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[impure_tale]

[Video]

Has Father Christmas come for an early visit, I wonder? 

[He shows to the camera what appears to be a rather charming, if aged and weathered china doll. The manner of dress and the styling of the hair immediately put him in mind of Iris, so he looks just a bit cheeky as he shows it. Though it has the familiar cherub face of most china dolls -- yes, when one looks at her carefully, there's still almost a familial resemblance, and the Marquis is shown to be holding her very carefully.]

Such a charming little lady. Perhaps a little out of place among my other figurines, but she looks to have a secret or two about her, oui? 

I wonder what I ought to call her? 

(ooc: Fair warning! My paid account ran out, and I'm broke. I only regularly use a FEW of the icons that are available to me now. SO if you get a lot of default icon, I promise I'm not doing it to be a jerk.)

Comments

[givessweetness]

[…Hm. He's going to ignore the doll, which doesn't make him angry, even though it's a bit weird for there to be an effigy of someone.] Who's Father Christmas?

[impure_tale]

An imaginary figure tied to a religious holiday, normally credited for bringing gifts to good children, but once a year the Admiral dons a special hat and we play along while he showers everyone with gifts.

[givessweetness]

Sounds perverse.

[impure_tale]

Well of course it's perverse. That's half the fun!

[givessweetness]

If you like.

[routemistress]

...Good grief. I got one and all, but I reckon I like yours better.

[The sight of the doll unsettles her, but the humour of the situation strikes her almost simultaneously, and she shifts her tone midsentence to archly warm.]

I 'ope you look after 'er in the manner to which she wishes she were accustomed, Marquis love.

[And then she pans her video feed to the dogs behind her, playing tug with a male doll in a suit.]

I'm afraid I were a bit rough with mine.

Timeline wise we'll say this is after his meet-up with Francis]

[impure_tale]

[The sight unsettles him a bit, because he can't really recognize who it is supposed to be that her dog's having at.]

Did it not agree with you?

[she doesn't know yet] [WIBBLY TIME]

[routemistress]

It's that Lecter. Cheekbones and slippery 'air. 'E's even creepier like that.


Oh well, the lads are 'aving fun.

[impure_tale]

...Iris, darling, you should take that away from them. Gently.

[routemistress]

I probably should. Imagine the irony if one of 'em choked on 'is body parts.

[She doesn't hurry; she simply fetches a length of knotted fleece out of her desk drawer, distracts the dogs with that and then picks up the doll. And its detached head, which she pops back on - not very gently.]

Ewww, 'e gives me the right willies. Why couldn't I 'ave a pretty one?

...mind you, even yours is a bit creepy. I don't like the look in 'er eye at all.

[impure_tale]

Oh no, she's certainly up to something isn't she?

[Still frowning.]

I'm going to try something, Iris. And I do apologize in advance.

[routemistress]

I should 'ope she is, or I'm being slandered. Or would that be defamed?

[She leans forward, intrigued.]

Oooh. You're forgiven, Marquis love; what are you going to do?

[impure_tale]

[He pinches the doll's side, very briefly, using as little of his fingers as possible.]

[routemistress]

[It doesn't hurt. He's being too careful for that. But Iris was focused entirely on him, she's alone in her room and she was very much not expecting to be pinched; so she squeaks in loud surprise and practically bounces into the air, one hand on her side where the Marquis pinched.]

Oh!

[She's a quick thinker, and her eyes track almost immediately to the Hannibal doll lying on her desk.]

Oh. Bugger.

[impure_tale]

[He watches her contritely.]

I truly am sorry, but I hadn't actually tested it yet. My doll's already disappeared, you see, but I had quite a terrible morning before it did.

[routemistress]

[She raises an eyebrow.]

That's 'ardly worth being sorry for, Marquis. You all right now, though?

[impure_tale]

[A forced smile.]

A little sore, perhaps, but I'm sure it'll pass with the flood.

[routemistress]

I reckon I got lucky. Or my dollie did.

[She means that, and she eyes him across the communicator for a long moment before she speaks.]

...do it again?

[impure_tale]

[And for just a moment there's a spark, his eyebrows raising with interest, but he relents, uncertain, and sets the doll aside.]

There comes a time in one's life when one should put aside playthings and look to actual experience.

[A line he pulled out of his ass, to be sure, to sound perhaps a little more elegant than he would have being totally straightforward.]

[routemistress]

[For a moment, her own eyes are bright, open wide - and then her mouth tightens in disappointment and she drops her gaze to the Hannibal doll on the desktop. She doesn't poke at it, though she has to make a conscious effort, now, not to.]

Is that a rejection or a counteroffer, Marquis? Either way, did you want to 'ang onto 'er?

[impure_tale]

More the latter, but fairly warned that my doll was perhaps not so kindly handled earlier, and I fear I would be an ill-equipped host.

....I do think it safest if you come and claim her at the very least. I would hate for accidents to happen.

[routemistress]

Rain check it is. I'm on me way, I'm just giving Lecter 'is dollie back.

[There's a moment's pause, and then Iris comes back on screen, grinning like a cat.]

'Old on, I might know someone else that wants 'er.

[bodilesswarrior]

[Cheeky wave!]

Thanks for looking after it.