Make em' laugh, make em' cry
"Missus H, you really got ta let loose sometimes. Know what I mean, Jelly Bean?" the creaks and chattering of his teeth scratching together as Skelly talks has somehow always been able to chill the spine of Harle. He has no lungs, or a tongue for that matter, and how has he been able to have a voice? Harle had always imagined that the wind did the talking for him, but whether it fueled his personality is an issue for another debate.
Leaning softly on the rails of the S.S Invincible, she regards him with a soft contempt as his lanky form tries desperately to deify the law of gravity.
He's been successful so far.
"Jelly bean?" she raises a painted eyebrow at him while she contemplates the diamond shaped mark over his right… eyeball socket. Eyeball socket, which by the way, was missing an eyeball. How does he even see?
"Jelly bean," He affirms, "I've been noticing you down in the dumps lately, so I've come ta liven your day, Missus H!"
Skelly then proceeds to fan out his entire body in a flamboyant posture. Three mufti-colored balls then materialize out of thin air over Skelly's head. Skelly catches two of them expertly in his gloves, while the third lands atop his feathered hat. He then begins juggling all three of them.
Up down, right and left, the balls travel from glove to air to glove again. And through that all, Harle's face takes one of extreme apathy.
"Iz thiz suppozed to amuze me?" to Skelly, he is surprised to find himself attracted to the way she speaks. Harle's accent completely enthralls him.
"Tough crowd, eh? How about some jokes?" Harle rolls her eyes as she starts to ignore him.
"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"
"That iz a riddle."
"Oh yeah, huuuuuh. Well. Why is six, afraid of seven?" Harle rolls her eyes again, and turns her attention away from the dead clown and onto the everblue sea. Where were her thoughts before this distraction? Oh yes. She leans deeper over the rail, her slippered feet hanging just an inch away from the floor of the boat. She stares down as the waves crash against the bottom part of the boat.
Harle had wanted to throw herself down and drown herself in it.
"You got five seconds left ta answer the riddle, Missus H, come'on, it's a real holler," Skelly continues to juggle as his eyeless sockets watch her.
Distraction. Away from what she really wants. Harle's eyes almost feel sore from rolling them around too much.
"It'z a joke, you nin-come-poop, not a riddle." She hears him go 'ahh, that's right,' under his breath as she begins to contemplate his joke. Such a simple joke really, one that she's heard…
Never, actually, until now. But she remembers hearing it in another life, so she knows the answer just the same. She decides to humor him.
"cauze Zeven, eight, nine," she looks away from the sea, and locks eyes with Skelly's eyeless sockets.
The reaction is unpredictable. Skelly begins to laugh as he loses a round with gravity. His bones disassemble right before Harle's eyes, the wind filling the deck of the boat with his laughter.
Harle watches in amazement as even just a skull surrounded by his other bones, Skelly still has the ability to laugh.
She is even more fascinated when two of the balls he was juggling land perfectly in each of his dismembered gloves; with the last one landing perfectly atop his feathered head. His teeth are still chattering as they scratch against each other in his laughter.
"Cuase, cause," Harle watches as tears roll down his face, despite not having any noticeable tear ducts, "seven ate nine, get it Missus H?"
Harle has a small smile on her painted face, which is immediately noticed by Skelly. He stops laughing; mouth suspended in a frozen chuckle as he watches her smile.
"I made you smile, Missus H!" He gushes as he starts to reassemble himself magically piece by piece, "I was always a real riot with my jokes."
Harle still has a smile on her lips, "You know, Monsieur Skelly, you must take a bow or two after zuch a ztellar performance."
"Ah that's right," Skelly whispers more to himself.
Harle gives a round of applause as Skelly gives a shaky bow to his audience of one.
concrit greatly appreciated