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 Posted: Sun Jan 07, 2007 2:00 am
"Ice ice ice ice ice ice ice..."
Tea resisted the urge to throw something --ooh, there was a cabinet right right there-- and instead curled his fingers into the palms of his hands, feeling the nails dig slightly lightly into the flesh, the telltale marks on his fore and middle finger from where he had held a pen for too long, marking it permanently with callous on otherwise smooth skin.
The bottle of aspirin rattled gently inside the pocket of his gown as the tanned assistant shifted slightly, feeling the pills slide and shift inside.
Why was he even here again, can somebody please remind him?
Because Tea himself had no idea whatsoever as to just why he was standing here, freezing to death --sure, the door was open and it wasslightly warm, but it was still counted as something that you could only feel in, say, Antarctica and that was most certainly not a place that Tea was looking forward to going-- and watching the.. the stupid.. Zix.. humming something incredibly stupid and annoying and the zombiepersonassistant glaring at the necromancer like he was going to eat his brain----
But did Zix even have a brain for the assistantzombie to eat, he wonder?
Abandoning the notion immediately --it was hopeless, and besides, Tea already knew the answer anyway-- the tanned Italian glanced towards the two other figures again, paying particular interest-slash-attention in the way that the zombie assistant --Charlie, but it didn't matter-- was contemplating the silver watch lying innocently atop the pile of forms.
That would be interesting.
"Find your own damn matches."
"But I-----"
Tea could almost swear he just saw a vein throbbing in Charlie's temple.
But wasn't zombies supposed to be dead? And dead people.. they didn't have blood, not exactly, not when it wasn't running anymore and most certainly not when they had giant gaping hole in their chests---
Tea absently held out his glass as Zix moved towards him, light click of the glass being heard as a handful of ice --soon to be thawed, hopefully-- dropped into the cup. But if they had some sort of other source of-- no, scratch that, you couldn't have any fluid running anywhere, not enough to really propel them anyway, and--
"---What?"
It probably wasn't a question. It probably wasn't an even remotedly 'contemplating Zix's suggestion' either.
In fact, it had a definite tinge of 'I-dare-you-to-say-that-again-with-a-chainsaw-in-your-face-and-your-privates', and if that didn't do the trick, the slight narrowingflare of the darkannoyedangry eyes should have definitely done the trick and had whoever that had said it disappear. Very very fast.
The keyword here being should.
And he should definitely have kept it in mind that it was Zix.
And anybody sane knew what Zix was.
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Posted: Mon Jan 08, 2007 1:43 am
Zix didn’t even bother looking up from the desk, still rummaging for matches, because really, how was he supposed to warm the ice up enough to melt it if he didn’t have any matches? And if he couldn’t find the matches, then Tea would wander off to go and find other watery sources of liquidness and then he would be gone and that would just be bad. Zix didn’t get enough people here as it was.
So what if he had almost forcibly dragged Tea here? So what if Charlie boycotted the paperwork until it overflowed the desk? --or until the zombie gave into his assistant paper-tidying urges, whichever came first. Those matters were all inconsequential. Tea staying here, that was important.
Zix rather densely couldn’t figure out exactly why it was important, but it was. Keeping Tea here was important, and short of tying the assistant down, he was going to do everything he could think of to keep him here.
“Charlie saaaaaid,” he drawled absently, opening the top drawer and rifling through it, “that you were going to take me ou---eeeeeww, Charlie keeps a picture of his autopsy. That’s so…morbid.”
This coming from the necromancer.
Zix grimaced at the picture for a few more moments, debated showing it to Tea, then decided against it. Tea had a headache, remember? This sort of thing might aggravate the headache even more, which might make Tea leave and that would be bad. So, instead, he veryveryquietly put the picture back.
“It’s a bit distasteful, isn’t it, keeping a picture of your own autopsy?” Zix asked conversationally. Of course, he had to ask that just as a little zombie cut through the main room into one of the annexes, a flock of dead, decaying birds following.
And Zix, Mr. Oblivious, just plowed right on. “I mean, seriously, you wouldn’t think you would want to keep such a…a morbid bit of your life. And who takes pictures during autopsies anyway? Not exactly the most profitable photographers, I would imagine. Ne?” He glanced up, grinned at Tea, then moved on to the next drawer.
