Lingering Glance (Patreon)

This month's lingering glance, I thought I'd share snippets of two scenes I'm working on for the patch update — which I'll, hopefully, submit tomorrow!

The first is a new conversation at the interrogation with Rafael. I just love the bickering between him and the MC 😆:

(...)

Lance smiles again. "There it is, my big secret."

Rafael slumps back in his chair. "The blue freak is playin' you all," he says, shoulders shaking around a chuckle. "I know a lie when I hear it, and that little speech reeked of it."

*choice

• 1) You narrow your eyes at the bastard. "Takes one to know one."
• 2) You smirk. "Maybe your nose is so filled with your own bullshit, Rafael, that you smell it everywhere."
• 3) You stare right at Lance. "Yes," you say. "It reeks alright."
• 4) You shake your head. "You're mistaken. Lance speaks the truth."
• 5) Your brows lower. You don't know what to believe.
• 6) You inhale sharply. "It doesn't matter," you say and turn back to Rafael. "So, one map is of a study somewhere. And the second? Does it also depict a room?"

- - -

2) You smirk down at the man. "Maybe that's the problem, Rafael. You speak so much bullshit that you've gone and clogged your nose, and look." You shake your head in a melancholy gesture. "Now you smell it everywhere."

Rafael lifts his lip to sneer at you. "Don't start projecting on me. I don't live my life thinkin' all others live like me, that's what arrogant idiots like yourself do." He points at Lance. "He's lying. Don't wanna believe me? I don't give a rat's ass. Last time I'll ever try to help ya."

Your smirk widens. "Oh, that was you helping? Here I thought you were just trying to be as annoying as possible."

"If I wanted to be annoying, you would have noticed," Rafael spits back. "You ain't seen anythin'."

"Believe you me, I've seen enough."

"Good, then ya can—"

"We're straying from what matters," Hadrian says, walking to the middle of the room. He nods at Lance, glances at Alessa, and turns to face Rafael. "What was on the other map? Was it showing a building too?"

His attempt to ease the tension is crystal clear, but even so, it works. Lance is quick to grab onto the lifeline, looking away from Alessa, who still watches him for a moment more... before she follows his sight.

Rafael shakes his head. "No. The second map was easier to read. It was a papyrus scroll of the Italian shore, I recognized some of the islands from that big map in the Company's keep." He looks at Alessa. "The one right above Tarek's desk."

(...)

The second is a dialogue you get with Lance if... you've made a certain violent choice in an early chapter. I think very few people will ever see this, so I just wanted to share:

(...)

Your smile tilts one corner of your mouth. Yes, you'll miss his company. "Why, indeed. Time has never been very generous to me." You sigh and enjoy his laugh. "But, alas, we are parting, and I just realized that I'll miss the sight of that hair of yours."

You finish talking almost abruptly, staring straight at him, not letting him look away. Lance's mouth opens, and for a moment, he just stares back, the silence heavy somehow. Filled with…something. 

Something that, for a moment, so quick you almost miss it, hardens his eyes. "Ah," he says and then smiles. And it's wrong then, the tilt at the end of it. "Well, that is why I dye it. So people may miss it."

You stare at him. "And many do?" you call his bluff in a low tone. You don't know what it is but is wrong.

Lance looks down. "You make a good point." He scratches Chouriça's head, the touch lingering as if he's avoiding looking at you. "Most people do not appreciate individuality, it is true."

He lifts his chin, then. "But we have already established you are not most people, are you not?"

"No," you say, staring right back. Your voice is almost toneless, as cold as his eyes. As empty as his smile. "But then again, neither are you."

You stare at each other for a moment. Whatever intention you had before, it is gone. You don't know what kind of trap you've walked into, but you can feel your feet slipping. Can feel the ground shifting.

And can now see why Lance, the bard, works as a spy as well.

Because he shakes his head, and it all goes away. Washed away, like water down a creek. "I think your companions await you," he says, smile pleasant. "Have a good night, mercenary."

And he watches, smiling, as you turn your back and follow after Hadrian. A tingling on your palm.

(...)