"Er... yes, okay, I suppose I should tell you that if you're trying to reach me I'm not here, and if you're trying to reach me because you want to do something involving pointy bits of metal or otherwise painful objects, I'm never going to be here. So sorry."
We're both physically appealing and highly intelligent, so yes, we are something alike.
[Chilton, with his nearly emptied glass, toasted to that -- then refilled, and doubled his toast.]
Opposites might attract, but that doesn't necessitate relationship survival. [A sly reference to his opinion of the upcoming nuptials.] I think you will be perfectly fine avoiding the reckless and the sadistic. Provided that you -- ah -- are allowed to court.
[That brought another juvenile smirk to his mouth. Wizards, potentially not allowed to court? No one warmed the imPorn community!]
Why? Is there someone you've got your eye on? Is she -- he? -- quite lovely?
[Rincewind matches the toast, offering an awkward smile. He also offers:]
I do think she'll come back. For what it's worth. I mean I know I tend to look on the more - [depressingly accurate] - unpleasant side of things, but I do think a better outcome is possible, in this case.
[he certainly hopes so, for Chilton's sake.
It's more than the wine inspiring a pink flush on Rincewind's ears and neck at the playful question, the joking smirk.]
No, no, I wouldn't - I mean, I mentioned that sort of thing isn't allowed to wizards anyway, but also I just haven't. Wouldn't.
...Baelish seems to think I ought to discuss it with you. [Rincewind's mouth screws around his next drink, muttering:] Of course the bloody brothel keeper would think so.
[And he did. It was the sort of hope that Chilton was too frightened to voice himself.]
He -- ah, oh yes. [A quiet pinkening around Chilton's ears.] I do remember Petyr mentioning his prior occupation. Once or twice. I wouldn't think too much of it, he probably tends to understand people through their desires. Physical desires. And if you have... None... It likely flummoxes him.
- And it's not that I don't, I'm not a virgin or anything. [quickly defensive.] I mean... all right, I probably don't think about it as much as other people, but I tend to have all my focus taken by the various people who want to hurt me.
[and noticing those pink ears:]
Does it bother you too when he brings it up? That little occupation of his.
[Chilton cleared his throat, looking into the wine puddle he left in his glass.]
A vestige of his former world, I imagine. It is... Unfortunate. But he is learning about modern propriety.
[More like Baelish didn't use his more unsavory implications to insult Chilton, unlike with Rincewind.]
I certainly hope fewer people are trying to kill you here than in your old world. Maybe that statistic alone would allow you to breathe a little easier? I daresay no one ought to deny you the happiness of coupling, should you want to pursue such a thing.
Oh, yes. Whatever else, Lord Baelish is a quick study.
[and don't mind Rincewind, he'll just break the seal on this pizza box; the smell teased him the whole way over here.]
Mmm, not kill, no. ...I don't think. [he gives a philosophical wave of his pizza slice, follows it with another drink of wine.] I mean, I did get chased onto a roof by a demon last week, gods knows what could have happened there, but mostly this world has been a whole mess of other dangers. I also suppose I've some dubious protection now, at least where death's concerned.
So, you know. Perhaps. [he swipes his sleeve over his mouth, swallowing another bite.] Jeff has convinced himself he's going to set me on some sort of date. I don't suppose I can hide here if he sends some monstrous thug to my door for a laugh?
[Some dubious protection now. Of course, Chilton thought Lucifer initially -- but a moment later, he realized that it was quite possible that Rincewind was speaking of the psychiatrist. Given their interactions as of late, at least.
More reason to underscore dubious.]
I doubt that Winger would even speak to a monstrous thug, much less play matchmaker to one. [Said Chilton, after a thoughtful poke at the pizza. He frowned at it, as if contemplating grabbing a knife and fork.
He decided against it.]
Anticipate your date to be at least moderately attractive.
[The wizard's still convinced this is going to be some gigantic prank against him, of course, but narrowing the avenues of how is helpful.
(And he may be surreptitiously watching Chilton to make sure the man doesn't hate the pizza he got him. Just to make sure.)]
I didn't get his name. Saw some terribly magical rune on his arm, he preferred we talk about my noticing it and I preferred we not, I ran, he chased me, then we ended up on a roof and had a bit of a chat before the Luggage came. Rather tame, all things considered.
...Is the pizza all right? [unable to keep from asking.] I told them not to put meat on half for you.
Oh -- yes, yes. I just. [A beat.] My hands are so clean.
