maskormenacelogs | Someone painted "April Fool" in big black letters

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Someone painted "April Fool" in big black letters

WHO: Rincewind and Maeve Millay, with eventual Dr. Chilton and Teddy Flood.
WHERE: Maurtia Falls
WHEN: La...ter? I'll get back to you on this one.
WHAT: Trading a pawn for a knight.
WARNINGS: Kidnapping and at least the threat of violence.

[light rain plips and plops off the edges of Rincewind's broad-brimmed hat, a to-go box of twice-baked potatoes tucked carefully under one arm. His lunch breaks at the hospital are just long enough to allow for a quick jaunt out, and by now every pub within a five-mile radius knows to expect him on certain days (according, of course, to which of them is holding the best special).

He makes for an odd figure as he walks down the sidewalk, being a man dressed in a clean(ish) uniform and wizard's hat. Further ruining any chance of blending into the crowd is the Luggage following close behind him, the wooden mechanisms of its consciousness currently considering the benefits of tripping its master. Those potatoes are awfully appetizing.

Possessing the sixth sense of all pet owners with particularly chaotic-neutral pets, Rincewind sends it a wary glower.] ...Whatever you're considering, don't.

[the Luggage doesn't. But it does kick half its feet at the nearest puddle, frightening a pigeon and splashing street water over Rincewind's favorite pair of bowling shoes. He groans a particularly choice Klatchian curse and stops to shake the water off.]

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[ The weather is quite brisk in Maurtia Falls, and Maeve has actually taken to wearing a jacket over top a pair of regular jeans -- trading in her corset for more modern attire. The point is to blend in, of course. The less attention she draws to herself, the better. Perhaps something Rincewind could stand to learn given that god awful hat he's wearing and the giant chest that's parading around him like a pet.

Ah well. It only makes finding him easier. Maeve had done enough research on Chilton to know what his weak points are. His girlfriend is at the top of that list, but a close second was either Rincewind or Will Graham. Rincewind seemed like the easier target.

And so, Maeve approaches the wiz(z)ard, canting her head at the piece of furniture. ]

It obeys you? Just like that?

- Hm?

[Rincewind glances up, one foot raised awkward mid-shake, and colors some when he sees he's being watched by a woman. He lowers his leg. Awkwardly.]

Well, "obey" is always something of strong term to use with the Luggage. [he glances at the chest, which has opted to ignore them both in favor of wandering behind its master to stalk another pigeon.] Depending on its mood. But, er. Yes. Mostly. It's magical, you see.

[obviously.

There's an awful flutter of wings and the ominous 'snap' of a lid. Rincewind puts on a wide, pained smile for Maeve, very pointedly not looking behind him.]

Anyway, sorry, er - miss, did you need something else? Directions or something? If you're looking for an autograph or something, I'm afraid I'm on my lunch break.

And carnivorous. From the looks of it.

[ Her eyes are on the thing, a little wary of it. Perhaps that's the most threatening thing about Rincewind. But it's an obstacle that can be worked around. Maeve takes a few steps forward to bridge the distance she had put between them, especially while the Luggage was distracted. ]

I was looking for directions, actually. I'm rather new to Maurtia Falls, you see. So I was hoping you could help me find my way.

[ She speaks it more for the Luggage's sake, so that it wasn't alarmed as she moves even closer, leaning in to whisper: ]

Feeling rather generous, Rincewind tells his Chest to meet him back at Dr. Chilton's office as he helps Maeve to find her way.

[ Her eyes are on Rincewind intensely, waiting to see how he took to her narrative powers -- waiting to see if anything blocked her ability or if he was too strong of will to be controlled. This is the most vital test because if Rincewind has a resistance, this whole plan would be for nought. ]

[a curious expression crosses Rincewind's face, tension between his eyes and a frown crossing his lips as something in him tugs against this psychic binding. It doesn't last. By the time the next drop of rain falls from the brim of his hat, the redhead's offering Maeve a downright eager smile, clearly just pleased as punch to be able to help.]

