The Bear and Barnacle

The captain of a great ship poling along the mighty, murky sea of the Venetian canals has found himself beached on Iago's doorstep. He is not quite sure yet how this cruel marooning occurred, but thinks perhaps the answers are to be found in the depths of his bottle of wine. Iago prudently relieves him of his command, and guides the small boat awkwardly into the thinned but still moving archipelago of lamplit revelers.

Emilia has cast off her cloak and mask and gone to bed, flushed with excitement and tired out from a long day of last-ditch revelry before Lenten sobriety sets in, so Iago now makes his determined way across a better swath of the city and brings in the the little craft near the Sagittarius inn where Othello lodges. There he pulls his simple black mask back into place and lies in wait until he sees his general.

( Minor adult content here. )

Somehow, possibly with Xello’s intervention, Ivonka has returned to tolerating Joker’s presence in the pub. He’s told her he can’t promise never to try anything with her again, and she told him that she can’t promise he won’t end up on the menu if he does. That had prompted a smile and laughter, and there had been a tense truce ever since.

Which is why he now finds himself sitting at the bar in the pub, scarfing down a BLT with extra bacon, and talking to her with his mouth full. “You know, Halloween is coming up. I love Halloween, all the costumes and disguises. Everyone playing a part. But it’s a lie, you know…the real disguises, that’s what everyone sees every day. The faces ordinary people put on to go out and live their ordinary lives, those are the real masks.” He leans forward on the counter. “Me, I’m a master of disguise. Have a whole trunk full. Police uniform, nurse uniform, orange jumpsuit, my regular clothes…which one is the real me? Is this? Is the jumpsuit? Is my makeup the disguise or the real me?” He takes another bite, laughing. “What about anyone in here, right now? They’re all wearing disguises, all hiding what’s really underneath…”

She was never sure which of her was real.
Most of the time, she liked to think Governess!Susan was the real one. The one who minded children, and cleaned up spills, and cooked meals, and read embellished bed time stories. The Susan who was loved. Twyla and Gawaine loved her, and she had the collection of artwork to prove it. Their sensible, never-afraid governess, who kept them safe from the monsters. She wanted that life to be the real one.
But more often, the thing that feels the truest is not the one that feels the best, and her normal life is just a distraction from her lineage.
When she took up the Scythe, as she was fond of calling what she did, when Grandfather took a holiday, she felt right. She didn't want too. She wanted to be normal. But she wasn't meant to be normal.
The dark dresses, the cloaks, the Voice. All these things come more naturally to her than even blinking. She has power, if she would only accept it.
She lays in bed at night, listening to Ghost!Teatime mutter to himself in the attic, and wonders which one he sees.
Which Susan does anyone see.
Which is the real disguise? The Governess? Or Death?

‘It was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His expression, his manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every fresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a fine actor when he became a specialist in crime.’ Watson on Holmes A Scandal in Bohemia

Wearing a rumpled brown suit, blue shirt and a blue and orange striped tie, Holmes inspected himself in the mirror. His hair was parted in the middle and slicked down and he’d put on a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles (no prescription). He also hadn’t shaved that day and he looked appropriately seedy but not objectionable. If anyone noticed him, they’d remember the hair and the glasses. And the tie, which looked as if it had come from a novelty shop because it had. Such superficial accents were crucial to a disguise in that they could be easily removed and ones normal appearance restored with ease. Mindful of the precautions already in place, Holmes was merely going to the council meeting to observe. Slumping to conceal his height and armed with his laptop and one of those excessively large (and excessively overpriced!) coffees, he stepped out, confident that no one who didn’t know him wouldn’t recognise him.

This month's topic is disguises! Have you ever had to use one? Are you using one now? What sort of disguises do you like? Have you ever seen a really silly one? What do you think would be the best disguise?

And and and I have a big surprise for everyone! I'm still working on it but it will be done soon and will be a surprise even to Iago! Only Val knows what I'm doing. *giggles* I'm going to put it in the pub in TWO weeks. *nods eagerly* So everyone will want to see. Except for Ivonka. *shifty eyes*


You guessed it: the tag is disguises.

The bouncy rambling translates to the six year old has taken over this month's event. So um... be afraid? Maybe?