Moving onto the more important matters…
“Charlie said you were going to take me out.” He paused momentarily, resting his hand on a knobbly sort of something on the top of the desk that looked suspiciously like a skull. “Really, where are those matches? But we should go out. It’s so fun to just talk with people, isn’t it? Yes, yes it is.” He hummed happily, crouching down to peer curiously in the bottom drawers of the desk.
And if he ignored the fact that he was the one mostly rambling, or that Tea was still glaring darkly at him --maybe his glare got even darker, it was hard to tell with the lighting here-- then yes, it was true that it was fun to talk to people. Tea would probably prefer if said people didn’t include him but…oh well.
The necromancer sighed slightly, a rather melancholy gloom slipping over his face --thank god he was currently out of sight, no use making Tea think there was anything beyond bubblyhappybrightness because that was good---and said, almost absentmindedly, “It is rather easier to talk to people when they’re actually here, too…” In an uncharacteristically depressed sort of way, he tailed off, giving himself a moment to stare blankly at the drawer handle.
Okay, moment passed, no use giving Tea any opportunity to give him even more funny looks.
Happily, Zix bounced up, newly-found matches in hand. “See? He did know where they were. Probably wanted to use them himself, though I can’t quite imagine why he would.” More likely Charlie just wanted Zix to freeze to death or dehydrate to death, and surely one of those options was viable if he took the matches.
But this was Zix. He didn’t connect the dots like that. If they connected at all.
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Posted: Wed Jan 10, 2007 9:58 pm
Zanis stared down at the broken wrist, only half listening to Butter’s words. He wasn’t ignoring the zombie, he just wasn’t paying full attention. He wasn’t trying to be any sort of rude, it was just what he did. When he was thinking about something, he sometimes thought about it to the partial exclusion of others.
So hearing his name fall from Butter’s lips shocked him back to listening with his full attention.
Finding out what Butter actually said stunned him speechless.
Butter wanted…him?
The snake stared blankly at the zombie, an almost incredulous look on his face. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Butter…okay, yes it was. He didn’t believe for a minute that Butter wanted him. Maybe. Slightly. It was just that…people didn’t want Zanis. Zanis wanted peoplethings and he was ruthless in getting what he wanted, but it was always a pretty much one-way street. He wanted them, but they didn’t want him back.
Except…
But he didn’t count. Because…because he was an idiot. Besides, that had just been, like…physical, a release of pent-up emotions. There hadn’t been anything behind it. So Zix just didn’t count. And…and Kiba didn’t count either, because the boy had been idealistic and it had been more of a hero-worship thing anyway --which Zanis had no qualms about holding over the boy-- but that didn’t count either.
And Butter…with Butter, it couldn’t a physical want because…because Zanis hurt Butter, hurt him just by touching hurt snapped his wrist so it couldn’t be that because whywhywhy would Butter want someone who…who burned him? And it wasn’t hero-idol worship either because Butter was a zombie and zombies didn’t feel things like that about people. So…so why…
Dammit, his hands were shaking again. Swallowing, Zanis blinked, grip shiftingtightening around Butter’s hand, noting fractionally the way the pale hand tightenedclenched on his shirt. It shouldn’t…just because someone said they wanted him didn’t mean he had to totally freak out, it should not be affecting him like this it was just three little words I want Zanis it didn’t make sense.
Because…people didn’t want Zanis. They just didn’t. Because he hurt people and he liked hurting people and he knew that other people didn’t like that, he knew that. He knew that and he knew that people didn’tcouldn’twouldn’t ever want him beyond some physical need, and he was okay with that, because if he was hurting someonesomething then he didn’t particularly care whether he was wanted or not. He always had been and he was and he always will be fine with that fact.
So why the hell did Butter saying that make him feel like…like this? Like someone had finally said something he’d been waiting to hear, even if he didn’t know he’d been waiting to hear it. Because he hadn’t. Zanis hadn’t, he knew he hadn’t been waiting to hear anyone say that, because he knew himself, and he would have known if he had been waiting to hear something like that, he would have known. He would have known, and he knew he hadn’t, so…so why was he feeling like this?
