Video;

[wizzardly]

[The first thing to come over the feed will be a too-close shot of a handmade sign before the wizard gets the right angle to show his face and the small park behind him in Nonah. He appears to be Unhappy.]

Right, okay, was I not legible enough, do you think? Should I have offered translations? I consider myself rather patient on the whole, but when some idiot - for the third time in two days - takes a clear warning and turns it into an invitation to create the sort of disaster which loses me my job, I get the feeling this blasted sign is doing more harm than good. So let's just make something clear, shall we?

This - [the video shifts for a moment to show a wooden trunk on legs, running full tilt behind him after a few terrified squirrels] - is not a pet! It is certainly not some sort of tame training dummy for empty-headed fighters to test their skills on. It is a monstrosity crafted of sapient pearwood, and when it feels its owner, who happens to be me, is being attacked, it eats people. No stern warnings, no shining letterheads or gentle taps on the shoulder, just death. Maybe missing fingers or a quick trampling, if they're lucky.

Am I making myself clear enough? Try to hurt me, this man right here, and my magical box will murder you, and I will watch.

[a pause.]

...Provided I have not already run away.

[Rincewind nods sharply, then takes off his sign and throws it in a trash can.]

There. I've officially done all I can do, I've said my piece, this is no longer my responsibility. [he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.] Honestly, I don't understand how it was so difficult to understand in the first place. You see a sign telling you not to do something - who then thinks 'Oh, well surely they don't mean that for me?' I swear, no matter where I find myself, it seems I'm always the only sane man arou -

[there's the loud crack of splintering wood and the sound of several screaming members of the rodent family. Rincewind (and the video) looks behind him to see that the Luggage has knocked down a large oak tree in its pursuit of the squirrels. His face drains of color.]

Oh bugger - !

Comments

[wizzardly]

[shit, shit, shit, he's going to need to look up this Edgeworth person immediately.]

Wait, are you saying you've been in trouble here? - Is this Edgeworth person your lawyer as well?

[slightlyoffchilt]

Not here, no. I had been -- framed for something rather heinous, back home.

It was unpleasant.

[wizzardly]

Gods, I'd imagine. Was it one of your patients? I did say the sort you like to work with are too dangerous by half.

[slightlyoffchilt]

It was. Not a patient. [Hannibal, he had thought, was a friend.] Though perhaps he ought to have been. I was able to produce a case study on the man regardless. [A beat.] Karmic retribution, you might call it.

[Hardly, as Alana doled out far crueler punishments in the toilet-seat-removing fashion. Chilton made Hannibal coherently famous and ensured that the man would not be given the death penalty. Even if the consequence was that Chilton personally benefited, that did not put his name in red.

It was a tragedy he had yet to fully experience.]

[wizzardly]

Sounds rather like Will's not the only one to attract those sorts then. [just an observation.] Still sounds dreadful, even if you turned it around.

[a pause - then he ventures, timorously:]

Is... is what happened something to do with your allergies? [which sounds ridiculous once he says it aloud, so he quickly adds, defensively:] It's just - you mentioned before that they hurt more than they used to, so I was wondering if you got your nose hurt when you went home. Not that you've got to answer, of course, if you'd rather not. I don't mean to pry.

[slightlyoffchilt]

[That earned a look, of course, but Chilton couldn't really dispute it. The difference was a subtle one -- Chilton actively sought psychopaths, and soon enough they turned their attention on him. Will only had to exist.]

Ah.

[Ah, yes. The allergies.]

I was -- ah. Assaulted while in custody. [Quickly:] I've recovered well enough, but naturally, there will be minor physical consequences.

[wizzardly]

[Rincewind's mouth screws in sympathy. What a way to make an already terrible day worse. Get imprisoned for someone else's crime, then have a big bloke beat you down while you're in there. Terrible.]

I wouldn't have even noticed if you hadn't said something. [he means this to be a compliment.] So you just haven't found a healer then yet?

[slightlyoffchilt]

It wouldn't heal me back home, would it?

[A shade of nihilism had entered Chilton's worldview. Why hide from his own becoming? What would that achieve, temporary relief? Or a delusion? What if it brought Hannibal to him quicker?]

If I returned again, and came back. I would subject myself all over again.

