“Planning?” Roundmartin asked back in the same tone you might question someone just now calling you a motherfucker. Then he went mellow again accepting his fate. “Planning? Planning. Scheming even I suppose. If you could call what I’ve been up to planning certainly you could call it scheming? And if you called it—this—scheming you might as well come right out and call me the bad guy. That’s where you’ve set me in your story. In your plans,” he paused to slather the bit in the original motherfucker tone, “Isn’t it Gane. Isn’t it Holy Man?”
Gane said nothing. Charming didn’t hesitate, “You burnt all of this out looking for me. You killed all these people. My friends. Just to find me. And you couldn’t even do that. Well here I am.” Her Song encompassing gesture sagged but then angered back up to a chest pointing accusation.
“Nice manners.” Roundmartin never looked at Charming he continued stared at Brother Gane. “You might inform her that we like to play this game with a bit more…I don’t know…finesse? I’d have hoped you’d have brought her up better. When one entrusts his baby girl to the care of another they develop…expectations. You know?”
209 words on day 509