Zanis swallowed, took a breath, and managed a soft, simple “Why?” He realized, belatedly, that he had just done this with Butter, though the roles had been reversed, but…but he wanted to know. Because he knew that people didn’twouldn’t want him, knew that his desirability was somewhere below zero, and now he…and now Butter wanted him, said he wanted Zanis, and Zanis wantedneeded to know why?
Carefully, gently, he reached over, hand resting lightly against the side of Butter’s head, on the coarse thick hair. Absently, he brushed his thumb against the zombie’s temple, flinching only marginally at the brightangryhotredpink streak the touch left. “Why?” he asked again, voice soft and almost carrying a childlike wonder at the inquiry. “Why would you want someone like me? I only…” I only hurt you… It just…didn’t make sense. Why would Butter want someone who could only ever burn him every time they touched? Who would break thingsbonespurewhitebones in a fit of anger just because. It didn’t make sense whywhywhy would Butter say that?
He would admit that he didn’t…didn’t totally hate Butter saying he wanted Zanis. In fact, he would definitely have to say that he quite liked it, that someone wanted him for a change, instead of him wanting themitwhateveritwas. He just…he didn’t understand it. It didn’t make sense.
And things that didn’t make sense were worryingnervousscary because Zanis didn’t know what nonsensical things would do. And if he didn’t know what it would do, he couldn’t control it, it made him nervous and he didn’t like it and this may have been a little different, but it still didn’t make sense. Therefore, it was still out of his control. Even if he liked Butter wanting him, it didn’t make sense, and he didn’t like that.
Goldeyesgaze flickered slightly, tracing the sharpbrightangryhotburning edge of the mark on Butter’s forehead, noting how verysovery pretty the contrast looked between the burn mark and the palewhitedeadcold skin around it. Then he felt a sharpuneasydaggercold pang, so he shifted his gaze to meet Butter’s palecolorlesspretty eyes.
Maybe it was guilt, that nervoustinglyuneasyit’smyfault sort of feeling. Zanis had heard about it, but hadn’t actually felt it before. But Butter was making him feel all sorts of weirdnewbizarrestrange feelings, so…so maybe it was guilt, even though it wasn’t his fault because Butter had tried to leave. But…he hurt Butter burned Butter by touching him why does he want to be with Zanis?
Carefullygentlyslowly, Zanis ran his fingers through the coarsedarkpretty locks, jaw tightened eversoslightly at the red streaks his fingers left on the zombie’s scalp before the dark hair fell back in place and covered them. He…Butter wanted Zanis, and Zanis wanted Butter too, so…so why was he still confused terriblyterribly confused?
“It doesn’t make sense,” he murmured, eyes swirlingflickering darkly for a brief flash of a second. “I don’t understand why you would want me…” Because Butter was perfect and pretty and colddollikedead and Zanis was hot and alive muchtooalive and why would anyone want that? Butter was perfect and Zanis was…he was good but it wasn’t perfection, not like Butter was.
And if it wasn’t perfect, what was the point?
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Posted: Fri Jan 12, 2007 6:55 pm
Must. Suppress. Ungodly. Urges.
Urges to just grab anything closest to him and smash-stab-beat-slice the necromancer to an untimely --not-- and most unfortunate --not-- death.
Tea took a slow, deep breath, casting his gaze away from the rambling figure of the other male and tried the all-time method of trying to distract himself with something else in the room. Something else that wouldn't force him to focus back on just what Zix was saying. Something that wouldn't land him in a lifetime service in jail. Something...
"---eeeeeww, Charlie keeps a picture of his autopsy. That's so...morbid"
Something nothing. Screw the lifelong jail term, screw his 'ultimate duty as a doctor' screw everything. Tea was going to kill him and kill him now. There was no choice. He had to save his brain, his sanity, his..
The tanned assistant shifted the grip on the --heavy and sturdy; it would do for the moment-- glass cup in his hand, his sharp dark gaze darkening further --if that was even possible; it was already close to rivaling that most usually reserved to 'Demons in Hell' category-- on the other male. Tea pursed his lips slightly, the corner of his lips twisting slightly in annoyance as he half-snapped, half-growled. "I am not taking you out anywhere."
..Except to Eternal Everlasting Hellfire.
