Vega has, upon occasion, lifted her gaze to this strange man and watched him roll the pen around in his mouth with naked disgust on her face, but this has not stopped him from doing it at all. To refrain from telling him off out loud is to spare him an embarrassment.
Ten minutes later still, she doesn't know why she's bothering.
She has been trying to read and now eyes his pile of papers. ... They aren't the same, are they? Surely they aren't reading the same thing in here, together.
She sniffs, thumbing at pages.
"I read it better than I write—" another scrape; she bursts out, "Will you stop that."
Cedric blinks, and lifts the mangled pen from his mouth -
"Well," He forges on, as though Vega hasn't said a thing about it. "Puts you ahead of me."
He passes the page over, worries at the splintered edge of the reed.
"All I've got is demon, and I've got it maybe six times - then, I think, baby?" He can't mangle enough out of a lacking vocabulary to be certain. "But that can't be right. Unless Lady Sibilla is showing off a haunted doll."
He smiles: A joke, a peace offering of his own ignorance. It's less a letter than a page of rumours,
"Naturally," she mutters, peevishly knocking her stack together against the edge of her little desk, making sure all edges are perfectly aligned. At least they don't seem to be the same material replicated twice for them; what he has is infinitely more interesting than the old reports she has been given to 'gain a better understanding of her new division'—
Demon baby.
She inches her chair closer, taking the proffered paper.
"It is a doll." Here she shows him the word, runs her finger underneath of it. Doll. Right there. She continues, "It has..." squinting, now. Frowning, "Real hair and eyelashes. Disgusting."
"Human remains," Maybe a stretch - but spirits are attracted to the trappings of life. Mortalitasi bind plenty to bone alone; should hair be any different? "Hope there's none in the stuffing."
Under Vega's hand, the pages detail a hard, porcelain construction. Cedric's still making a face, thinking of little baby limbs all wound up in cloth,
"Don't know where she got the thing, but we can't let her keep it."
Vega shudders in revulsion and promptly drops the letter on the floor, as if it may have traces of hair or eyelash on it. Looking at it there she says, "It is made of porcelain. The hair and eyelash could have been a donation from a loved one..."
Is there any point in playing devil's advocate for the demon baby?
"What will we do with it? It should be destroyed."
"No argument from me," Maybe there ought to be: The passing of one spirit displaces another. Only, look how that went back home, and that with only wisps. If there's a true demon in there - "But we can't do it in the middle of a city."
At least not Antiva City. He stoops to collect the letter.
"Less to worry about if we get it back to the Gallows. This place can take a rage demon." Sort of built for it. "Think we could talk her into a deal?"
"Yes. We could put it into the cells below and destroy it there."
By we she means you, because Vega won't be doing that. If she is to be be part of the cohort who collects the doll she won't be touching it then, either.
As for talking her into a deal—
"We should ask around for somebody who could truly connect with her over this... thing she has acquired, with the end goal being to offer a trade. I'm sure we could find some old thing lying around here that also looks like it could be possessed. Perhaps we could take hair from one of the horses, or feathers from the griffons and make our own horrible little object."
For the best, He'll be saying, a week hence, tongs in hand. How much experience d'you have with spirits?
"Good idea," Arts and crafts aren't a specialty, but: "We can say it's Rift-touched. Think I saw a Williams in charge of the griffons - I bet Research has something weird we can start with, think it's too on the nose to ask Strange?"
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no subject
Ten minutes later still, she doesn't know why she's bothering.
She has been trying to read and now eyes his pile of papers. ... They aren't the same, are they? Surely they aren't reading the same thing in here, together.
She sniffs, thumbing at pages.
"I read it better than I write—" another scrape; she bursts out, "Will you stop that."
no subject
"Well," He forges on, as though Vega hasn't said a thing about it. "Puts you ahead of me."
He passes the page over, worries at the splintered edge of the reed.
"All I've got is demon, and I've got it maybe six times - then, I think, baby?" He can't mangle enough out of a lacking vocabulary to be certain. "But that can't be right. Unless Lady Sibilla is showing off a haunted doll."
He smiles: A joke, a peace offering of his own ignorance. It's less a letter than a page of rumours,
They are all, absolutely, about a haunted doll.
no subject
Demon baby.
She inches her chair closer, taking the proffered paper.
"It is a doll." Here she shows him the word, runs her finger underneath of it. Doll. Right there. She continues, "It has..." squinting, now. Frowning, "Real hair and eyelashes. Disgusting."
no subject
"Human remains," Maybe a stretch - but spirits are attracted to the trappings of life. Mortalitasi bind plenty to bone alone; should hair be any different? "Hope there's none in the stuffing."
Under Vega's hand, the pages detail a hard, porcelain construction. Cedric's still making a face, thinking of little baby limbs all wound up in cloth,
"Don't know where she got the thing, but we can't let her keep it."
no subject
Is there any point in playing devil's advocate for the demon baby?
"What will we do with it? It should be destroyed."
no subject
At least not Antiva City. He stoops to collect the letter.
"Less to worry about if we get it back to the Gallows. This place can take a rage demon." Sort of built for it. "Think we could talk her into a deal?"
Since only one of them speaks Antivan.
no subject
By we she means you, because Vega won't be doing that. If she is to be be part of the cohort who collects the doll she won't be touching it then, either.
As for talking her into a deal—
"We should ask around for somebody who could truly connect with her over this... thing she has acquired, with the end goal being to offer a trade. I'm sure we could find some old thing lying around here that also looks like it could be possessed. Perhaps we could take hair from one of the horses, or feathers from the griffons and make our own horrible little object."
no subject
"Good idea," Arts and crafts aren't a specialty, but: "We can say it's Rift-touched. Think I saw a Williams in charge of the griffons - I bet Research has something weird we can start with, think it's too on the nose to ask Strange?"
"You pick one, I'll take the other. Then Antiva."
no subject
And Cedric will speak with Williams, and the griffons. Easy.
"We should ask one of those rifters to make up a story about it."
no subject
Williams is a perfectly normal name, and so probably for a perfectly normal person.
"Reckon between of us, we'll get it sorted easy."