OPEN | prompt three | PAIN

[wrens]

prompt three | P A I N dressing-room style. start your own thread. tag others. wash, rinse, repeat. open to all.

 

Comments

[doggerel]

[ They're similar in that respect, in needing some form of distraction in order to keep control over their moods and, therefore, always seeming a bit off by normal standards. If there is something distanced and strange about Chapter, it compliments Verse's own quirked personality enough that it never bothers him.

He hums again, a tune this time, the particular arrangement of notes slightly off tune and awkward. ] Look but don' touch, [ Verse says, the strange cadence of his voice adding little barbs of over-emphasis to his diction. ] Not until it's green light, go. So says the queen.

[caput]

[He sees the warning -- he's often reminded of it and makes sure he reminds Verse in turn. Love your job; just don't get too excited.

Chapter gives it a pause for thought, placing emphasis on his movements and expression. Pursed lips, creased brows, deep exhale, bouncing on the balls of his feet.]

So says the queen. [Not much he can do about it.] But what say you?

[doggerel]

[ Verse does something exaggerated and almost pantomime with his eyebrows. It makes him look like a silent movie actor trying to speak the lines with just the flip flop of his brow. ] I say that someone is hiding things. Hands in the cookie jar. Kid in a candyshop.

[caput]

Oh. Oh no. [He might as well delivered a fake little gasp with his hand over his mouth to complete the act.] That's bad, Verse. Real bad.

[doggerel]

Look but don't touch, [ Verse repeats, a reminder to himself more than anything. (Discipline, discipline.) They're only as useful as they prove themselves to be and making a mess too soon was not useful at all. ] But once the looking's over—

[ —then he could play. Verse breaks into a smile. ]