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Post by Grantaire on Feb 25, 2009 16:57:41 GMT -5
"I'm not a clock, and I certainly do have nerve endings. But you're not getting near me with those snips--the scalpel will be fine, I can handle that sort of pain. But listen, this is the problem--he refitted me to run on water, I have to drink it constantly to keep my energy up. It's not so terrible, I suppose, but there isn't always water to be had, and besides that, I can't eat food anymore, or drink alcohol and I rather miss those things. Can you fix it?"
Not that it was really "broken" he supposed...
"Oh, and my legs get rather stiff sometimes, I don't even know if he finished up whatever he was putting in down there."
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Post by Herr Drosselmeyer on Feb 25, 2009 17:00:54 GMT -5
"A psychiatrist, perhaps? Have you ever seen its insides, yourself?"
*Nevertheless, he set down the shears for the time being and continued to examine Grantaire, peering at its face from several angles before he casually unbuttoned its trousers and tugged them off over his hips.*
"...how old is it, do you know?" *he asked, still talking to Brishen.*
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Post by Brishen on Feb 25, 2009 17:08:58 GMT -5
*Brishen started forward, his eyes widened. He shook his head dumbly.*
"Sir! No, I just met..." *He sighed, trying again.*
"I don't know his history but I'm sure he'd tell you..."
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Post by Herr Drosselmeyer on Feb 25, 2009 17:14:56 GMT -5
"There is certainly the appearance of organic elements, which is strange, to say the least. I should very much like to take it apart and see how it was done. Though, I suppose, if it might feel pain, it would be simplest to have a doctor put it to sleep, first. Nothing distracts from one's work so much as non-stop screaming."
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Post by Grantaire on Feb 25, 2009 17:16:54 GMT -5
This time, Grantaire shoved the man backward with an angry shout and then got up and tugged his trousers back on and grabbed his shirt.
"Alright, we're done here. Brish, would it be too much to ask you to knock this asshole's teeth in?"
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Post by Brishen on Feb 25, 2009 17:21:58 GMT -5
"Brishen was torn, unsure of what to do and how to help. He'd been hopeful about the man, but this...it wasn't working so well.*
"Grantaire, please." *Even as he tried to sooth his companion, he frowned at the clockmaker.*
"Perhaps we should go."
Get away from this weirdness.
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Post by Herr Drosselmeyer on Feb 25, 2009 17:47:37 GMT -5
"Perhaps you should. Aside from a staggering psychological defect, I can see little wrong with your friend," *said Drosselmeyer to Brishen.* "If you have any real clockworks for me to take a look at sometime, I would be happy to see them."
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Post by Grantaire on Feb 25, 2009 17:50:17 GMT -5
Grantaire gave an uneasy sort of chuckle and then pulled back and punched the man square in the face. He was small, true, but he was wiry and had come out okay in more than one scrape. He gave his hand a shake at the sting the blow caused him and turned to go, grabbing Brishen by the arm to pull him along and out.
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Post by Brishen on Feb 25, 2009 17:51:40 GMT -5
*Brishen gasped in the suddenness, but was eager enough to get gone.*
"Sorry." *He called back, just as they made it out the door. That hadn't gone quite to plan.*
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Post by Herr Drosselmeyer on Feb 25, 2009 18:06:48 GMT -5
*Drosselmeyer took the blow on his jaw, blind, white pain shooting through his bones, the vision in his single green eye blurring.
Without much thought, he reached to a small brass box on his belt, flicking a minute switch out of several.
Standing perfectly still behind his worktable, his unblinking gaze followed the two men as they made their way down the street outside of his shop.
Then, a green eye fell upon the shears.*
"I think I'll keep you nearby."
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