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randomplaces2013-03-13 08:35 pm
mosaic_archive) wrote in randomplaces2013-03-13 08:35 pm
Entry tags:
Nexus: The House: That Night
((Happens on Jan 15th (same night as the Black Dog Wish Incident).))
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *watching the moonlight through the window. Or, well... it might be moonlight. He realises he hasn't actually seen the moon in this place, and from some of the things he's heard it could just as well be a glowing space whale. Either way, he's sitting on the floor in a room, avoiding his new sleeping bag and sleep in general, and watching the light come through the window, hitting the occasional dust mote on its way to make a square of slightly brighter floor.*
Lizzie: *is that soft door creak, and then a tiny head peeking inside as she comes looking for him after going to check on her amaryllis, which has thankfully stopped blooming and making the entire house smell like flower*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *had left the door slightly open so the latch wouldn't be a hindrance... he knows how much trouble doorknobs can be. Smiles at Lizzie, but the smile is faintly sad*
Lizzie: *comes scooting inside, tugging on the tiny silk kimono that one of the puppets gave her for Christmas, and that she uses for her nighttime outfit*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *hasn't even thought of the possibility of turning on the lights at night, so has just been sitting in here in the dark* This has been a very strange day.
Lizzie: *hesitates as she reaches him, instead of snuggling up like she'd usually do and burrowing under his arm* *looks up at his face* -That's puttin' it lightly.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: This... *meaning his current form, as he looks at his hands* It brings back memories. That is both a good and a bad thing. *misses the snuggling right now, but says nothing about it*
Lizzie: *tiny sigh* -I know how that kin be. Um... I jes' realized yer a bloke now. D'ye still... Um. Dolls're usually fer girls...-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *laughs, but tries to do so quietly so he won't wake the others... if any of them are having any more luck sleeping. Then he'll reach to carefully pick Lizzie up for a cuddle, if she'll allow it, holding her in much the same way as he had earlier that evening at the Black Dog* I am still myself...
Lizzie: *happy to be picked up. Turns those slightly faded brown eyes toward his face* -Yeah. But I'm useta yeh bein' wood 'n cloth 'n gunk.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *quietly* It's what I am used to, also. But in all the ways that matter, I am still myself. Or as much of myself as I have been since we arrived here.
Lizzie: -Wottrya mean?- *leans so she can try to see his face*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: We are puppets, not dolls, Lizzie. You know the difference, ja? Puppets... have strings. Even if you cannot see them. Right now our strings are broken, and so are we... not because of these forms, but because we have lost the person we trusted to hold those strings.
Lizzie: *wriggles till she's gotten down to sit on his knee so that she can lean back and look up at his face from the shadow of her bright blue fake fur wig* *quietly, confused and sad* -But Shade..?-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: He is a cat. He has been a great help to us, but... *reminded of something said by someone who, from his expression, it frightens him a little to think of* What strange creatures that would make us.
Lizzie: -Buh?-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: There is much that we have not said, about what we are, about what it means for us to be that way. I would not want you to be afraid of us. But you deserve to know... if you want.
Lizzie: -I know in some places yer horror movie props.- *impression of raised brows, though hers don't move*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: It is deserved, believe me. *slight shiver* To start at the beginning would be a long story... but I am not sleeping anyway. It frightens me.
Lizzie: *scoots down and hurries over to the door, then returns with both her own tiny plush toy and the little teddy bear that she stole the cowboy hat from and which has since become Jester's*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *bit of a smile again* Ja, I suppose those might be needed...
Lizzie: *stops and holds the little cream coloured bear up by one ear. It's a little bit shorter than her, so this sort of works* -He ain't really big enough no more.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: Nein... but sometimes, you have to make do with what little you have.
Lizzie: *snerks and offers the toy*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *will give it a cuddle, or as best as possible given the size*
Lizzie: *climbs up and leans against him* -Don't believe yeh could be scary, Jes'. Not on yer own.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: Alex Whittaker would disagree. Carolyn Bramwell would disagree. Their friends would as well, I think, if any from those times were living. But that is getting ahead of things...
Lizzie: *impression of a frown as she lays back and looks up at his face, her plushie held absently close*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *decides the best place to start... is at the beginning. Or at least what was the beginning for him.* I first met the Toulons when I was nine years old. They had moved to Berlin, where I lived with my mother, and she would take me to their puppet shows.
