guess who is NOT down to clown

[throwabookatit]

nikolai gogol, she still cannot believe that is his name

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[sendintheclown]

[He gives her a rousing round of applause for the correct answer!

He takes the glasses from the disguise set and puts them on- perfect fit, right?]

[throwabookatit]

Don't clap.

[ If only she had something she could raise in a threatening action, besides the box. Like hell she's going to damage Viral's model. ]

Fine, fine, you can take those.

[sendintheclown]

[His clapping, very...slowly...comes to a stop.

He bows his head as a gesture of appreciation, taking the clothes and wig into his arms. He moves to stand and get the mask back but- ouch- Waver's gratuitous stab wounds have him back on the ground.

Well, whilst he's here- why not have fun with it?

He taps the device on his wrist, then opens and closes his palms like a book. Do you know what time it is, Rebecca?]

[throwabookatit]

[ She has no concern for him, but that looked like he was he was in pain for a moment. ...She's...a good person, isn't she? She should help him up...

But, ah. He looks like he's trying to mime something. Her eyes narrow. ]

What? I...don't have time for you, if that's what you're trying to get it.

[sendintheclown]

[Aw, c'mon Rebecca, you're almost there!

He holds up the disguise, mimes the book once more, and gives an encouraging nod. Go on, you can get it!]

[throwabookatit]

[ Ohhh, she hates how patronizing he's being. ]

If you want to read, find Edgar and get him to take you to the library.

[sendintheclown]

[He huffs. He's exhausted with the Detective's babysitting and it's only been a day.

He tries again. Maybe a different approach will work.

Gogol points at himself, then flaps his hand like a beak in front of his mouth, points at Rebecca, and twirls his finger into a point towards the clothing.

If she doesn't understand, he's gonna start running out of ways to mime it.]

[throwabookatit]

I don't- look, I really don't understand whatever you're trying to say-- is it. Do you want to...it has something to do with that silly suit?

[ Why's she humoring him? Ugh, she's just...going to set down the box of her useless things. ]

What's...all this have to do with me? You've got your thing, don't you?

[sendintheclown]

[He moves to clap but then remembers, and opts for an encouraging thumbs up instead.

He points at Rebecca, draws a question mark in the air, and holds up the clothing with a nod. She's bound to have questions about it, yes?]

[throwabookatit]

[ She rolls her eyes. ]

I don't have any desire to learn about why you'd have something like that, especially with a wig.

[sendintheclown]

[He laughs silently. He points at himself, then...ah, what's a good mime for 'job'? How to communicate labour...ah...

He takes a moment, before settling for flexing his arm. That works.]

[throwabookatit]

[ ....... ]

Yeeah, no. I...don't think your arms are made of anything but balloon animals.

[sendintheclown]

[Another silent laugh, why's she only funny when he can't vocally appreciate it?

He shakes his head, and tries again. He points at the outfit, then mimes a punch card, writing on a desk, getting yelled at by his boss. He shifts himself slightly for the last one, edging slightly to the left to play the role of Mr. Tonan, and back to the right to be his cowardly, subservient secretary self.]

[throwabookatit]

[ Why...is she engaging with this. What's... ]

......You work...at a desk job.

[ Kill her. ]

[sendintheclown]

[Bingo! He clicks his fingers, onto the next charade!

How to do this one...department, department...he settles for drawing a box in the air.

The next one requires a bit more effort. He lays his plait over his face, covering his eyes, and holds up two invisible things, one with his arm raised, one with his arm lowered. It’s the most straightforward way to convey “justice” he can think of.]

[throwabookatit]

[ It takes a little thinking but. ]

Are you... What are you... Are you saying you work for some kind of...noble cause? [ She snorts. ] I must be getting this one wrong.

[sendintheclown]

[No, no- he nods encouragingly, she's on the right track!

He tips his hands like scales. That should get the point across.]

[throwabookatit]

A law firm?

[sendintheclown]

[He holds up his thumb and forefinger to show her just how close she is.

Then, he expands his arms outwards. Bigger, bigger!]

[throwabookatit]

Ugghh, for the government, or something! I'm getting tired of your games.

[sendintheclown]

[...

You know what, that's close enough. He'll take it.

A round of applause for you, Rebecca!]

[throwabookatit]

Oi. What'd I say about the clapping?

Have you had your little fun? Can I go, now?

[sendintheclown]

[He ponders it for a moment, tapping a finger by his chin. The rest of the story should probably be left to words, even if it'd be so fun to act out all the maiming.

He could always put on a show at a later date, he supposes.

He's about to give Rebecca a dismissive nod before he remembers. With a gasp, he repeatedly points at the stuff she's carrying.]

[throwabookatit]

[ Completely unaware of his other story intentions, Rebecca glances down at the box of stuff, frowning. ]

What, you want something else? Like... [ Oh. Oh, the mask? She's set the box down, to free up a hand, and then withdraws it. ] This thing does look garish enough to belong to you.

[sendintheclown]

[He nods, grinning at the remark. He tries to maintain an aesthetic.]

[throwabookatit]

Please understand that was far from a compliment.

[ Hm. Hm, hold on... ]

If I give this to you, you've got to promise me...even if you get a hand on any more knives, you won't go after anyone else here like the other day, understand? If you do... I'll know.

[sendintheclown]

[Gogol steeples his hands and takes a moment to deeply consider the offer.

Mask vs. stabbing...it was a tough one. A clown must have a mask, but a clown always longs to stab.

After a long moment of thought, he reaches his conclusion. Without access to words, he holds up a pinky in offering.]

[throwabookatit]

[ Ugh... She has to touch him? Fine. Fine, this isn't a big hardship. Rebecca switches the model to her other hand and meets Gogol's pinky, entwining it with her own. ]

Good.

[sendintheclown]

[For whatever it's worth, Rebecca, he is wearing gloves. He doesn't like touching people either.

With the contract sealed, he shakily gets to his feet, he'd quite like to take that mask and go; Rebecca's far less fun when he can't verbally torment her.]

[throwabookatit]

[ With that established, she holds out the mask. ]

Go on.

[sendintheclown]

[He takes it, and puts it on. There's a great comfort in having it back, something more concrete to mask himself with.

He gives Rebecca a bow, the most sincere gesture of thanks a clown can give.]