Quoted By:
"I never said I didn't <span class="mu-i">care,</span> I just— I have more important things to do right now, and I don't want to be forced to do stupid boring— obviously I'm going to get it back at <span class="mu-i">some</span> point, I don't want the mask person to be a god or anything—"
"It would make no difference if they did." He cups his head in his hands and glowers through lidded eyes. "It may as well be them as you, Charlotte Fawkins. And more than likely it will be neither. More than likely it'll never be <span class="mu-i">any.</span>"
"What are you talking about?" you say.
"I am getting a <span class="mu-i">drink.</span> Do this yourself." He stands from the crate, tosses the tweezers at you, and turns his back. Some clinking ensues. You sigh, bend to pick up the tweezers, and are about to flex your ambidexterity when a hearty knock sounds at the door. Richard doesn't turn his head. You sigh once more, get up, and unlock the door.
"Miss Fawkins! <span class="mu-i">There</span> you are." It's one of the disposable Courtiers, what's-his-face, Molina? Him and the dark-haired one who gave you lip earlier. K-something. Karima? Kich— Kichima. Both of them are standing outside the door, smiling in a vaguely condescending fashion. "You had us <span class="mu-i">worried.</span>"
"Burying any bodies in there?" Kichima says dryly.
"No, I just—" You glance at Richard. "It's none of your business? Maybe I'm doing important hero work in here, not that you'd understand anything about that—"
"Hey." The smile drops off Molina. "We're over here putting in actual time and legwork and losing men left and right, and just because you're some priggy bitch who swoops in at the last—"
Kichima steps on her colleague's boot. "He's a little too <span class="mu-i">imbibed,</span> Miss Fawkins. The rest of us would be thrilled to have you celebrate your great deed at our private table."
She says it without any requisite emotion. You look between the two of them. "Um, what if I'm not—"
"You're <span class="mu-i">invited,</span>" she says.
It's not a question, or even really an offer. You <span class="mu-i">will</span> be at their table, is the subtext, and they're not going to stop standing here until you go. They might even go in and watch you slowly pick bits out of your hand. You glance back again. Richard has located something wine-like and is swigging directly from the bottle. "Uh," you say— positive thinking— "well, of course. I'll enliven your table with my presence, and—"
"I'm certain you will." She smiles a little more. "We're back here."
You're led to the table you spotted earlier with Kichima taking point in the front and Molina in the rear fending off curious onlookers. When you arrive, Kichima slides into an empty seat next to Horse Face, who sits next to Lucky, who is across from the woman Hatch— Molina plops down next to her. There is no seat for you. Curiously, there's no glasses anywhere on the table, but canteens hang from some of the chairs.
"Ms. Fawkins," Lucky says by way of greeting. "Welcome! That was quite a inspirational speech you gave back there."
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