(Untitled)

[talkstohats]

The relocated castle is very close to the same shape it always was - inside, at least; all the same, there's an undeniable sense of difference, and Sophie is fidgety and curious all morning, wanting to see what's outside

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[wizard_howell]

"Work, work, work." He steps over her casually, almost carelessly, almost as if he doesn't notice... but he does. He notices everything. His suit is still jet black but the whole vampire thing's never held much fascination for him; he's let his hair go fair yellow again. Marching across the room, he plucks the skull out of the sink, holding it up with a bit more thoughtfulness than he might normally give it.

"Alas, poor Yorick!" Letting out a breath, he shakes his head sadly. "She heard mermaids, so it follows that there is something rotten in the state of Denmark. I have caught an everlasting cold, but luckily I am terribly dishonest. I cling to that."

As if to punctuate the everlasting cold statement he coughs, but it's a bit on the pathetic side. He can't even convince himself that the cold will never go away.

It's not to worry over: he's got enough other things on his mind. He stares at the skull as if it ought to be able to simply start talking, but it doesn't even budge a mandible.

How unhelpful.

[talkstohats]

The cough is astoundingly unconvincing.

Sophie rolls her eyes, and exchanges glances with the dog-man, who looks dolefully long-suffering (although it must be admitted that this is nothing new.) "You should go back to Lettie," she murmurs to him, and then looks back up at Howl, with a sigh.

"What's the matter? Miss Angorian not going well?"

She's trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, she really is.

[wizard_howell]

As if it's any of Sophie's business, but he supposes he can be magnanimous enough to confess. "Dreadfully. Lily Angorian has a heart like a boiled stone."

Before Sophie can pry for any more details, however -- and she should be glad she got an actual answer, for all that she likes to accuse him of slithering out of things -- he sets the skull back down in the sink and shouts for Michael. "Food! Work!"

One thing at a time: once the food is done, it will be time to get back to work. And then once work is done... well, maybe then he'll feel like answering more questions.

[talkstohats]

After breakfast, Sophie goes back to work, resolutely ignoring the strange thumpings and clatterings coming from the broom cupboard to which Michael and Howl have disappeared - though it's rather harder to ignore the dust which keeps flying out and marring her nice clean floor.

She's itching to take a broom to the entire place; when Howl and Michael shout her name, she grabs hers and shuffles eagerly into the closet. Except it's not a closet anymore: where the wall had been, there now stands an elegant archway, leading to the steps that used to connect the shop part of the building to the house where the Hatters had once lived.

Empty and echoing, the shop looks nothing like it used to. Between the black-and-white tile and the two lonely-looking vases of waxed-silk roses and velvet cowslips, it reminds her more of Mrs. Pentstemmon's cold grand house than the comfortable place where she'd grown up.

She is, she realizes, being invited to admire it.