[Something Frederick Chilton so rarely got to say, surely he could savor this moment. But, perhaps begrudgingly, he picked up a non-meaty slice at the crust and pinched it between two fingers.]
Rather tame, you say. But what if there's some reprisal? I know you've already thought of that.
[Rincewind only smiles, just pleased that he hasn't failed Chilton in some massive way, like having them put a mushroom he's allergic to on there or something.]
He teleported away before the Luggage could maim him, so there isn't exactly much to reprise against. [looking back, he's still not sure exactly how all that happened, or what Dean thought he knew.] The Luggage will deal with him if he somehow finds me and tries something.
Why is it you don't eat meat? [abrupt, but it's a question he's had since Raina explained vegetarianism to him.] Do you really not like it?
[Ripe for innuendo, thank goodness Jeff wasn't invited.]
But I can't digest animal proteins to the same capacity as I could, previously. I... had a kidney removed. Involuntary. Along with some intestinal tract.
[Chilton stuck out his tongue, guiding the tip of the pizza towards it.]
[luckily Rincewind has already finished his first slice, because he doubts he'll be able to get another down now. He's torn between watching Chilton eat like a man who has never held food before and processing the outrageous, distressing claim the man just made regarding the state of his innards.]
In- Involuntary? Someone really - ?
[oh gods. Oh gods. Rincewind's features squirm in a nauseated expression, trying dearly not to imagine it.]
In my world. [He tactfully decided to gloss over the fact that Abel Gideon had gotten his hands on Chilton twice, once in Baltimore and once in Heropa. The latter didn't involve organ removal, however.
Gideon had surgically cut off bits of Chilton's face and replaced it with metal cogs. Like wind-up clockwork.]
Baltimore is, apparently, an unusually violent place. I've been comparing data between mine and this one regarding serial killers -- while they exist in both, mine seemed to have more psychopaths diffused into the populace.
[A light shrug followed.]
If, ah, if it had happened here. The damage isn't necessarily permanent. Between healers and the homeworld default.
But every time I export back home and return, I will have my kidney missing again. Bit traumatic, actually.
I'll avoid any visits then. [and he can't help but think again that Chilton would have less issues if he weren't so keen on treating psychopaths. Rincewind guesses there's at least a sixty percent chance the person who took the liberty of liberating his organs was a patient.
But those aren't helpful thoughts - certainly not for the man who's gone through something so horrific.]
A bit traumatic? That's a bit of an understatement, isn't it? I don't think I'd ever leave my room again if I'd gone through something like that. So you - you haven't had it healed since coming back then? That or your, well, your other injury? The one from the assault you mentioned?
[Reflexively, Chilton's hand went to the left side of his face -- the cheek that had a bullet penetrate it. His prosthetics were fit in nicely, snugly, his face looked perfectly normal, but he couldn't help his flinching at the allusion.
Rincewind had known, at least vaguely, about it. Chilton had taken the allergy medicine quite keenly.]
We reset when we return home -- so to speak. From what I have observed. Typically our memories remain, yes, but not always -- and much less the physical discrepancies. Our original timeline has some sort of precedence.
[He finished off his glass and poured another one.]
[the gesture catches his attention, but leaves more questions than anything else. If it was Chilton's face that was hurt - and that looks the sort of flinch a wounded man would make - wouldn't there be a scar? Unless it's something stranger; deeper.
Rincewind shifts his weight, discomfited.]
No. No, I imagine you wouldn't. I certainly can't blame you there. I've never had to to deal with something like that. [a beat.] Well, all right, scars, sure, I've plenty of those, but not something that... leaves that sort of lasting, erm. Damage. ...I'm sorry, is what I mean.
[and he's obviously flailing in his attempt to make this less awkward, so he's going to take a minute to empty his glass down his throat. Excuse him.]
Have you got a living room? D'you want to sit down? [please, gods, anything to inspire a change in subject.]
[And all the while Rincewind spoke, Chilton was just watching him, drinking one long wine-filled sip.]
Oh -- yes.
[After his company indicated interest in the living room.]
This way. So I'm to understand that you've been rather... Lucky. Superficial scars, well, we all have those. Will has about eighty. But, as you said, the paucity of lasting damage is what's so crucial.
[he makes sure to fill his own glass again before following. He's not sure what he was expecting - more cushions, maybe - but the room looks devastatingly empty to him, the minimalist style hard and cold.
No wonder Chilton doesn't want to be alone in a house like this; it must echo.
There's a twitch at Rincewind's mouth following the word 'lucky'.]
I assure you, having the Lady's attention [if indeed he even does - he's never been fully convinced] is something of a mixed gift. I'd be quicker to point a finger at coincidence and a keen sense of when to run. There's a reason most of my scars are on my back.
[or psychological.
He settles awkwardly on the nearest chair, smoothing out his robe one-handed and noticing he'll need to take a needle and thread to the leg of his trousers again - one of the dogs must've accidentally clawed it.]
You know, it's a little odd being a home without a million animals now. I keep looking around expecting to see fur on things. You've no pets?
[Intoned Chilton, unknowingly echoing that line of thought. It was a statement he might have been more reticent about speaking upon -- but wine was a fine lubricant.]
Ah. [He looked startled at the question.] No, I do not have any pets. I am not much of a pet person, quite honestly.
[But it wasn't as if he declined animal company out of reaction -- animals seemed to like him well enough, especially dogs. Or perhaps Will's dogs had been trained to get happy at the scent of blood.]
I'm not fond of children, either.
[And categorizing them in the same way as pets probably indicated a lot.]
[Rincewind glances up quickly, surprised to hear the thought spoken aloud. He doesnt comment, however; this isn't a session.
Or if it is, he's pretty sure it's not for him.]
No? They are a bit messy. - Pets, I mean. Though I guess children are as well. Is that it? [he does have vague memories of some annoyance towards the psychiatrist, when he'd been a child - he's not particularly surprised the man doesn't relate to them.]
I wouldn't have said so, before coming here. It never really occurred to me to have an animal, and I have that unfortunate habit of traipsing across various dangerous countries. ...But I've come to like the dogs.
And I have a turtle now. [there's an embarrassed smile at that.] Turturibus. "Bus" for short.
[Chilton had medical training, he could identify an ablative.]
I suppose a turtle would suit you. Cautious and guarded little things, but they tend to do quite well don't they? Humans tends to project onto their pets -- much easier when there are already similarities.
Lat - ? Oh, right, yes. [that's what 'Latatian' is here, that's right. Rincewind nods.] I suppose I am. Not that I don't appreciate things about other languages as well, but La...tin is something of a wizard's language. You know it as well then?
[he squirms against the chair in some useless attempt to make it more comfortable. Why did you design your home to feel like an art gallery, Chilton?]
I wish this one stopped being so suicidal, then. Although I'm starting to suspect an eyesight problem. [seriously, he has never met a small animal so damn determined to walk over ledges or into traffic. Bus may need to talk to someone.]
What would you have? [he waves a quick hand.] I mean, yes, all right, you aren't a pet person - but let's say you had to care for one. What would it be?
[Rincewind's face blossoms into a beaming grin. He's only ever had the one name - he's not even sure if it's a first or a last, and let's be honest, it's not the best as far as names go - but... but it's sweet, the idea someone would give it to something else. Because of him. Out of fondness.
He's still smiling a moment later, genuinely warmed. The wine helps.]
I think I could see you with a cat better though. You're more cat than reptile. - Curious, and all.
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[Chilton, with his nearly emptied glass, toasted to that -- then refilled, and doubled his toast.]
Opposites might attract, but that doesn't necessitate relationship survival. [A sly reference to his opinion of the upcoming nuptials.] I think you will be perfectly fine avoiding the reckless and the sadistic. Provided that you -- ah -- are allowed to court.
[That brought another juvenile smirk to his mouth. Wizards, potentially not allowed to court? No one warmed the imPorn community!]
Why? Is there someone you've got your eye on? Is she -- he? -- quite lovely?
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I do think she'll come back. For what it's worth. I mean I know I tend to look on the more - [depressingly accurate] - unpleasant side of things, but I do think a better outcome is possible, in this case.
[he certainly hopes so, for Chilton's sake.
It's more than the wine inspiring a pink flush on Rincewind's ears and neck at the playful question, the joking smirk.]
No, no, I wouldn't - I mean, I mentioned that sort of thing isn't allowed to wizards anyway, but also I just haven't. Wouldn't.
...Baelish seems to think I ought to discuss it with you. [Rincewind's mouth screws around his next drink, muttering:] Of course the bloody brothel keeper would think so.
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[And he did. It was the sort of hope that Chilton was too frightened to voice himself.]
He -- ah, oh yes. [A quiet pinkening around Chilton's ears.] I do remember Petyr mentioning his prior occupation. Once or twice. I wouldn't think too much of it, he probably tends to understand people through their desires. Physical desires. And if you have... None... It likely flummoxes him.
