[PRP] Just another night (Muerte & Aprife)

[Melancholies]

 

[Melancholies]

If there was one thing that Muerte could count on for stability, it was his work. Science and math had set rules, set regulations; the formulas never changed, the variables always gave the same outputs. In that way, his work was calming—soothing—the opposite of stressful. Usually.

Tonight was a little different, if only because he was pouring himself over an entirely different set of information. Scattered around him were papers and open files, the lot of them scribbled over with some sort of barely legible writing. Muerte could have quite the penmanship if he wanted to, but boy if his normal notes weren’t hasty chicken scratch. Even the greenblood himself had trouble deciphering some of the finer nuances of his papers… but that was fine, he inevitably figured it out.

“Invaaasssiii…” He called for Aprife from where he was sitting, his eyes never leaving his documents, “InvaaassSSSSII! It’s important!”

Which, usually, meant that it wasn’t really that important.

saedusk

love me

 

[saedusk]

Aprife caught the call from halfway across the hive as if he'd been training himself all sweep to react to the most minute of noises. Admittedly, he knew it wasn't going to be important, it never really was, but he'd gotten in the habit of giving in without argument anyway. Doing otherwise was more trouble than it was worth.

Yelling back wasn't exactly something he was capable of, so it wasn't until he stepped foot in Muerte's space that he bothered to say anything at all.

"Yeah?" he asked, arms casually crossed. "I was helping Bumbs water, y'know." He hadn't even had a chance to tie his hair back yet; it hung loose and heavy far down his back instead.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Oh." Muerte actually looked vaguely perturbed, like he felt bad for tearing Aprife away. In truth, he felt bad for Bumbs, not necessarily his custodian. Bumbs really was a neat little creature. "I see. Well that aside—"

He held up a book, "I discovered this text within your collection of novels. It piqued my curiosity." The title, upon closer inspection, was... something or some such about daywalkers, the undead and all that fancy jazz. He wiggled the book for good measure.

"Why hadn't you informed me of this valuable resource before?" The book was set down with a dull sound. Muerte wasn't wearing the eyepatch—he rarely did within the confines of his own hive—and as such both eyes were trained on Aprife as he awaited a response.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

It was a book Aprife had picked up on a whim some time ago, its old fashioned style and well-worn cover not ringing any immediate bells. He took a few steps closer and it all started to come back. Rainbow Drinkers, Fact or Fiction?—it was a subject that only vaguely interested him. Good source material for his short stories, but that was it.

"So how often exactly do you go snooping through my things?" he asked as he took a seat across from Muerte.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Muerte made a face—something like loathing—as if snooping through Aprife's things was something he considered a chore, "Only when necessary." He said dully, but then dismissed the question. It wasn't something he considered important. He did, at the least, seem pleased Aprife took a seat.

"I would assure you—and you must understand that I would assure no one else as I'm doing now—that I only parsed through you reading material. I have no such desire of discovering hidden secrets of yours or some such. It's quite normal for someone to keep a diary if that's what you're concerned about." He waved his hand, but then pinched his brow. "If... you must know the terrible truth, I was bored. I exhausted my own collection."

Not much survived the fire, anyway.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

"You, bored?" This was Muerte—something convinced Aprife the admission probably wasn't a lie. If snooping through his things was a nightly affair, he was certain Muerte would've easily told him so.

"I'm sure whatever diaries you'd find wouldn't be that interesting to you," he said, "Or maybe I'm wrong. I didn't think you were all that interested in rainbowdrinker lore, either."

Aprife leaned forward, elbow on the table, chin in his palm, a what else don't I know look on his face.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Indeed." Muerte fell back now, his hands clasped together, elbows pointedly on the lab table in front of him. "It's true, why would someone like myself be interested in such nonsensical whimsy? To think someone with my intellect would be caught on something that seems so minor and trivial, the things of myths and fantasy—" He sighed, "But there is due reason, I assure you. Allow me to explain."

Muerte took a few sharp breaths, all through his nose. After considering his words for a moment, he spoke again, "Immortality, Invasi. Could you imagine?" Great, now he was standing, parading himself around with his hands clasped behind his back and his dove-faced slippers squeaking against the ground, "The most critical resource to our race as a whole is not something so trite like currency, nor is it even knowledge itself. It's time. An entire lifetime dedicate to the pursuit of science is already a wealth in of itself. Imagine countless lifetimes!"

He took pause.

"So you see, I cannot merely throw every notion of prolonged longevity out the window. They must all be considered as a whole."

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

"Oh." That managed to get Aprife leaning back again, too, turning to watch Muerte pace around the room with purpose. The slippers would've been funny, probably, if he didn't have a similar bumblebee pair of his own stashed away in his room. He was too old now to give two shits about whether the cute things he liked were weird (though admittedly, he never had cared to begin with).

"Damn, you've got me there," he said, sounding genuinely interested. "Y'know, if it were possible to live longer, I might actually be able to see this s**t all the way through." Of course, by this s**t, he meant the rebellion. As it were, they'd more than likely both be long dead by the time any real, permanent change swept Alternia.

It's not that Aprife had never thought about it. Robots were a thing, after all.

