Salvio sees it, and thinks, That is not a pillow, but he has this thought just as he is pulling back the thin blanket, so it is too late, really--
(His bed is one of standard issue, situated in one of the dormitories. By some illusion, it might appear narrower than the others, meager and mean. But it is probably just that: an illusion. All of the beds are the same. Painfully, regimentedly the same.)
The blanket drops off of the rounded curve of the jar, the final veil in a horrible striptease that no one asked for. Salvio recoils in horror.]
[Salvio's recoil has put him a few steps back from the bed, and has drawn his blanket half off the bed to be clutched, modestly, to his chest. It makes for a poor shield. It is still better than nothing.]
[A protest, though he does clutch the thin blanket closer to his chest just then. What power do those eyeless eyes have? It is unknown.]
I was not even thinking of, anything, of the sort--it is just, this, is my private, my-- not private, precisely, but my bed, Inqu-- Riftwatch issue, bed, and I did not expect to find such a-- you.
[He lets out a great breath, a sharp and stressed exhale that does little to calm him. And he does not drop the blanket.]
[An entirely involuntary noise. Salvio stumbles back another step. His legs are long enough that this stumble closes the distance between his bed and the empty bed to the right of his. The back of his knees hits the edge of the mattress, and he falls back onto it, clumsy and ungainly, sweeping his blanket the rest of the way off the bed and leaving the Skull entirely bare.
Is his fearful surprise because of the eyes, or the admirer? Well, he had started first when there were suddenly two eyes, so the first part is for the eyes. Now he trembles, staring with great apprehension at the figment in his bed.]
[A nemesis is somehow less terrifying a prospect, and more to be expected. Salvio leaves the blanket where it is all the same, and does not attempt to rise from the peculiar half-curl that he's adapted on the mattress of the other bed.
He considers the unnamed nemesis. And then the Skull.]
I-- well, I-- I would not call you a knick-knack. Myself. [Mostly because that is not a word that Salvio knows. Or is it two words? But anyways, he is telling the truth, there.] I... um, well--I wouldn't.
[By the Maker, the slowness of the turn is worse somehow than any alternative. Like a third horrible moon, showing its face. Salvio's fingers constrict on the blanket.]
The second! The, the latter, of the-- I would not call you a knick-knack!
An... object of some sort, [Salvio hazards, boldly, but deflates immediately after. I do not know. Not precisely. But-- all the more reason that I would not call you anything of the-- anything close, to-- that.
[Shit. Salvio releases some measure of his grip on the blanket again, coaxed to lean forward by the timbre of despair he can hear in this voice.
Is he hearing this voice? Truly, it is hard to say. It seems to enter by way of his ears--so the Skull must be speaking, and he must be hearing what it is speaking, and anything else or more need not be considered. He swallows, hard.]
I suppose I might have the-- the merest-- Well. If you told me.
[None of this is settling the question of how the Skull came to be within his bed in the first place--by whose hand--but that can come in a bit.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Salvio sees it, and thinks, That is not a pillow, but he has this thought just as he is pulling back the thin blanket, so it is too late, really--
(His bed is one of standard issue, situated in one of the dormitories. By some illusion, it might appear narrower than the others, meager and mean. But it is probably just that: an illusion. All of the beds are the same. Painfully, regimentedly the same.)
The blanket drops off of the rounded curve of the jar, the final veil in a horrible striptease that no one asked for. Salvio recoils in horror.]
Wha-- What are you-- What--
no subject
[ Really it hasn't been that long, but when you don't have arms with which to maneuver bedding, or legs with which to leave, it gets so very
very
dull. ]
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[Salvio's recoil has put him a few steps back from the bed, and has drawn his blanket half off the bed to be clutched, modestly, to his chest. It makes for a poor shield. It is still better than nothing.]
no subject
[ The skull doesn't wave its arms or legs, for it has neither. ]
no subject
[No, wait, the real question--]
You were--placed?
no subject
[ A pause, then: ]
no subject
[A protest, though he does clutch the thin blanket closer to his chest just then. What power do those eyeless eyes have? It is unknown.]
I was not even thinking of, anything, of the sort--it is just, this, is my private, my-- not private, precisely, but my bed, Inqu-- Riftwatch issue, bed, and I did not expect to find such a-- you.
[He lets out a great breath, a sharp and stressed exhale that does little to calm him. And he does not drop the blanket.]
Who-- who placed? Why?
no subject
[ Two cartoonish eyes pop into existence within Skull's sockets at the moment he says eyes, roll exaggeratedly, and then disappear. ]
no subject
[An entirely involuntary noise. Salvio stumbles back another step. His legs are long enough that this stumble closes the distance between his bed and the empty bed to the right of his. The back of his knees hits the edge of the mattress, and he falls back onto it, clumsy and ungainly, sweeping his blanket the rest of the way off the bed and leaving the Skull entirely bare.
Is his fearful surprise because of the eyes, or the admirer? Well, he had started first when there were suddenly two eyes, so the first part is for the eyes. Now he trembles, staring with great apprehension at the figment in his bed.]
I, I-- I do not!
no subject
[ He bobs gently, turning his once again empty sockets to "look" at Salvio. Almost hastily, this addendum: ]
no subject
He considers the unnamed nemesis. And then the Skull.]
I-- well, I-- I would not call you a knick-knack. Myself. [Mostly because that is not a word that Salvio knows. Or is it two words? But anyways, he is telling the truth, there.] I... um, well--I wouldn't.
no subject
no subject
I am not.
[Um. He... unclenches the blanket. Somewhat.]
Who-- who is it, that-- that placed you, in such a way?
no subject
no subject
Well-- no. I do not-- would not-- Um, that is-- [How about just a simple--] No.
no subject
[ It continues to slowly turn. ]
no subject
[By the Maker, the slowness of the turn is worse somehow than any alternative. Like a third horrible moon, showing its face. Salvio's fingers constrict on the blanket.]
The second! The, the latter, of the-- I would not call you a knick-knack!
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
WELL THE JOKE'S ON YOU, SALLY, I DON'T HAVE FEELINGS.
[ A theatrical sniffle would not be out of place with the Skull's tone, but he doesn't want to oversell it. ]
no subject
[Shit. Salvio releases some measure of his grip on the blanket again, coaxed to lean forward by the timbre of despair he can hear in this voice.
Is he hearing this voice? Truly, it is hard to say. It seems to enter by way of his ears--so the Skull must be speaking, and he must be hearing what it is speaking, and anything else or more need not be considered. He swallows, hard.]
I suppose I might have the-- the merest-- Well. If you told me.
[None of this is settling the question of how the Skull came to be within his bed in the first place--by whose hand--but that can come in a bit.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
somewhere, a headless corpse's pants are on fire
at least we know which body belongs to skull now
and someone none the wiser is very confused
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)