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After concocting their “fool-proof” plan (and it will really need to be fool-proof to withstand them) Glib reaches for the door, only to stop as a vaguely familiar wave of magic courses over him. His skin prickles and the overwhelming since of danger washes over him settling deep in his bones like an itch he can't scratch. He casts a sideways glance at S.G. and something about her is wrong, and it's not the fact that she still looks like him but wearing pants.
"Shit, that’s not S.G.,” Glib thinks with a sinking feeling.
“Glib? Is something the matter?” Not S.G. says stepping closer. “Is the door locked?”
“No!” He snaps, stepping away from her. “I just-” His mind is racing with possible solutions before landing on Hold Person.
"Glib? Glib! What are you doing?” Not (?) S.G. yelps through their psychic link.
“I’m getting a really bad vibe off of you right now,” Glib hisses. “And I need to know why.”
"Is it because I’m wearing tailored pants?” S.G. asks. “I mean I can just shift forms and then we can get you your own pants. This is ridiculous,” they reason. Glib makes no move to release her. He thinks for a moment before settling on casting Protection From Good and Evil.
“Ok, so,” Glib says as calmly as he can manage. “I know we just got back from the chaos realm. I know this is the second time you’ve interacted with the Demon God we are dealing with right now. I- I need to detect- I need to dispel anything from you that could be possessing you. I don’t know why I’m getting a bad vibe, but I’m getting a really fucking bad vibe right now.”
”I mean, yes, go ahead,” S.G. says as she stops struggling against the spell. “I mean you no harm. We’ve been traveling together for two days.” Glib nods slowly. He casts Protection From Good and Evil and releases S.G. Even though the spell should have cleared away the bad vibe, the feeling seems to double down, sinking further into Glib’s stomach.
Upon being released, S.G. casts Charm Person.
“I’m not going to harm you, I’m just going to put something on you so you can’t hurt me,” she says swiftly, recognizing the look of betrayal, hurt, and anger in Glib's eyes. “Because that was really fucking weird and uncalled for, okay?”
Glib is silent for a moment before he has an idea.
“You can read the vibes of people, right? Like that’s one of the things you can do. Detect their foremost thought, right?” Glib asks slowly.
“Yes? But I can’t read my own thoughts,” S.G. says slowly.
“Right, no, I don’t need you to read your own thoughts,” Glib says. “I need you to read what I’m reading off of you. So you can see what’s going on.”
S.G. nods but before she can dive into Glib’s mind, a tall, lanky man appears at the far end of the alleyway, probably drawn by the loud, frantic spell casting.
“Woah, y’all, woah!” the man yells. Glib stills, immediately recognizing the voice. “What’s all this commotion out here?”
“It’s nothing,” S.G. says dismissively before Glib has a chance to speak. Glib’s back is still to the newcomer, which gives him a chance to collect his thoughts. “It’s nothing that concerns you. My friend and I are having a creative discussion.”
“Creative discussion my butt!” the Southern Gentleman says, swaggering forward. “Listen, my name is Mr. Goodbid, pleasure to meet you -because I always be doin' good biddness, don't cha forget it, dalrin'.” He sticks his hand out to S.G. but Glib has slunk away from them and pulled his hood further down. Goodbid doesn’t bat an eye at the hooded figure, turning back to S.G. “Now listen, I don’t want people tusslin' around in my street. What are y’all doin’?”
“it’s hard to explain. A gentleman as yourself might not understand the complexities of frog relation,” S.G. says hurriedly.
“Frog relations? Y’all are frogs?” He asks good naturedly as he sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Huh, well ain’t that somethin'?”
“What, never seen a frog person before?” S.G. snaps, trying to back him into a verbal corner.
“No, no, I have! I’ve got a,” he chuckles to himself as he smooths his mustache. “A friend who’s a frogman. You actually look quite a lot like him! I woulda thought you were him, but you’re got a much higher and differently accented voice.”
S.G. nods and smiles at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your first name. I’m S.G. by the way and this is-”
“Johnny,” Glib says but he pronounces it with a Southern twang. “His first name is Johnny.” Glib slowly pulls back his hood and stares at Goodbid for a long moment. "Johnny B. Goodbid."
“Glib, just because someone has a southern accent does not mean-”
“You’re alive?” Goodbid says quietly, reaching to touch Glib’s face.
“Not technically, no,” Glib says with a soft smile that S.G. has never seen on Glib. It almost doesn’t look right on his face. “I’m a frogpire, remember?” Goodbid smiles and picks Glib up in a crushing hug.
“I thought you died! I’ve been tryin' to find you with locatin' spells and what not for the last hour! Ya just dropped off the face of Vontral before coming back up sayin' ya killed my boss! Why'd ya kill my boss? Did ya kill my boss?” Goodbid says in a single breath.
“Well… about that,” Glib says slowly. “He’s not dead he’s just in the chaos dimension which is where I’ve been by the way.”
“What?” Johnny says, looking slightly deranged with his worried eyes but large smile.
“Glib! Stop giving away all our secrets to this stranger! And stop hugging him! It’s weird!” S.G. says, wondering if her charm person spell somehow made Glib like this random stranger.
Glib laughs and shakes his head. He taps Goodbid to release him before saying, “S.G. there is a reason I never told you my last name.”
“And that is?” She asks suspiciously.
“It’s Goodbid. My full name is Glib Goodbid.”
“Oh,” S.G. says slowly. “So, you're brothers? Cousins?”
Glib cringes as John outright laughs.
“No, little lady, we’re married,” Goodbid laughs.
“What?! But Glib doesn’t wear a ring!” S.G. yells.
“Yeah, if I wear any sort of medal for too long it corrodes,” Glib explains.
S.G. nods slowly before squinting at Glib.
“I am offended I was not invited to wedding,” she deadpans as she shifts back into her natural state.
Goodbid laughs as Glib looks skyward in the universal “God give me the willpower to deal with this bullshit” way before looking at S.G. and calmly saying, “S.G. I’ve only known you for, like, two days. I’ve been married for four years.”
“Well, it sounds like you need to have another wedding so I can be there,” S.G. says fully seriously.
Glib takes a deep breath, glaring at Goodbid who is still chuckling. “Fine, we can have a second smaller wedding after we find the eldritch horror, god-thing that we released.”
“Wait, what?” Goodbid asks, staring at Glib.
“I’ll explain on the way, mustache,” Glib says tiredly as he grabs the front of S.G.’s cloak and takes Goodbid’s hand and marches out of the alleyway.