milliways_bar | (no subject)

...oh shit.

"No. I don't."

"Pity. I like smoothies. They whirl around in the blendamathingummy like a pool that drags you down til the air flows out of your lungs and the water flows in, and the blood vessels break, and you can't breathe, and then you die. Sad."

She giggles.

"No reason to be frightened of death."

Roland isn't.

"You've never broken her favorite CD, or else you wouldn't say that."

"...no. I haven't."

Pause.

There are Seven.

"Lady Delirium." He inclines his head.

Respectfully.

They've been acquainted once or twice.

"Yes. No. Both? Kinda. Del." Absently, correcting, as she looks at a point approximately one inch into Roland's chest and three inches down from his neck.

And snickers at whatever it is she sees.

"Long days and pleasant nights, Roland of Gilead."

"May you have twice the number, lady." Still with respect. "I'd heard you were going through a change. It went well, I hope?"

"...Y'know how sometimes you get the feeling that there are three of you, the person you want to be and the person you have to be and the person you could be but you're scared of being, or don't want to admit to being, anyway, out loud, cause that person really is a bastard sometimes?"

Silence.

"Yes."

He does.

"All three of those of me sat down and had tea and then decided to attempt killing each other. And then realized that was really boring and figured we should all get along. And then we became I."

"I gave my niece's boyfriend a sex toy. And my sister-in-law. But I did it on purpose to make them blush, not cause I was insane and didn't realize what was appropriate! I think. I could be wrong and rationalizing."

Roland listens to this.

And nods.

"It happens."

...he doesn't know what else to say, other than the truth.

"He facepalmed and blushed a lot. It was funny. She kinda stared. Felt bad about that one. I think."

"Some folken react that way to such things."

Roland is not one of them.

This is not a hint.

Del eyes him.

And hands him this.

"Ka like the wind."

...oh, now that's just not good.

But this is one of the Seven, who could send him raving for the rest of this life and whatever comes after. And Roland Deschain isn't a fool all the time.

So he holds it in his hands, and inclines his head gravely. "Thankee-sai."

"You're welcome!" She beams.

"You can say you don't want it if you don't. I won't, like, break you. Breaking's mean. I'm not mean. Well, no, I lie. I am. Somtimes. Ish. A little. But I wouldn't be!"

Roland thinks about how to put this.

"To us, guns aren't used for this purpose. One wouldn't use a relic -- something near holy -- for one's own pleasure."

"--Well, I was kinda thinking you could use it on someone else, but if that's what gets you off, go for it. And it's not a gun. It's a vibrator. It's shaped like a gun. Called The Gunslinger. It's made for pleasure, like a relic is made for being holy and respect."

"...I think it's very likely we won't see eye to eye on this subject, lady."

Still with respect.

Del beams.

"You treat me like a person!"

"Should I not?"

...please do not squash the gunslinger, Ms. Endless.

She does not squash.

She just stares, smiling.

"Most people don't, gunslinger. I amuse them, or I scare them. They placate me, or they cower, or they're too nice and never tell me what they think, or they never realize that even though I'm the baby of the family, I'm still older than the oldest god, and I know things. I'm not a child. But they treat me like one."

And Del smiles more widely.

"Thankee-sai."

Roland nods.

"Those people are fools."

He's scared of her, too, of course. He's been hers before. But the fear isn't debilitating. It generates respect.

Roland knows when he's outgunned.

"Those people are my family."

"People are dumb, when it comes to family. Screwy thing."

The vibrator is taken away, say sorry, and instead he's handed a flower.

Not a rose.

It's just a daisy.

If there is woe connected with daisies from the Dark Tower, THE MUN IS SORRY, but she doesn't know.

She does suspect that grilled cheese sandwiches are Dark Tower woe, though, because EVERYTHING IS, and thus, wouldn't be surprised.

No woe that I know of.

And Roland smiles.

"Say thankya, lady. And yes. You say true. Love stumbles."