Penny was not sure what to do at this time. Dove was throwing a tantrum in the corner of the room they were provided, and apparently, he had been burned for acting as he always does. Again. Apparently, fire is hot. Very good information for her to know. However, he was almost rabid again. He had spent most of last night explaining how nefarious and evil this Mr. Skink was, and how he had to do something to get out of here. Breaking her free from her thoughts was a single, sturdy knock on the door.
"May I come in?" Asked the polite voice on the other side.
"What do you think!" Frothed Dove.
The man known as Mr. Skink opened the door and pushed aside the blade aimed at his face. "A yes, as you must be practicing your swings for your favor."
"Why would I?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
"Because I have no plans on supporting a puppet of Salem."
"What have we said about lying?" Calmly smiled Mr. Skink. "You do what is best for you, not what is best for any tribe. You are simply upset, though I cannot understand the reason why."
"It is because he never wants to compromise." Droned Penny. She had seen enough.
"Penny, stay out of this," barked Dove. "This doesn't concern you.
"But it does. Or do you think you can make all the decisions?" Smirked Mr. Skink.
"I will protect her from you. I will cut you down if you attempt to take her."
Mr. Skink merely smiled and pulled a thick folder from inside his coat. "Here is the man I would like you to kill for the favor. A leader of a resistance pocket not far from here. Please, and thank you."
"You're ignoring me." Claimed Dove, cracking his voice in the process. "You're ignoring me, and you're not taking me seriously at all." Dove's sword hovered closed enough to the smile of Mr. Skink that one could imagine him flossing with the tip.
"And you are ignoring her." Mr. Skink slid out a revolver from the folder and aimed it at the server in which Penny resided. "Now, you have a choice, as you seem to like it when your choices are limited. Run me through, and I shoot your friend. Or you take the folder, do the favor, and leave with your friend in about a day or two's time. You think that is fair?"
Dove clenched his teeth and started to steam. However, a voice spoke up. "You simply want him to do a favor for you because you believe he was being evasive with some of his answers?"
"Indeed, disembodied voice," sighed Mr. Skink. "I simply wanted to have a civil conversation with you, and he couldn't trust either of us to do that much."
"What, no- I." Stammered Dove.
"I understand," cut in a level-headed Penny. "And in order to have this conversation with me, you plan on ensuring that he is out of position for the duration of the talk. Is this correct?"
"Most definitely!" Said Mr. Skink. Penny found the smile on Mr. Skink's face disconcerting. Then again, she had yet to see the man do anything but smile. "Would you like to lay the details of this agreement?"
"No, you can't. You can't trust him," raved Dove. "You can't defend yourself. How can you!"
Ignoring Dove, Penny continued. "Dove does this favor, and you and I can have a talk. Same terms as Dove's conversation. No property is to be permanently dispossessed, and no harm will be committed against either party as a result of the talk. Agreeable terms, Mr. Skink?" Dove looked back at Penny, betrayed.
"Agreed."
"Are you going to holster your weapon, Mr. Skink?" Asked Penny.
"Once the third party takes his end of the agreement, I will do so."
"Penny, no. He wears people's hands, Penny. He's insane. How can you? You won't be safe with him!"
"She will."
"Skink, you have your weapon pointed at her." Pointed out Dove. "You are already threatening her well-being. What's preventing you from destroying or keeping her once I leave. What's preventing you from killing me out there, and leaving her in your hands, for the rest of time."
"An agreement between fellows. I give my word."
"As I give mine," announced Penny.
"Penny, you can't defend yourself. You're just a box. What does your word even mean when you literally cannot act! You're not able to defend yourself!"
"Dove, stop it! You keep going back and forth! You are a hypocrite! I am both too weak and need defending, and then you go and put me into a scenario where I am apparently required to be defended from your pride. In your eyes, I am both too sensitive, and must be weaned off of your presence before you die, and yet, you make it so I can only interact with you. You want everything to go the way you want it. And you put everything else second." Had Penny a body, she would be trembling.
Dove mulled over the words his friend spoke. His eyes lost in thought. The smirk of Mr. Skink, knowing that he did not even need to act in order to sow such chaos. A bystander that simply enjoyed the show more than he most likely should have. Eyes refocused and stared down teeth. "You planned this, didn't you?" Dove accused.
Mr. Skink snorted. "I don't know. If I did, I must be smarter than I thought."
"Dove." Called Penny, snapping the tension in the room. "If you do not go now, I will ask to be relieved of your company."
The sword was lowered, and a pair of lost eyes looked at a camera lens. "What?"
"I believe we both need some time. Do the favor. As unfavorable or favorable Mr. Skink is, please act on his behalf. If not, I will voluntarily remain here, in the custody of Mr. Skink."
"You can't do that?"
"Why can I not?" Dove was at a loss for words. Documents were placed onto his hands. Penny continued. "Please. I want to continue being friends. But we cannot continue as we are."
Dove closed his eyes and sheathed the sword. He grabbed the folder, and briskly walked out of the room. Mr. Skink's smile never left his face. "Very nice. Let us begin. I am Mr. Skink. What should I call you?"
"Penny."
"What is the hesitance, Penny?"
"You threatened me and forced me to take control of the situation."
"Don't worry," Hummed Mr. Skink, as he slid the cylinder out of position and showed the six empty slots to Penny. "But I must ask, how did it feel? Taking control. Resuming agency."
She was not going to lie. "It was something I have been unable to do for the last few days." Penny admitted. "Thank you."
Mr. Skink tucked the empty revolver back into his belt. "You are most certainly welcome."
Here goes nothing. "What is it that you would like to talk about with me?"
"Would you like to go for a walk?"
"What do you mean by this?"
"I put you on my back, as I walk down the hall. We talk and walk, as fellows." Mr. Skink was either genuine, or very good at imitating genuinity.
"Yes, I would like a walk."
"Good, because there is a very large distance from the entrance and the actual holding areas. Maybe you can tell me about how the two of you met during the walk."
Dove hated this. What else was there for him to do. He read the files again and again. Surprisingly complete record for a leader of a resistance pocket. Windbag was the target. At least that was the codename Skink gave him. Just get in and get out. After almost a day of walking either way. How could she. He was just trying to protect her, and she reacts like this. Maybe he should just leave her.
Dove stopped in his tracts, looking at the sun on the horizon, snow up to his thighs. Do that and he'd be no better than them. Cowards. Bitter. Not willing to fight till the end. Not willing to fight, period. Not willing to defend those who even dared to question them. Was Dove a coward, a worm, like them? Probably. But was it his fault that others always chose to be martyrs? Was it his fault that he defended his section, even as others fell around him? He wasn't a god. He wasn't perfect. And neither were his judgements. Maybe, just maybe, Penny was right. Not the first time she would be. Not sure why he was so surprised. Maybe it was because he had to defend her now. Not that it should have changed anything. He thought he left it behind, and yet here it was, raising its deformed, cancerous head in attempt to mock him. His pride. Darn. He still didn't fully understand, but maybe he could get some time to himself to think about it. On the way back that is. For now, he had to find a way to circumnavigate 'Windbag's' semblance.
