I said we have something in common? You can read minds; I can read auras; that we both have to be able to see the person we're trying to get a good read on is odd, but also interesting.
'I, the undersigned, understand and accept that Samantha Patchowski (otherwise known as ‘the Sam witch’) will restore my sense of taste only if I do not harm her, attempt to harm her, or attempt to engineer her being harmed, and I do not eat or otherwise murder any person/persons. I understand and accept that I am not to exploit the wording of these terms by eating part of a person without fatally wounding them, as this is a no-bullshit contract. I also understand and accept that if I fail to abide by this contract, my sense of taste is forfeit.
Nothing too too serious [there's a hint of a smile in her voice, there] but some new developments I wanted you to hear about from me instead of anyone else.
Mainly that I went to do some negotiating with Dirge, but this time around I took Wing as an escort. I wanted to get a hold of you and explain why that was before you heard about what transpired, cause it's not on account of any doubt or anything. The opposite, really.
If you had been there, the whole time you would've held a portion of Dirge's attention by being someone he should be worried by. I needed to have his whole attention on what I was saying. You there, I wouldn't've been the threat in the room.
[He's actually not offended at all that she called someone else...which mildly surprises him. But he's a soldier, everyone has their place, and she needed someone who would support her, but not draw all of Dirge's attention from her, so Wing made sense.]
[Ah, but it's good to hear him unbothered. Breakdown being Breakdown, Sam's sure that it'd be audible if he were bothered. She'd hate for the big guy to think she didn't feel sufficiently safe with him, when nothing could be further from the truth.]
It went alright. I think it kind of did a number on Soundwave, and Wing might have mixed feelings about it forever, but it was the surest route to a satisfactory resolution and oh, it is satisfactory. [Putting the other mechs in the positions she had hadn't been the high road---anything but, if she'd be honest---but it had worked well. Her tone lightens a little as she elaborates.] I pretty much have Dirge's ass. You should see the contract I had him sign! And it gets better.
[Oh, yeah, she’d have heard it if he was upset or offended, but as she explained, it made sense to leave him. Really, he’s used to this sort of thing.]
Yeah? So tell me about it, unless you have a copy I can see.
[She's laughing as soon as he starts, because hey, it's a triumph.]
Thank you, thank you! Judicious application of both witchcraft and bitchcraft, what can I say? Besides---like I said---it gets better. You saw the signed copy; it's his own oil I had Dirge sign it in. You ever hear the phrase 'sympathetic magic,' seen something with Knock Out that maybe had voodoo dolls in it?
Not exactly, but I've basically got what I need to whammy him harder than I'd be able to otherwise and it works on the same principle. I'm pretty pleased.
It's kind of an umbrella term---and yeah, yeah, I can't actually injure anybody who isn't flesh and blood, but that doesn't mean I can't hit him where it hurts.
[There's a satisfaction there---a sort of satisfaction, to go with the sort-of smile audible. Even someone like Sam has her sharp edges.]
If I can take his taste away once, I can do it again, and I know that for a fact. Touch, maybe; sight, for sure.
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