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 Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 8:40 pm
Come to think of it, she hadn't seen Christof in a while, had she? The little Undead had seen him walk off the stage in all sorts of facial colours, but after that? She didn't see him at all. Granted, she was busy trying to not get up on stage and play the guitar. Not only that, but before the dance he'd had a bag of parts with him during the attack in the woods! Plus they played the same instrument in Music Class...
Hum.
Perhaps she should go see him again? To catch up both scareling to scareling and on the project?
It was a great idea! She was proud of herself for having such a brilliant thought!
Humming, she dusted herself off (sadly back to wearing her usual yellow Sari), eyed DC while he snoozed under his new heating lamp in the far corner of her room, and made her brisk escape.
Christof's door was knocked on once, his name called once, and then a second knock...third, fourth, fifth...no answer! Was he not home? She gazed at the door knob; Maybe...maybe she should just go in? If she did and he wasn't there, maybe she could leave a note - wait, did she even bring paper? Oh well, she was sure he had some extras.
Biting down on what was left of her lip, she twisted the door handle and peeked inside before quietly slipping in.
"...Christof?"
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 9:00 pm
The daylight flowed in from his windows over what looked like several projects dropped and ignored. Scruff was whining and immediately leaped around her backwards feet excitedly, as though he had been left alone for far too long. On the bed, curled up under his thing blanket in a tight, miserable ball was the hunchback. If he noticed her entering, he made no acknowledgment, his eyes locked on the stone wall inches from his face. ((for those who missed it and are reading along, this is what happened.))
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 9:23 pm
"Eep!" Amrita gasped when the fat scareon assaulted her in it's quest for attention, taking a moment to pat the excited thing's head. Well, that was the plan, if said thing didn't trip her instead. The Undead ghoul went down with a started cry and a flail, hitting the ground on her hands and knees with a thud.
"Oooow..." She lamented, getting back to her feet to continue her quest to the hunchback shaped lump on the bed.
"Psssst...Christof, are you sleeping?" Apparently, she didn't realize how loud she'd been. "I came to see you!" Which...should have been obvious, really.
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 9:28 pm
She got a quiet, distracted hum in response, and slowly he unfolded from the bed, twisting around to put his feet on the floor as though trying to will himself to attention, but it was a losing battle. He was still in his shirt from the dance, stained with brown dried blood and smears of black ash. His eyes seemed to focus on a spot somewhere a few feet behind her, but in the general vicinity of her face.
Oh. It was Miss Amrita. She'd like her Parts, he was sure. Numbly, he lurched to his feet, dropping the blanket to make his way quietly to the work bench, still cluttered with the heads of young women, some only half skinned.
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 9:42 pm
Huh, something was wrong with Christof. Was he broken? Did his brain break like hers did sometimes? His lifeless gaze was met with a wide-eyed blank one, mostly because she was too busy trying to process the visual information to create an expression.
"Where are you going?" She squeaked out when she realized he was moving, and turned to duckling after him...were those a bunch of heads on the table? A lot of them were darker skinned like this body. So...were those for her?
"Oh! I wanted to talk to you about that! Not right away though." She waved a backwards hand in dismissal, wandering beside him instead to look up at him, scrutinizing his face as best as she could. Visual ques weren't always her forte.
"I think I had a lot to talk to you about but I can't remember...uhh..." She stared at him some more after her suddenly ceaseless chatter, and then placed a backwards hand on his arm.
"Are you okay...? You don't look the same." Which, in Amrita-speak, meant not well.
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 9:48 pm
He nodded almost too quick to respond before slowly pulling out of her arm to the notebook on his desk, obediently writing in tight, but legible handwriting:
Was broken. Now fixed. Which are your preference?
After handing it to her, he pulled a few faces he had salvaged out to the clear spot on the bench for her assessment diligently.
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 9:59 pm
What he wrote made no sense!
"...You don't...look fixed." She stressed, giving him a surprising suspicious stare despite only having half of a face. Her attention was caught momentarily by the faces he was displaying for her, and as relevant to her interests as they were...she couldn't focus on them. Her attention went right back to Christof.
"You look broken! Did you...get sick? I saw your face was, uh, all colourful at the dance." Concern for her friend was starting to add on quickly, very quickly, and she stared up at him, now almost pouting out of concern.
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 10:01 pm
He shook his head, trying to point out the nice bone structure on the nearest head with a prodding finger, eyes on anything but her now.
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 10:11 pm
Christof remained silent.
Amrita was going to have none of that.
The little Vetala frowned, deciding to make a nuisance of herself by not letting the subject drop for as long as she could remember, and for as long as he refused to answer her.
"I bet you are sick." She would have puffed out her cheeks if she could; sadly air can't get trapped when there were plenty of skull-holes to escape from. "You're acting weird, and your clothes are dirtier than normal, and you're not answering me, and you're acting weird." Blissfully unaware of her repeating herself, she let out a thoughtful hum and looked towards the door.
