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.]
[ Who knows, perhaps the voice is being projected directly into your brain, Sal. Or worse yet, perhaps you're imagining it talking. Have you seen anyone else talking to this blasted thing? Troubling... ]
A USELESS OBJECT, THE SORT OF THING YOU PUT ON A SHELF BECAUSE IT'S NEAT AND THEN YOU FORGET ABOUT IT AND IT SITS THERE FOR YEARS, GATHERING DUST, UNTIL SOMEONE DECIDES IT SERVES NO PURPOSE AND YOU REGIFT IT OR THROW IT IN THE REFUSE PILE!
[ No, it is definitely talking, there are others in the group quarters who glance over when the thing speaks, some proceeding to mutter about cursed objects and some giving Salvio significant looks that hint at them misunderstanding why the skull is in the Seneschal's bed. ]
[All too aware of the eyes of judgement behind him, the murmurs that question his motives, this arrangement, Salvio dives back for his bed. He is being watched, and this has made up his mind, committed him to bridge the gap between him and the Skull.
Only now that he's here, his skin crawls. He is entirely too close.
But... at least he's not imagining the talking. Small comfort. In a low and urgent tone:]
I would not say that of you! Any of it, any of it at all. [He tries to position himself between the Skull and the others in the room, shielding this strange object from their sight. Object? Is he part of the problem?] A, ah, thing, you are not-- Or no more than-- than any other thing. Person. Yes. I am sure-- all things, people, have-- purpose. Of some sort.
[But in spite of himself, Salvio has leaned forward by one small jot. It cannot be helped. It is a natural reaction, when someone leans in conspiratorially toward you to impart a secret. Even if that someone is a disembodied skull in a jar.]
[The blanket he was clutching has been lost from his hands now, and it would not be right to snatch it up again. Much as he wants to. Salvio looks around with great urgency, but there are no others who seem to be listening to this-- this-- whatever this is.]
[Salvio rubs a hand over his face. Then he pushes a hand through his hair. His fingers are trembling, a little.]
There has been some mistake, is what I mean. Surely there has been some mistake. A-- A, an incident in the past that you have confused--or, well, not confused, but-- Not to place blame, or-- but you are confused. Surely. Pleased. [Wait, no--] Er, please. That is. Please.
Edited (turns my mistake into an ic mistake) 2019-09-15 04:55 (UTC)
[Wallowing only a moment, Salvio pushes his thumbs into his eyes and rubs them. The sensation of squashing his eyeballs is pleasantly painful. Then he sits up.]
In any case, now that we have... [??] solved this mystery. Of how you came to be here. Is there somewhere, I might, um-- take you?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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, it is definitely talking, there are others in the group quarters who glance over when the thing speaks, some proceeding to mutter about cursed objects and some giving Salvio significant looks that hint at them misunderstanding why the skull is in the Seneschal's bed. ]
no subject
[All too aware of the eyes of judgement behind him, the murmurs that question his motives, this arrangement, Salvio dives back for his bed. He is being watched, and this has made up his mind, committed him to bridge the gap between him and the Skull.
Only now that he's here, his skin crawls. He is entirely too close.
But... at least he's not imagining the talking. Small comfort. In a low and urgent tone:]
I would not say that of you! Any of it, any of it at all. [He tries to position himself between the Skull and the others in the room, shielding this strange object from their sight. Object? Is he part of the problem?] A, ah, thing, you are not-- Or no more than-- than any other thing. Person. Yes. I am sure-- all things, people, have-- purpose. Of some sort.
no subject
no subject
[--is his automatic response. He winces slightly at himself.]
I mean-- well, I did mean it. Do, mean it. It is what I believe.
no subject
[ He looks left, looks right, tips in his jar as if leaning conspiratorially. ]
no subject
[But in spite of himself, Salvio has leaned forward by one small jot. It cannot be helped. It is a natural reaction, when someone leans in conspiratorially toward you to impart a secret. Even if that someone is a disembodied skull in a jar.]
Whoever you are going to say, cannot be--
[By the Maker.]
Who?
somewhere, a headless corpse's pants are on fire
at least we know which body belongs to skull now
W-What?
and someone none the wiser is very confused
no subject
[The blanket he was clutching has been lost from his hands now, and it would not be right to snatch it up again. Much as he wants to. Salvio looks around with great urgency, but there are no others who seem to be listening to this-- this-- whatever this is.]
You are mistaken. Please.
no subject
no subject
[Salvio rubs a hand over his face. Then he pushes a hand through his hair. His fingers are trembling, a little.]
There has been some mistake, is what I mean. Surely there has been some mistake. A-- A, an incident in the past that you have confused--or, well, not confused, but-- Not to place blame, or-- but you are confused. Surely. Pleased. [Wait, no--] Er, please. That is. Please.
no subject
[ The skull tilts, almost cutely. ]
no subject
[He puts his head in his hands. It does not help or--do anything, really. Muffled:]
How does this happen? To me?
no subject
[ aka easy to needle ]
no subject
Please.
[Wallowing only a moment, Salvio pushes his thumbs into his eyes and rubs them. The sensation of squashing his eyeballs is pleasantly painful. Then he sits up.]
In any case, now that we have... [??] solved this mystery. Of how you came to be here. Is there somewhere, I might, um-- take you?
no subject