Marsh || Steel Inquisitor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
myironeyes) wrote2015-01-18 09:23 pm
myironeyes) wrote2015-01-18 09:23 pm
that escalated quickly
[Public, video]
[Marsh, the barge's resident friendly constantly dour eyeless spike-horror, is currently lounging on Iris's most garish couch, the first time the vast majority of barge residents have seen him without his Nazgul-style engulfing black cloak, which is tossed over one of the arms of the couch. Underneath he's wearing vaguely 19th-century style workman's trousers and and loose shirt, both in a drab, unpurposeful sort of dark grey. Bumps - and a few poked holes - in the shirt reveal a topography of even more spikes, over a dozen of them, impaling his chest and abdomen in odd configurations. Nevertheless, he seems both drunk - an unlabeled bottle of dark green glass hanging from between his second and third fingertips - and entirely cheerful, laughing in a low rumble even as he's in the middle of protesting.]
- said I can doesn't mean - Iris, put that down -
We're celebrating, you plonker. 'E deserves the recognition. If you don't tell them I will!
-aaaugh, fine, woman.
[He throws his head back against the couch in defeat. There is a small ripping sound from the spike-tips at the back of his skull taking their toll on the upholstery, but he'll mend it later. He's not looking right at the camera - but he's beaming.]
C'Rizz graduated.
[That's all. Marsh isn't really a speech guy. But some people may connect this with the abundance of pie at dinner, the last few days.]
[Spam for C'Rizz, backdated to a little after the thread with Roderick.]
[Marsh's heart stops when he sees C'Rizz vanished from his item. Truly stops, falters in its constant aching rhythm, still beating around the spike perforating his ventricle. Not dead, gone. He tears up the stairs to C'Rizz's room, a shadowy blur, gasps and sags against a wall when he sees the door still there. So. So -]
[Spam for Iris]
[A knock, after dinner.]
Iris, it's me. I want to tell you something.
[He sounds happy.]
[Marsh, the barge's resident friendly constantly dour eyeless spike-horror, is currently lounging on Iris's most garish couch, the first time the vast majority of barge residents have seen him without his Nazgul-style engulfing black cloak, which is tossed over one of the arms of the couch. Underneath he's wearing vaguely 19th-century style workman's trousers and and loose shirt, both in a drab, unpurposeful sort of dark grey. Bumps - and a few poked holes - in the shirt reveal a topography of even more spikes, over a dozen of them, impaling his chest and abdomen in odd configurations. Nevertheless, he seems both drunk - an unlabeled bottle of dark green glass hanging from between his second and third fingertips - and entirely cheerful, laughing in a low rumble even as he's in the middle of protesting.]
- said I can doesn't mean - Iris, put that down -
We're celebrating, you plonker. 'E deserves the recognition. If you don't tell them I will!
-aaaugh, fine, woman.
[He throws his head back against the couch in defeat. There is a small ripping sound from the spike-tips at the back of his skull taking their toll on the upholstery, but he'll mend it later. He's not looking right at the camera - but he's beaming.]
C'Rizz graduated.
[That's all. Marsh isn't really a speech guy. But some people may connect this with the abundance of pie at dinner, the last few days.]
[Spam for C'Rizz, backdated to a little after the thread with Roderick.]
[Marsh's heart stops when he sees C'Rizz vanished from his item. Truly stops, falters in its constant aching rhythm, still beating around the spike perforating his ventricle. Not dead, gone. He tears up the stairs to C'Rizz's room, a shadowy blur, gasps and sags against a wall when he sees the door still there. So. So -]
[Spam for Iris]
[A knock, after dinner.]
Iris, it's me. I want to tell you something.
[He sounds happy.]
no subject
[what was the phrase]
'Ignore my general Marsh-ness.'
[He's got the look on his face that means he's fighting to keep from laughing, and the fond aggravated amusement of it is blurred all through his bright happiness and default pain. He squeezes C'Rizz's hand as they sit beside each other.]
That brat. You, though. You just needed the conviction of your kindness, really.
no subject
Is that your deal? To bring him back?
no subject
[So fond.]
No. I was - tempted, for awhile. He's already died on me twice and even if I could stand it a third time, he reshaped the face of our world doing it. I wondered if it would be wrong, undoing his sacrifice.
So of course he came and got his own deal for himself and his wife while I was still figuring it out.
[Wonderful irrepressible brat.]
So mine's for L'da.
no subject
-wait, what?
[What? His hand clenches around Marsh's]
no subject
no subject
L'da. She's.. alive ?
[If he didn't know entirely how to feel before, he REALLY doesn't anymore.]
no subject
[Time is weird.
And Marsh is super happy for you and your stunned lizard face.]
no subject
[Which doesn't mean he isn't thrilled to bursting that L'da is alive even though that's quite complicated and he understands entirely if after the whole murder/carrying around in head thing she's not as keen to marry him anymore, she's a wonderful woman and she deserves to be alive, but it's why he feels awkward and conflicted about being so happy and why he's going sort of conflicting colours all over his skin, shading dark sandstone to the colour of Marsh's cloak to sandstone and so forth]
Marsh.
Thank you. I don't know how to thank you.
no subject
I...don't know that I've been this happy, in fact.