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You are Charlotte Fawkins, dashing heroine, detective, adventuress, heiress, sorceress, etcetera. Three years ago, you drowned yourself in a quest to find a long-lost family heirloom; nowadays, you're just nobly c̶a̶u̶s̶i̶n̶g̶ solving problems with the help of trusty retainer Gil and mind-snake Richard. Inexplicably, many people tend to "dislike" you, though you've never done anything wrong in your life.
Right now, you are ready to uncover a mystery you've been pursuing for several weeks. You just need to get the mystery to talk, first.
Woe is you! If only it were that simple. Real Ellery, looking more haywire than usual, has been bouncing his heel against his ankle for the past five minutes. His skeleton fingers are tightly laced. His eyes dart between you and Madrigal and Earl, but they mainly seem to land on you and you again. He scratches his scruffy cheek. He bounces his heel.
"We can sit here as long as you want, you fucker." Madrigal's been trying variations of that since you all sat down, which was instrumented by her telling Ellery that he had fucking guests, and if he burnt his house down that was <span class="mu-i">his</span> problem, and if he wanted to pull the whole I-can-do-anything card he better find a couple of chairs. You wound up on a chartreuse settee, and he plonked himself on a beat-up lounge chair. He hasn't been lounging, though— he's been hunched over and bouncing. Some ash gets in your nose, and you sneeze.
"Hell, we can sit here and not say a word. Is that what you want? You son-of-a-bitch? We can <span class="mu-i">stare—</span>"
You sort of think that is what Ellery wants, but you've been restraining yourself from interrupting: Madrigal looks ready to plaster anybody who speaks up. All the better. You need the time to figure out how to <span class="mu-i">upstage</span> her.
«Charlie, that's not a useful mindset to have.»
Excuse you? <span class="mu-i">She's</span> the one who stole your rescue, made friends with her stupid kidnapper, obtained powers, magycked Ellery without turning evil— she's back in her usual whoreish clothes now, and nobody's said a damn thing. Now she thinks she can detectivate better than you can, just because she's slobbered all over Ellery a couple times? She thinks <span class="mu-i">she</span> can figure this all out? Last you checked, you're the one who learned all about— ahem—
1) How Ellery came back to life a couple days after he died, but didn't remember a thing about it. And how this'd been happening since the break-up, his dying and coming back, but it didn't seem to be accidental: he'd do something suicidally risky every time he started growing suspicious of his situation, die, forget about it, and repeat.
2) He also refused to talk about or didn't seem to remember certain topics, including the various times you met him inside a manse.
(1/2?)
