don't— you don't— "Has she <span class="mu-i">done</span> something to you?" you manage.
"Has Harrier-Leftenant Charlotte Fawkins <span class="mu-i">done</span> something to me?" Lucky scoff-laughs. "How recently are we speaking of? Because recently she broke my nose and left me to die, if that fits your criteria."
You could see that. He is kind of a dickhead. "Anything besides that?"
"Sure, Mr. Wallace. What would we like to discuss? The formation of a strictly outlawed paraorganization? The induction of a great deal of previously loyal Court members? The fomentation of unrest and dissent?" He pauses. "Or maybe you'd prefer to hear about the <span class="mu-i">five</span> murders and suicides and murder-suicides linked to the paraorganization. And about Harrier-Leftenant Fawkins' ignominious desertion shortly after these tragedies came to light, and her subsequent total disappearance. Does that work better?"
"Five is low," Arledge comments. "For that level of infection. Should've considered yourself luc— fortunate she opted to remove herself."
(4/5?)
