Quoted By:
>Sidequest Complete!
You guess you've heard Gil laugh before, briefly or bitterly, but you'd never really paid attention. It's high and raspy, and his shoulders are up, and his head is ducked in such a way that you can't quite see his expression. It's probably nothing. He's probably fine. But he just exploded, and you just— you just put <span class="mu-i">red stuff</span> in him (why did you <span class="mu-i">do</span> that?!), and... "Gil?" you say.
He looks up at you, still grinning. You raise a questioning thumbs up. His brows furrow a smidgen, but he raises a thumb back, fixes his gaze on it, and begins again to laugh.
So he is okay? You waver, feeling out of the loop, then settle on joining in— but in a dignified fashion, so you have an escape in case something goes wrong. You attempt to picture a noble laugh. (This is one thing your Aunt Ruby never instructed you on.) Then you cover your mouth with your hand, to maximize plausible deniability, and take your best stab at it. "Ohohohohoho—!"
Did that sound good? You thought it sounded good, but as soon as you started Gil began to wheeze, and by now he's practically hyperventilating. Great, you think, you've botched it— except that you've unexpectedly begun to giggle, and he's going red, and now <span class="mu-i">you're</span> laughing, loud, hard, from the stomach. For what feels like forever and ever.
>[+3 ID: 13/13]
Pat's voice is a douse of cold water. "What is <span class="mu-i">wrong</span> with you people?"
Gil gasps for breath. You hiccup. "W— what? Shut up. You didn't even—"
"What's wrong with <span class="mu-i">us?</span>" Gil manages. "You <span class="mu-i">shot—</span>"
"Yes! We've been over this! I shot you because of <span class="mu-i">her</span>—" She points straight at you. "—and for entirely comprehensible reasons, and in an entirely reasonable fashion. I <span class="mu-i">didn't</span> pull some hacky nonsense out of my <span class="mu-i">ass</span> like you and every single one of your associates—"
"Ellery isn't my <span class="mu-i">associate,</span>" you say, and hiccup.
"He dragged you in to ruin our club? But fine. I guess Ellery's infected every single one of <span class="mu-i">his</span> associates with his gullshit— is that what you want to hear? Or do you have a reason for—" She gestures at Gil. "—<span class="mu-i">that?</span> That's not how it works, Charlotte. It doesn't work that way."
"Well, it did?" You clamber to your feet, and Gil follows. "So what do you care? It's not like you <span class="mu-i">helped.</span>"
"Only gave him the whole damn body? But sure, go ahead and get one of these without me. I'll wait."
You glare at Pat. She glares at you. "And he still needs to be <span class="mu-i">cured,</span> by the way, so get off the soapbox. You're lucky I'm doing that."
"<span class="mu-i">Cured?</span> I already—"
"I-I feel fine," Gil says defensively. "I'm good."
"Not that kind of cured, <span class="mu-i">champ.</span> It's high heat, toughens you up. Means you're not dripping everywhere." She crosses her arms. "Not that I <span class="mu-i">care</span> whether you drip, but I have professional standards."
"<span class="mu-i">How</span> high of a heat?" you say.
(1/2)