"What exactly are you planning on doing, hunting down a rainbow drinker?" Spinning the book around, Aprife thumbed through a few pages. There was a pause as skimmed. "I've seen enough shitty direct release movies to guess you'll either get mauled and sucked dry or charmed by some sort of terrorcult."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Hm..." That seemed to give Muerte pause, "I can't say I have a list of possible 'rainbow drinkers' to go interview. They're not exactly anything anyone has exact proof on..." Say they were real, could it even be transmitted like a disease? It all seemed very silly when he took a step back to consider it. Still, his original goal of transforming himself into a ever-living android was cut short by none other than the troll standing in front of him.

"But I figure there has to be some sort of truth behind every legend, even if the majority of the content on this book is surely superfluous." He looked over the cover again. "Even if it were impossible to hypothetically unlock the secrets for myself, I'm sure it would be riveting to converse with one." Surely someone like that would have an interesting line of experiences behind them.

"I'll get my answers one way or another." He stopped pacing to have a seat himself, seemingly done with his rant.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

"What if-" Aprife began, letting the suspense hang in the air a moment before finally continuing, "-I helped you look for one?" Suffice to say, he believed rainbow drinkers were likely as common as resistance members in reality (if they existed at all). If you were some sort of societal pariah, you got good at hiding, end of story. You just had to find them. "With my connections, I'm sure I could dig up something."

There was one caveat, of course. "But look, you've gotta promise me you're not gonna do anything ******** crazy." That was part of why Aprife thought to involve himself in the first place. He could watch over Muerte, at least on and off, to make sure they weren't reverting back to the whole mutilate, destroy, and rebuild phase.

"Unless you don't want my help, I guess, but hey, it's better than nothing. Right?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Oh please," Muerte made a dismissive huff, "I'm the very soul of rationality." After that he lapsed into a moment of silence, and then made a very silly sounding laugh, "Well, lately."

He'd had his moments.

"Really though, I'm glad you offered. In fact, I think I couldn't have made a better suggestion myself." He laced his fingers together before delicately setting his chin on top of them, "Not that you could probably help much. I'm not making a jab at your abilities, but--well, no, I suppose I shouldn't say that..." Muerte paused to reassess his sentence, "Who knows what could turn up? I can't quite say one way or the other."

Muerte cleared his throat, "In the meantime, I'll focus on more concrete ways to preserving my livelihood." Things that worked, had worked, had been written about and proven, "Well, whenever time allows for it. You know, this whole rebellion thing really does take up a lot of my time." He sighed, almost wistfully.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

Aprife raised a very incredulous eyebrow at that claim, though truth be told, Muerte wasn't wrong. Lately things had gotten considerably better. It wasn't impossible to get the greenblood to go to bed at a decent hour, he didn't forget to eat every night if Aprife didn't remind him, things like that. Didn't mean it was perfect, but it wasn't the worst it had been. He let himself relax again.

And he let himself smile something more genuine and laugh a bit, too, because wow that ridiculous laugh had been cute.

"Alright, alright, I'm taking your word for it, then. Not taking back the offer, though. We'll see how it goes."

Picking up the book, he gave the cover another look before setting back down. He'd leave it with Muerte for now, just in case he wanted to research it more. They lived in the same hive—tracking it down wouldn't be hard if he wanted it, but at the same time, he was pretty sure he wouldn't.

"Hey, you know the Initiative appreciates all your sacrifices," he said dramatically, a hand at his chest. Honestly, Aprife probably appreciated them the most.

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"They'd damn well better." Muerte sighed, equal parts dramatic as Aprife, "I have, dare I say, the most thankless job in this entire waterlogged cesspool." Even though he said it, Muerte knew that wasn't true. The swamp had an entirely new set of dangers that no one really had any experience with, and Muerte had definitely kept himself on top of providing all sorts of remedies. Still, it was fun to jest when Aprife was entertaining him.

"But no matter. A doctor's work is never done, his oath to his profession far more permanent than whatever trials he might face." Sigh. "Regardless, I suppose I have no further need for you, begone." Muerte made a little dismissive gesture with his hands, shoo, shoo.

Eyes looking in some other apparently far more interesting corner of the room, he added (hand gestures still shooing), "Unless you'd like to discuss the finer points of our existence over hot tea, of course." Which basically meant 'I do tolerate your company most out of anyone else here, if you want to make me a refreshing beverage and talk about trivial things then I guess it's okay.'

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

The longer Aprife knew him, the more and more amusing it got to entertain Muerte's tomfoolery. He seemed to do it so easily now, so naturally. Why not enjoy yourself a little? Swamp life could be pretty damn thankless otherwise, that much wasn't a lie.

"And just like that you're throwing me out," he said as he stood, his normally jovial expression twisted into a false frown. "Whose work is thankless here? I'm thinking it's mine." Except he already had a plan in mind to change all that. A true tactician was never so easily bested.

The whole thing went a little something like this: set the kettle on, grab his bee slippers, prepare tea, talk about the finer points of their existence. "I'll be back to settle this, Perist," he added for flavor before striding out of the lab.

Melancholies