Hm.
[A fairly tall man, pewter wine cup clutched in one hand as if to make a toast, is standing at the end of the pier. He glances curiously over one shoulder towards the sea, frowns, and looks back up to the shore. Stooping to pick up a small, polished-brass box of sorts, he begins to walk
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For a while he listens to Athos going about his business. Then he lazily taps a few buttons (my, look at him getting the hang of this trinket) and announces cheerfully: ]
Well, well, well, Athos. If that isn't a wonderful surprise. Bienvenue!
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He can hear the mock bow. In fact, he can picture it perfectly in his mind. It isn't that difficult to imagine, surprisingly, and Buckingham only wins by default today because Athos is new here.
It won't take him that long to get his footing.]
I trust you'll survive passably well without the servants. Adieu.
[There is no shame in hanging up now. None at all. Because it was mutual. So there.]
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