clockwork_doc | OOC/MuseVerse: Inkwell Party!

Current Mood: cheerful
Current Location: Inkwell Bar and Grill

Entry tags:

OOC/MuseVerse: Inkwell Party!

When he's not roleplaying in the Rift or the Nexus, the Doc Brown known as "Clockwork" lives in the Inkwell Bar and Grill, the local restaurant and hangout for his mun Victoria's muses. Clockwork also happens to own the place, so it's very easy for him to conscript it for his birthday. Anyone entering today will find that the bar has a wide selection of various cakes on it for people to sample, along with freezers full of ice cream. Clockwork himself is seated at the bar with a slice of chocolate cake, smiling at anyone who comes in.

Anybody's welcome to drop by, either just to say "hi" or to grab some cake. (One warning -- you might want to avoid the cake on the far left of the bar. Mrs. Plum made that one, and being a dead cook from "Corpse Bride" prone to putting body parts in her meals. . . .)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Don't mention it." Mab nods at the box. "It's a kind of demon (http://www.auburn.edu/~smith01/notes/maxdem.htm), I think. We were using it to annoy some physicists, but they died..." She looks wistful. "...and we just had it knocking about taking up space. I imagine you can find some sort of use for it."

Ignoring the other inhabitants of the room, she wanders over to the cakes (leaving a sad little trail of falling leaves behind her) and begins poking her fingers into the slices. "Why do you humans celebrate birthdays, anyway?" she calls back. "You're just getting older. Are you looking forward to dying or something?"

Clockwork nods quickly, gently setting the demon-in-a-box aside. He has no idea what he'll do with it, but hell, the Inkwell's seen weirder.

He frowns as she wanders over to the cakes and starts poking at them. Good thing there's enough for everybody to get a slice. "It just makes us happy," he says, a little coolly. The temperature in the place may drop just a fraction of a degree. "An excuse to make merry with friends and family." You have no idea about looking forward to dying. You've never been on the other end of the madness you perpetuate.

And Mab may be ignoring the other inhabitants of the room, but they're certainly not ignoring her. At least one of the other Docs is keeping an eye on her. She hasn't done anything threatening yet, but they know how frightened Clockwork gets around Fae.

"Making merry is an excuse in itself. There's never not a reason--you people do it to keep out the cold and the dark, or to ask the light and warm to stay." Mab tastes one of the cakes. "Does one of these slices have a bean or a pebble in it, or something?"

HatterDoc pulls his hat a little lower over his eyes at that sentiment.

Clockwork raises an eyebrow. "Not to my knowledge, no." He just keeps himself from telling Mab to try the cake on the far left. Now that probably has something in it.

"I suppose that rite hasn't lasted, then." Mab is mildly disappointed--no ritual killing to look forward to anytime soon.

She makes her way to the far left of the table, lifts up a slice of the cake, and takes a bite. "But I see this one has an eyeball. My compliments to the chef."

Clockwork doesn't even want to know what she's talking about. Hell, he wishes she wasn't even HERE. His fingers are twitching a little with the effort of keeping his mouth shut. But even though its his bar and his world -- well, old habits die hard. And in the presence of most Fae, Clockwork's first reaction was to stay silent and not upset them. (Probably the smartest reaction.)

It just figures she'd like that one. Clockwork sighs a little. "I'll pass it on." Hell, it'll make Mrs. Plum happy, so why not. On the other side of the room, by the piano, Victor gawks in shock.

"Oh, do." Mab plucks the half-eaten eyeball out of the cake and studies it. It occurs to her that this might be some new rite entirely that the humans have thought up--eating the bodies of the dead on a day of birth. What a lovely symbol! She marvels at the imagination of the humans.

"Who was this, anyway?" She notices the pale boy staring at her, and waves it at him. "Anyone you knew?"

Clockwork isn't sure if she's talking to him or Victor, but Victor seems rather disinclined to answer. Not that Clockwork blames him. Poor kid.

"I--" He pauses. Actually, he has no idea what's in that cake. Mrs. Plum just uses whatever random body parts fall off the corpses who come by. Nobody seems to mind. "It's a mix," he finally said, flatly. "Corpses walk around here." If she wants proof of that, Bonejangles and Emily are probably hanging around somewhere in the crowd.

The pale boy has caught Mab's eye. There's something deliciously liminal about him, something she can't quite put her finger on. "Is he one?"

Clockwork's spine stiffens. This is not good. He likes Victor -- they all do. He's kind of the mutual "little brother" of their gang. And he knows all too well a Fae's penchant for taking interesting people. "No," he says, voice cold. The temperature drops much more noticably this time. "He's just a kid."

Victor, for his part, is edging away a little, looking quite nervous. This is honestly his usual look, but still.

Mab shivers. The cold reminds her of something she doesn't want to remember. "What a lovely child."

She moves over to Victor, wrapping her wings around herself as she does. "It's so very chilly in here," she says softly. "The seasons are changing. Would you be kind to an old lady, and keep me warm?"

Victor makes a "meep" noise, pulling at his tie as he usually does in these situations. Clockwork's eyes narrow in anger. But before either of them can say anything --

"Who the HELL invited you?"

Enter The Mun Herself, not looking too pleased to find a Fae among her muses. She storms over to Mab, eyes fiery. "Seriously, how'd you get in here?"

Mab draws herself up to her full height (which has been shrinking lately) and spreads out her wings. "I go where doors are open, and I take what's been left out for all. I came not with weapons or threats, but to deliver a token of courtesy. I did not threaten, nor did I demand that which was not offered. What have I now done to offend?"

