Clockwork ballerina requires assistance

[myironeyes]

[Voice, Private to Friends, at various points throughout the flood]

[He sounds both flatly mechanical and extremely disgruntled.]

Could someone please come...wind me?


[Spam]

[OR you can just come across Marsh in the hallways, in plain clothes with artistic joint articulation drawn on instead of his normal dementor-shroud, with a giant bronze key sticking out of his back, frozen in rigid poses, scowling while Aster hops worriedly from his head to his outstretched hand to the key and back again. Aster may also have tugged you to him by your hair with much cheeping and flapping.]

Comments

[shakenandlimp]

Ow-- ow, you beast, I am going, stop that. [Bush is in a red coat with pipe-clayed trim and belt today, and that feels a little odd, but then it also feels proper. A piece of tin slag, roughly the same shape as a heart, is pinned to his breast, and one white trouser leg is cut away to reveal his metal leg.]

Oh lord, you've run down, sir.

[With large gestures, he turns the key, tilting his whole torso into a strange pose at every crank]

[routemistress]

[Iris, meanwhile, is having trouble fitting her enormous skirts down the standard hallways; but she's full of immediate concern when she sees Marsh.]

Oh darling, 'old up there, I'm coming. Shhh, birdie, I've got 'im.

[She makes soothing noises at the cockatiel while she heaves on Marsh's key.]

Good thing I found you and not them mice. Bite your bits off as soon as look at you, mice.