Guys and Ragdolls (for raggedy_doll)

[hypnotic_patter]

Bass, Alto, and Soprano had known about Billy's new consort shortly after Billy did. Of course he'd left out some of the details of how it had happened (the drunken half-remembered sex, for instance) but the general gist was that he had a Romantic Partner and everyone should recognize how awesome he was for having one.

Alto found Music Meister's enthusiasm adorable, like an eager teenager trying to work references to having a <3~boyfriend~<3 into every single conversation. Her boss had always seemed like a fairly sweet guy and she had extended fantasies of candlelight interludes, riverside serenades, and expensive gifts stolen from the most elite of galleries.

Soprano, who'd had a rotating string of bad boy affairs that almost inevitably ended in disaster, was a little more cynical about the subject. Music Meister had a tendency to bring drama into everything, no pun intended, and the person he waxed eloquent about this week might be the unholy spawn of the Devil as soon as they found something to argue about.

Bass had little opinion on Ragdoll, but he rarely had opinions on things that didn't involve money, imminent danger, or edible products. A happy boss meant less fuss and tantrums so he supposed he was for it.

And their happy boss had been quite daring tonight. Between hectic missions, Arkham visits, and troublesome New England geography Billy and Peter hadn't seen each other in person since the cultist incident. Worryingly explicit (or even more worryingly vague) text messages were no match for a proper romantic get-together. With Ragdoll arriving in town that evening Billy needed to get boyfriend funds together quickly, so he'd neglected the usual ploy of stealing a large shiny object in favor of going after actual cash--in this case, a craps game run by one of the more affluent Gotham gangs. Such games dealt in untraceable cash and goods, and tended to be more on guard against cops than a rousing rendition of "Luck Be a Lady". They'd be upset later, Billy imagined, but what could they possibly do to him? They were mere mobsters and he an archcriminal. At least he'd be spending the money on healthier things than drugs and prostitutes.

The Tempest wasn't originally designed to hold company for more than the length of a show, but Billy had made appropriate accommodations. A few seats had been removed from the balcony to make room for an antique table, as well as an easy chair from which to watch films on the theater's retractable projector screen. Bass, in pinstripes-sans-jacket, was setting the table with fancy silverware and candlesticks. They'd been drafted into wait staff duty for the 'afterparty', as well as making the preparations while the boss was out buying appropriate romance supplies.

Alto was lounging in her flapper girl costume, playing with the long string of beads. A glittering headband with a peacock feather stood out in her blonde hair. Soprano, with her boy cut and less flamboyant style, wore a Coco-Chanel styled women's suit whose kitten heels she'd swapped for sturdy leather boots. Her bell-shaped hat was hanging off the armrest of one of the chairs.

"So what's he like?"

"Freaky."

"I mean, as a person."

"Freaky. He's got these scars all over him and the way he moves is just...freaky. It's like watching a spider with half the legs."

"That doesn't mean he's a bad guy." Alto re-crossed her legs, stockinged feet propped up on the balcony railing. "Meister's plenty weird too. And there's Mr. Nygma, he treats his girls real well and he's all kinds of crazy."

"Look, I only met the guy once and we were both kinda busy. I got no idea what he does in his personal time."

"Besides the boss, hee hee."

"You are such a goddamn twelve-year-old."

"Come on, it's cute that Meister's got a guy. He even went and rescued the boss from those jerks who kidnapped him and that's totally adorable. I bet he's got that same romantic spark Meister does."

"You know Ragdoll's on a mercenary assassin team, right? He's probably wanted for murder in ten states."

"...still doesn't make it not cute."

Comments

[raggedy_doll]

"That does sound like him, yes."

Ragdoll straightened up -- well, somewhat; as much as he ever did -- and brushed himself off. He was actually wearing a rather nice suit (despite the oddly black-and-yellow checkered ascot, which was at least made of nice material), which was now a bit dusty but surprisingly not all that creased, even after his trip through the air ducts.

