“Yes, your highness; I do have a sister.” Riff’s voice seems to STRENGTHEN, albeit ever-so-slightly: this was a subject he knew, a subject that was enough to give him strength – solid ground to stand on amongst the Prince’s well-known unpredictability, if you will. However, Riff is knocked off course once more, blinking in surprise at the other’s rather intentional DEROGATORY comment. Was… was he supposed to disagree? Was he allowed to disagree? All he can do is chuckle rather QUIETLY (in shock, honestly, as if he can’t believe his ears) and shake his head. “– she is… quite the opposite, sir, I assure you. You will find that she will be of utmost assistance… regarding our mission.” (Frank’s mother. What a bitch. Was a mental note Riff made, one that he’d made SEVERAL times throughout his career.)
Riff could only hope that no more WORDS about MAGENTA would come from Frank’s mouth in such a way. He was already struggling to find the other to be an AGREEABLE business partner. It would be hard to work with the other on their research of a human’s biological framework if Frank was DEAD because he said too many things Riff didn’t LIKE.
(Oh, Riff. If only you knew what was ahead.)
Knocked off course once more by the other’s sudden burst of anger, Riff finds himself blinking away confusion and turning vaguely to look at the empty space behind him. “I – do believe that it’s being prepared for our… mission, your highness.” He explains, appalled at the other’s sudden IMPATIENCE. “There are many things that must be… taken care of. To make our trip an easy one, you see. It shall all be in readiness soon.”
Was Frank an idiot, or did he really think that Riff hadn’t prepared a ship for this mission that had been in the works for months? He was, in all honesty, beginning to assume the former. His chest inflating and deflating with subtlety and silence, Riff sighed. It was going to be a long trip.
‘ i beg your PARDON, general – i do not anticipate an EASY trip. ’ which, in more than a few ways, is true ; easy is almost always synonymous with lazy, or so the prince maintains, & this grand mission is to be nothing of the sort. why, it is a MISSION, after all, & not a HOLIDAY. ‘ & nor should you, nor should your sister, however HOMELY or however FAIR she truly is : we are to endure hours of TOIL, but with great reward, i assure you. ’ but the young doctor’s assurances are nearly as FLIMSY as the fabrics that clothe him.
the general is WISE, frank decides. his words are careful & nearly cautious, his posture erect … so why, then, does he speak of EASE ?surely, a general of his distinction ( albeit a distinction the prince himself, until now, had been unaware of ) knows that marvelous things aren’t born from EASINESS.
‘ where is SHE, then ? ’ inquires the furter, so far pleased with his gawky companion & therefore eager to lay eyes upon the woman he calls sister, to discover the extent of her pulchritude for himself. the queen, frank recalls, has a NASTY tendency to belittle & make mock of young transylvanian girls ; ENVIOUS, perhaps, of their slight frames, though she’d be publicly whipped before admitting to such a thing. simpering, the furter glances to the general. ‘ i am justGIDDY to meet her. ’
