"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."
[and for as casual as Rincewind sounds about it, he really is relieved to hear that. The coiled springs which are his muscles lose a hint of tension; Will really isn't here to kick him out tonight.]
What, me? Take care of myself in a well-stocked home boasting both water and electricity? Oh, I suppose I'll manage somehow.
[Rincewind allows a smirk.] I wouldn't hold out any hope for Jeff though, if I were you. Perhaps you might want to schedule a caregiver to come 'round every few days.
[He tries to fight it, he really does, but all his efforts can't hold back the floodgates threatening to open. Rincewind gets a small smile, clearly in the place of one much bigger if Will wasn't biting his cheeks.
Rincewind was going to fit in here just fine.]
Jeff is like a brother to me. I love him. [Will's words are just shy of accusatory; there's a twinkle in his eye. He isn't actually mad. He moves to the desk, glancing at what there is to display.
Some would say Frederick Chilton and Will Graham were brothers, too, and...well. Two souls, alas, are dwelling in my breast, and one is striving to forsake its brother. It's all very tragic.] So I'll leave you some extra money in case of emergencies. If you keep the kitchen with something edible in it, he's sure to graze. He can manage that. I have faith in him.
[He turns back around, still keeping that smile from growing. Not a Jeff's expense, and not at...]
I'm very glad you decided to come back, Rincewind.
Well obviously it would be a quality caretaker, no one was suggesting otherwise. [Smirkity McSmirkface over here.] But I suppose the money will be fine. He does know how to boil an egg.
[spoken as a wizard who may or may not snag one from every now and again.
The desk is a bit of a crowded mess at the moment. Mostly sewing supplies, with fabrics, some spilled sequins, and a few (thankfully closed) tubes of glitter. Two books from the Nonah Library on psychiatry sit next to a small stack of comics from FanPort Rincewind hasn't decided what to do with. (Probably they should just be thrown in the Luggage and forgotten about.) His file is there too, half-buried under some brown cloth he was going to use to patch his trousers.]
Oh. [the smirk dies abruptly. Rincewind blinks, surprised; statements of affection have never felt familiar or comfortable.
But they do feel good. He nods after a moment.] Well, I'm... rather glad I did as well. So, ah - thank you. For letting me.
[Statements of affection aren't familiar or comfortable for Will, either. Mostly because the statements of affection he got for a long while came from a cannibalistic douche who wanted to be his bestie and parts of the world considered them husbands, but you know. It happens.
There's also a balance. When it comes to emotions, they're best used like spice. Just enough. Otherwise it's too hot and people start blubbering, and there are tears, and snotty noses, and sometimes in a happy way but also possibly in an outraged way that leads to brutal murders. Ain't nobody got time for that shit.]
Yeah. [He is getting out of emotional territory now, and fast, no matter how awkward that sort of response may seem. He glances down at the floor a moment, smile still in place. Less tense, small but real, and then he nods and makes his way back to the door.] There's a hidey hole magnet on the side of the fridge. We'll put some money in there before we leave.
[barring an unforseen disaster (which, to be fair, it is Rincewind), he probably won't touch it. In fact, he's just received a rather large check - compensation for his unpleasant business with Miles Naismith. The wizard has invested it with a man who claims to have the ability to make such numbers grow larger, which Rincewind trusts just enough to try out with the vast majority of the sum. Given how slippery money tends to be in his own hands, he figured it was worth the attempt.
His hope is that when the number's big enough, he can gift most of it back to Will and April. And Jeff too, Rincewind supposes. The house as a whole. Just to return the favor they've done him, in letting him feel he belongs somewhere.
That's important no matter what universe you're in.]
Have a safe trip. Be careful. [his tone tries to straddle the line between casual remark and earnest advice.] And I hope you both enjoy yourselves, of course.
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[and for as casual as Rincewind sounds about it, he really is relieved to hear that. The coiled springs which are his muscles lose a hint of tension; Will really isn't here to kick him out tonight.]
What, me? Take care of myself in a well-stocked home boasting both water and electricity? Oh, I suppose I'll manage somehow.
[Rincewind allows a smirk.] I wouldn't hold out any hope for Jeff though, if I were you. Perhaps you might want to schedule a caregiver to come 'round every few days.
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Rincewind was going to fit in here just fine.]
Jeff is like a brother to me. I love him. [Will's words are just shy of accusatory; there's a twinkle in his eye. He isn't actually mad. He moves to the desk, glancing at what there is to display.
Some would say Frederick Chilton and Will Graham were brothers, too, and...well. Two souls, alas, are dwelling in my breast, and one is striving to forsake its brother. It's all very tragic.] So I'll leave you some extra money in case of emergencies. If you keep the kitchen with something edible in it, he's sure to graze. He can manage that. I have faith in him.
[He turns back around, still keeping that smile from growing. Not a Jeff's expense, and not at...]
I'm very glad you decided to come back, Rincewind.
[The house feels balanced again.]
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[spoken as a wizard who may or may not snag one from every now and again.
The desk is a bit of a crowded mess at the moment. Mostly sewing supplies, with fabrics, some spilled sequins, and a few (thankfully closed) tubes of glitter. Two books from the Nonah Library on psychiatry sit next to a small stack of comics from FanPort Rincewind hasn't decided what to do with. (Probably they should just be thrown in the Luggage and forgotten about.) His file is there too, half-buried under some brown cloth he was going to use to patch his trousers.]
Oh. [the smirk dies abruptly. Rincewind blinks, surprised; statements of affection have never felt familiar or comfortable.
But they do feel good. He nods after a moment.] Well, I'm... rather glad I did as well. So, ah - thank you. For letting me.
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There's also a balance. When it comes to emotions, they're best used like spice. Just enough. Otherwise it's too hot and people start blubbering, and there are tears, and snotty noses, and sometimes in a happy way but also possibly in an outraged way that leads to brutal murders. Ain't nobody got time for that shit.]
Yeah. [He is getting out of emotional territory now, and fast, no matter how awkward that sort of response may seem. He glances down at the floor a moment, smile still in place. Less tense, small but real, and then he nods and makes his way back to the door.] There's a hidey hole magnet on the side of the fridge. We'll put some money in there before we leave.
[Or a raccoon will. Potato, potahtoe.]
Have a good night.
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[barring an unforseen disaster (which, to be fair, it is Rincewind), he probably won't touch it. In fact, he's just received a rather large check - compensation for his unpleasant business with Miles Naismith. The wizard has invested it with a man who claims to have the ability to make such numbers grow larger, which Rincewind trusts just enough to try out with the vast majority of the sum. Given how slippery money tends to be in his own hands, he figured it was worth the attempt.
His hope is that when the number's big enough, he can gift most of it back to Will and April. And Jeff too, Rincewind supposes. The house as a whole. Just to return the favor they've done him, in letting him feel he belongs somewhere.
That's important no matter what universe you're in.]
Have a safe trip. Be careful. [his tone tries to straddle the line between casual remark and earnest advice.] And I hope you both enjoy yourselves, of course.