Tea slowly raised the glass, about to crash it down on the unsuspecting head of the necromancer, muscles taut, and---
---and his eyes met those of the small zombie-thing that had just walked in from one of the rooms leading off the big room that they were in. It was fast being followed by a flock of.. of Zix's pet birds.
...were those eating it?
The assistant hastily lowered the glass, resuming the dark glare and 'don't-talk-or-look-at-me-I-shall-kill-you' look at the zombie, who ambled slowly across the room and into one of the other, smaller chambers. Of course, that also could have had to do with the fact that Zix had turned around. Only to grin at him.
...Stupidstupidstupidstupidannoyingstupidstupid..!!
But really, why had he lowered the glass? Tea could just have easily killed Zix whether he was looking at him or not. That just wasn't the point. It was the matter of Burning Hatred, Annoyance, and.. and yeah, Tea hated Zix. Did he really need that reminder?
No, no he didn't. Because he knew he hated Zix. Tea knew that. So there was absolutely no reason for his mind to remind him that he should be hating Zix. Because he did.
"--Yes, he did say that." Tea grudgingly admitted, the sort of tone creeping into his voice which meant that he did not like it one bit not at all, but it was the reality, whether an individual liked it or not. "But I'm sure he meant something else." Of course. Something else that did not involve Zix's idea of taking out. Because really, from what Tea saw of Charlie, his idea of taking out anyone, especially if it was Zix, it was sure to involve blood. And either sharp or blunt instruments. Either way.
And it being Zix, Tea ignored the slight lapse in Zix's chattering. Because he didn't care.
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Posted: Sun Jan 14, 2007 5:16 pm
Why?
Why did he want Zanis?
Butter merely tilted his head a little to one side at the burningheat printing itself intoontoover his temple, flinchingjumping only very marginally, the momentary flash of heatpainpainpain subsiding even as the zombie felt the bitingsharp touch.
He felt rather more than actually see the other male flinch, the sort of tremortremble passingconnecting through the touch of Zanis' thumb, through the hand wrapped around his own palecolddead one, and almost instinctively the zombie leant in, notlikingnotlikingatallhating the strangeweirdbad feelingsomethingnothingness of that little shaketremble.
And Butter didn'tlike the badstrangenotgood look in the yellowgoldenpretty eyes when he looked up.
Why? Because it was Zanis. Zanis, who wantedneededButter when nobody noone nothing else would because it was Butter and Butter wasn't anything special anythinggood anything that would possibly make anyone want him. Because Butter was deadcoldnotdeaduseless and sosososo so very different from everyotherthing everything he shouldn't be here Butter didn't belong here. His place was down there, down the deepcoldslimymuddy earth way way waaay down where he should be lying down should have been but he just wasn't and because Butter was so wrong..!
And peopleeveryoneanyone just didn't want something so.. so wrong as Butter.
That was why it was so strange so weird --was that why it felt so differentfunny, trailing like flutteringfeatheryweird feeling down his chest?-- to hear Zanis say that he wanted Butter, wanted Butter because he was Butter, not because he was deadusefulinterestingsomethingnothing a million reasons why the scientistsotherpeople wanted him it was different from all of those all of them.
They wanted him because he was dead, they wanted him because he was -was-- useful, they wanted him so they could cut into him in a million different ways, so they could bleed him a hundred thousand times and he would be fine, not like a living specimen at all, very useful, even though it could still feel heat, you know.
But Zanis', why Zanis wanted Butter, it wasn't one of them. It was different, it was uniquespecialunlikeanything, and it was.. it was good.
And he said so, he had said it said because Butter is Butter and he was he was Butter and wantingneeding the actualButterallofhim all of himself it was.. it was special, wasn't it? Because if Zanis did really want all of Butter, then.. then it must be because.. because Zanis didn't care about the wrongness that he was, the deadcoldness Butterwassowrongwhy?
Why?! The question somehow seemed to echo inside the zombie's mind, even as he opened his lipsmouth, needing to answer it wanting to answer it he wanted Zanis because it was Zanis because Zanis wanted Butter because it was Butter but why want someonesomething who only hurt when you touched them?