The puppets I saw then all had strings... normal ones. Herr Toulon had given up practicing magic, because it had hurt him too badly.
Lizzie: *intent, though still seeming to give the impression of that quizzical and confused frown*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I didn't know about the magic then. I did not know about a lot of things, like the reasons behind my mother's absences. They became worse as the years passed. I stayed with the Toulons often, and not just for the shows. Sometimes I would help. They were - and are - like a second set of parents to me.
As I got old enough, I learned that my mother ran messages for people who opposed the things the Nazis were doing. The Toulons were involved as well. And, eventually, so was I.
Lizzie: *softly* -'O course.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: The Toulons would travel sometimes, the puppet shows were an excuse, and this way they could make contacts the others could not. I started to travel with them when I was fourteen, acting as Herr Toulon's assistant. Herr Strauss - Pinhead - is from Poland, and I met him on one of those trips.
Despite the difference in ages, we were good friends even then. It was hard to find friends one could trust, when one was involved in the things that we were.
Lizzie: *gives her stiff little nod, but then turns her head slightly as she thinks she catches the faint, far off sound of a snore* -Speakin' 'o Pinhead.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *faint smile* I suppose not all of us are having trouble sleeping. *is not so much having trouble as is afraid to even try it*
Lizzie: -He's huggin' Shade like a teddy bear.- *rubs her face on her plushie, and then looks up again attentively*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *a sigh and he continues* In 1934, when I was 22 years old, my mother was arrested while I was away with the Toulons on another trip. She was just gone, and we never saw her again. This happened... often.
I managed to avoid suspicion and took over her communications, but with my own adjustments. I worked as a bookkeeper, and so I was able to hide information in code among the papers I handled every day.
Lizzie: *over to the crook of his arm so she can snuggle as she lays and looks up at him. Pause to examine his shirt and poke it, liking the texture of the thick, old fashioned flannel*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I managed for a while... but in 1936, a month and a few days after my 24th birthday, they came to arrest me.
I could not let this happen. I knew too much that could put too many others in danger, and the Gestapo had their ways to be persuasive. So I tried to flee...
Lizzie: *looks up, suddenly holding her plush in a death grip* *Jester will feel a very very faint thread of distress that isn't his own*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *trying to be reassuring about a topic that just... isn't, and his expression is a bit distant* It didn't hurt. I felt something hit my back... and I was falling... but I never even felt myself hit the ground.
Lizzie: *snuggles, hiding her face on him as she silently grieves for that long ago young man*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I had told Herr Toulon once about a dream I had. One where I was helping with the puppet shows... but where I was one of the puppets. It had disturbed him, and his wife, and at the time I did not know why.
I found out then... waking up and finding myself in the form you are more familiar with.
Lizzie: -They weren't ready teh say g'bye.- *face still hidden*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: Nein. And neither was I, or it would not have worked. The magic cannot force someone to live. There was a point, as I started to wake, when I could have refused it. But I had unfinished business... the records in my office. If the code was cracked, then my death would have been for nothing.
Lizzie: *looks up at him again, the grip on her plush still firm*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I remember that, at first I did not really think of myself as alive. I wasn't sure what I was, and I didn't think about it. The task was what mattered. The first night after I became Jester, I went back to where I had worked... and I set it on fire.
Lizzie: *soft sound of a mental gasp*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I think it was realizing that I did not want to burn up with everything else that made me decide... I must still be alive, or I would not be afraid of dying.
I escaped easily enough, since I had left the window open, and I returned to the puppet theater.
Lizzie: *impression of lifted brows urging him to continue*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: After that, I helped with the shows... and occasionally with messages and sabotage. Herr Toulon told me anything I wanted to know about... how it was that I had been changed.
A month and a half later, Herr Strauss visited. He had heard word of my demise. I allowed him to see me. Not on the stage, where Herr Toulon could use the excuse that I was some motorized automaton... but out in the open, or as open as the workshop was. We trusted him.
Lizzie: *bit of a seeming of a wibble. Softly* -Hard not teh.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *a nod* He was a truck driver. For the resistance, he would smuggle things - and sometimes people. A few times, when it was safe enough and I was not needed in Berlin, I would go with him.