"You're Alto, yes? I believe we spoke, once. And of course I've met Soprano, and this must be Bass."

[hypnotic_patter]

"Hey." Bass gave him a wave and a short nod. None were surprised that he used their henchnames, they were fairly sure Billy didn't even remember their real names half the time.

Alto was still obviously staring at him. Not disapproving or disgusted, just intrigued. "I'm glad you're doing better from getting blown up. The boss was really worried." The few photos she'd seen of him in news articles made it hard to tell his real proportions, and at least in this one his limbs were in the places they should be.

"Spent the whole week in his room listening to the RENT soundtrack," Soprano added. They could usually judge the Meister's mood by his current playlist and the depressing parts of RENT were reserved for only the darkest of days.

"It didn't leave a scar or anything, did it?" And now Alto was trying to steer the conversation back towards appearance. Scarred all over?

[raggedy_doll]

Staring hardly registered with him; it was, after all, what practically everyone did. Not staring was a more unique reaction, really.

He smiled, behind the mask, sound carrying through to his voice: "Really? Did he? He must have been quite distraught!" Not that he's surprised that Meister was, of course. That much had been obvious. But... really, his theatrical qualities were, somehow, endearing. RENT must have meant he was so very upset.

"And, yes, it left scars. But that's nothing new; why, I'm not sure I could say which are fresh and which are old!" They're all blended together in his head, one connected scar pattern rather than individual scars, like-- oh, a map, or something similarly poetic. Like a chaotic picture that doesn't actually make any recognizable shape, in the end. "Though I feel I must correct you. I wasn't blown up, luckily, having made it out of the building by that point. Mostly." Mostly out of the building, and then he'd been shot out into the river. Like a very high-pressure water slide!

[hypnotic_patter]

Alto nodded, as if this was relevant to anything. She was more intent on figuring out the intricacies of the Meister's current true love than how Ragdoll'd made it out of the building alive. That was probably dull and complex and involved guns, which were never that thrilling to talk about.

"I bet that sort of thing happens to you all the time, anyway. The boss says you're a mercenary type." She leaned forward a bit, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair. Her eager expression invited elaboration.

[raggedy_doll]

Well, since they seemed to be settling into conversation, Ragdoll slipped into a seat himself, pushing his mask up to rest on his head -- and drawing his legs up to cross them, then leaning forward himself to cross his arms on them, balancing there.

"Oh, yes, I've had experiences like that, and much worse than that besides! We seem to make a terrible number of enemies in our line of work. But the pay is good, when we do get paid, and the scenery is oh so interestingly squalid, usually..."

[hypnotic_patter]

Alto's eyes went a little wider as Ragdoll contorts. Not the usual confusion or disgust, more the reworking of certain mental images and the sudden revelation of previously unconsidered potential. Meister had said he was flexible but damn. No wonder Meister was willing to wait.

"That sounds pretty nifty. The boss doesn't say a lot about what you do with your job, mostly he's just talking about you and how wonderful you are."

"He did say you were on a team with Bane," Soprano threw in, just to indicate she was still in the conversation so it shouldn't turn into a total teenage-girl-fest. "That's hardcore stuff. He's the guy who snapped Batman's spine, you know."

"Yeah? Well, then how come he's still walking around?" Alto rubbed her cheek, remembering one instance when she'd been caught up in the ecstasy of song and come out of her trance with two black eyes.

"I don't know, he got better."

"We ain't talking about Bane, anyway," said Alto, pouting slightly. Her voice slipped back into the faux-cutesy tone, playing up her assigned archetype. "We're talking about Mr. Doll and Mr. Meister."

[raggedy_doll]

That certainly wasn't a disgusted look, and, under other circumstances, that would have been enough encouragement to get Ragdoll suggesting... things. That would be incredibly uncouth, though.

Instead, he allowed the conversation to meander around a bit, though he was a little surprised when Alto brought the topic back "on point." "We are? Are we?" He glanced at the other two, then back at her. "Hmm, well..." If they were...

