The room was utterly unlike anything Billy would design for himself. Even the walls were blank. The dressing room at the theater was tiny but its walls were lined with posters and newspaper articles, or little notes that Billy had tacked up to remember. It was a lovely, lively clutter where this place of supposed beauty felt quite sterile. They'd set Billy up in a prison cell and placed the door's lock inside his own mind.
"The amphitheater. Courtyard, under the sky." The false Doll obediently tucked Billy in, pulling the covers up to his neck. Rather than climb in with him it sank down to sit on a padded mat next to the mattress. Apparently its masters had some sense of propriety when it came to deluded interactions with mute doppelgangers.
"Good..." Billy trailed off, sitting up to look down in irritation at the duplicate. From the way he cut himself off during his rambling and then jumped in again, the false Doll had one last argument to make. "I told you, he misinterpreted. He thought he was being polite. Look, he doesn't understand how you are, which I honestly think is perfectly reasonable. Even I don't understand you half the time." He burrowed into the blankets sulkily.
"It'll be me in control, anyway," he mumbled, eyes slipping closed. "Won't matter. I wouldn't let him take your scars."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2013-05-24 12:12 pm (UTC)"The amphitheater. Courtyard, under the sky." The false Doll obediently tucked Billy in, pulling the covers up to his neck. Rather than climb in with him it sank down to sit on a padded mat next to the mattress. Apparently its masters had some sense of propriety when it came to deluded interactions with mute doppelgangers.
"Good..." Billy trailed off, sitting up to look down in irritation at the duplicate. From the way he cut himself off during his rambling and then jumped in again, the false Doll had one last argument to make. "I told you, he misinterpreted. He thought he was being polite. Look, he doesn't understand how you are, which I honestly think is perfectly reasonable. Even I don't understand you half the time." He burrowed into the blankets sulkily.
"It'll be me in control, anyway," he mumbled, eyes slipping closed. "Won't matter. I wouldn't let him take your scars."