I was the only puppet like myself for over four years. Then, in 1940, I accompanied Herr Strauss on another of his trips.
His preferred assignment... he would smuggle food to the Warsaw Ghetto. It was impossible for an adult to get in and out past the guards, especially a big scary guy like Herman Strauss.
What was done was that a place would be found in the walls where the fence was loose, or the wall had boards that could be moved to make a small hole, or there was a drain... anything that would work, and the children would be sent out.
They sent four year olds, because if they were older they would have had to wear the yellow star, and younger and they might not follow instructions.
Lizzie: *soft snerk* -Scary.- *snerk* *listens to the snore again, and then once more looks up*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *bit of a smile* To those who do not know him, and who are foolish enough to judge by appearances, ja.
That time, while Herman was removing packages from the truck, a guard found the way the children were getting out.. a gap barely more than a foot in size where loose bricks had been chipped out, in a wall facing the alley we had parked near. Herr Strauss returned to find the guard taking aim at one of the children... so from behind him, he broke his neck.
Lizzie: *tiny mental squeak, and again the soft rush of grieving*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: Unfortunately, the guard was not alone. There was a second on the same patrol. Herman was between them and the children, and he would not move until they had scrambled back to their side of the wall.
I picked up a piece of broken glass in the alleyway, but I was not fast enough... The guard managed to fire before I injured his ankle and... when he fell down, made certain he would not be shooting anyone again.
Lizzie: *shaky mental sigh and snuggles. Still feels of that sadness and mourning*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: At first, it seemed all I could do was stay there, with Herr Strauss, until... until what would come. But he said... he asked if I thought he would be any good at theater. It was the last thing he said, and I knew what he meant. And Herr Toulon had told me what needed to be done.
So I found a cleaner piece of glass, and took the syringe that was kept with... my food. And after that... I managed to contact Herr Toulon so he could retrieve me from Poland.
Lizzie: *quietly* -I gotta give 'im a hug when 'e wakes up.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *bit of a smile* He will like that.
Since Tunneler already told how he and Six-Shooter joined us later that year, that brings us to 1941, and four living puppets in a theater in Berlin. A theater ran by André Toulon and his wife Elsa...
Lizzie: -'N no bloomin' Punch 'n Judy in sight.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: Well, we did have a stringed Hitler puppet, but he was more punching bag than Punch.
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *watching the moonlight through the window. Or, well... it might be moonlight. He realises he hasn't actually seen the moon in this place, and from some of the things he's heard it could just as well be a glowing space whale. Either way, he's sitting on the floor in a room, avoiding his new sleeping bag and sleep in general, and watching the light come through the window, hitting the occasional dust mote on its way to make a square of slightly brighter floor.*
Lizzie: *is that soft door creak, and then a tiny head peeking inside as she comes looking for him after going to check on her amaryllis, which has thankfully stopped blooming and making the entire house smell like flower*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *had left the door slightly open so the latch wouldn't be a hindrance... he knows how much trouble doorknobs can be. Smiles at Lizzie, but the smile is faintly sad*
Lizzie: *comes scooting inside, tugging on the tiny silk kimono that one of the puppets gave her for Christmas, and that she uses for her nighttime outfit*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *hasn't even thought of the possibility of turning on the lights at night, so has just been sitting in here in the dark* This has been a very strange day.
Lizzie: *hesitates as she reaches him, instead of snuggling up like she'd usually do and burrowing under his arm* *looks up at his face* -That's puttin' it lightly.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: This... *meaning his current form, as he looks at his hands* It brings back memories. That is both a good and a bad thing. *misses the snuggling right now, but says nothing about it*
Lizzie: *tiny sigh* -I know how that kin be. Um... I jes' realized yer a bloke now. D'ye still... Um. Dolls're usually fer girls...-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *laughs, but tries to do so quietly so he won't wake the others... if any of them are having any more luck sleeping. Then he'll reach to carefully pick Lizzie up for a cuddle, if she'll allow it, holding her in much the same way as he had earlier that evening at the Black Dog* I am still myself...
