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 Posted: Sat Mar 31, 2012 3:02 am
Gene involuntarily started slightly when Mort's hand grasped her own, her own expression a mix of pleasure and surprise. All self deprecating thoughts were gone for a moment, as she wrapped her own fingers around the zomboil's hand. Had she no self control, she would have leaned in for a kiss right there and then, but she still had restraint.
His words finally registered, and Gene squeezed the boil's hand. He thought her thoughts were admirable? That was the best thing he could have said at that moment, opening her up to the other part of what he said. She was being too hard on herself. She's let that sink in for a while, content to look at Mort for a while, examining every bit of him. Gene could see how battleworn the boil was, how much he kept fighting. He certainly believed in himself.
"Mort... what keeps you going? How are you so optimistic; how do you keep fighting?" Her words were sincere, not patronizing. She needed to know how the worn and torn boil could look life in the eye and give it the middle finger.
She found his persistence hot.
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Posted: Sat Mar 31, 2012 2:02 pm
Gene might've had all eyes on him, but Mort was still rather slkfjlsdkfjlsdjf and barely able to keep his gaze on the clenched hands they had, let alone look at her at all. How was he supposed to answer that sort of question? He didn't think things through? He was actually this badass? He took therapy on the side? He'd actually cracked around his team and shown his worse side? Which did ghouls like to hear more, the truth or something awesome??
"Mrrr . . ." There was a sudden itch on his neck but he couldn't move any part of him to scratch out of anxiety, like making any sudden movements would suddenly cause Gene to freak out and eat his arm or something. His mind was humming loudly, trying to process the right answer out of so many options, but the guilt of his past actions was threatening to swallow him first. Think, Jackdamnit, this isn't a hard question.
Yes it was. Oh it totally, totally was. Only his brain refused to think of that answer, instead reminding him of things like what date etiquette was, and that the sun was a glowing jack-o-lantern, and that he really needed to take Lanna out for a walk again, and that he was a stupid idiot who couldn't take control of his own actions, and -
"Er . . . I, ah . . . I-Is tough question -"
And then, sweet escape: "McNeal order up!"
You'd never seen a more relieved zombie than him. "Ah, hold thought," he told her, letting go of Gene's hand to head to the counter. Sweet Sally it smelled delicious! He couldn't even be mad as he emptied his wallet out for the woman and picked up box and bag, ready to devour these things whole if Gene wasn't fast enough. "Er, your room or mine?"
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Posted: Sun Apr 01, 2012 7:51 am
Mort's silence unnerved the Ghoul a bit, making her think that maybe she had gone too deep. Too deep was a total turn off, the magazines said. They also said that she needed to stop drinking coffee or else she'd have headaches when she got older, but that was just silly. Mort did seem rather pressed though, like an animal backed into a corner by a predator. She hadn't meant to be a predator...
Oh thank Jack, the pizza was ready. When Mort had gone to get the pizza, Gene wrapped her scarf around her neck once more, taking her place next to Mort as they walked out of the restaurant. She made sure not to cling to his arm this time, for two reasons. One, he was carrying the food and two, she didn't want to be predatory again. Give him time to recover from her mental probing, and maybe come up with an answer to the question. She still wanted to know, after all.
"Mmm...that smells unholy. I can't wait to stuff it in..." The thought of pungent, hot sticks of bread in her mouth made the ghoul;s mouth water slightly. "Your place would be good...mine's kind of a mess at the moment." More like a toxic wasteland, thanks to her days of lethargy. Disgusting.
As they walked back to the dorms, the ghoul perked up at a thought that had just entered her head. "My friends keep me going. I know that sounds incredibly cliche, but I just can't stand the thought of them having a bad reputation, or even being sad." She paused for a second, then decided to hook her arm in Mort's once again. "Sometimes, though, I just get so overwhelmed... but that's when I need my friends the most." She stood on her tiptoes, and pecked the boil's cheek. "I'm glad we're friends Mort." She blushed, continuing their stride.
I'd like us to be more, though.
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Posted: Sun Apr 01, 2012 2:11 pm
His place? Ho boil . . . Though Gene was lucky that she gave him only a peck, as to linger any longer would've meant to feel the zap that went through his body as a result of it; good thing he had a grip on the box and the bag balanced atop, else it might've toppled over. As Gene slid her arm back in about his, the zomboil began to calculate.
Okay buddy, she basically asked you to go out on a dinner date with a movie, she keeps looping her arm around yours, and she kissed you. What does that add up to?
