Quoted By:
>No stabby
You can't rule it out. What if she does it first? Lures you in close, then stabs you in the heart? Or shoots you, you guess. Then it'd be completely justified to stab her back, and you'd definitely be able to, owing to your heroic vigor and/or Richard's re-existence. <span class="mu-r">Y</span>ou'd get her right in the gut, then slash her open from navel to sternum— or no, you'd have to get the throat first, so she didn't scream. You're not stupid. Just the throat real quick, then—
"Charlie?"
No. No. No. You can rule it out. No matter what creepy things Pat does to you, you are not laying a single finger on The Sword, and that's the end of the story. If she shoots you, Richard can do whatever he wants in revenge. Or Madrigal can use <span class="mu-i">her</span> stupid fancy spear to gut Pat, if she wants. But you can't be trusted, and you really wish Richard would stop making that expression at you, all <span class="mu-i">fake-</span>worried, like he wouldn't throw you a big party if you up and murdered Pat. Or like he doesn't want to invade you and parade you around, if you were the one getting murdered. This whole thing's a win-win for him, frankly, so if he'd like to give up and start gloating in your face, that'd be—
"This is a yes-or-no question," Pat snaps. "And I'm not lifting a <span class="mu-i">finger</span> until you—"
"I'm not going to stab you," you say.
"Wow. Okay. Don't know what took you so long, since it's <span class="mu-i">your</span> buddy, but maybe you don't like the guy too much. Give me your hand."
What if she doesn't stab you, but she drugs you instead? Or uses this to get inside your head? No. Richard's there. You stretch an arm out, and Pat seizes your wrist, sticking your palm with something pointy. "Ow!" you say. "<span class="mu-i">Hey!</span> I thought we said—"
"We said <span class="mu-i">you</span> wouldn't stab me. It's just a scratch." She pockets a scalpel and swipes a bead of blood off with her finger, then sticks it in her mouth experimentally. "Holy gods, that's weak. What's wrong with you?"
You're dumbfounded. "What? Nothing! I—"
"Whatever. It's not totally inert. Here." She takes your palm, presses it against her forehead, and holds it there. Her eyes are closed. Richard is nodding reassuringly at you, which is the only reason you don't scream for Earl or Madrigal in the space it takes for Pat to open her eyes again. When she does, her pupils are dilated.
You look into them and rapidly away: they were pulling at you. Pat lowers your palm and shifts her grip forward, into more of a tight handshake. "Look at me."
"Uh..." You're looking just to the left of her. "Are you sure that's part of the process? Maybe it's some dumb fluff you've got to—" She's stepped to the left, directly into your field of view. Her pupils are <span class="mu-i">dilated,</span> eyes are more black than white. You look at your boots.
Next thing you know, her face is right in yours, and she's forcing your chin up with her fist. "<span class="mu-i">Look</span> at me, you bitch, so we can get this over with."
(1/3)