Well, don't you worry, I've plenty of practice as a tour guide. I can absolutely show you around. [he turns to wave a dismissive hand at the Luggage, which shakes a feather from its lid. It exudes what might, if it were a creature with facial features, be an attentive look.]

You go back to the hospital now, do you understand? Go wait in my office for me, I'll be there shortly.

[the Luggage doesn't move.

Aggravated, Rincewind snaps his fingers and gestures more firmly.]

I told you to leave, didn't I? So go on! Shoo! I'll come find you later, all right? Don't be so damned difficult.

[somehow, there's something hurt in the Luggage's silence. With slow, obvious reluctance, its feet shuffle around them and then pause, as if waiting in confusion for Rincewind to change his mind. The wizard only glowers.]

Sorry about that, [he offers once the Luggage finally goes, gesturing for Maeve to follow as he leads her down the sidewalk.] Part of its enchantment is to follow its master everywhere, it generally hates to leave me alone. So, anyway - where would you like me to show you first? There's a few bars around here I like, or the Hotel Castile. Or the hospital, even, if you like sort of large, imposing buildings.

Edited 2017-03-14 01:52 (UTC)

[ And it worked. She draws back with a smile that's a mix of relief and satisfaction. Her eyes linger on the living piece of furniture then. She doesn't understand magic, but if she thinks about it in terms of programming -- she can understand the Luggage's reluctance. Rincewind must override its innate desire to protect him, and eventually, it listens.

Also a relief. ]

Thank you. I don't know what I would do without you. Perhaps one of the bars? One that serves some food as well as drink. It would do wonders to get you fed. My treat in exchange for your hospitality.

[ She starts walking away from their spot, only a few steps before allowing Rincewind to guide the way. And she's not lying. She'll at least get him fed before essentially forcing him into a taxi and taking him to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. ]

Are you fond of this city?

Oh, I've got lunch already. [Rincewind shakes his to-go box to wave away her concern, several halves of potato sliding around inside.] But I can always find a bar, if that's what you'd like. Or whatever else you're looking for. There's a casino, I know. And various clubs and things.

[he's absolutely not taking her to the Iron Throne - Baelish might get the idea to hand her an application.]

I don't mind it. [he shrugs, clearly uncommited one way or another.] It reminds me a little of home, in some ways. Busy and crime-ridden, you know, with food carts which can sell a decent sausage-inna-bun. It's not my first choice for cities, but my job's here.

I'm Rincewind, by the way. I'm not sure I mentioned.

[he's also not entirely sure about showing this lovely woman around, even as he's doing it. Rincewind had thought for sure he'd have to get back to work soon.]

And you are? I'm guessing you're an imPort, being this new.

[ She listens to him prattle on about the city while scanning the streets for a cab. She's been here enough to acquaint herself with this city and its means of travel. ]

Oh, darling. I think you might be in the wrong line of work if it's bringing you to such a dangerous city and putting you in dangerous circumstances.

[ Her tone is a bit sympathetic. It's not like Maeve has anything against Rincewind. He's just a means to an end. The sacrificial lamb to get her friend back. In a way, he reminds her of a cross between Felix and Sylvester. The stuttering cowardess and sarcasm of Sylvester and the kindness of Felix. But she refuses to indulge the comparison because it may make her hesitate. And she certainly couldn't afford a hesitation. ]

It's a pleasure to meet you, Rincewind. I'm Maeve. [ No point in using a fake name since she's an imPort and all. ] You don't mind if we get a cab, do you?

[ She doesn't seem to care if he does because she's already waving for one -- a shady looking cab with a shady looking driver. This man seems used to dealing with transporting criminals from place to place, and it's exactly that reason why Maeve chose him. She climbs in and quietly tells the man their actual destination while slipping him a handsome sum of money to get there before leaning back to pat the seat for Rincewind invitingly. ]

Get yourself out of the cold a bit.

[ She could make him. And she would if he hesitates. But she'll give him the chance to decide for himself first. ]

Oh, sure.

