Thread: Madman And Machine [Mim&Leon]

Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. It was still a conscious process for her, but it got easier the more she did it. Tilt head. Smile. Funny thing, smiling you had to show all your teeth, but only in the correct circumstances. She didn't know whether this was the correct circumstances, but people on the street seemed to be responding. Left foot. Right foot. The parasol was useless, of course. Her skin could become neither burned nor tanned, but this appeared to be the fashion, as he had put it. What that meant she had yet to learn. A man shifted his body between her and the woman he was with and she pulled her lips back to smile more widely. It seemed as though the wider you grinned, the happier you must be to see someone. She wasn't certain how closely she could approximate the sensation of happiness, but it seemed to be a cornerstone of London society, from what she'd learned. Amber eyes which seemed to glow if you looked too closely--or if it was dark--stared disconcertingly from above the smile which never reached her eyes. Left foot. Right foot. How do you do? Widget turned her smile to a woman with exposed, ripped stockings and worn-down shoes who was leaning against a brick wall as they passed. You wot? she demanded around the cigarette hanging loosely from her lips, straightening a little and throwing her chest out. Widget didn't detect the aggression in her stance, but stopped and inclined her head the way she had been shown. How do you do? she repeated in the same tone and cadence, still grinning. The woman's dress sagged off of her shoulders and she pushed off the wall, slouching toward them. So yer wanna 'ave a go, do yer? the woman demanded. Fink yer better'n me wiv yer fancy clothes an' yer fancy gent, hm? She jerked her chin toward Master. If you'da been done the same wrongs wot I been done, you'd be in the 'zackt same place 's me. Dun fink you wouldn'. Widget tilted her head, unsure how to respond. This was not something he had prepared her for. All I said was 'how do you do,' she finally replied before moving on, leaving the bedraggled whore shrieking impotently at their backs, aware that if she'd torn a society lady's face of like she threatened to do there would have been coppers on her like that. Left foot. Right foot. Widget tilted her head to look at her companion, her gears clicking as she attempted to work out what had just happened. Even so the entire time she grinned in her best attempt at politeness, unblinking. I'm not sure why you've brought me out, Master, she admitted after a few moment's thought. Right foot. Right foo--no. Left foot. Right foot. You don't want me to be discovered for what I am, and yet you insist on teaching me these 'manners' and taking me out for walks. I'm afraid I don't see the point. If you would rather me not be seen, I would just as much rather not go out. It wasn't that she wasn't enjoying herself. She didn't have the capacity to enjoy walks, not yet anyway, but inasmuch as she could she didn't entirely mind them. But if Master didn't want her coming outside, she wasn't sure why he brought her out anyway. We've been sent beautiful weather, haven't we, Master? Widget said suddenly, turning her uncanny smile and unblinking stare onto him from beneath her parasol. Was that good 'small talk,' Master?