It was a peck, not a kiss. Very different.
Don't nitpick a detail when the picture stares you down.
Taryn gaves me a few pecks on the cheek too, and so did Belladonna; that just means good friendship.
Taryn didn't set up something like this, and Bells you haven't heard from in ages. This is different.
It's two friends deciding to hang out after a traumatizing event and comfort each other.
Whatever, dude. Ignore your genre savvy all you want.
By the time he came around, the pause for him to answer had been a bit more extended than was normal, and he hastily replied, "Y-Yeah, same." s**t. "Free coffee's always nice, heh." s**t s**t s**t. Why was he such a moron? He was probably making everything more awkward than they needed to be.
"But, er . . . is what friends do: help. Is family at school when real family is away." Speaking of (and with hope to find more stable ground to talk about) - "Did, er, d-did family watch trials?" he asked her.
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Posted: Thu Apr 26, 2012 4:51 pm
As they continued to walk and the silence grew longer and heavier, nearly at the point of an impregnated awkwardness, Gene's stomach clenched in a very pained fear, a fear of having gone too far. Had the peck been too much; turning her from annoying mosquito to full blown tyrannosaurus? Had her forwardness completely turned the boil off, and now he was just tolerating her? Her stomach clenched tighter, and she felt the uncanny urge to vomit which she couldn't follow up on, due to being physically incapable; plus it would kill any meager shred of hope of getting closer to Mort that could possibly exist.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"Mmm, I like to think of our classmates that way. I need to get to know my family more, though." The notion was said with a tint of fleeting remorse, before Mort busted out the big question. Actual family.
Gene had no physical family that she knew of. She just woke up one day, and wandered until she found the academy. She felt a tug at her heart, signed up, and that was that.
"Well... no. I don't exactly have a family to come watch me die multiple times, or even check up on my grades." She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear before she went on, brow slightly furrowed. She was frustrated by the fact, for reasons she couldn't quite grasp herself. "I just came to exist one day, a humanoid lump of putty, and began to wander. I saw a Reaper ghoul one day, copied her, and that became my 'true' form. I kept wandering until I found Amity, and, feeling compelled by a tugging of my heartstrings, I signed up." During her discourse, she then realized, her pace of movement and speech had increased in frustration. Grimacing at the thought of showing such aggression, the doppelganger bit her lip and tried to put a sweet voice back on, with minimal success.
"I've always entertained notions of having a family, though...
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Posted: Thu Apr 26, 2012 11:12 pm
Good job digging that hole there, Mort.
He couldn't fathom not having a home to return to, even if he hadn't really thought of his Mama in so long; letters were something, sure, but not a constant. More like a once a month thing, if at that. Had he the capability to, he would've ran a hand through his hair as he always did when nervous; a twist of the mouth would do. "I-If want, can look for adopted family," Mort suggested hesitantly, unsure of how she'd take to the idea. "Is what I did, see. Not born normal here, was rez'd by reaper, er . . . twoish years ago."
He failed to mention that his first "family" had all but crumbled apart with his mother's disappearance, or the fact that he hadn't searched so much as he was picked by someone else: really who wanted to hear stuff like that now?
He shifted the boxes of food in his arms, spying the academy looming ahead. Not far to the hill where the Victorian-style dorm of the undead laid, especially at the hastened pace Gene set them on suddenly. "Don't, ah, don't have to, though," he added in almost an undertone. "Could always get inducted to friend's family too, honorary member. Or think've school a-as home, friends as family." She'd sounded so sad talking about it, he was at a loss of what to tell her: was there even a right answer?
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Posted: Sun Apr 29, 2012 5:23 am
No Mort, there was no right answer. Cuddles would help though.
Hmm...an adopted family? No, that didn't sound like that good of an idea. She was sure there were tons of families out there who wanted a daughter, but not a sixteen year old ghoul that came with some damaged baggage. They'd want a fresh scareling, probably, or an example of perfection. She didn't want to be a burden.
"Haha, fat chance of getting inducted into a friend's family. You're the only one I ever really hang out with, Mort, coworkers withstanding. And they're all older, with families of their own. No, I'll just go with the school as my home option, since it already is that way." Her tone was rather cynical suddenly, quite the surprise to the ghoul. Maybe the trials had gotten to her more than she thought they had.
Had she hurt Mort with her tone?
Crap.