And.. and Butter knew he somehow --he didn't quite understand the how of it, how can just mere cold hurt blindingburning heat?-- he had somehow hurt Zanis, he had hurt Zanis he was he is hurting him Butter could see because.. because Zanis' brightgoldenprettyperfect eyes seemed wrong, wrong not as in Butterwrong but something'sbadwrong, like.. like something much so much like what Butter felt when Zanis touched him, all wantingneeding but it hurt so..
"I want you." The zombie repeated again, the words leaving his lips almost defiantly boldly hewantedZanis. The pale eyes blinked, a half-surprised look almost slipping over the gaze, an almost almost surprised sort of look, like he himself didn't quite understand it either.
"I want Zanis because..." A slow pause for breath, lightslight gaspbreathintake of air into drydeadcold lungs and not even a slightest hint of anything in the whitepale eyes, just pale blank dolllike and confused, notknowing howwhatwhyanythingnothing why and the question clogging his throat but it was so hard to get the words out, squeezing through the lump of air inside him pressing down his chest.
"It doesn't have to make sense." The zombie shifted slightly, pressingmovingawayinto the burningtrailing touch to his scalp, lank dark hair falling into his eyes which caught the light from the ceiling briefly but no sooner going back to the original emptyblankpale gaze. A soft puff of cold breathair escaped from between his lips as Butter drew slightly closer, his grip on the other's shirt flexing a little. It didn't have to make sense. "Because nothing makes sense."
The hand tightening around the shirt, the flextwist of muscles Zanis had to know this because.. because Butter wasn't sure why he wanted Zanis either, why he wanted Zanis, why he wanted his touches his kisses he didn't know why but..
"I'm dead." The words, the two words one word sharpcoldemotionless syllable dropped from the zombie's lips and a slight involuntary shiver went though Butter, the eyes breaking contact and closing softly for a moment. As if he had just stabbed himself in the chest and felt the chillymetalcold slicingsliding into him. Pain.
"I'm dead and I'm moving and I'm talking and.. and I'm here and that doesn't make sense." The heat from Zanis' body burned him, burned Butter even through the clothes even through the inch or so of space of emptycold air between them and.. "It doesn't make sense why I want you, but I do."
The bloodbrokenbone protested faintly as Butter slowly flexed the fingers of the hand, the white gaze flicking down momentarily to look down rather curiously at the trails of blood, --cracks here and there where the blood had dried; melted onto his skin like glue-- but soon coming back up to meet the goldenyellow again, the forefinger softly lightly brushingtracing the doctor's cheek and involuntarily leaving a light, faint streak of blood. "I don't know why I want to touch you, but I do."
Even though.. even though it hurts.
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Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2007 7:08 pm
It doesn’t…have to make sense…?
Another tremble slid through the snake’s body, this one more involuntary than the last and that wasn’t logical at all. If it didn’t make sense, didn’t have to make sense, then that meant that there was no reason, there was no…no purpose for all the whys. It meant that things just were, that it didn’t matter why simply because it just is. And…and what kind of reasoning was that?
Things had to be logistical, they had to make sense, because things that didn’t make sense were uncontrollable and things that were uncontrollable were just that; he couldn’t control uncontrollable things. And…and Zanis’ control was the most important thing, the biggestmostimpotant thing he hadwasis. If he didn’t have control, then…then it just didn’t work.
And how could he have control over things that were uncontrollable?
Zanis chuckled dryly, the sound harsh and almost grating, but tinged with a faintslightalmostinvisible hint of sadness. “You don’t make sense? That doesn’t make sense.” He gave another dry chuckle. “Butter, you are the only one who does make sense. It’s because you’re dead that you make more sense than everyone else. You’re unique and special and perfect and there’s no one else like you, and it’s because you’re dead. And that makes perfect sense.”
He gave a soft, slightfaintsmall smile, almost amused by the idea that Butter would ever could ever think that being dead was wrong and didn’t make sense. Must be all those other stupidannoyingfeelingalive doctors who said things like that, because being alive was in no way better than Butter.
Because Butter is perfect.
People wereare too everything, toohot toofeeling tooemtional tooflawed and it was just wrong. Had he ever been able to choose, Zanis would have chosen a living death over actual life in a heartbeat. Oh, for sure, Zix had offered to let him off himself or whatever and then bring him back, but it wouldn’t have been the same. Even if Zanis had been turned into a zombie, he still would have remembered that heat inside of him, that notice that says You Are Alive he never would have forgotten that and living like that, dead but still remembering being alive, now that didn’t make sense.