"Maybe...maybe we should go get Malodore? Malodore is supersmart and doctor-y." She continued on in a thoughtful chitter, still mildly frowning despite it all.
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 10:17 pm
Get Malodore? Ah, she wanted him to deliver the parts for her. Dimly, he nodded, moving sluggishly to arrange the workbench more presentably. If Malodore was coming to inspect his work, then it had better be spotless for the Doctor.
Still desperate for attention, Scruff finally hopped up onto his chair, snatching one of the waiting hands from the table top to run away stubbornly. The hunchback whirled around, eyes suddenly alight as he bolted after, giving the scareon a sudden kick. The poor pet yelped, dropping the hand immediately before scooting to hide under his desk, head held low.
Glowering and breathing quickly, he scooped the limb up frantically, immediately examining it obsessively for damage.
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 10:27 pm
"...What are you doing now?!" Amrita whined when he instead started to tidy the bench. The bench wasn't clothes, Christof! The bad brain was her thing, not yours! "I said we were goi---" She paused, instead staring blankly at the way the hunchback lit up and seemed more himself as Scruff stole something of his.
...Lightbulb.
Looking around, she stared at this, that and the other thing, trying to pull memories from her cloudy mind. She'd practically gotten in trouble a couple times for finding or looking at certain things, right?! Oh jack, what were they, again?
She spotted the picture of the hands, and a dim memory came back. The pictures!. While he was busy inspecting the once-stolen hand, the Vetala scrambled to the wall where the pictures resided (odd, she recognized a couple of them, maybe!), grabbing one at random and taking it down.
"What's this?" She said like a loud, curious child who knows they're probably going to get in trouble, or as loudly as she dared.
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Posted: Wed Feb 23, 2011 7:18 am
The hand carefully put back on the table, he glanced over his hunch to see her manhandling- or rather ghoulhandling his collage...
Usually he would have made loud strangled noises and pushed her away from it, or tried to hide it, but slowly he looked it over, mind calculating. He wasn't quite sure what his Master had wanted. But it probably did not involve stalking pretty ghouls. Slowly, as though in a trance still, he moved to calmly, systematically, remove each picture and drop it into the waste can beside his desk before shifting back to the work bench.
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Posted: Wed Feb 23, 2011 9:34 pm
His reaction highly disappointed her.
She was confused, and lost, and starting to get upset; this wasn't Christof! This wasn't Christof at all! Did she do something wrong? The Undead ghoul watched him throw out the rest of the images, and what was left of her lip wibbled unhappily, looking down at the one she still held, keeping it from him so he couldn't throw that one out.
"Did...Did I...um, do something wrong...?" She squeaked out, clinging to the photo of somewhat familiar hands. She looked about ready to cry...but at the same time, about ready to throw something at him. Just to get some reaction.
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Posted: Wed Feb 23, 2011 10:53 pm
He shook his head, her concerned question making him look even more miserable. Why was she being complicated? She was here for her parts and he delivered them. His mouth was no longer on fire, but it was replaced by a stomach that was aching since being reminded what it was for. In the back of his mind, he wished he had tried more of the sweet things on the buffet table at the dance while he had had the chance... but judging by the state of things, it was probably better he hadn't. His fresh stitches across his mouth were still red around the seams.
It wasn't very Igorly to want to sit and eat cookies and cake.
Despite the shirt hung over the mirror in his bathroom to hide the reflection, he wasn't very confident that would stop any ears from listening if they so chose.
He seemed to be waiting, watching her with the same guilty and numb expression, trying to offer another part to her as though confused what else he should be doing.
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Posted: Wed Feb 23, 2011 11:17 pm
The shake of his head was reassuring...to a point. Now a whole slew more questions were surfacing in her dim mind, and none of them she could bring herelf to ask. All she could think of, was: 'What happened, why is he doing this, what went wrong, how can I fix it'; over and over and over.
A grey eye moved to the offered part - a foot, it looked like - and then back up to him. She did notice the new stitches, but she did recall how uncomfortable he was with a free mouth, so she merely passed it off as Christof making himself comfortable again. He seemed pretty desparate to make her take or at least look at the part, and with a little sniffle she reached out to take it from him. She didn't look it over, she didn't fidget with it in her hands, she just held it and stared down at it.
All the while, that same mantra rang through her head; What Happened to him, Why is he doins this, What went wrong, How can I fix it...though a new addition was added in the form of 'Why is he lying to me?'. He might have shaken his head no...but if she didn't do anything wrong, why wasn't he acting like he usually did?
He must have been lying to her, then. There was no other way.
In a move that surprised even herself, she threw the foot back at him; or at least tried. Who knew where it went. Regardless, she stared at him in extreme distress; she looked like she was crying, but no tears fell.
"If it isn't me, then why are you being so cold?!" She demanded in a shaking voice; she'd never experienced this before; she didn't know what else to do!
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