"S...sorry. I know you're just trying to help. Those trials have just really set me off..." She pulled herself a little closer to the zombie, pressing her body closer to his.
And then, they were at the dorms. She detached herself from the zomboil and got the door, so Mort could walk in and lead them to his dorm. She noticed how cold it was in passing, and found herself enjoying it.
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Posted: Sun Apr 29, 2012 2:09 pm
Had she said aloud her thoughts about not being adopted for her baggage, he would've been stung. As it was, he walked on in silence for a bit wondering what in Halloween could be said to a girl already that cynical about her status in life? After her apology, Mort glanced at her as she scooted closer, still unsure of what to say but squeezing her arm a bit with his - hopefully that meant something. "A-Am serious about adoption," he said in a rather mild tone. "Always are couples r' singles wanting kids. Know if talked to Mama, she would prolly s-say yes."
Except then that'd technically make them siblings and then this whole thing would be more awkward and oh look, there were the dorms! He hastened her over inside, hoping the Victorian interior would distract Gene from the stupid insinuation. His room was down the hall near the painting of Jack Skellington, and of course locked. Rather than ask the ghoul to hold onto the food, Mort shifted the load a bit until a hand was freed and popped it off. "Keys please," he told it, and the hand scurried up his pants leg, dug into his pocket, and pulled out the dorm key. It then proceeded to climb up the door's wooden threshold that surrounded it and leapt to the knob, clinging on with its fourth and fifth fingers while the index and thumb fumbled with unlocking it.
Click.
A hurried mesh of steps came form the other side of the door, punctuated by snorts and squeals. "P-Pigimps," Mort explained to her as his hand opened the door and three littleguys ran out, flustered and excitable as puppies. They ran immediately to Mort first, but upon spying the ghoul they rushed as one and began to scurry about her feet, snouts twitching. "Won't bite," he promised before stepping inside. Thank Jack Brian hadn't been the one to see them . . .
Mort's room was a messy one, with several shirts cloaking the floor like rugs, the bed unmade and currently occupied by a sleeping fancy foxfire, and the table cluttered with aged papers that had designs on them - some Gene might recognize from their meeting at Bloodbucks. It was currently dark, but Mort's unhinged hand managed to clamber up the bedpost and push the light switch on. It was as cold as a fridge within, just how he liked it. "E-Er, make self at home. Sorry for mess."
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Posted: Mon Apr 30, 2012 3:34 pm
Gene sort of just laughed the comment about Mort asking his mother to adopt her off, very aware of how terribly awkward that would make everything. As if they needed any more awkward barriers between them! "It's alright Mort, I really will take Amity in as my family. I mean, we're all fighting for each other anyway, so why not make the best of it?" She gave him a sweet smile to show appreciation for the arm squeeze, and watched on as he opened the door with a detached hand. So cool!
She squealed as the Pigimps clustered about her feet, dripping down to start playing with them and tickling their little bellies. So cute! She picked the red one up, cradling it as they walked into the dorm. She piqued an eyebrow at the mess - she really had no room to talk - but sat on Mort's bed anyway, exchanging the Pigimp for the Foxfire, gently and slowly petting its soft fur. Mmm, it was nice and cold in here.
"Home sweet home, hm? Quite cozy." She took another sweep of the room, and noticed the papers. "Any progress on the robo-hand and goggles?" Note to self: buy Mort a filing cabinet.
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Posted: Mon Apr 30, 2012 4:19 pm
The pig imps squealed with delight at the affection, scattering to follow Mort once they realized once again that he was the bearer of food. "Eeeeer, some. K-Kinda took break for trials n' all," Mort replied as he set the pizza boxes down and began to try and sweep the table clean of his work, tossing the papers on top of the tv haphazardly; he really wasn't an organized person if Gene hadn't gotten that yet. Once the table looked presentable enough, Mort began to scour the room for plates, eventually finding them in the cabinet which the ScreV was atop of. With the fridge in reach, he popped it open and peeked over the door to look at her. "What drink y'want? Have Mad Dr. Pepper, Spite, Pumpkin Juice -"
And there he paused, staring not at Gene but at the tiny figure behind her. His freed hand had kept to the shadows and crept quietly up the bedpost behind the ghoul, creeping like a spider until it hid under one of the folds of the bedsheets. Mort wasn't a mindreader, but he knew from past experience what it was going to do and felt a stab of horror in his nonbeating heart.
Gene's boobs weren't safe. Neither was her butt.