That was why Butter was perfect, why Butter was everything so whoever gave Butter the idea that he didn’t make sense was wrong. Wrong so very wrong because Butter was dead Butter wasn’t hot and that made all the sense in the world and anyone who said otherwise was wrong.
The doctor gave a gentle sigh, eyes softening faintlyslightly as he studied the zombie, running his fingers through the coarsedarkpretty locks of hair again. He didn’t like the heat, he didn’t like feeling so alive, so he hated everythinganythingallthings and he wasn’t so hot anymore. But now he couldn’t do that because he couldn’t hate Butter, beautiful perfect pretty Butter who was so cold Zanis simple couldn’t hate him and this feeling went beyond a want, it somehow transgressed into a need.
Which almostalmost didn’t make sense. When he got close to Butter, when he was near Butter that burninghotachingtearing feeling rose up in his throat and tried to eat him away and it hurt, hurthurthurt because it was just another sign that he was alive, another sign that he was too hot and that was all wrong. Zanis didn’t like being hot, didn’t like it at all.
But…but he liked that burning, almostmaybepossibly. He liked wantingneeding Butter like this, and he almostmaybe liked that tingly burning feeling in his throat, even if it did hurt. Even if it did hurt, even if it was too hot and just showed him how alive he really was, he…he maybesortof…liked it.
And that didn’t make sense.
He sighed again, his hand sliding free of Butter’s hair and wrapping around the zombie’s shoulders, pulling Butter close. Zanis knew it was hurting, knew when he pulled back the brightredflarehotangry marks would be tattooed across the pretty porcelain skin, and he knew that it was his fault because he was alivetoohotnotcoldenough…but…but Butter had said it was okay, kindofsortof. He’d said he wanted to touch Zanis, even if it hurt, even if it didn’t make sense, even…even if Zanis was alive. He’d said. So…so it was okay, right? It was okay to do this. Maybe.
The only people who’d ever wanted him wanted Zanis had been scaryworryingnervewracking, because that hadn’t made sense. And he’d been almost afraid those times, because how could he control something if he didn’t know what it would do next, if he didn’t have a clue what was going on in it’s head? But he had broken Kiba and abandoned Zix so it had all worked out, and nervousworriedanxious feelings had just faded away because no one wanted him anymore and everything made sense again. But…but he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t break Butter because Butter was perfect and it was a crime to break perfection, and he couldn’t just leave because…because it was Butter, how could he possibly leave Butter? Butter said it didn’t have to make sense, Butter didn’t know why he wanted Zanis but he did anyway, and how could he just leave that?
“I don’t understand,” he murmured in a puff of hot air, and something inside of him twinged as he watched even that blush the white skin a pale pink. Even if it wasn’t touch, even if it was just his breath, he hurt Butter burned Butter…and Butter still wanted him? How…how was that even possible? It didn’t make sense and that was nervousworryingannxious and how was he supposed to know what to do if it didn’t make sense? How…how could he possibly know?
The snake shuddered slightly, knowing Butter could feel the tiny convulsions sliding through his body but completely unable---or unwilling---to stop it. “I don’t understand what you’re thinking…” Butter made the most sense, out of anyone Butter made the most sense, but he made the least sense too. Because he wanted Zanis and that didn’t make sense. Even if Butter said it didn’t have to make sense, how could Zanis understand nonsensical things? Right now, this wasn’t so much about control as it was about understanding, and how could he understand if it didn’t make any sense?
How was he supposed to understand?
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Posted: Fri Jan 26, 2007 5:43 pm
"He is?" Elis asked, a somewhat wondering tone in his voice creeping on the edges hovering just there as the last syllable left his lips and as the mossy green eyes glanced over the pink bobbing head at the redheaded doctor. Wait, didn't Chou-chan before said something about potions? Medicine? Something or other liquidy sort of stuff making business anyway, the kind that burned bitterhotcold down his throat and it was so hard but they wanted him to take it and he just couldn't do anything else nothingelse..!