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[flatly stated and punctuated with a drink.]
- And it's not that I don't, I'm not a virgin or anything. [quickly defensive.] I mean... all right, I probably don't think about it as much as other people, but I tend to have all my focus taken by the various people who want to hurt me.
[and noticing those pink ears:]
Does it bother you too when he brings it up? That little occupation of his.
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A vestige of his former world, I imagine. It is... Unfortunate. But he is learning about modern propriety.
[More like Baelish didn't use his more unsavory implications to insult Chilton, unlike with Rincewind.]
I certainly hope fewer people are trying to kill you here than in your old world. Maybe that statistic alone would allow you to breathe a little easier? I daresay no one ought to deny you the happiness of coupling, should you want to pursue such a thing.
Not even Lucifer.
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[and don't mind Rincewind, he'll just break the seal on this pizza box; the smell teased him the whole way over here.]
Mmm, not kill, no. ...I don't think. [he gives a philosophical wave of his pizza slice, follows it with another drink of wine.] I mean, I did get chased onto a roof by a demon last week, gods knows what could have happened there, but mostly this world has been a whole mess of other dangers. I also suppose I've some dubious protection now, at least where death's concerned.
So, you know. Perhaps. [he swipes his sleeve over his mouth, swallowing another bite.] Jeff has convinced himself he's going to set me on some sort of date. I don't suppose I can hide here if he sends some monstrous thug to my door for a laugh?
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More reason to underscore dubious.]
I doubt that Winger would even speak to a monstrous thug, much less play matchmaker to one. [Said Chilton, after a thoughtful poke at the pizza. He frowned at it, as if contemplating grabbing a knife and fork.
He decided against it.]
Anticipate your date to be at least moderately attractive.
[A beat.]
What was that about a demon?
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[The wizard's still convinced this is going to be some gigantic prank against him, of course, but narrowing the avenues of how is helpful.
(And he may be surreptitiously watching Chilton to make sure the man doesn't hate the pizza he got him. Just to make sure.)]
I didn't get his name. Saw some terribly magical rune on his arm, he preferred we talk about my noticing it and I preferred we not, I ran, he chased me, then we ended up on a roof and had a bit of a chat before the Luggage came. Rather tame, all things considered.
...Is the pizza all right? [unable to keep from asking.] I told them not to put meat on half for you.
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[Something Frederick Chilton so rarely got to say, surely he could savor this moment. But, perhaps begrudgingly, he picked up a non-meaty slice at the crust and pinched it between two fingers.]
Rather tame, you say. But what if there's some reprisal? I know you've already thought of that.
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He teleported away before the Luggage could maim him, so there isn't exactly much to reprise against. [looking back, he's still not sure exactly how all that happened, or what Dean thought he knew.] The Luggage will deal with him if he somehow finds me and tries something.
Why is it you don't eat meat? [abrupt, but it's a question he's had since Raina explained vegetarianism to him.] Do you really not like it?
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[Ripe for innuendo, thank goodness Jeff wasn't invited.]
But I can't digest animal proteins to the same capacity as I could, previously. I... had a kidney removed. Involuntary. Along with some intestinal tract.
[Chilton stuck out his tongue, guiding the tip of the pizza towards it.]
They were taken from me.
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In- Involuntary? Someone really - ?
[oh gods. Oh gods. Rincewind's features squirm in a nauseated expression, trying dearly not to imagine it.]
Was it... here? Or in your world?
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Gideon had surgically cut off bits of Chilton's face and replaced it with metal cogs. Like wind-up clockwork.]
Baltimore is, apparently, an unusually violent place. I've been comparing data between mine and this one regarding serial killers -- while they exist in both, mine seemed to have more psychopaths diffused into the populace.
[A light shrug followed.]
If, ah, if it had happened here. The damage isn't necessarily permanent. Between healers and the homeworld default.
But every time I export back home and return, I will have my kidney missing again. Bit traumatic, actually.
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But those aren't helpful thoughts - certainly not for the man who's gone through something so horrific.]
A bit traumatic? That's a bit of an understatement, isn't it? I don't think I'd ever leave my room again if I'd gone through something like that. So you - you haven't had it healed since coming back then? That or your, well, your other injury? The one from the assault you mentioned?
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Rincewind had known, at least vaguely, about it. Chilton had taken the allergy medicine quite keenly.]
