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[painteddoll]

Foolishness! We have been over this, loveliest. When you know that is not how the story goes, why must you insist on trying to tell it that way? Drag, if you must, but she will not come willing or easily. Neither of them. No mercy, no mortal.

...Oh. But to dear Scorpy, first? Well, with him...that's another story. I think you know how well Dolly would love to play with fresh, warm, breathing insides. Bringing that look to what certainly counts as his pretty face...yes, yes. Let's play THAT.

Comments

...There is a SEVERE lack of TDC icons. Fandom must get on it, please excuse my sad and lonely one.

[demonicmaenad]

[Here is Wick, frowning in the direction of her writer.]

You're here? They've got everybody don't they. [This is less derogatory at the writers, and more just...a little in awe.]

amen. thank goodness it's only a few more weeks before screencaps! even i can't wait!

[painteddoll]

[Doll holds out her hands, gesturing with a shrug, and a look of pure excuse you? Of course Dolly is here, you dopey harlequin. Where the - excuse our pun - hell else ought she be, if the party is up here?]

HNNNNGH. yes good.

[demonicmaenad]

[Her eyes narrow.] Hey, I didn't think they'd get you. Or at least get you and not Scorpion.

[she shrugs right back] Not much room for performing is there?

[painteddoll]

[All smiles and pretend-pity, the expression changes to you poor, simple dear as Doll gingerly presses her hands together. No one gets a Doll. A Doll comes and goes as she pleases.

...And sometimes, believe it or not, has something to say.

She considers this remark with a little finger wiggle, but doesn't have much more to - ha! - say on the subject. Doll could sing anywhere she liked, if she wanted to.]

[demonicmaenad]

[Her eyes roll in response] Always so profound.

...Is yours at least lettin' you work? I wanted to perform. To work with my girls you know? [She places her hands on her hips, straight] But they've all run off probably having fun or something without me how unfair is that?

[painteddoll]

[And Doll's flutter, equally as sarcastic.

But then it's her turn to roll them, allowing a moment or two for the glass one to settle. Work is nowhere near what we could call what we are doing. Without an audience, what work can be done? Doll knows a lot of things, but not that. The writer is threatening to turn to restless, silly fantasies. So, reluctantly, she shakes her head.

Oh, dreadful. No little clown harpies to keep the mistress company? Here's a faux-sympathetic pout, little one. Dreadfully unfair, dearest. Dreadfully.]

[demonicmaenad]

[She shrugs.] I figured. And well if somebody isn't lettin' you perform..

...we could stage a revolt. no! a revolution! I mean there are just...so many sinners around here... [she could pace and she does.] It's terrible. Not a one of them are sufferin' doll. Not a one.

[painteddoll]

[Doll simply shakes her head. Has the little clown not looked at their surroundings? Everyone suffers. Perhaps they have not gone anywhere, after all. And yes, the setting could use a carousel, a big top, maybe, but revolutions are for Lucifer.

...At least, the kind Doll deigns worthy of participation are.]

[demonicmaenad]

[She puts her hands on her hips.] One day, you're gonna actually tell me something and I'm looking forward to that day. Might be the time of day, might be "no", might be something but it'll be an actual word and I'll be happy.

[She is however, several feet away as she says this because she's not stupid. If she wanted to pick a fight...she'd do it with her girls as back up. Especially against the Painted Doll.]

[painteddoll]

[Fingertips barely touching her own collarbone - a gesture of me, honestly? - Doll shrugs and flutters her lashes again as her eyes roll skyward. Dramatic sighing motions. What is this obsession with bringing her to a state of vocalization? First the writer, with her dreadful little ideas, now the harlequin. Honestly. She sings when she wishes, isn't that enough? A Doll doesn't need to open her mouth in order to say all she means to, does she?

[demonicmaenad]

[She's the clown, they could be polar opposites]

One little word, in my hearing that's not in song. ...Although your songs are pretty.

[Surprising sincerity, for two point five seconds.]

Still think I oughta get a little more stage time, but I'm sure we'll get some appropriate sinners one day.

[painteddoll]

[No, no, no, no - and that's something she could almost sing. Almost. Hardly listening to the girl, she shakes her head no, stiff and mechanic, as if to a metronome beat - until. Well, yes, of course. Nod, nod, nod. Yes, Dolly's songs are rather perfect, aren't they? She wriggles her shoulders, almost the same silent beat, proud as a little peacock.

Because of the compliment, she at least gives consideration to the child's desire, although, of course, it's not her time to give. Nor would she be as considerate if it was her own time to give up, too, that might bring little Wick into the spotlight. She boops the clown girl on the tip of her nose. Patience is a virtue!]

[demonicmaenad]

[She withdraws, not falling back.] ...It's like playing charades without any hints.

[painteddoll]

[Hints? To make herself as clear as possible, Doll holds out her hands and rubs one index finger over the other: shame, shame. Hints are cheating! Where's the fun? Only sinners want that kind of help...]