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insertquoteinlatin) wrote2021-05-21 11:01 pm
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RESIDENCE ✦ Residency
GEMBOND ✦ EMERALD
I say, I was not expecting to encounter such a fascinating apparatus. Though I wonder if profundity is not lost in the spoken word. Far from me to cast aspersions on the magnificent Graham Bell, but it seems to me as if the god Hermes himsel--{BEEP]
INFO ✧ PERMISSIONS ✧ OVERFLOW ✧ CONTENT WARNING
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I'd come riding a midnight black steed, or a gigantic toad...whatever your people use for quick transportation.
[He kisses the top of his head again for good measure.]
I approve of the key ring. Very symbolic.
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A toad? What sort of people would ride toads?
[They're slimy, how gross. He's busy thinking about toads while Daniil takes off his shoes - so considerate? - and takes that as a sign that he should sink even lower, until he's completely laid his head in Daniil's lap. Hm, yes, 10/10.
After a moment he reaches up to touch his cheek, fond. He can't possibly thank him enough for just... showing up? Dropping everything to come and listen to his woes? Mm.]
You'll stay, won't you? Can your steps against death wait until morning?
[Or whatever the heck he was doing at home, Danya Stuff...]
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Ah, forgive me for always picturing you as a beautiful fairy tale prince in your emerald castle. Do you know toads can jump fifty feet or more?
[Very fast and efficient. Pity Daniil would crack his skull in the first hop. So perhaps it's quite fortunate there are no domesticated toads in Connie's world?]
I'll stay. [He says without hesitation. Yes, he's married to his work, but he's also terrified of losing his people again.] As for that specimen, its contractions must have ceased by now. Alas, galvanization and chemistry can only take them so far.
[Either that or he will have to delve under his bed for a severed foot again.]
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It's a house, actually. I could show it to you on my mirror. [The magic one, so maybe don't think too hard about that right now. Governors don't get castles; it's a big house? That counts? Doesn't matter. Constantin smooths a thumb over his cheek before dropping his hand to find Daniil's and hold it secure against his chest. Yes, stay, and stick pins and needles in whatever that "specimen" is later. Contractions...?
He is too full of liquor to understand medical mysteries, for sure, but that won't stop him from asking:]
What sort of specimen?
[Like... a rat or something... surely a Whole Thing...]
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[Daniil has been learning about computers. He can't imagine how he survived without e-mails until now! Science is all powerful indeed.
He pats Connie's chest, enjoying the feeling of his heartbeat. Mmm, he thinks his boyfriend might be falling asleep. Hopefully the answer to his question will not excite him too much?]
A foot. It belonged to a young lady, but I had to perform an amputation after her tragic accident, so she kindly gave it to me as payment for my services. I've been stimulating it with chemicals and electrodes in an attempt to replicate motor responses. Naturally, that's only an imitation of life, but a careful study of what it lacks may lead me to the real prize!
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What would a foot come back to life do for the rest of its time? Just toddle around?
[What a life. Would the foot be bored. He considers it, and the alcohol makes it less morbid, which is pleasant. Much to think about vis-a-vis poking body parts. He looks up at Daniil again.]
My mirror is magic— don't make faces. [he's watchin] I have it in my pocket, do you want to see it now?
[Indulge him, darling. He's already tugging the fancy little compact out of his pocket by its pretty chain, so please admire it.]
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I honestly wish I knew. This one merely contracts itself and wrings its toes, but it has probably lost impetus by now. Of course, if I had a whole body, it would be a completely different matter. There's nothing more stunning than a proper reanimation.
[Constantin knows the little doctor so well. He does make a face at the m word. Still, he can't help but abide to his dear's wishes, especially when he's in such a sad state.]
...I see it comes in a beautiful shape, at least.
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Later, though. The poor foot.]
Darling, is there a foot sitting out on your dining room table as we speak? What if she tried to escape before losing her verve?
[Imagine! Anyway, the mirror: once he's got it open he squints at it for a moment, to ensure that the random memory of hopefully his house is, indeed, his house, then he holds it up so Daniil can see. The house is large, and since this is a point-of-view memory, the sight of it keeps bobbing in and out as the past Constantin looks at all kinds of other things - the truly annoying amount of stairs up to the house, the construction scaffolding still clinging to its far side, the little brownstone next door, a side street leading to who knows what kind of exciting mysteries - but at the top of the stairs, the house. A guard hastens forward to open the front doors, revealing just a glimpse of opulent tile flooring and another staircase on the far side of the foyer, and then the memory loops back to the beginning.
Please behold!!]
You made a face.
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It would be very exciting if she did, wouldn't it? [His whole face is alight with the idea, like a little boy presented with very sugary chocolate cake.] That would be a new record, and perhaps a sign of sentience!
[But oh, your Excellency, your house is so big. He's making another face again, but this time it's a mix of wonder and concern.]
I did.[It's a magical mirror, he can't help it.]But, dear...Don't you feel a little claustrophobic now? Your new home is very nice, but much smaller than what you're used to.
[Should he procure a French villa for him? He will have to threaten a lot of people, but he could give it a try.]
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In that case, I wish her all the best. Should she hop down to the Embassy, I will help her with the paperwork.
[Hah... now, as for this house, it's certainly not tiny... Constantin looks at the mirror again, still looping his New Serene memory.]
The ground floor and the one above are offices for myself and my staff, and the reception room to entertain annoying ambassadors. [Which sucks and he hates doing that, but c'est la vie.] My actual living space is solely the third floor.
[Constantin reaches for his hand to hold again, thinking and trying not to dip back into the deep melancholy over... architecture.]
My most fastidious defender, always looking out for me— worry not! I like this house.