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[For those that still remember Grift’s handwriting, it’s just a bit shakier and slanted than ever, though it seems he’s making a concentrated effort to keep his script as graceful as always.] It seems that this place feels the need to return the crucified back to life. A pointless endeavor, if you were to ask me, though no one did. It does
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Gotta say, I wasn't expecting to see you claw your way back.
Unfortunately, I didn't really have the room to keep your hats around. I have something I think you'll want to see even more, though.
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No? What a pity. I hope you sold them for a pretty penny. [A saaaaad pause.] Unfortunately, Cross Punisher is no longer mine. Chapel was born alongside me, and it's rightfully his. I only regret that I never got to use the rocket launcher attachment.
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Maybe if you ask him really nicely, with some pretty pleases thrown in there, he'll let you blow something up. That said, it's not like you'll come out of this empty-handed. I kept a fair few of the guns, too.
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He'd better let me blow something up. I took damn good care of that gun. [An interested pause.]
My guns? That may well be the best news I have heard all day! A hat is what a man needs to stroll out of his home in peace, perhaps, but a gun is what prevents him from walking out in pieces.
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Still, in the privacy of his own mind, Grift is just a tad bit hesitant. He had written a will to Lyle operating under the assumption that he would not be returning. And now he has, against his will. It seems like a waste, divulging his feelings like that when he is only to return. He recalls his dream and the tree with the blood red leaves, and considers that an ally with guns is much more important than salvaging a bit of pride.] Hello Lyle, [he says, a thin smile on his face, then diverts his attention to the Cross Punisher.] Ah, there's the beauty.
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That said, replying to a long absent friend over the journals is one thing, seeing him saunter into the S-yard as if nothing had changed was another. Lyle had to check himself to keep from staring, instead shaking his head and forcing a chuckle.]
Hello yourself. [He stood, resting a hand atop Cross Punisher as he did.] There she is, indeed. I have to thank you for, ah, loaning it to me. Came in handy during the ant invasion.
[He used the hand on the weapon to angle it in Grift's direction, offering it back. He then paused for a moment before saying:] Is it too ridiculous to ask, "How're you doing?"
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[The sheer amount of good-will in Edensphere was always baffling to him, and was alternately a good and a bad thing in his eyes. If not for the truth of this place, perhaps this would have been a place of redemption.
Alas, it was not to be.]
A little ridiculous, perhaps. One moment, like - [and he paused to thrust both arms on either side of him] - Jesus on the cross! The next, on the Hatchery floor. [He took Cross Punisher from Lyle and slid it over to himself.] A bit of a shock, that.
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[The 'Jesus on the cross!' quip elicited amusement at the parallel and sympathetic cringing at the actual prospect of what that felt like. The weird balance of the two resulted in an odd, choked sort of snort.]
Just a bit, I'm sure. [Lyle picked up the gun cases and put them on the work table, popping the latches, but waiting to open them for inspection, just in case Grift wanted to get acquainted with Cross Punisher, first.] ...About that. [And now his expression grew more serious.] You can decline answering if you like, but what exactly did you do that made the Tree decide crucifixion was the way to go?
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What warranted the crucifixion? [He repeated, a bitter curl of his lip making its way onto his face.] You certainly get straight to the point. But no, I can't say I mind telling you as long as you're willing to listen. [He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table.] Got a little visit from the CPA, yeah? They decided they wanted my... services, and I decided I'd rather work for myself. Pulled a gun on Fugue. [He grimaced.] Not the brightest idea I've ever had.
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[Lyle shrugged and gave a lopsided facsimile of a smile when Grift said he got straight to the point. He figured Grift probably wouldn't have much patience for the hemming and hawing routine.
His expression abruptly shifted from wry to flat disbelief when Grift said what, exactly, brought on his death.]
Bloody hell, you really were suicidal.
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Lyle's expression in response to his actions was wholly warranted, but it didn't stop it from being absolutely hilarious. He let out a sharp bark of laughter, but didn't confirm or deny any accusations of suicide. Instead, he busied his hands and eyes with checking over his guns, laughter still present at the corners of his eyes and the slant of his smile.]
That's one way of putting it, [he said.] I wanted to see if I would accomplish anything. Worst case scenario, I thought I would get the pleasure of shooting him. [He sucked on the inside of his cheek.] What a pity I didn't get the opportunity - though if I did, I have no doubts the Watch would be making noise about throwing me in the slammer.
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