Jan 14, 2006 02:56
There's a thief in an armchair by the fire. He looks rather comfortable really, seeing as he's got a bottle in one hand and he's smoking a pipe with the other. Filthy boots are resting easily on the coffee table in front of him and all in all, Dodger looks pretty damn happy with life.
Feel free to spoil, or enhance, his day.
tim hunter,
river song,
morte
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Either way, by the fire is a human skull. It's not floating right now, but resting near the fireplace, as if warming itself.
Sometimes its eyes move back and forth.
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That all changes though, when he's looking into the flames and something on the side of his vision seems to shift.
The skull is eyed suspiciously. But everyone knows skulls don't move, right? They're dead.
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Moments pass. Maybe Dodger has turned away, maybe not. Dodger will either see the skull's teeth shift into large, crushing blocks in its mouth - or he'll see different teeth if he eyes the skull again.
...Maybe it's a trick of the light?
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Which is possibly why he's not entirely convinced that - when he looks back - he'd remembered the original teeth that well.
Only one thing to be done. Investigate! He wanders over and drops to his knees in front of the thing, pipe stuck in his teeth and still with the bottle in one hand.
The skull gets a poke.
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Then the skull soars up into the air, stopping to hover at six feet and stare down at the boy. Its teeth shift once more - now they're a normal human's, but they seem to glow with a faint golden light.
"You have disturbed my slumber, mortal!" the skull bellows.
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Surprising how much a ten year old boy sounds like a girl when they scream in terror.
Or maybe not.
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Only to stop a good few feet from Dodger and shift its teeth back to normal.
And burst into laughter. That too.
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...but he stops as the thing starts laughing. And glares at it.
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Eventually (a long eventually), after a deep, unneeded breath, he calms down.
He floats towards the pipe, picks it up with his teeth, and moves to plop it on the table Dodger had been sitting at.
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'Might've made me spill me brandy.'
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"There are too many high-and-mighties bangin' around this kip. Figured I'd act like one of 'em for once." He doesn't add that it was also funny, figuring that was implied.
He eyes the glass and the bottle. "Yeah, I might've," he adds, unconcerned.
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The skull's casual attitude towards his brandy does not go unnoticed. And is not appreciated at all. Would the skull have replaced it if it had got - *gasp* - broken?!
He thinks not.
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"For all I know, you might've been one. I seen a chit can become a kid, a goddess of...ahem, love. But you weren't. Your bad luck, cutter, to run into a bored undead skull."
Having scared a kid and explained the wherefor of it, the skull now feels he can bob on off.
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He hadn't understand a damned word of that.
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