Victoria pulls herself up to her own full height (which, being as tall as Marty, isn't really impressive either) and folds her arms. "All right -- I appreciate you've been making nice," she concedes. "But lady, honestly? I don't think you're the type of -- I'll say person for lack of anything better -- Clockwork had in mind to show up." She looks apologetically at her rather-tormented character. "A Fae's very existence tends to offend when you've been on the other side of 'playtime.'"

Victor takes the moment to sneak off -- or, rather, under the piano. He knows what Fae do to people -- Victoria's "regular" Changeling idea has a Darkling version of him, after all. He doesn't want to take chances.

"If he wanted to exclude me, he should have taken precautions," Mab says crossly. "He knows I've been around, and he should know how to ward us off, even if that rattletrap brain of his didn't retain anything he learned in Arcadia. The humans have been doing their little tricks with the salt and bread and iron for centuries."

She glances at Victor. "Oh, don't quiver so. I don't have anywhere to drag you back to now besides my boudoir, and you'd be right back out again in the morning."

"I didn't think I had to in my own bar!" Clockwork protests. "Been around, maybe, but actually show up for my birthday?!" He quietly files away the info on the salt and bread, resolving to research that. Iron he knows about.

Victor turns brilliant scarlet at that, yanking at his tie. Of course, if Mab tried that, she'd have to deal with two very angry young women the next morning. (Yes, TWO.)

"Of course I'd show up for your birthday." Mab licks her lips. "So many people, so much emotion. Such a ritual. And you'll know next time, won't you? If you don't forget." She raps quickly on Clockwork's head. "See, it's a learning experience!"

She turns back to Victor and extends a hand. "I won't drag you," she adds, "but I do need someone to keep me warm. The nights are so long and so cold and so lonely, and I can show you so many wonderful things." The two young women are welcome to join them, of course. Mab believes very strongly in the philosophy of "the more, the merrier."

Clockwork jerks away from her touch, scowling deeply. The weather around the Inkwell is getting steadily cloudier as his mood darkens. Oh, he'll remember next time. It's kind of useful, having your full-trilogy counterparts be blacksmiths.

Victor whimpers and retreats further under the piano. He's a little scaredy-cat at times. Well, MOST of the time. (As for the two young women, being quite Victorian they'd be kind of shocked. And really, one wouldn't be any good at helping Mab keep warm).

Victoria's just about snap out something when someone interrupts. "You want warm?" A hand closes on Mab's shoulder. "I could give you warm."

It's another Doc, one that isn't seen much. His story hasn't been posted yet. But if Mab turns around, she'll see a Doc with a fiery aura around him. And she probably DOESN'T have to turn around to feel the power of the UNIVERSE radiating off him.

Mab -- meet Phoenix!Doc. And yes, he was just threatening to set you on fire. He could do a lot worse.

Mab can't help it. She basks. The room is crackling with energy, storm on one side and universal fire on the other, all swirling around her. She feels warm, giddy, powerful...she might actually be glowing a little. It's like jump-starting a car battery.

She tangles her fingers in PhoenixDoc's fiery aura, somewhat beyond speech.

PhoenixDoc looks startled for a moment, then shrugs of the "lack of intimidation" and glares. He's on the verge of doing something nasty when --

Clockwork holds up a hand. "No. I don't need anyone getting into a fight in this place." He turns to Mab. "I don't know what you came here for, but you obviously got something you wanted out of the experience. Now please leave."

He appears to be the picture of calm determination, but there's a slight broken note in his voice. Happens when you can't feel safe anywhere.

Mab looks disappointed. "I came to give you that," she says, pointing at the box. "And now I see I'm being kicked out. How kind of you."

She snatches another piece of cake and disappears in a shower of sparkles. Lots and lots of sparkles. The various Docs will be vacuuming glitter out of the carpet for ages.

"Enjoy the cake," he snaps sarcastically after her.

TeenDoc looks at the glitter. "I think I'm gonna work on a new vacuum cleaner design after this."

Vic looks at Clockwork, grimacing. "I'm sorry, I really had no idea she'd show up--"

"I know, I know," Clockwork cuts her off. His hand hovers over his PINpoint for a moment -- it's tempting to just teleport out to some private part of either Chicago or the Nexus and cause a small thunderstorm to relieve his feelings. But something stops him. Something still huddled under the piano. He goes over, crouches down, and checks on Victor. "Hey, kid, you okay?"

Victor looks up at Clockwork. He's (somehow) paler than usual, and looking rather frightened. Then, suddenly, he scrambles out from under the piano and gives Clockwork a hug.

Clockwork's startled, but returns it, feeling awful. Yeah, that door's getting warded with iron first chance he gets. "I'm sorry, Victor. I never meant--"

"It's not your fault," Victor interrupts. "I just -- have that effect on -- I'm sorry you had to deal with that for twenty-odd years!" He looks over at Victoria, frowning. "I'm never complaining about anything you put me through again!"

". . .Good," Victoria says weakly. "Here, look, let me get you some more cake and hopefully some new guests will arrive and -- you know, I gotta call someone who will make this all better (http://museicalmarty.livejournal.com)." She dashes out.

"In the meantime, let's get some fresh cake out here," HatterDoc says, eying the poked pieces disdainfully.

"Let's," Clockwork nods, releasing Victor and heading for the bar. He's fully ready to put this incident behind him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

OOC/MuseVerse: Inkwell Party!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject