Gabe was way, way too similar to Cain for Billy-Ray's tastes. Of course, seeing as it was Pleasant, he should probably have expected that. He wouldn't even have gotten so angry, if it weren't for the damn stomach wound Cain had given him a year ago. It still hadn't healed properly, still hadn't stopped hurting, and it was sapping his magic so badly that Billy-Ray felt he had every right in the world to be angry. Particularly at pseudo-Texans who thought they were the best thing since sliced bread. Guy didn't even have a cowboy hat. What made him so fascinating?
"First of all," Billy-Ray retorted, tone and single finger held up in an equally mocking manner, "I'm a bad guy. That's what bad guys do. Secondly, you clearly don't know your friend there too well, but you guys ain't exactly angels. Never have been. Foolin' yourselves is some kind of job requirement, I guess." He grinned. "Least I'm honest. And thirdly, big words coming from someone who ain't got no weapon at all, standing behind the gun. Fourthly, your clothes are stupid."
His counterpoints finished, Billy-Ray folded his arms, one eye still on the gun. "No self-respectin' cowboy wears clothes like that. Saddle would chafe. And hey, while we're on the subject, how did you guys get here so quick? Professor didn't even touch a phone."
"Everyone always seems to miss the part where I'm a detective," Pleasant grumbled. "It isn't just a title."
"You don't even know where we're goin', though," Billy-Ray mused. "Or why. I think you're cheatin."
"I never cheat. Who said I don't know where you're going?"
"Well, for one thing," Billy Ray said, "you'd probably have shot me by now."
~~
Well, Father O'Reilly couldn't really comment on that. He didn't know the rules sorcerers laid down for each other, or what the supposed consequences were. He would simply have to take Solomon's word for it. So while he had no advice to give on that specific topic, the priest did know at least one thing that might help the man come to a decision on his own.
"If your right eye causes you to stumble," Father O'Reilly said after a long moment to think, with the sort of measured tone one takes when they are quoting something, "gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell."
He smiled gently. "Matthew. 5:29. You have the advantage over your brethren here, Solomon. And on a more personal note, I've known you for all of a few minutes, and already I seriously doubt you are an easy man to kill. Even without your power. Please, don't sell yourself short."
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"First of all," Billy-Ray retorted, tone and single finger held up in an equally mocking manner, "I'm a bad guy. That's what bad guys do. Secondly, you clearly don't know your friend there too well, but you guys ain't exactly angels. Never have been. Foolin' yourselves is some kind of job requirement, I guess." He grinned. "Least I'm honest. And thirdly, big words coming from someone who ain't got no weapon at all, standing behind the gun. Fourthly, your clothes are stupid."
His counterpoints finished, Billy-Ray folded his arms, one eye still on the gun. "No self-respectin' cowboy wears clothes like that. Saddle would chafe. And hey, while we're on the subject, how did you guys get here so quick? Professor didn't even touch a phone."
"Everyone always seems to miss the part where I'm a detective," Pleasant grumbled. "It isn't just a title."
"You don't even know where we're goin', though," Billy-Ray mused. "Or why. I think you're cheatin."
"I never cheat. Who said I don't know where you're going?"
"Well, for one thing," Billy Ray said, "you'd probably have shot me by now."
~~
Well, Father O'Reilly couldn't really comment on that. He didn't know the rules sorcerers laid down for each other, or what the supposed consequences were. He would simply have to take Solomon's word for it. So while he had no advice to give on that specific topic, the priest did know at least one thing that might help the man come to a decision on his own.
"If your right eye causes you to stumble," Father O'Reilly said after a long moment to think, with the sort of measured tone one takes when they are quoting something, "gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to stumble, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell."
He smiled gently. "Matthew. 5:29. You have the advantage over your brethren here, Solomon. And on a more personal note, I've known you for all of a few minutes, and already I seriously doubt you are an easy man to kill. Even without your power. Please, don't sell yourself short."