Lizzie: *happy to be picked up. Turns those slightly faded brown eyes toward his face* -Yeah. But I'm useta yeh bein' wood 'n cloth 'n gunk.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *quietly* It's what I am used to, also. But in all the ways that matter, I am still myself. Or as much of myself as I have been since we arrived here.
Lizzie: -Wottrya mean?- *leans so she can try to see his face*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: We are puppets, not dolls, Lizzie. You know the difference, ja? Puppets... have strings. Even if you cannot see them. Right now our strings are broken, and so are we... not because of these forms, but because we have lost the person we trusted to hold those strings.
Lizzie: *wriggles till she's gotten down to sit on his knee so that she can lean back and look up at his face from the shadow of her bright blue fake fur wig* *quietly, confused and sad* -But Shade..?-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: He is a cat. He has been a great help to us, but... *reminded of something said by someone who, from his expression, it frightens him a little to think of* What strange creatures that would make us.
Lizzie: -Buh?-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: There is much that we have not said, about what we are, about what it means for us to be that way. I would not want you to be afraid of us. But you deserve to know... if you want.
Lizzie: -I know in some places yer horror movie props.- *impression of raised brows, though hers don't move*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: It is deserved, believe me. *slight shiver* To start at the beginning would be a long story... but I am not sleeping anyway. It frightens me.
Lizzie: *scoots down and hurries over to the door, then returns with both her own tiny plush toy and the little teddy bear that she stole the cowboy hat from and which has since become Jester's*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *bit of a smile again* Ja, I suppose those might be needed...
Lizzie: *stops and holds the little cream coloured bear up by one ear. It's a little bit shorter than her, so this sort of works* -He ain't really big enough no more.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: Nein... but sometimes, you have to make do with what little you have.
Lizzie: *snerks and offers the toy*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *will give it a cuddle, or as best as possible given the size*
Lizzie: *climbs up and leans against him* -Don't believe yeh could be scary, Jes'. Not on yer own.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: Alex Whittaker would disagree. Carolyn Bramwell would disagree. Their friends would as well, I think, if any from those times were living. But that is getting ahead of things...
Lizzie: *impression of a frown as she lays back and looks up at his face, her plushie held absently close*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *decides the best place to start... is at the beginning. Or at least what was the beginning for him.* I first met the Toulons when I was nine years old. They had moved to Berlin, where I lived with my mother, and she would take me to their puppet shows.
The puppets I saw then all had strings... normal ones. Herr Toulon had given up practicing magic, because it had hurt him too badly.
Lizzie: *intent, though still seeming to give the impression of that quizzical and confused frown*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I didn't know about the magic then. I did not know about a lot of things, like the reasons behind my mother's absences. They became worse as the years passed. I stayed with the Toulons often, and not just for the shows. Sometimes I would help. They were - and are - like a second set of parents to me.
As I got old enough, I learned that my mother ran messages for people who opposed the things the Nazis were doing. The Toulons were involved as well. And, eventually, so was I.
Lizzie: *softly* -'O course.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: The Toulons would travel sometimes, the puppet shows were an excuse, and this way they could make contacts the others could not. I started to travel with them when I was fourteen, acting as Herr Toulon's assistant. Herr Strauss - Pinhead - is from Poland, and I met him on one of those trips.
Despite the difference in ages, we were good friends even then. It was hard to find friends one could trust, when one was involved in the things that we were.
Lizzie: *gives her stiff little nod, but then turns her head slightly as she thinks she catches the faint, far off sound of a snore* -Speakin' 'o Pinhead.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *faint smile* I suppose not all of us are having trouble sleeping. *is not so much having trouble as is afraid to even try it*
Lizzie: -He's huggin' Shade like a teddy bear.- *rubs her face on her plushie, and then looks up again attentively*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *a sigh and he continues* In 1934, when I was 22 years old, my mother was arrested while I was away with the Toulons on another trip. She was just gone, and we never saw her again. This happened... often.
I managed to avoid suspicion and took over her communications, but with my own adjustments. I worked as a bookkeeper, and so I was able to hide information in code among the papers I handled every day.
Lizzie: *over to the crook of his arm so she can snuggle as she lays and looks up at him. Pause to examine his shirt and poke it, liking the texture of the thick, old fashioned flannel*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I managed for a while... but in 1936, a month and a few days after my 24th birthday, they came to arrest me.
