"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."
I hadn't done the same. I was in the same nightmare world as you and I had not done the same. Just because I wasn't caught -- chased but never caught --
[He stopped, abruptly. Blaming Rincewind for his own misfortune wasn't the track he wanted to run, Chilton simply wanted him to know what it was like -- to understand the danger in trusting fair-haired men who obsessed (even lusted) after a magnetic third party. The peril in being over enthusiastic with an untried, unknown individual couldn't be explained enough.]
I know trauma. I know betrayal -- intimately. I -- he had my very face collapse in! He had me shot in the face. [A different he, but one of whom Chilton had already been projecting onto Jorah.] I was further down his personal hierarchy than I had thought. A mere play thing. Just as you are with Mormont.
[too many emotions clash at once for Rincewind to say anything at first. There's a lull.
Jorah's not the same as your Hannibal. [his voice sounds weaker than he intended.] You can't even bloody well compare the two, you - you can't.
He probably doesn't care about me as much as some others, I know. You're probably right there. [it's the place he's used to occupying, despite some strides made in this world.] And I wouldn't ask him to put me above his queen anyway.
No one is the same as Hannibal. That is half his anguish.
[He doesn't say my Hannibal. He does not claim possession.]
But that doesn't mean there are not similarities. You watch how he looks at his queen, the one you had just insulted, you watch that and then try to tell me you're not just an amusement to pass the time while he pines for her.
[A beat. Quietly:] I would rather spare you that humiliation.
[Rincewind shirks into himself. Chilton's only trying to look out for him, the way he's always done, without Rincewind's asking him to. He knows how much he owes to Chilton. Maeve was only the most recent example - the doctor's stepped forward for him more than that, proven himself a true friend.
Maybe he's right - maybe it's only that he can see it, and you can't. Maybe you've let yourself feel too safe.
He doesn't answer. Instead, after a moment, he asks:]
What is it you meant? When you said he had your face, er. Collapse?
[he'd known Chilton was set up and injured as a result, but "collapse" was not a word that was used then.]
If he denied his gambit now, it would make him look unreliable before Rincewind -- and at a time when reliability was most prized. Backtracking would cost dearly, and Chilton was already too emotionally invested.]
I was shot. In the face. The bullet entered through my cheek, it shattered my left infraorbital foramen and fractured the zygomatic bone. Crushed my eye lens.
And then exited through my skull, just beneath the brain.
[not knowing the medical terminology doesn't lessen Rincewind's understanding: Chilton got fucked.]
How - how did you even heal from that? Was it a healer from here? Someone with magic? I just mean that you can't even tell now, but of course it still had to be bloody awful for you, ye gods.
Yes. Exactly that. How is that confusing? If ever I export again only to re-import -- you know, any healing done here, it's all undone. I would have to go through all of that again.
I - I didn't have any ideas, as such. That is, if you've got an idea, then certainly, absolutely, but I meant more that I'd think about it, you know. And if one came up.
no subject
Date: 2017-04-27 03:24 am (UTC)[He stopped, abruptly. Blaming Rincewind for his own misfortune wasn't the track he wanted to run, Chilton simply wanted him to know what it was like -- to understand the danger in trusting fair-haired men who obsessed (even lusted) after a magnetic third party. The peril in being over enthusiastic with an untried, unknown individual couldn't be explained enough.]
I know trauma. I know betrayal -- intimately. I -- he had my very face collapse in! He had me shot in the face. [A different he, but one of whom Chilton had already been projecting onto Jorah.] I was further down his personal hierarchy than I had thought. A mere play thing. Just as you are with Mormont.
no subject
Date: 2017-04-28 09:19 pm (UTC)Jorah's not the same as your Hannibal. [his voice sounds weaker than he intended.] You can't even bloody well compare the two, you - you can't.
He probably doesn't care about me as much as some others, I know. You're probably right there. [it's the place he's used to occupying, despite some strides made in this world.] And I wouldn't ask him to put me above his queen anyway.
...But I'm not a play thing.
no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 12:08 am (UTC)[He doesn't say my Hannibal. He does not claim possession.]
But that doesn't mean there are not similarities. You watch how he looks at his queen, the one you had just insulted, you watch that and then try to tell me you're not just an amusement to pass the time while he pines for her.
[A beat. Quietly:] I would rather spare you that humiliation.
no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 03:36 am (UTC)Maybe he's right - maybe it's only that he can see it, and you can't. Maybe you've let yourself feel too safe.
He doesn't answer. Instead, after a moment, he asks:]
What is it you meant? When you said he had your face, er. Collapse?
[he'd known Chilton was set up and injured as a result, but "collapse" was not a word that was used then.]
no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 03:44 am (UTC)If he denied his gambit now, it would make him look unreliable before Rincewind -- and at a time when reliability was most prized. Backtracking would cost dearly, and Chilton was already too emotionally invested.]
I was shot. In the face. The bullet entered through my cheek, it shattered my left infraorbital foramen and fractured the zygomatic bone. Crushed my eye lens.
And then exited through my skull, just beneath the brain.
no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 04:47 am (UTC)[not knowing the medical terminology doesn't lessen Rincewind's understanding: Chilton got fucked.]
How - how did you even heal from that? Was it a healer from here? Someone with magic? I just mean that you can't even tell now, but of course it still had to be bloody awful for you, ye gods.
...I'm sorry. Really.
no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 04:54 am (UTC)I wear make-up.
1/2
Date: 2017-04-29 05:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:25 am (UTC)[debatable.]
I'm just still a bit confused. You mean you've still got a wound... that you just... hide?
no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:41 am (UTC)You must be very good at makeup.
no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:31 pm (UTC)[there, a little levity. How it should be between them.]
...So you aren't still upset at me?
no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:34 pm (UTC)Well... I'll attempt to make it up to you. Now that we're both awake.
no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 05:51 pm (UTC)Right, exactly.
no subject
Date: 2017-04-29 07:03 pm (UTC)