Quoted By:
>Join the club
You have left panic behind in your body; similarly you've abandoned fear and dread and the furnace-core of your anger towards Henry, even if he <span class="mu-i">has</span> disembodied you. He sounds sincere about the apology, which could be a result of his evil cultish charisma, but could also not be. He did let you leave freely after the last ill-fated "meeting." And he was your father's... to the best of your knowledge, your father's friend, and you feel that has to count for something. When you're all removed like this, you're able to count it for something.
You're not <span class="mu-i">so</span> removed, though, that you've forgotten the Earl in the room. What if you had a companion? you direct down the line. Could you, er, go warn him? Before mysteriously passing out and/or vanishing?
<span class="mu-r">[</span>That wouldn't be a problem at all. We're not in a time crunch.<span class="mu-r">]</span>
<span class="mu-r">[</span>I'll leave some slack so you can stick your head up.<span class="mu-r">]</span>
Sure enough, the weak pull stops being a pull at all, and you impel yourself with hardly any effort into your body's wet clay and sit up, gasping. Your head swims. There is still something palpably attached near your navel, but when you look you see nothing. Earl lands with a massive <span class="mu-i">thunk</span> beside you.
He had landed on all fours, and he remains crouched on all fours as you sit up— he may sense that the tunnel's too short to accommodate him fully. (You recall his back complaints.) He is grinning. You feel the furnace-heat begin to kick back in (the amount of ooshy-gooshy condescending <span class="mu-i">BS</span>...) and rattle off instructions before you're able to change your mind. "Earl. Earl. Buddy. I'm, um— I'm going back to sleep. Sleep time. Can you wait? Wait for me? I'm going to, um, talk with some people." You hope it's just talking. "I'll come back, just like last time. Please wait. And don't, um, kill anybody, unless you're— if you're in really big danger, then that's okay. You can kill them if they're planning to kill you. Do you get it?"
Your voice keeps tilting into a high, babyish register when you speak to him, which you find in equal parts disturbing and inexorable. His tendency to cock his head at your voice doesn't help one bit. "Yeah!"
"Can you repeat that back to me?"
He assumes a mask of concentration. "Wait... hurt me... I hurt!"
This was almost a full sentence. You fidget with the hilt of The Sword. "Um, yes! Good job. I'll be back soon." You kneel next to him, as not to fall over, and attempt to—
<span class="mu-r">[</span>All done? You seem done. Sitting back down.<span class="mu-r">]</span>
<span class="mu-r">[</span>That's perfect, really. Hold still.<span class="mu-r">]</span>
(1/3?)