[...is what his mouth says, but not far away are two eyes which look distinctly less okay with the idea. Every survivor's instinct carved into Rincewind's heart tugs desperately back on his reins even as his body follows Maeve in, settling in on the cracked leather of the backseat, his greasy boxed lunch secured on his lap.

You don't even know her! some inner lookout shouts once the door shuts. Why would a beautiful woman you've just met be this friendly to you in the first place? Why is she acting concerned for you? People don't act concerned for you, this is wrong. This is all wrong!

Like a distant lighthouse beam shining through the narrative fog, this alarm sounds clearer only as the car starts to move, the engine humming benignly as their driver, too, follows the path Maeve's set for them. Rincewind's hand still hasn't left the door handle. He becomes aware of that too, slowly, looking at his curled fingers before dragging his gaze to the world rolling by outside the cab's window. His smile feels increasingly like a structure supported by toothpicks and tape.]

So, er, where...

[don't let on that something's off, don't do anything, nothing's happened yet that you know of, you're just in a car with a woman without the Luggage and you're not sure why, don't panic.]

...Where is it we're going?

[ She reaches into the pocket of her jacket in order to withdraw her communicator, thumbing over the contact list. ]

You can relax. I'm not going to hurt you.

[ Maeve doesn't even have to look up to sense the tension in the wizard. ]

I need your help, actually.

[ Finding Chilton's name on the list, Maeve's finger hovers over the send button -- waiting for them to get a bit closer to their destination before she initiates contact. ]

Doctor Chilton is holding a friend of mine against his will. All a large misunderstanding, I'm sure. But I figured, given that you work for him -- you could help me persuade him to release Theodore.

[ The communicator is set down, and Maeve slowly turns to Rincewind, taking one of his hands (the one that's not on the door handle) gently in both of her own to give him a look of pleading desperation. Look at how sad she is, Rincewind. Look at how much Maeve needs the help. Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top? ]

Ah. [Rincewind looks at the hand Maeve has between her own own, and then up at the sorrowful, imploring face.] So you already knew who I was, then. Which would make you sort of - planning this, right? To find and have me here. With you. To help you with your friend.

[Theodore would be Teddy Flood, then. The hospital's first in-patient, the man with the hat. Well - not that he's allowed to wear it while he's staying in the hospital, that's part of protocol, apparently, but Rincewind saw it when Teddy was admitted. Quite the nice hat. Rather nice man, too, as far as the wizard's been able to tell from their limited interactions, which have admittedly been strictly medication-based. Being locked up in a mental hospital is an unpleasant business, so Rincewind's appreciated the relative courtesy Teddy's shown him. He always makes a point to give the man extra juice for that.

How Teddy's sometimes been with the orderlies is another matter, but as that's not Rincewind's job he couldn't care less.]

Well - absolutely. Absolutely I can help. [he nods firmly, attempting to slip his hand out so he can give a gentle pat to the top of Maeve's, soothing.]

Like you said, I know Dr. Chilton, and if this is enough of a misunderstanding for you to go to all this trouble just to get a moment with me, I'm sure he'll understand when I tell him so. We'll sort this all out.

[Rincewind offers her a reassuring smile, close-lipped and warm.

And then, when the car slows at a Yield sign, he tries to yank open the door and pitch himself out of it.]

[ Oh, Rincewind. Maeve had wanted this to go smoothly. She gave you the chance for it to go smoothly. But as could be expected of a human, Rincewind tries to escape. She appears so unimpressed by the attempt, leaning back in her seat. ]

Deep down, Rincewind knows he cannot outrun a vehicle. And with one look at the driver in the mirror, he also knows the driver has run down people before. Reluctantly, he accepts that escaping is futile.

[ Maeve withdraws her gun just in case that doesn't work. Just in case she needs a more volatile means of persuasion. ]

Make an attempt like that again, darling, and I promise you I will not miss my shot. I don't need you alive to make the transaction. But it would be better for your sake for you to keep on living.

