Very well! I can see that you are sorely in need of a lesson, and I would be happy to teach it. Name the time and place for our duel and I shall meet you there.
[ She shows up very promptly to the agreed-upon field of battle—the courtyard in front of the palace. Her pegasus stands next to her, and she's decked out in her full pegasus knight outfit, armor included, her spear clenched in one hand.
It seems time hasn't abated her ire, because she still looks pretty steamed as she glances around for her mysterious opponent—whoever it is, she fully expects to put them in their place for this slight.
When Richie shows up he has the good fortune to do so from the sheltered view of Clair's back. And the horse's ass. He spares a moment for the thin inhale of impatience upon seeing the trotter's wings (it's not like he expected her to be lying about that pegasus shit, but that didn't mean laying eyes on it came off any less stupid) but advances forward, giving ample berth to them kicksy hooves. He doesn't fancy starting riding lessons with three broken ribs.
Richie draws his weapon as he reaches her shoulder.]
En guard!
[She's got a cocktail sword in her shoulder blade. He thwacks the armor with it and provides his own sound effects to mask the plastic pings.]
[ The poke to her shoulder has her spinning around immediately, her grip tightening on her spear. But it's just— ]
Rich?
[ Of all the people she expected—no, she's still expecting her opponent to show up at any minute. He must have seen her in the courtyard and decided to approach her with this... tiny sword? She blinks at it, too perplexed by the situation to offer up any other reaction. ]
[Richie deals a final blow: pushing the point of his cocktail sword into the round of her cheek.] You've lost the battle, but you can still win the war.
Chica-what? [Richie bursts out laughing.] You messaged me, Blondie. I just played the cards you dealt me. Check your phone and see if I'm fooling. Go on.
Because it was funny. [His hands sit on his hips and he keeps the grin cheeky.] Everyone's phone is fucking up today. Why fight it? There's no getting around it until they fix it back up. Be glad it was me. You could have messaged anybody.
[He waggles his fingers at her, bringing on his best Bela Lugosi.] Tell me, dahling, tell me ahll of your dahkest secrits!
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Wait you fed this to the King of fucking Wyver?
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I am quite certain the king of Wyver would not appreciate such colorful language sullying his distinguished name.
[ ...wait. ]
You are not Jean-Jacques.
Identify yourself at once!
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and kill the mystery? never
you'll have to catch me first
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It is extremely rude indeed to intrude upon the conversations of others!
Have you no manners?
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there's only one way to settle this
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Name the time and place for our duel and I shall meet you there.
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Perhaps you mean the courtyard before the palace?
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See you there, ruffian!
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Prepare yourself to face me!
[ Always gotta get the last word... anyway, ]
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It seems time hasn't abated her ire, because she still looks pretty steamed as she glances around for her mysterious opponent—whoever it is, she fully expects to put them in their place for this slight.
i hate Richie so much right now. ]
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When Richie shows up he has the good fortune to do so from the sheltered view of Clair's back. And the horse's ass. He spares a moment for the thin inhale of impatience upon seeing the trotter's wings (it's not like he expected her to be lying about that pegasus shit, but that didn't mean laying eyes on it came off any less stupid) but advances forward, giving ample berth to them kicksy hooves. He doesn't fancy starting riding lessons with three broken ribs.
Richie draws his weapon as he reaches her shoulder.]
En guard!
[She's got a cocktail sword in her shoulder blade. He thwacks the armor with it and provides his own sound effects to mask the plastic pings.]
Ka-tang! Ka-tang! Schwing!!
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Rich?
[ Of all the people she expected—no, she's still expecting her opponent to show up at any minute. He must have seen her in the courtyard and decided to approach her with this... tiny sword? She blinks at it, too perplexed by the situation to offer up any other reaction. ]
What has brought you here?
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Okay but seriously, when she finally realizes that he was the one she'd challenged—she jumps in shock. ]
Wha—but that was you?!
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[Richie deals a final blow: pushing the point of his cocktail sword into the round of her cheek.] You've lost the battle, but you can still win the war.
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Scoundrel! You... you fooled me with... chicanery!
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[ But... he's laughing, and so she can't really stay that mad at him, if she ever really was in the first place. With a sigh, she asks: ]
Why did you not reveal yourself at once?
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[He waggles his fingers at her, bringing on his best Bela Lugosi.] Tell me, dahling, tell me ahll of your dahkest secrits!