031 - Northwest Berry Trio

[deadly_ned]

[Icy blue eyes - not the Piemaker's eyes - focus intently back at the rest of the Barge. When he speaks, he doesn't mention who he's speaking to: it's clear it's to one specific person he has in mind. Digby hides under the bed, as the Piemaker grasps meat cleaver and tenderizer in both hands]

Ready to serve, Master.

Comments

[SPAM]

[deadly_ned]

[The Piemaker takes a step back, clearly made uneasy by the request]

No.

[SPAM]

[neverfeltbetter]

Come on Ned. We're friends, right? You want me to understand, don't you? You want me to come to the dark side with you?

[SPAM]

[deadly_ned]

[He looks at the weapons in his hands, clearly distressed]

We should go see Arthas.

[SPAM]

[neverfeltbetter]

I will, if you let me see those.

[He's doing this for your own good Ned. Just hand over the knives.]

[SPAM]

[deadly_ned]

[He winces, clearly caught in the middle of indecision]

We should see Arthas first.

[SPAM]

[neverfeltbetter]

Would you let me see them on the way there?

[SPAM]

[deadly_ned]

[An uncertain nod. It's a compromise, but at least he's bringing Crichton to Arthas. Or so he thinks]

This way.

Re: [SPAM]

[neverfeltbetter]

[Now he's getting somewhere.]

Okay.

[He follows Ned without hesitation. He'll let him get a little comfortable first, and then ask to see the knives again.]

[SPAM]

[deadly_ned]

[The Piemaker leads the way to Arthas. He's no longer self-consciously shuffling around, instead looking alert and wide-eyed, far more engaged in what other people are doing than when he'd been unaffected]

[SPAM]

[neverfeltbetter]

[Crichton's too focused on the task at hand to notice the differences in Ned's demeanor all that much. After getting a short way into their walk, he tries again.]

So, can I take a look at those?

[SPAM]

[deadly_ned]

[He slows down a little, staring down at the tools in his hands]

Why?

[SPAM]

[neverfeltbetter]

[Ned, s2g just give him the knives. >:[ ]

Because they look cool. Come on, you said you would.

[SPAM]

[deadly_ned]

[A deeply conflicted frown. The Piemaker stares back hollowly at Crichton with his eerie and unnatural pale blue eyes]

I don't think I should.

[SPAM]

[neverfeltbetter]

[Calm. Be calm. He can still do this without a fight. Man are those eyes creepy.]

You said you would let me hold them. It's okay, we are on the way to see Arthas, right? I'll give them back before we get there. He won't have to know.

[SPAM]

[deadly_ned]

Arthas knows everything. He sees you with my eyes right now.

Re: [SPAM]

[neverfeltbetter]

OooOkay.

[That is unexpected and creepy as hell.]

On second thought. Maybe I don't feel like going to talk to him after all.

[SPAM]

[deadly_ned]

[Abruptly, his grip tightens on both weapons]

No. Come with me.

[SPAM]

[darknessb4me]

[Arthas steps out of the empty cabin he's been investigating, cool as you please. His sword has acquired a smear of red since he last encountered Crichton, and he seems to be in no hurry to clean it off.]

Amusing as this is to watch, I think I've run out of patience for it.

Re: [SPAM]

[neverfeltbetter]

[ Well crap! Why is he not surprised?]

Just once, I'd like things to actually go how I planned. Just once.

[SPAM]

[deadly_ned]

[The Piemaker turns to acknowledge Arthas, visibly relieved]

My king.

[Quick as lightening, he drops his weapons to one hand and with the other, goes to grab for Crichton's arm]

[SPAM]

[darknessb4me]

Acolyte.

[Arthas nods, smiles thinly at Ned.]

This one has trouble keeping to himself.

[SPAM]

[neverfeltbetter]

This one hears that a lot.

[He looks down surprised to see Ned's hand on him.]

Ned, man, do not make me hurt you.

[SPAM]

[deadly_ned]

[The Piemaker can only look hollowly back at Crichton, holding him close but not tight enough to hurt]

Don't make me hurt you either.

[SPAM]

[darknessb4me]

Won't be necessary.

[Arthas steps behind Crichton and moves to thrust his sword through the warden's chest.]

[SPAM]

[neverfeltbetter]

[He feels Arthas stepping in behind him, and tries to pull away, to get his hand free of Ned's grip so he can draw his pistol, for whatever good it might do him. It's all too little far too late. The sword sinks into his chest and his whole body goes rigid against it. But it's over almost too soon for the pain to register as more than a look of surprise in those wide blue eyes. One final, sighing breath escapes him and his body crumples to the ground.]