I could not let this happen. I knew too much that could put too many others in danger, and the Gestapo had their ways to be persuasive. So I tried to flee...
Lizzie: *looks up, suddenly holding her plush in a death grip* *Jester will feel a very very faint thread of distress that isn't his own*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *trying to be reassuring about a topic that just... isn't, and his expression is a bit distant* It didn't hurt. I felt something hit my back... and I was falling... but I never even felt myself hit the ground.
Lizzie: *snuggles, hiding her face on him as she silently grieves for that long ago young man*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I had told Herr Toulon once about a dream I had. One where I was helping with the puppet shows... but where I was one of the puppets. It had disturbed him, and his wife, and at the time I did not know why.
I found out then... waking up and finding myself in the form you are more familiar with.
Lizzie: -They weren't ready teh say g'bye.- *face still hidden*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: Nein. And neither was I, or it would not have worked. The magic cannot force someone to live. There was a point, as I started to wake, when I could have refused it. But I had unfinished business... the records in my office. If the code was cracked, then my death would have been for nothing.
Lizzie: *looks up at him again, the grip on her plush still firm*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I remember that, at first I did not really think of myself as alive. I wasn't sure what I was, and I didn't think about it. The task was what mattered. The first night after I became Jester, I went back to where I had worked... and I set it on fire.
Lizzie: *soft sound of a mental gasp*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I think it was realizing that I did not want to burn up with everything else that made me decide... I must still be alive, or I would not be afraid of dying.
I escaped easily enough, since I had left the window open, and I returned to the puppet theater.
Lizzie: *impression of lifted brows urging him to continue*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: After that, I helped with the shows... and occasionally with messages and sabotage. Herr Toulon told me anything I wanted to know about... how it was that I had been changed.
A month and a half later, Herr Strauss visited. He had heard word of my demise. I allowed him to see me. Not on the stage, where Herr Toulon could use the excuse that I was some motorized automaton... but out in the open, or as open as the workshop was. We trusted him.
Lizzie: *bit of a seeming of a wibble. Softly* -Hard not teh.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *a nod* He was a truck driver. For the resistance, he would smuggle things - and sometimes people. A few times, when it was safe enough and I was not needed in Berlin, I would go with him.
I was the only puppet like myself for over four years. Then, in 1940, I accompanied Herr Strauss on another of his trips.
His preferred assignment... he would smuggle food to the Warsaw Ghetto. It was impossible for an adult to get in and out past the guards, especially a big scary guy like Herman Strauss.
What was done was that a place would be found in the walls where the fence was loose, or the wall had boards that could be moved to make a small hole, or there was a drain... anything that would work, and the children would be sent out.
They sent four year olds, because if they were older they would have had to wear the yellow star, and younger and they might not follow instructions.
Lizzie: *soft snerk* -Scary.- *snerk* *listens to the snore again, and then once more looks up*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *bit of a smile* To those who do not know him, and who are foolish enough to judge by appearances, ja.
That time, while Herman was removing packages from the truck, a guard found the way the children were getting out.. a gap barely more than a foot in size where loose bricks had been chipped out, in a wall facing the alley we had parked near. Herr Strauss returned to find the guard taking aim at one of the children... so from behind him, he broke his neck.
Lizzie: *tiny mental squeak, and again the soft rush of grieving*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: Unfortunately, the guard was not alone. There was a second on the same patrol. Herman was between them and the children, and he would not move until they had scrambled back to their side of the wall.
I picked up a piece of broken glass in the alleyway, but I was not fast enough... The guard managed to fire before I injured his ankle and... when he fell down, made certain he would not be shooting anyone again.
Lizzie: *shaky mental sigh and snuggles. Still feels of that sadness and mourning*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: At first, it seemed all I could do was stay there, with Herr Strauss, until... until what would come. But he said... he asked if I thought he would be any good at theater. It was the last thing he said, and I knew what he meant. And Herr Toulon had told me what needed to be done.
So I found a cleaner piece of glass, and took the syringe that was kept with... my food. And after that... I managed to contact Herr Toulon so he could retrieve me from Poland.
Lizzie: *quietly* -I gotta give 'im a hug when 'e wakes up.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *bit of a smile* He will like that.
