feigns | ► one → video/action。

[There’s a teenager!

He’s wet, in something of a ‘I’m going to ignore how much of a drowned rat I appear’ way. One might assume that he fell into the fountain at some point, but equally, the all-encompassing wetness may have something to do with the fact that he was just in England, aka the land of copious amounts of tea-and-rain. His expression, for the record, reflects his irritation at being displaced without warning, frustration from trying to get whatever this might be to work (he's not entirely convinced it is), and curiosity. You know, at the whole ‘suddenly displaced, this isn’t London’ thing. It’s hard not to wonder about something like that.

When he finally speaks, he sounds Remarkably British, although his accent is rather indistinct for the most part – southern, one might assume, well-brought up, although there’s a slight hint of Welsh. No, he doesn’t do anything untoward with sheep. London doesn't have sheep.]

Normally, one only has to ask for my company to be granted with it. [This? This would be the unmistakable tone of `GRUMPINESS`.] I do try to make myself available for all, but it can’t be helped if someone misses out here and there. Kidnapping tends not to be the answer, though. If I said I was impressed, I’d sadly be lying, but if it makes you feel any better, you can pretend I’m of that opinion regardless. Likewise, I think you’ll find you’ve managed to overshoot ‘mysterious’.

[There’s a pause, and for a moment, there’s a flash of wry amusement in his expression, as if this entire scenario is utterly ridiculous to the point of absurdity.] “I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?'” I hope you won’t mind if I happen to refuse any bottles labelled ‘drink me’, or any foods labelled ‘eat me’. I’m quite content with who I am and don’t envision any existential crises a la dear Alice.

I won't decline any explanations, though, even if they happen to come from hatters and caterpillars and assorted small mammals with a fondness for tea and an inability to correctly tell the time.

[There’s another pause, and after he glances away from the device and up at the sky, he shoves the device into a pocket – without, for the record, bothering to turn it off, so have fun with the sound of footsteps and the wonderful blackness of pockets until the device times out.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Have a look of mild surprise!]

Hello. It is particularly pleasing on the ear, isn't it? And it would certainly appear so.

I'm Dulcie!

[Dulcie waves into her device. Now that it's not in extreme close-up, William may notice Dulcie's wings. They're white, with about a six-foot span. Today she has decided to decorate them with Xs and Os.]

Dulcie. [The wings grab his attention enough to distract him from the fact that he didn't bother with a 'miss'.] That's quite the impressive set of wings.

Thanks! I grew them myself.

[Her wings shake themselves out and preen happily.]

Are you gonna tell me your name, or do I have to guess?

[He watches her for a moment, before shooting her a grin.]

And what would you guess my name to be?

[Dulcie contemplates the screen carefully.]

John... Collingwood.

John? [Mock offence is a go.] No, my name has a slightly more impressive history to it than 'John'.

Edgar?

William.

William Herondale.

Darn, I was going to guess Fabian next.

Has anyone giving you the low-down on this place yet?

Fabian's a touch foreign.

[A pause.] I've been given a guide and told in a rather roundabout manner to expect fiction to take on a life of its own.

Is it? I loose track sometimes. Names change so quickly.

Pretty good explanation, really. Oooh, and there's curses! We get cursed here. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes really weird shit goes down, and sometimes they're outright terrifying. Yesterday people thought they were cats.

I intend on having mine for my entire life.

...Cats?

Yeah, you know. Small domestic mammal. Furry. Likes to purr and nuzzle things. Prone to taking naps in the sun.

I'm familiar with cats, but not with people who believe they are cats.

You never know, here. You could very well come from some sort of freaky no-cat sexy-accent-land.

It was one of the more harmless and very entertaining curses, as far as they go.

[That gets a laugh.] Would it really be that strange? I would have to warn you, though, that not everyone's fortunate enough to sound as good as me.

How far do they go?

We all had clones a while back. That was really freaking. And there was a curse that made everyone think they were married. It was pretty awkward in the morning.