[ And with those words, that's when Maeve hits the video option and gives Chilton a call. ]

[goosebumps rise up and down Rincewind's arms after she forms the very first syllable of those words, fine hairs lifting along the back of his neck. Maeve's narration descends on him like a heavy blanket, smothering any further movement. His arms drop from the door. Rincewind looks, as instructed, into the driver's rear-view mirror and then settles his body back against the cushion. Accepting. Reluctantly.

So much for riding with Miss Sweetly Pleading. At the sight of a gun in Maeve's hand he whimpers, nodding to show that he understands the situation with absolute clarity. He'd refused to be her partner, so now he's her captive - which is exactly the possibility he'd been concerned about in the first place. Why is it never reassuring to be proven right about things?

Silently, fearfully, the wizard tugs on the edges of his hat, pressed as far away from Maeve as the backseat allows, and watches.]

Doctor Frederick Chilton speaking.

[His formal address to unknown numbers, at least when they were incoming calls. Chilton leaned back in his leather chair, one ankle crossed over the other and his load-bearing heel propped cleanly on top the edge of his desk. There was a hum of a good mood in the air; Teddy Flood was still interesting. William had been chased out of the hospital. The Pennsylvania day was bright amidst a winter's thaw.

It was video. Chilton tilted his head, recognizing Maeve.]

Hello, there. I don't handle scheduling myself, you know, you really ought to have called through my receptionist Reggie.

Your biggest mistake here is thinking you have any say in what's about to happen, sweetheart. Something of yours went missing, and you didn't even take notice of it, did you?

[ An elegant brow arches upward and Maeve spares a glance toward her captive, panning the communicator to showcase Rincewind at the opposite end of her gun. Once she's sure Chilton has gotten a good look, the communicator turns back to her. ]

You're going to return Theodore to me. You're going to return him to me in one piece and in completely stable mental condition, otherwise I'll be keeping your dear friend.

What. [He almost choked on his brutalized shock, the sincere surprise apparent and etched in his every feature: eyes wide, nostrils flared, corners of his mouth stretched with the word.] Rincewind! You -- What the hell! You can't -- you cannot just kidnap people! And point guns at them! Return him, at once return him to me.

You are insane.

[His professional opinion.]

This is illegal.

[And what was Flood to her? More than homeworld companion, less than a sexual toy. Similar enough to merit enraged and precise action...]

Am I?

[ The question nonchalant, careless and somewhat mocking. Oh, no. She was hardly insane. She was finally awake. She could finally see that it was humanity who were the mad ones. ]

Let's not speak legalities, Doctor Chilton. Not when you and I both know you have no right to hold Theodore as long as you have. Now, I believe I'm being rather reasonable. I could have come to your hospital, killed everyone in my path and taken him out by force. But instead, I chose to do this peacefully. It would have been even more peaceful had Rincewind cooperated.

[ Rincewind's fault. Not Maeve's. Never Maeve's. ]

But I do not think you understand the gravity of this situation. So, allow me to show you.

[ Maeve flipped the gun in her hand so that the handle was facing her wizardly captive. ]

Rincewind took the gun from Maeve's hands with trembling fingers, giving Frederick Chilton a pleading look as he pressed it to his own temple -- knowing that if Chilton refused to hand over Theodore, he would have to pull the trigger and end his own life.

[ And remarkably, their driver continued on without a word or hesitation. Maeve chose this particular taxi for a reason. ]

[during Maeve's previous narratives, there had been a faint beacon of alarm in Rincewind's mind, the echo of a distant, mental shout. She'd subdued his will strongly enough for the dissonance to only matter in retrospect.

This time, the shouting is much closer. Rincewind howls mental curses at his traitorous limbs, watching as if in third person as he curls pale fingers around the gun's dark handle to accept the weight of it. There's a hiccup of hesitation, a bare twitch, but sure enough cold metal nestles through red hair, finding its home against the side of Rincewind's skull. As instructed, he trembles. She didn't need to command that.

Or the pleading. Rincewind's eyes say it all, a clear, wavering blue filling to a watery brim. Fear permeates his puppet-ed body. If there's anything to be said, he can't think of it. Seconds drip past like slow globs of wax from a candle nearly down to its wick. Rincewind stares at Chilton through the screen until it's too much, and then he pinches his eyes shut violently, left only with the sensation of uncaring metal pressed against him by his own hand.]

What. The fuck.

[Language he had only most recently used in William Walker's presence -- there was a certain quality that these people from the same world wrought forth. But no time was spent in that analysis; Chilton's breathing shallowed as Rincewind held the gun to his own head, puppeteered entirely by Maeve's words. His heart fluttered in a panic.

Unnatural, absurd -- a grotesque pantomime. He didn't utter anything else for the next for few seconds, his mind racing through strategy. She would kill him, he didn't doubt it. She would kill Rincewind like this, helpless and undignified, and he would remember that Chilton did nothing to stop it. The doctor's stomach twisted, churning in on itself.]

All right.

[A softly spoken concession. There was no negotiation. Chilton couldn't risk it.]

Yes, okay. I submit to your terms. Bring him to me, alive and safe, and -- and I will forfeit Flood.

Oh, darling. You must take me for a fool. I wouldn't dare dream to set foot in your hospital and be under your roof. I told you, you have no say in what happens. You will meet me at the far end of the city -- at the old, abandoned amphitheater. You and Theodore alone will come there where the exchange can happen. And should you need him sedate for the travel -- as I imagine he will try to fight once he sees an opening, utter the words and I quote: Soon this will feel like a distant dream. Until then, may you rest in a deep and dreamless slumber.

[ The command would likely work for anyone -- even those who had not been authorized to give commands simply because it's such an elaborate set of words that are unlikely to be spoken by a guest. But at the same time, it's a fail safe -- just in case someone outside of authority needed to sedate one of the hosts. It would no longer work on Maeve, of course. She was well above such commands any longer.

She slides her gaze toward Rincewind, finding little pity for the wizard now. He had a chance to remain on her good side. He failed in that. ]

You have two hours time, Doctor Chilton. And that's being generous. Should you not make it before the set deadline, well, let's hope what they say about the nanites reviving us imPorts is true.

[Rincewind only dares to open his eyes again once their conversation ends and the line goes silent. After a moment's hesitation, he tries to move his hand, and the limb responds as if he's had control of it all along. Like the past few moments of threat and fear were only some bad dream. He brings the gun down and stares at it. The thought to use against the woman next to him never once crosses his mind. He'd be too slow, or her voice would be quicker. Either way. Rincewind drops it to the floor with a grimace, very pointedly avoiding any look in Maeve's direction.]

Right, [he croaks thickly, then clears his throat.] Well. ...I don't think I've got cards with me, to pass the time.

[Two hours, she'd said. Just two hours. Chilton can make it in that time. The hospital isn't so far. They just have to get through this. It's only a hostage exchange, after all. Rincewind's never been a part of one (he's been a prisoner, sure, and a bounty once, but no one's ever found him valuable enough to trade before), but he understands them in theory. There won't be any need for this to end violently if they play this smart, and Chilton will.

He has to.]

[Here he was, with Teddy in tow, at the old, abandoned amphitheater. Chilton had taken precautions with Mr. Flood, as well as taken out a bit of his own frustration: he had brought his patient along in a straitjacket and ankle cuffs, still dressed in his inpatient pajamas. With a jarring dash of salt, he had found a brown cowboy hat and angled it prettily on top Teddy's head.

None of the exhibition was necessary, not really. When Maeve's sinister and Shakespearean command had no immediate effect, Chilton concluded either a sleeper trigger or a bewildering technique to psyche himself out. It wasn't for his own safety that he had secured his patient; Doctor Frederick Chilton could barely swallow his own fury in meeting Maeve's demands, and he needed to make someone feel as helpless as he did.

Hard to miss a willing target with those big blue eyes.]

We are here.

[It wasn't a whisper, but nor was it a shout. Just a civilized, disdained three words uttered as he nudged open the abandoned, musty door. Chilton hadn't intended to burn the entire two hours. He led Teddy in, gripping him by the shoulder, only seventy minutes into his two hour block.]

And where might you be?

[ Teddy hasn't relaxed since the buckles had closed on the jacket binding his arms, synethetic heart going at an adrenalised pace, closing like a hard fist on each retraction. Under the shadow of jaunty cowboy hat, the angular sweep of jawline is wound as tensely closed as a bear trap.

But he is not more angry than he is simply alert, despite the restraints interfering with his capacity to rabbit away. Out of the bounds of the hospital, out of a world of steel and glass and soft walls, he is a little more like himself.

Once within the shadow of the abandoned theatre, he jars his shoulder beneath Chilton's hand with intent to shake him off.

Not for any purpose, his shortened gait hindering his capacity to leave the doctor's side. Just for the principle of the thing. ]

[ Maeve, deciding to play up to the theatrics of the event, had rigged a spotlight to come up on the dark stage. One she turned on to likely reveal a lone Rincewind, perhaps holding the gun against his temple from the whispered narration. But either way, the madame sauntered over to the wizzard, taking the weapon from his hands and almost lovingly cradling him as she became the one to keep the gun at his temple.

Her eyes drift toward Theodore, to the state of Theodore -- trying to assess the outward damage and seeing none. ]

A man who makes certain to arrive to his appointments early. Impressive that you did not dawdle. Or perhaps Rincewind here finds it impressive that you care that much. Think of this as a trust exercise to know who your true friends are.

[ Maeve took the gun from Rincewind's temple and pointed it at Chilton. Just in case Rincewind had the bright idea to try and run off before the exchange was complete. Just in case Rincewind had one shred of concern for anyone other than himself. Perhaps their relationship was a two way street. As she looked between Chilton and Teddy, somehow she knew that he knew the truth. In which case, playing at humanity would do no good now. Her gaze inevitably settled on Teddy. ]

Analysis. Did the fine Doctor Chilton's treatments alter you in any way I should know about?

[Rincewind hasn't tried anything since the car; he's smarter than that. The key to survival is timing - you don't use your last-ditch effort until ditching is the only option left.

Even with the brim of his hat to shield his eyes, Rincewind has to blink through the light and floating dust motes to focus on the silhouette of the two figures approaching down the aisle. At Chilton's voice, relief, fear, and desperate hope jockey for position in a chest as tight as the fingers around Maeve's gleaming pistol.

Part him had been sure Chilton wouldn't come.]

She's -

[whatever remark he'd intended skips into silence and a surprised, bodily jerk as Maeve curls him in against her. Rincewind darts her a wide, rabbit-eyed look, arguably more discomfited by her mock affection than her gun. He can feel the strength in her limbs, solid as steel. There's a whiplash contrast between it and the sweet arch of her features and voice.

Maeve has everyone's attention now; this stage has likely never hosted a more deserving leading lady.]

I brought him here, I did what you wanted. Give me back my employee.

[His tone took a higher pitch; she had dropped the act. She outright entered Teddy Flood's system (Analysis, she had said). Chilton didn't move, didn't hazard a step closer. He didn't dare make any physical advancement, not yet.

He had his tongue to rely upon first.]

You didn't think I would know, did you? You had not anticipated that I would find out what he is.

[Only then did he give Teddy's shoulder a push. The slightest of physical aggression.]

And now you are willing to lay him bare for Rincewind to see?

[ At the sound of Maeve's voice, the humbled posture made so by the hug of the straitjacket shifts. The brim of his hat tipping up, squinting then towards the stage. The conflict is clear -- he doesn't want Maeve anywhere near the man pushing him forward (his steps going easy, a shuffle of his bare feet on wood), but lord, if she ain't exactly what he needs right now.

