[a beat, and then she takes the dog, and gently puts the others down. you know, like the way people who think toys come alive at night like toy story do, all arranged and with their limbs comfortable.]
I'll come back for you.
[she informs the other three, and then hops back over the counter to show daan her prize, proudly.]
[she does! she's like genuinely pleased, grinning at him. also, that thought gets her to be thoughtful for about half a second. hasn't seen a tulip in a while, huh. mentally rubs her hands together.]
It's a good name. Thanks, Daan. [thanks for playing along.
a beat.]
Wanna get food? I really want one of those turkey legs.
[ Me shaking crying at my crumbs of Dutch heritage Daan like 🥺... ]
Are you ever not hungry?
[ He says but his hunger is probably at like 50 right now. He is so tired of bland-ass food. The fair accommodations do smell quite good and there's a small floating '?' that fades in over his head. Curious about it. ]
[🥺 gonna get you a tulip daan it's gonna be the best tulip you've ever seen]
I'm a growing girl! [she jokes, laughing brightly. so like, yeah. she's always hungry. she rests a hand on his arm as she passes him to peek at one of the food booths.]
Got to be this height because of my vegetables or whatever. Maybe if I get you a dozen turkey legs you'll shoot up a couple inches.
I'm already past the growth phase. And I'm a perfectly fine height, thanks?
[ Karlach is just too big. I don't think turkey legs are very common in Europe especially in 1942, it's such a weirdly American thing. He's looking at it like... whoa... these are honking huge drumsticks... wtf... ]
He frowns a bit... at the idea of just SIMPLY HOLDING THIS DRUMSTICK WITH HIS BARE HAND? He holds it so daintily and picks at the skin a little bit. He tears off a piece and eats it. ]
...It's good.
[ Objectively a turkey leg from a fair is delicious, even if he has to get pretty messy to eat it. ]
[ Love how my opener bracket apparently went missing, thanks mobile. Even a paper towel comes a bit close to eating chicken wings with his bare hands but that's fine he doesn't actually have a big problem with it outside of being a bit of a priss. ]
Makes you understand why salt and spices were such a valuable traded commodity.
Could've practically made an economy among us if we actually had any.
she snorts at that - her tail is wagging a little as she eats.]
Really drives in the prison aspect, huh. Bargaining with the guards for pipes and salt and things to wash your hair with. [little sigh.] Not that I've ever been for more than a few days, but still.
I've never been to prison so... you have more experience than me?
[ ...I wonder if they've discovered the bodies by now. Probably have, it's been long enough... Did the Baron even leave me anything in the will? Can't decide if it's more or less suspicious if I'm actually in it... ]
What would you end up behind bars for anyways? Picking bar fights?
concerning thought, help. she glances at him, distracted, before realizing he asked her a question.]
Nah, even if that is much cooler. I was maybe eighteen? My parents were gone, so I'd gotten booted out of our house. I was starving, so I stole an apple off a cart, and got into a fist fight with the cart owner.
[another bite of food.]
It was only like three days or so. They didn't have room to keep me in.
[ Man. His brow furrows minutely thinking about it. She can probably catch loose, vague thoughts thinking about street kids, the sorts of situations they end up in. Gangs. Red light districts. Unscrupulous militaries. ]
They always just used you for your body, didn't they?
[silence, for a moment, as she rubs at her engine.]
... Yeah. [there's a general sense of - weariness, from her thoughts. something run down and just like, whatever, who cares.] It's mine, though. I won't let anybody take it from me again.
[and then there's the little stream of thoughts that are sort of like - thinking about the memory she saw from him, his arm, giving up parts of himself for others.
her tail comes out to settle at his ankle, just touching to touch.]
[ Maybe more people should care! People who stop dying at least.
He doesn't say anything in response to the fleeting thoughts. He doesn't exactly want to, it's not like he ever gives these things up freely and willingly, but it is what it is -- is the vibe. Black market. Occult healing. Comfort and release. The body is a cheap price to pay, comparatively. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ He's from a Rpgmaker game, sometimes you get dialogue choice boxes and you also can only pick one out of four. ]
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[a beat, and then she takes the dog, and gently puts the others down. you know, like the way people who think toys come alive at night like toy story do, all arranged and with their limbs comfortable.]