"Does he often say how wonderful I am?" He can't decide if that thought is intriguing, entertaining, or somewhat touching. Perhaps a muddled mix of the three.

[hypnotic_patter]

Bass, perhaps because he had legitimate business downstairs and perhaps because this conversation was getting a little weird for him, headed for the stairs. Table was done but he still had to make sure the backstage was tidied and the bed was all made up.

"All the time!"

"Not all of the time."

"But a lot of the time," Alto insisted. "He talks about how pretty you are when you dance, on account of how flexible you are. And he's always showing off news articles when you do something spectacular. And, um. He thinks you have nice eyes!"

She was paraphrasing, for the last one. The actual quote had been more along the lines of 'I prefer it when he leaves the mask on during combat, he takes it off and suddenly it's Edward Scissorhands Puppydog Eyes. Just doesn't fit the theme.'

[raggedy_doll]

Well, a lot of that was mostly new. He listened to them, propping his chin up in his hands after a moment, expression intrigued. Though when Alto was done, what he ended up saying was:

"You know, I can't really tell who I'm being complimented by. But I can't say I mind someone choosing to be the messenger!" Nice eyes, really? That would explain why Billy was so quick to remove his mask, after all that mess -- though he had also been semi-focused on Ragdoll's scars, which, while he thought they were beautiful, weren't something people would call "nice."

"He does tend to gush about things."

[hypnotic_patter]

"Yeah! Especially on things that he's really excited about, and he's really excited about you. Because he likes you so much." Just to make sure that was emphasized. Alto twisted the beads around her fingers, curling them up like brass knuckles in her hands. "We even went out and stole a whole mess of money because he was worried he couldn't give you a proper good time while you were in town."

She gave him a look that implied he should firmly agree Billy didn't need money to give him a good time, but merely the sweetness of his company.

[raggedy_doll]

Oh, this was cute. Ragdoll supposed that Alto was playing the little sister role to Billy, at least as some little sisters supposedly acted according to popular culture... Or something like that, anyway.

Hearing that they'd finished a job earlier caught his interest, though, and he utterly ignored her prompting look. "An impromptu performance?" he said cheerfully. "He must have had fun. And who did you steal from this time?"

These stories were always entertaining; how could you not enjoy the whimsy of cops and mobsters alike forming a kick-line while William made off with cash and valuables?

[hypnotic_patter]

"The mob. Lots of money, they're probably gonna try and kill us over it later." Soprano twisted in her seat to give her coworker a scowl. "Alto, nobody's buying your act."

"They aren't? And aren't buying what?"

"She wants to know about you and the boss. Y'know." Soprano held up one hand with the first two fingers twined around each other. "Because she's twelve like that."

[raggedy_doll]

"He does remember the mob gets guns involved? He was quite cross about that last time." Really, if William was so against having guns pointed at him, he needed to stop stealing from mobsters! He couldn't say he didn't know better at this point.

And... Oh, so that's what was going on. "Really? Usually people want me to stop talking about things like that. Usually before I even say anything."

[hypnotic_patter]

The boss seemed to think that consequences were things that happened to other people. It was a running theme in his life and the trio had long ago resigned themselves to it. At least the last time they'd run through it the worst casualty was some bruising on Alto and they'd given back quite more than had been dealt to them.

Alto sat forward in her seat, grinning in excitement. "Aw, no, I'd love to hear about it!" So unfair, that closed-minded people would get upset over a perfectly normal loving relationship.

[raggedy_doll]

When not lamenting the unfair consequences of performance crime, the Music Meister did tend to act as if consequences were for everyone other than him. It still threw Ragdoll off sometimes, but he was coming to expect it.

"Are we having girl talk now?" He seemed absolutely genuine in his intrigue, blinking at her. "Oh, goodie. Well, as you seem to keep stressing, yes, he is quite sweet. In a theatrical way, of course," he waved a hand, "but still."