That look of protective anxiety blended with relief empties out of his expression as she says the magic words. His stance relaxes, passive. When he speaks, it lacks emotional affectation, retaining still the lilt of his accent and character; ]

No mechanical alterations have taken place. My core coding has not been altered since last adjustment, [ he says. (The Man in Black, flung against the wall like an oversized rag doll. No, the change that enabled that came before.) ] And neither have my behavioural attributes, scripts, and routines.

But I remember things, [ he adds. ] More things.

He is fine. [The sour sarcasm plucked at the corners of his mouth as Chilton kept his eyes on Maeve.] Pristine and dandy, his core coding unaltered.

[Since his last adjustment. What an interesting little tidbit, and one that Chilton could not immediately investigate. Something of a pity, but he was in no position to renegotiate this highway robbery.]

Now. Give me back Rincewind. Those were our terms, you'll remember.

[ What things -- were the words on the tip of Maeve's tongue until Chilton interrupted that thought with his voice. Brisk and buzzing like a pesky fly. She gave him a look of irritation. For a man who was staring down the barrel of her pistol, he certainly was being obnoxious about it. ]

I remember my own terms, sweetheart. But the more you try to tell me what to do, the more inclined I am to rebel against it. Call it my awkward teenage years of coming into my own.

[ But Maeve stepped back from Rincewind and pushed him forward. Go on, wizzard. Run to your master. Maeve was satisfied that Chilton had not infiltrated Theodore's thoughts beyond awakening some newer memories. ]

That will be all, Theodore. [ Releasing him from his analysis mode, her attention goes back to Chilton as though she's a parent talking to a daycare teacher. ] Do you have his belongings or shall I have Rincewind bring those to me?

[much of this scene is lost on Rincewind - he still has to remind himself sometimes that imps aren't heating the food in microwaves, so the concept of robots is still somewhat beyond him. His eyes flicker between Teddy and Chilton, absolutely bewildered by this odd play. Apparently Teddy's not human - he's picked up that much. Still an all right person, though, in Rincewind's book.

Just with terrible taste in friends.

He stumbles at the shove, risks a glance to make sure there's no obvious trick, and then is down off the stage in a leap and a sprint, grabbing for the arm of Chilton's suit.]

We need to get out of earshot, [he whispers as low and urgently as he can, tugging at the doctor's sleeve.] Now.

[the woman's fickle, dangerous and reactive, and Rincewind would rather not risk seeing his friend accidentally set her or her gun off. Maybe he could free Chilton from her voice, maybe he couldn't, but wouldn't going home be so much nicer than finding that out?

He has the hysterical urge to laugh at the absurdity of Maeve's question, but resists, flashing her a frightened, incredulous look instead. Wizzard Post, is it? Hah ha. What an imagination the woman has.]

I'll tell you what, [he says, trying to encourage Chilton to back with him towards the exit,] if your friend's missing anything, I'll send him a gift card for an entirely new bloody wardrobe.

[ Coming out of analysis isn't so dramatic, not for Teddy, well practiced at being mechanical and all -- his posture sags ever so, returning to the reality of standing here in his fancy hospital pyjamas, the rough cloth of the buckled jacket over it. His attention goes to Rincewind, tracking his speedy progression passed him, back to the doctor.

Unable to move in kind, he stands like a prey animal caught in a trap, anticipating release, even though he suspects either man to be coward enough to just leave him here. ]

My gun, [ he says, low and a little quiet. ] Else I'll be coming by for it.

[ Given the circumstance, that may be more comical than threatening, and his tone lacks viciousness, giving more to a gentle implication that the good doctor would really rather he not -- fool him once, and such. ]

[Out of earshot. From the hostage footage, it was obvious that Maeve was mind-controlling Rincewind, and he had just confirmed it in that breath how she had. Auditory command.

Chilton grabbed at Rincewind's nearest forearm, his eyes wide with comprehension. They needed to get out of earshot.]

Come and get it, then! Walk-ins welcomed.

[Chilton sneered over his shoulder as he turned to run, halfway dragging Rincewind out the theatrical gate without giving him proper warning of the fleeing. Warning or not, it was a tactic they could both agree upon.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Someone painted "April Fool" in big black letters

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