"Sh-Sh-Should come grab slices 'fore g-gets too cold," Mort told her hastily, gesturing desperately with his good hand for her to get off the bed. The rogue hand, sensing its window of opportunity was about to close, sprang forward to grasp what lied beneath that tempting little skirt.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2012 2:48 pm
"Spite sounds good..." The ghoul's voice was very soft and not completely there, more focused on petting the Fancy Foxfire and eyeing the placing of Mort's things. Okay, scratch the filing cabinet, she was going to teach him to organize. Later, though, when she wasn't trying to swoon the zomboil.
Giving the boil a very confused face at his desperate attempts at getting her over to the table, Gene put the Foxfire down on the bed and began to comply when she felt it. Cold, clammy, five digits, and squeezing quite vigorously. She blinked once, then twice. Red flashed through her vision, giving everything a crimson tint. She snorted as a bull about to charge would, and shifted her right hand into a very sharp set of talons before wrenching the hand off her buttocks, giving it a very firm squeeze, and throwing it against the wall.
Everything was still crimson as she shifted her hand back to normal, giving Mort a face that stated everything she felt; anger, shock, confusion, and hurt. "You should replace that hand with the robot." In one movement she'd grabbed a slice of pizza and took a seat at the table, taking small bites and staring at the floor.
Mort had just groped her. Inadvertently, yes, but still.
Mort touched her butt.
Under very different circumstances, she would have enjoyed it, and probably reciprocated.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2012 3:14 pm
Well . . . s**t. Mort was still staring seconds after his hand had been swiftly dealt with. He knew that ghosts were the more malleable species, but never had he seen such quick and distinct shifting. Was was Gene specifically anyway? He remembered suddenly how she mentioned copying someone's appearance which was what he saw normally, so . . . Doppleganger? He was afraid to ask at this point, having already made a fool of himself without actually even doing it personally. His hand might have been severed from the body, but the zomboil still winced at the harsh collision of flesh to wood.
"U-Uh, good reflexes," he complimented mildly, ducking his head and giving the ghoul a wide berth while she ate to retrieve the hand; it was currently spasming in pain on the ground, turning to writhing when it was picked up. A quick shock stilled it. "Am very, very, very sorry for action. Forget, left hand is from right s-side brain, g-good spatial reasoning, impetuousness, enjoys risks n' possibilities . . ." He rambled off the facts unwittingly, desperate to try and make Gene understand that he was only still learning how his new ability operated, even if it wouldn't exactly make her feel better.
With the hand reigned in, Mort put it under his arm and went back to the fridge to get their drinks. A two liter of Spite was put on the table, and without asking he immediately poured her cup close to the brim, guilt written all over his face; a bit of soda sloshed off the side (it was rather hard to steady a full bottle with one hand and a stump after all), and he whined softly at the mess, not wanting to look even more incompetent. "S-Sorry, sorry . . ."
While Mort cleaned up with a few of the napkins the pizza came with, Lanna, ever the princess, followed Gene to the couch; the smell of warm food was hard to resist after all, and the new ghoul was already on her good side for the affection given. She stood on two legs and pawed lightly at her skirt, hoping to be scooped up again, or perhaps given food - or both!
Eventually the table was cleaned and the napkins thrown away, and the zomboil pulled up a chair across from her (not daring to sit by Gene, even he wasn't so dense as to try that now). Hands wringing themselves under the table, Mort switched his gaze between the space next to her and the foxfire begging at her feet, venturing after a period of awkward silence, "Was, e-er, very neat trick did. Can manipulate body to any shape?"
Compliments. He'd have to shower her with compliments to have a chance at redemption.
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 2:50 pm
Allowing Mort to pour her soda - and having enough self discipline not to yell at him for spilling some - Gene picked Lanna up and began to gently pet her once again, offering the crust of the slice to the fancy foxfire. She listened as Mort explained why what happened had happened, and gave a curt nod as he finished up. The hand definitely seemed to enjoy risks...
She sighed, blowing off the red tint that had covered everything. He hadn't meant to do it, she knew he hadn't meant to do it all along, but she couldn't help but hang on to the hurt and rage that had gripped her quite violently after the incident. Sighing again, she took a sip of her Spite (which was very cold and fizzy, the perfect combo) to wash down the pizza, and picked up a garlic bread stick. Mmm... Garlic. She'd heard that in some circles, it was used as an aphrodisiac. The thought turned her face instantly red, and she coughed loudly to cover.
