"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."
[sometimes. Fine. Some nights he'll probably find an excuse, but he's all right agreeing for now, because that's not the focus anymore. Now the focus - ]
You talked to Lord Baelish, did you? Did he sound all right? ...Coherent?
I do suppose you may actually be the best to help, with you being the... priestess of light and all.
The poor man has a drug problem, you see. The whole thing's rather messy, he's so ashamed of it he can't feel he can reach out. I've tried to offer advice of course, but he won't listen to me. He's convinced himself I hate him.
[should have made that conversation private, Petyr. Technology: it's a bitch.]
A... 'drug' problem? Those are medicines, are they not?
[L'Arachel is pure and innocent and also naive.]
Whatever is the problem? I am not a priestess, but you're still quite correct; I am a healer of unprecedented talent and very well suited to help with such matters.
We have alcoholics, certainly. Brigands in particular are quite fond of that foul concoction. But... heavens, you aren't saying that Lord Baelish is among their number, are you? He's such a pleasant man!
[how do you lead a horse to water that has never seen a river?]
It's... a bit different. [patiently.] Bit worse, actually. Perhaps look it up on your device later? - But anyway, I was only thinking perhaps you could get through to him. Preach a bit, maybe. Er. Tell him how great serving the Light is.
[or what...ever it is priestess princesses do. As long as it will annoy the man to no end, Rincewind will be satisfied.]
You would have to be subtle, of course. If you mention me he'll know what you're up to and will refuse your help. But I do think you're one of the only people who could. ...Unless you know some other noble women who might lend their aid?
Worse, you say? Oh my. I never would have guessed that such a horrid vice could tarnish the soul of such a noble Lord!
But fear not! It is as I have said: I am a healer of the highest calibre, and that goes for souls as well as bodies! No one could possibly be better suited to this task. I shall guide him back onto the path of righteousness, or my name isn't L'Arachel, beautiful banisher of darkness!
--Now, are you quite certain he would reject aid if he knew you were involved? I would dearly love to invite him along to some of our upcoming dinners...
[lucky this is voice, because there's no way Rincewind could hope to disguise the look of malevolent glee taking over his lips.]
And it's a shame, it really is, but he's convinced himself I'm out to get him. I'm afraid I'll just have to keep my distance for the sake of his healing. It's quite the sacrifice, I know, but it's one I'm willing to make. For him.
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[voice]
Re: [voice]
[sometimes. Fine. Some nights he'll probably find an excuse, but he's all right agreeing for now, because that's not the focus anymore. Now the focus - ]
You talked to Lord Baelish, did you? Did he sound all right? ...Coherent?
[- is fucking over Baelish.]
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[Rincewind allows a moment for drama.]
Only, I know he hasn't been seeking help for it himself, and I have been concerned for him...
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The poor man has a drug problem, you see. The whole thing's rather messy, he's so ashamed of it he can't feel he can reach out. I've tried to offer advice of course, but he won't listen to me. He's convinced himself I hate him.
[should have made that conversation private, Petyr. Technology: it's a bitch.]
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[L'Arachel is pure and innocent and also naive.]
Whatever is the problem? I am not a priestess, but you're still quite correct; I am a healer of unprecedented talent and very well suited to help with such matters.
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Oh, no, it's - have you alcoholics in your world? Addicts?
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It's... a bit different. [patiently.] Bit worse, actually. Perhaps look it up on your device later? - But anyway, I was only thinking perhaps you could get through to him. Preach a bit, maybe. Er. Tell him how great serving the Light is.
[or what...ever it is priestess princesses do. As long as it will annoy the man to no end, Rincewind will be satisfied.]
You would have to be subtle, of course. If you mention me he'll know what you're up to and will refuse your help. But I do think you're one of the only people who could. ...Unless you know some other noble women who might lend their aid?
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But fear not! It is as I have said: I am a healer of the highest calibre, and that goes for souls as well as bodies! No one could possibly be better suited to this task. I shall guide him back onto the path of righteousness, or my name isn't L'Arachel, beautiful banisher of darkness!
--Now, are you quite certain he would reject aid if he knew you were involved? I would dearly love to invite him along to some of our upcoming dinners...
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[lucky this is voice, because there's no way Rincewind could hope to disguise the look of malevolent glee taking over his lips.]
And it's a shame, it really is, but he's convinced himself I'm out to get him. I'm afraid I'll just have to keep my distance for the sake of his healing. It's quite the sacrifice, I know, but it's one I'm willing to make. For him.
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[Rincewind you are horrible and you should feel horrible.]
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I've nothing but faith that you'll drag him back to health, no matter how that lying, demon drug addiction fights you. Gods bless you, princess.
See you this weekend for dinner.