The wyvern stilled, just a slightslight tightening of his grip on Chou's handarmthing that could also just have been because of the restrictedfluttery hoppingskipping..thing.. that the faerie had just attempted, and Elis deliberately gave a half-gigglechucklelaughsomethingpleasedon'tnotnow and skiphopjumped himself, a horrible second after the pink experiment and resulting in a kind of ungainly stumble. "Saa, Armand! I didn't know you liked green people that much.."
A turn to the left here, past the door with blue stain --don't want to know what that is-- and it's close.. somewhere around here..eh? "I.. I don't!" The said doctor replied huffily, a rather taken-aback expression on his face as he glanced, startled, from staring ahead at the seemingly endless corridor to the two shorter experiments walking along beside him.
..well, maybe not walking, necessarily. Elis seemed to be in some sort of a serious leg-tangle.
Yamagawa slowed slightly, patiently waiting until the wyvern had sufficiently straight himself up into a relatively stable vertical position again, then set up ahead again. They simply just couldn't miss Elis' room. It was massive.
How else would you keep a wyvern fifteen-feet long? And he wasn't even half grown yet. A cell that could and would comfortably encase the entirety of the green experiment's form---forms, in whichever way that he preferred. A cell lined with live running electricity encased within industrial concrete walls that could fry entire herd of cows.Not that Elis had any record of ever seriously attempting to break out --yet, Yamagawa noted rather skeptically in his mind-- but just in case.
"Haaaai, are we theeeere yet?" Elis happily chirped after the pink faerie, doing a very good --but very unsuitable-- imitation of a doe-eyed pouty-lipped three year old. His eyes flew over at the flurrypuff of pinkglittery powder that dusted off Chou's butterfly wings, rather longingly and --he was completely oblivious to this-- wistfully after the dustpowder as it joined the other dustpowderglitterness to make pinkrainbowglitter pile on the floor.
Yamagawa sighed.
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Posted: Fri Jan 26, 2007 8:56 pm
And being Zix, all the deadly murderous urges coming off the assistant completely went over his head.
“What else could he have possibly meant?” he asked, sounding just a bit perplexed. He skipped back around the table, matches in hand. “Charlie said you should take me out. We should go. It’s not good to be stuck in one place for too long. People get grouchy and irritable if they’re stuck in one place all the time.” Not naming any names… “Hell, if I weren’t completely broke right now, I’d be willing to take you out. It would do you good.” He nodded to himself, like he had just made the most spectacular life-changing statement in the world.
What he was really saying, though, is that Tea would have to pay for him because he had no money. Still couldn’t find that paycheck he was supposed to get.
Humming the sort of annoying tune that would stay in your head for hours, Zix leaned over and pulled the Bunsen burner in front of him, carefulcarefulcareful not to brush up against Tea or touch Tea or even get too close to Tea, because if he did, then Tea would get mad, and Zix rather didn’t want Tea mad at him.
Well, beyond his annoyed I-hate-everything-about-you sort of madness. That was a fine sort of madness.
For a moment, Zix stared at the pile of papers in front of him, right where the burner needed to go. Couldn’t have firework around all that paper. Of course, the solution was easy. Just shove said stack off the desk, completely ignoring the deadly threat of Charlie’s complete and utter wrath. Kay, now that he was ankle-deep in papers, now he could light up.
And with a flick of his wrist, without even opening the box, there was a lighted match in his hand. One of those super cool special effects that he was never ever ever going to explain to anyone how he could do, but did anyway. Was great at parties, too, especially when the clientele was drunk engh and they would pay him for standing on his head if he could. Still humming brightly, he held the match over the burner, again without turning the burner on, and whooshed a pretty blue flame up. “Theeere you go!” he chirped, grinning over at Tea. “You kind of have to hold your glass over the fire to melt the ice, but we have tongs for when the glass gets too hot. I’ll go get them!” Brightbouncychipper as ever, he did a random shuffle-step across the floor to his cabinets.
Why a necromancer could do neat little tricks with fire, it was a little unclear, since fire wasn’t really all that suitable around all those dead corpses. And it was really rather useless if he didn’t have the matches --and other needed utensils-- at hand, but it was still a cool party tricks. Which he had employed quite a few times, at parties and funerals and the like when he was down on his luck and needed cash. Or food or clothes or whatever the people were willing to toss at him.
