Fourth Casefile: Damage Control. [Voice/Written/Action]

[quicktoanger]

[Voice]

I paused, staring at the journal, not sure what to say for a moment.

What the hell do you say?

"Right. Sorry ab-"

Let's try this again without the accent, Harry.

"Right. Sorry about last week. If I was... off, or confused anybody, or offended anyone, or whatever."

I paused again.

"I lost the jacket, Richard, but did you at least get to keep the rifle?"

I sat for a moment longer, then chuckled.

"Least the hand didn't stay shot. Alright, I think that's it."

I shut off the feed and set to work on a filter. I suck at those, for the record, but this kind of needed to be said and was private, so...

Hell's bells, those things are more trouble than they're worth.

[Written- Locked to Molly Carpenter, filter at 2% 5% 6% 9% 9% 13 16% 20%]

Kid. Molly. I'm sorry about last week. Really, really sorry.
I never meant to
It was like I
Forget it. Look. Let me make it up to you somehow?

[Action]

That done, I tucked my journal in my pocket and went into town. I felt a pressing need to talk to people, which, let me tell you, never happens to me. Ever. Plus, there were a couple awkward conversations I wanted to have.

Comments

[greenjacketed]

He ruminated on these words. Chewed them other. Tasted them; listened to them; turned them inside out.

"And we're supposed to stay here. Like pigs, penned in."

[quicktoanger]

"Not a whole lot to do about it, I guess. Be glad we got stuck with friends, with people who understand. But other than that, we really can't find a way out, can we?"

... Yeah. That tore it. I was going to find a way out.

[greenjacketed]

Stuck with friends.

Sharpe cleared his throat. "How's Miss Carpenter taking it?"

[quicktoanger]

"I haven't spoken to her."

I sighed, trying not to look as pained as I felt.

"I... when I was all Chosen-Manned last week, I didn't recognize Molly. And it... upset her."

[greenjacketed]

"...Poor lass."

He felt rather genuinely for her. For Harry too, in a way. He hated to see two friends at odds.

[quicktoanger]

"Yeah. I'll make it up to her, though. I'm sure she'll find some sort of suitable penance for me."

Oh, hell, I was going to have to stop drinking coffee for like a month, wasn't I?

[greenjacketed]

"...The womenfolk always do."

He muttered -- just to get his requisite dose of era-specific sexism into the conversation.

Oh, Sharpe. Never change.

[quicktoanger]

"... I kind of deserve it, in this case."

Wow. Note to self: If Murph ever comes to Luceti, keep her the hell away from Richard.

[greenjacketed]

"You believe she'll blame you, Harry?"

[quicktoanger]

"Probably not. That isn't the point."

I blamed me.

[greenjacketed]

"...Should I speak with her?"

He DREADED that.

[quicktoanger]

Oh holy hell.

"No. No, no. But I appreciate the thought."

Jesus, I just added a new nightmare to my portfolio.

[greenjacketed]

"...Wouldn't know what to say, anyway."

[quicktoanger]

"It's alright, I think. A little grovelling, some..."

I grimaced.

"... Orange juice with my breakfast and salad for lunch, we should be right as rain."

[greenjacketed]

"Orange juice? It's bloody lovely, mate."

[quicktoanger]

"Delicious, yes. Caffeinated, no. I need my morning fix, man."

[greenjacketed]

"I'll settle for a proper tea any morning."

Coffee. Blech.