Since Tunneler already told how he and Six-Shooter joined us later that year, that brings us to 1941, and four living puppets in a theater in Berlin. A theater ran by André Toulon and his wife Elsa...
Lizzie: -'N no bloomin' Punch 'n Judy in sight.-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: Well, we did have a stringed Hitler puppet, but he was more punching bag than Punch.
no subject
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *wipes at his face and nods, will get up and go looking for Torch*
Lizzie: -There's a TV up here. 'Re they could be in the kitchen by the fridge.- *turns head*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I will check the kitchen first, since they had those sodas. *heads that way*
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: *by a window, with a gingerale float... it's easier than the bottles when it comes to trying desperately NOT to wish it's something alcoholic*
Konrad Hess/Blade: *faceplanted on the table*
Lizzie: *startles* -Blade??-
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: *snerks* He got brainfreeze and konked out.
Hans Seiderman/Jester: How did you get him to do that to himself? I know we're not used to this any more, but he was a doctor...
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: I think he was already too sugar buzzed by the time I thought of showing him how to make ice cream floats.
Lizzie: *looks at the quiet looking little man with his face on the table, and then laughs till she cries*
Konrad Hess/Blade: *snores lightly*
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: *snickers, to Lizzie* I can't get over what he looks like, either.
Lizzie: *sobs, and then tucks her plushie into Jester's hand and reaches for Torch*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *reminded, and holds Lizzie out* She was wanting to hug you.
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: *blinks at Lizzie, then holds out a hand for her* Why? *isn't used to holding dollies*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I was telling her stories and, I upset her...
Lizzie: *quietly* -'Istory.-
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: *doesn't understand what Lizzie just said, and is a little suspicious* That doesn't explain why she'd want to hug me. *uncertainly holds Lizzie close so she can hug if she wants, but is clearly not experienced in holding little dollies*
Lizzie: *big hug*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: I was telling her about... things before we came to the Nexus. *doesn't really want to upset Torch by bringing this up*
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: *isn't stupid, and has at least a half-guess of what Jester might have been telling Lizzie about* You should have stuck to stories about after Rick was around.
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *sighs* She deserves to know, if she's going to be around us.
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: *faint attempt at a smile that doesn't really reach his eyes* Sure you're not just trying to scare her off because of what she said earlier?
Hans Seiderman/Jester: No... *blushes* No, it has nothing to do with that...
Lizzie: *mental snort* -I ain't leavin' you lot, so suck it up.-
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: See? So there's no reason to mentally scar the little dolly.
Hans Seiderman/Jester: We should not keep so many secrets, not from those we trust.
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: Some secrets are better off that way
Lizzie: *bitty bap for Torch* -Yeh think I'm some kinda delicate flower?- *growl*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *quiet chuckle* And now you have insulted her
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: *to Lizzie* No... but anyone can break. And you're a 'kid', even if you're older than us too
Lizzie: -Loik heck I am!-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *softly* You are usually about a fourth our size, and you are not designed to look adult. It is.. difficult to remember you are not a child, because you look like one to us. Because if we were all human, that is the size you would be if you were a child. I know it is just a scale issue, but it confuses me as well sometimes.
Lizzie: -So I don't got no boobies! That don't mean I look loik a kid!-
Hans Seiderman/Jester: *is rather pink now*
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: I guess it's a little hard to explain, since you weren't ever human. There are a lot of... cues people use in regard to age. It's not just the lack of boobies.
Lizzie: -I don't dress loik a kid, do I now?- *feathers so ruffled!*
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: No... but that just makes you register as jailbait
Hans Seiderman/Jester: Torch!
Lizzie: -WOT!???- *actually makes an irate tiny squeak with the force of her shock and ire*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: You haven't been drinking, have you?
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: Just the gingerale... *sighs* Sorry, Liz.
Lizzie: *baps him again. And then hugs him* -Jerk.-
Patrick Bramwell/Torch: *sighs* Apparently I don't have to be drunk to be that sometimes. *patpats Lizzie*
Hans Seiderman/Jester: The only others we have ever been around, besides ourselves, were things like the homunculi or the totems. Scale and design differences are a new thing. I just try to think of you as being... short.
Lizzie: *sighs* -Les' jus' hear the rest 'o that story.- *still hugging Torch*