We reset when we return home -- so to speak. From what I have observed. Typically our memories remain, yes, but not always -- and much less the physical discrepancies. Our original timeline has some sort of precedence.
[He finished off his glass and poured another one.]
I don't want to suffer that loss again.
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Rincewind shifts his weight, discomfited.]
No. No, I imagine you wouldn't. I certainly can't blame you there. I've never had to to deal with something like that. [a beat.] Well, all right, scars, sure, I've plenty of those, but not something that... leaves that sort of lasting, erm. Damage. ...I'm sorry, is what I mean.
[and he's obviously flailing in his attempt to make this less awkward, so he's going to take a minute to empty his glass down his throat. Excuse him.]
Have you got a living room? D'you want to sit down? [please, gods, anything to inspire a change in subject.]
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Oh -- yes.
[After his company indicated interest in the living room.]
This way. So I'm to understand that you've been rather... Lucky. Superficial scars, well, we all have those. Will has about eighty. But, as you said, the paucity of lasting damage is what's so crucial.
I suppose not all of us can be fortune's son.
[The turn of phrase enviously on his tongue.]
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No wonder Chilton doesn't want to be alone in a house like this; it must echo.
There's a twitch at Rincewind's mouth following the word 'lucky'.]
I assure you, having the Lady's attention [if indeed he even does - he's never been fully convinced] is something of a mixed gift. I'd be quicker to point a finger at coincidence and a keen sense of when to run. There's a reason most of my scars are on my back.
[or psychological.
He settles awkwardly on the nearest chair, smoothing out his robe one-handed and noticing he'll need to take a needle and thread to the leg of his trousers again - one of the dogs must've accidentally clawed it.]
You know, it's a little odd being a home without a million animals now. I keep looking around expecting to see fur on things. You've no pets?
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[Intoned Chilton, unknowingly echoing that line of thought. It was a statement he might have been more reticent about speaking upon -- but wine was a fine lubricant.]
Ah. [He looked startled at the question.] No, I do not have any pets. I am not much of a pet person, quite honestly.
[But it wasn't as if he declined animal company out of reaction -- animals seemed to like him well enough, especially dogs. Or perhaps Will's dogs had been trained to get happy at the scent of blood.]
I'm not fond of children, either.
[And categorizing them in the same way as pets probably indicated a lot.]
Are you?
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Or if it is, he's pretty sure it's not for him.]
No? They are a bit messy. - Pets, I mean. Though I guess children are as well. Is that it? [he does have vague memories of some annoyance towards the psychiatrist, when he'd been a child - he's not particularly surprised the man doesn't relate to them.]
I wouldn't have said so, before coming here. It never really occurred to me to have an animal, and I have that unfortunate habit of traipsing across various dangerous countries. ...But I've come to like the dogs.
And I have a turtle now. [there's an embarrassed smile at that.] Turturibus. "Bus" for short.
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[Chilton had medical training, he could identify an ablative.]
I suppose a turtle would suit you. Cautious and guarded little things, but they tend to do quite well don't they? Humans tends to project onto their pets -- much easier when there are already similarities.
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[he squirms against the chair in some useless attempt to make it more comfortable. Why did you design your home to feel like an art gallery, Chilton?]
I wish this one stopped being so suicidal, then. Although I'm starting to suspect an eyesight problem. [seriously, he has never met a small animal so damn determined to walk over ledges or into traffic. Bus may need to talk to someone.]
What would you have? [he waves a quick hand.] I mean, yes, all right, you aren't a pet person - but let's say you had to care for one. What would it be?
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[Chilton would have called that Darwinism at work, but if Rincewind wanted to blame poor eyesight, then so be it.]
What would I have? [Incredulity colored his tone.] Oh -- I don't know. A cat? A lizard? Something low maintenance.
[The fact that he humored the question spoke to his enjoyment of Rincewind's company.]
Had I a lizard, I'd name it after you.
[A lizard wizzard.]
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[Rincewind's face blossoms into a beaming grin. He's only ever had the one name - he's not even sure if it's a first or a last, and let's be honest, it's not the best as far as names go - but... but it's sweet, the idea someone would give it to something else. Because of him. Out of fondness.
He's still smiling a moment later, genuinely warmed. The wine helps.]
I think I could see you with a cat better though. You're more cat than reptile. - Curious, and all.
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[Asked the man who once called Rincewind murine.]
I suppose that has its benefit -- you begin to classify patterns, yes? Not so dissimilar to basic psychiatric diagnosis.
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