[Implying his condition was permanent, not temporary as Rincewind likely, logically assumed.]

[wizzardly]

I don't know, few things in my life have been permanent. I'm rather a fan of taking temporary comforts where I can. Why suffer if you don't have to, sort of thing. Later can be for - well, later.

[he really can't imagine what sort of injury this would be, that is both severe enough that he can't heal it at home but which also isn't visible. It's puzzling.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

Your medical advice is duly noted.

[Jesse Pinkman was out of the question, and he didn't know any other primary healers. There was always reality-altering Billy Kaplan... But that thought was terrifying.

Chilton remained resigned, thinking it pointless -- but he had years to adapt, he knew he was stronger than what Hannibal had done. This was much hopeless as it was habit.]

It doesn't really hurt any longer.

[A quirk of a smile, which quickly fades as the original topic comes back to mind..]

I don't suppose that Luggage could sustain beneath some sort of... Magical, metal leash?

[Sabriel might have something, he thought, if the wizard he was speaking to did not. It could be a matter of different disciplines, who knows.]

[wizzardly]

No need to be flippant about it.

[but Chilton's momentary smile allows him to add, with less offense:] But it's good it doesn't. You've that, at least.

...The Luggage can sustain most anything. If such a thing were possible I'd be more concerned that leashes typically require someone strong enough to hold them.

[he'd also be concerned that it would limit the ill-tempered box from running in to protect him at a moment's notice, a concern which shows in his furrowed brow.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

What about -- hrm. Something of a spacetime paradox? For example: a pocket in space, folded between dimension, designed to keep that thing in place?

[In its place, he nearly says. No secret that Chilton has yet to acquire an appreciation of the Luggage.]

That kind of power is sometimes distributed among imPorts.

[wizzardly]

...I've got to admit I'm not very keen on anything that might slow it from helping when danger inevitably tracks me down.

[or anything someone else could use against it, to get it out of the way for just that purpose.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

Do you typically acquire the sort of enemy who would want to hurt you?

[Not that Chilton was judging.]

[wizzardly]

You have no idea. [miserably]

[slightlyoffchilt]

Why is that? You hardly strike me as particularly loathsome.

[wizzardly]

Thank you, I think.

[was that a compliment? He'll take it as a compliment.]

It's not usually about me personally. It's that I somehow always end up the linchpin to someone else's mad plans, which other parties - inevitably powerful and/or homicidal parties - are opposed to. Gods, even here -

...Anyway, I blame Fate.

[slightlyoffchilt]

[Ah, Fate. A topic that Raina was all too fond of, and Chilton all too familiar. He opted for the buried lede.]

Even here, you say? Are you referencing specific individuals?

[wizzardly]

Maybe not, maybe not. [hurriedly.] I'm - still trying to get out of that one. Avoid, I mean. Hasn't happened. Might not.

On another topic, have you any advice on applying for work here? I'd assume you've some expertise, given the position you've managed to secure. Big office and everything. Desk servant. It's really quite nice.

[slightlyoffchilt]

I just want you to know that I know you're avidly avoiding the topic.

[He knows!!]

Well -- when you're Registered, it is far easier to attain a loan or use governmental channels to secure a more desirable job. What occupation have you in mind?

[wizzardly]

And yet you went along regardless, which is something you should know I appreciate about you.

[nobody wants to discuss potentially pissing off the devil, Chilton of all people would appreciate that.]

I suppose what I mentioned before, about working in a library. Nonah's got a fine one. Assistant Librarian, maybe. I'd settle for stocking the shelves, even. [forever a man of low ambition.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

I'm sorry, I was under the impression you were something of a wizard.

[Here comes Chilton, knight in sarcastic armor, ready to champion for Rincewind's self esteem in the most passive-aggressive way possible.]

Which implies a skill set far more impressive than the ability to follow the Dewey Decimal System.

[wizzardly]

Yes, well, titles can be deceiving, can't they?

- And libraries aren't as easy as you're making them sound. [huff.] Even if they were, I'm not out to impress anyone anyway; I'd be fine with a bit of peace and boredom.

[slightlyoffchilt]

I'm sure merely by verbalizing that, you've now made libraries the next target for some psychotic disaster.

1/2

[wizzardly]

[Rincewind totally looks ready to protest that - !]