[Teddy shoots him a very slightly exasperated look -- look, Simon and Garfunkel are one of her mom's favorites, and you try thinking of something off-hand that can be sung without accompaniment while trying to placate a giant goat -- but it doesn't have any real oomph to it.]
[Especially not as they feel Eddie start to relax next to them. And -- maybe it's the song, maybe it's the way Eddie's breathing slows a little, or the fact that he hasn't turned into a bat, maybe it's just feeling like they've done something to help -- the dread starts to drain from Teddy, too, replaced by a frightened but we'll-get-through-this sort of determination; a gratitude that they teamed up to do this.]
I'll take your part...
[As the Lyhos pokes its (head? it's kind of a lot of moss) into the shrubs, Teddy nods hastily at Eddie. In case it's just the singing and nothing magic at all, he hisses:]
Back me up? Hum, even.
[Teddy squeezes Eddie's hand - as much for her own benefit as his, to be completely honest - and gets to her feet, taking a deep breath. Focusing on them all as more alike than unlike, three separate creatures that have been brought here unwitting and against odds. Reminding herself of her own ability to persuade, to stand on a stage -- god it's been a long time -- or in front of people and hold their attention. She can feel her hands trembling, but there's something oddly familiar about that reaction, and Teddy starts.]
I don't know if you can understand me. We were looking for you. We don't want to bother you.
[They think through the concepts as they talk, trying to project the feelings and images. Teddy raises their hands to their face to illustrate:]
There's a mask. Our people need it back. It helps us to keep everyone safe.
...But you can have anything we've brought if you can give us the mask. Or work out something. I could come back and sing again.
[Okay, that's a big promise, but Teddy feels at the moment like it's a fair deal, if it wants something he can give so easily. If it even understands.
Divested of quite so much of that gut-deep fear, Teddy thinks distantly that the giant goat-creature's height and mop of vegetation make it seem a little like a big puppet: maybe a little Pan's Labyrinth -- or at least Dark Crystal -- along with The Muppets, but still kind of Henson-y.
Teddy doesn't dare look at Eddie: she doesn't want to draw more attention to him when he has more than enough reason to be terrified of a giant goat and is braving it already. She can feel his presence next to her: winds it in like a countermelody in the concepts she's projecting, something that makes them both into something more solid.]
no subject
[Especially not as they feel Eddie start to relax next to them. And -- maybe it's the song, maybe it's the way Eddie's breathing slows a little, or the fact that he hasn't turned into a bat, maybe it's just feeling like they've done something to help -- the dread starts to drain from Teddy, too, replaced by a frightened but we'll-get-through-this sort of determination; a gratitude that they teamed up to do this.]
I'll take your part...
[As the Lyhos pokes its (head? it's kind of a lot of moss) into the shrubs, Teddy nods hastily at Eddie. In case it's just the singing and nothing magic at all, he hisses:]
Back me up? Hum, even.
[Teddy squeezes Eddie's hand - as much for her own benefit as his, to be completely honest - and gets to her feet, taking a deep breath. Focusing on them all as more alike than unlike, three separate creatures that have been brought here unwitting and against odds. Reminding herself of her own ability to persuade, to stand on a stage -- god it's been a long time -- or in front of people and hold their attention. She can feel her hands trembling, but there's something oddly familiar about that reaction, and Teddy starts.]
I don't know if you can understand me. We were looking for you. We don't want to bother you.
[They think through the concepts as they talk, trying to project the feelings and images. Teddy raises their hands to their face to illustrate:]
There's a mask. Our people need it back. It helps us to keep everyone safe.
...But you can have anything we've brought if you can give us the mask. Or work out something. I could come back and sing again.
[Okay, that's a big promise, but Teddy feels at the moment like it's a fair deal, if it wants something he can give so easily. If it even understands.
Divested of quite so much of that gut-deep fear, Teddy thinks distantly that the giant goat-creature's height and mop of vegetation make it seem a little like a big puppet: maybe a little Pan's Labyrinth -- or at least Dark Crystal -- along with The Muppets, but still kind of Henson-y.
Teddy doesn't dare look at Eddie: she doesn't want to draw more attention to him when he has more than enough reason to be terrified of a giant goat and is braving it already. She can feel his presence next to her: winds it in like a countermelody in the concepts she's projecting, something that makes them both into something more solid.]