Once that was settled, the ghoul decided that it was time to break the silence. "It's... less of a trick and more of a part of who I am. I'm a Doppelganger; I copy people - and people includes Monsters." She took a bite of the bread stick, and teased it in her mouth for a while. Mmm... hot and herbal. Swallowing, she began more of her Doppelgagner discourse. "I can do it with any part of my body, and mostly any shape. I've yet to perfect copying Monster heads, but I can do everything below pretty well." It was at this point that a very, very devious thought entered the ghoul's head.
She stood up then, and walked behind Mort, as if to grab some more pizza. With him ignorant and her out of his sight, she unwrapped her scarf and hung it around his neck in a very teasing fashion. "I'm more visual myself, though. How about I just demonstrate a few things to you?" Knowing how much boils liked... parts, Gene took to hugging Mort's neck from behind. "Anyone I ever see, I can copy them. The lady at Demino's, for instance." Suddenly, Mort would feel quite the weight against his neck called Gene's new and improved ample bosom, courtesy of Mia from Demino's.
Hmm...maybe what she'd heard about garlic was right.
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Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 3:31 pm
Sadly, rather than see the ghoul blush he'd thought for a moment the red tinge on her face meant he was in for a world of hurt. Mort was too afraid to even grab one slice of pizza while she ate, at best mildly sipping his drink; Spite wasn't his favorite, but it was like he was afraid to move out of his chair lest he somehow managed to screw that up as well. When Gene had gotten up and moved behind him, the zomboil expected some sort of lecture about how women were not sex toys that could be played with, and that she was ashamed of him regardless, and that she just wanted to leave, maybe leave a parting gift by grabbing his a** with those nasty looking claws -
So the scarf was a bit unexpected to say the least. And the neck hug. And the - His eyes widened. Was that what he thought it was against the back of his neck?
sdlkfjdslkfalkjflkafjaoifj
This had to be a test. Ghouls loved confusing the opposite gender with their wiles. Okay, so what was the right answer? Should he say "I like you for your personality, not for your amazing ability to turn into all the sexy things ever?" Should he compliment the new rack? "I-I-I see," Mort stammered as he glanced up at her, flustered and confused and pleasantly surprised all at once. "W-Would be, errrr, very handy."
Jack, did he really just say that?
. . . And did she say any part below the head?
Nononononono, no guttering! Not here, not now.
"C-Could, ah, be perfect model for pictures. Or spy, hiding as a-anyone. Am envious can control power like that at first year." Unlike him.
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Posted: Thu May 03, 2012 2:58 pm
Gene clung on to the boil's neck for a moment longer, letting him feel the pressure decrease as she returned her bosom to its original average size while she gently rubbed his shoulders, smirking all the while. Yes, she had just done that. Yes, it was partial payback for getting groped. The other part? Jack himself only knew. When the Zomboil made his 'handy' comment, the Doppelganger made sure to squeeze his shoulders a bit too hard, and maybe with a bit of claw, to show her displeasure.
Normally she wouldn't be like this to any boil that she liked, but the after-effects of a too real fake death still hadn't run their course. She was raw, and her facade of confidence was long broken. Later on, Gene would hope that Mort wouldn't hate her for this night. At the moment, however, she wasn't all that concerned with leaving a good impression.
Sitting across from the boil and picking Lanna up once more, she gave a slice of pizza to the boil. "Eat. You paid for it, and I certainly can't eat all of that." She stroked the fur of the Foxfire, smiling at the way she cooed. "Life lesson, Mort: Never, ever, call a physical part of a woman 'handy', especially after your own rogue hand just groped her." She wasn't condescending, just a tad annoyed but staying informative. Some boils just didn't know - that's what the magazines said anyway. "As for modelling, no. Spy? Also wouldn't work too well. See, even though I can look like nearly anything I want, my Fear stays that of a Ghost. That's why that Roch boil nearly killed me - he could sense I was a Ghost, and since he's not their biggest fan..." She trailed off, pausing for a sip of soda. "Basically, only Scarelings would be completely fooled by a shift. But it does give quite the physical boon." He should know; he'd just experienced two circumstances in which shape shifting gave the ghoul the upper hand.
His questions about a future career brought up a new topic though, one much less awkward and not anger inducing. The Future! "Mort, what do you think you'll do once you graduate?" If we don't get killed by Hunters or crazed horsemen, she nearly slipped in.
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