I'll come back for you.
[she informs the other three, and then hops back over the counter to show daan her prize, proudly.]
I want you to name it.
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[ Damn. He looks at it and his first thought is Pickles... ]
I'm no good with naming stuff.
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Me either. But will you indulge me?
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Uh...
[ She can get a few smatterings of things he's digging for in his brain. ]
Tulip?
[ Does gender matter, he doesn't know what she assigned this dog plush. ]
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she grins widely when he offers that, tail wagging.]
Tulip! I like it. [kisses the dog on the nose.] Tulip and Clive.
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If it works for you.
[ He wonders if it's a bit clunky but if she really does like it... ]
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It's a good name. Thanks, Daan. [thanks for playing along.
a beat.]
Wanna get food? I really want one of those turkey legs.
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Are you ever not hungry?
[ He says but his hunger is probably at like 50 right now. He is so tired of bland-ass food. The fair accommodations do smell quite good and there's a small floating '?' that fades in over his head. Curious about it. ]
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I'm a growing girl! [she jokes, laughing brightly. so like, yeah. she's always hungry. she rests a hand on his arm as she passes him to peek at one of the food booths.]
Got to be this height because of my vegetables or whatever. Maybe if I get you a dozen turkey legs you'll shoot up a couple inches.
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[ Karlach is just too big. I don't think turkey legs are very common in Europe especially in 1942, it's such a weirdly American thing. He's looking at it like... whoa... these are honking huge drumsticks... wtf... ]
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You're fine. [teases.] Here, try this. Just bite into it.
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...It's good.
[ Objectively a turkey leg from a fair is delicious, even if he has to get pretty messy to eat it. ]
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Isn't it? For once, it's got seasonings.
[munches on her own - though she's less dainty about it.]
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Makes you understand why salt and spices were such a valuable traded commodity.
Could've practically made an economy among us if we actually had any.
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she snorts at that - her tail is wagging a little as she eats.]
Really drives in the prison aspect, huh. Bargaining with the guards for pipes and salt and things to wash your hair with. [little sigh.] Not that I've ever been for more than a few days, but still.
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[ ...I wonder if they've discovered the bodies by now. Probably have, it's been long enough... Did the Baron even leave me anything in the will? Can't decide if it's more or less suspicious if I'm actually in it... ]
What would you end up behind bars for anyways? Picking bar fights?
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concerning thought, help. she glances at him, distracted, before realizing he asked her a question.]
Nah, even if that is much cooler. I was maybe eighteen? My parents were gone, so I'd gotten booted out of our house. I was starving, so I stole an apple off a cart, and got into a fist fight with the cart owner.
[another bite of food.]
It was only like three days or so. They didn't have room to keep me in.
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[ IS HE WRONG? KARLACH. ]
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True! [grinning] Look, I regretted it! I don't like stealing.
I got picked up by Gortash a couple days later. Turns out he saw the fight and thought I'd be a scrappy bodyguard, which I was.
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They always just used you for your body, didn't they?
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... Yeah. [there's a general sense of - weariness, from her thoughts. something run down and just like, whatever, who cares.] It's mine, though. I won't let anybody take it from me again.
[and then there's the little stream of thoughts that are sort of like - thinking about the memory she saw from him, his arm, giving up parts of himself for others.
her tail comes out to settle at his ankle, just touching to touch.]
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He doesn't say anything in response to the fleeting thoughts. He doesn't exactly want to, it's not like he ever gives these things up freely and willingly, but it is what it is -- is the vibe. Black market. Occult healing. Comfort and release. The body is a cheap price to pay, comparatively. ]
Was that the only time you'd ever been to prison?
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Yeah. I keep my nose clean, mostly, and if I don't, it's because there wasn't anybody left to report it, and they started it.
[huff.]
The Hells were enough of a figurative one, though.
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[ Just full on goblin with a heart and no trauma, how about that. ]
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