“Neeeeee, Teeeeeea, would you mind gloves instead? I can’t find the tongs.” He pulled out a pair of scuffed and ratty --but still workable-- leather gloves that looked like they wouldn’t last a day without falling apart, but were still, surprisingly, useable, and glanced over at the tanned assistant inquiringly. Cause if Tea didn’t want the gloves, that meant that Zix had to go find Charlie in the coldest depths of Hell and find out where the zombie put the tongs after using them for whatever reason he’d used them for, and that would just be a hassle because really, did no one else see that pen snap? It was so obvious Charlie was feeling snarky right now.
Like he’d said, it would be a hassle. If not incredibly dangerous for his health and well-being.
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Posted: Tue Jan 30, 2007 9:10 pm
Tea gritted his teeth slightly and felt the annoyingannoyedangryredredred light streak past his eyes in 'I'll-kill-you-and-you-and-you-and-even-your-own-mother-won't-recognize-you' sort of way.
Damn you, Zix. Damn you to the bottom of hell. Bottom of hell weighed down by balls of burning lava the size of houses and being annoyed and bitten constantly by snotty dirty little children --afflicted with a severe case of ADHD-- and bunch of whizzing insects. And not just limited to that, either. Tea probably wouldn't even be quite satisfied with something as measly as that.
"I said, I'm not 'taking you out' anywhere." The tanned assistant snapped rather testily, mouthlips set in hardcoldunapproving line as he warilyannoyedly watched the necromancer make his way over to his side of the desk, matches held in his hand. "I'm sure Charlie meant that he wanted you out of this room." And he wanted you out for ever. And for you to never ever come back.
Tea paused slightly at the next words though instead of just bulldozing over them and shatteringgrinding them to bits like he had previously been doing ever since he met the necromancer, eyesface carefulcarefully blank, carefuldarknothingconfusedwhat just almost almost thoughtful blinking darkness as he turned the pair of dark eyes towards the other male. He.. It...
It would do him good? It would do him good?!
The dark eyes blinked once, twice, and the shimmerflickersomething was out of them, replaced by the hotannoyed flicker of the usual 'I'll-sacrifice-your-intestines-to-the-vultures' look. Tea huffed slightly, stepping back with a light tap of shoes and slight swish of white gown as Zix leaned over, ignoring the slight pause and the whoosh as a stack of crinkly delicate papers went down in a heap at the flick of the other male's hand. "The only good that will ever possibly do to me will be the act of putting my self out of the sheer misery and boredom."
Blunt, but true. And Tea was quite far from being tactful at this point.
And then there was fire.
Despite himself and the frantic 'what-the-hell-are-you-doing' screamyellscreech inside his brain, Tea leant in ever-so-slightly towards the --how did he do that shimmeringfloating up in his head-- whooshflaringbrightbrightbright warm blue flame, forming a perfect candle-light gaslight shape as it rose up from the Bunsen burner. Towards the flame. And consequently, just because he was standing right next to the flamebunsenburnerthing, towards Zix.
That didn't last really long though, just long enough for the neuron-something-nerve-things in his brain to jumpstart from 'firefirefirefirefirefire' to <********> and Tea straightened up, taking a slight shufflething back while turning his head away from the flame. He blamed the rush of heat onto his face on the blue flamelightfirething. After all, wasn't blue flame meant to be hotter than the orange one? He shouldn't have gotten to close to it in the first place. Stupid Zix.
"Whichever. I don't care."
Stupid, stupid Zix.
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Posted: Tue Jan 30, 2007 11:36 pm
Chou giggled, somewhere in his throat, and glanced between Yamagawa-sama and Elis. Saa, it was all good and…and not bad anymore, wasn’t it? Oh yes, that was veryveryverymuchlyspectacularly good. That was like, superdupercelebration type good. Because there was no bad feelings or anything and when was that not good? Bad feelings were bad and not bad feelings were good, and it was all good and happy and just…good.
Feeling rather more giddy than he perhaps otherwise would have been, or at any point should have been, the pink faerie listed slightly towards Elis, giggling again as he did so. There was just…just something about the green experiment that was better than good and just…safe and it was nice and Chou liked it. He liked it a lot. And…and he didn’t mind stumbling slightly like that and almost falling and bringing them all three down, because he was still holding Elis’ hand and that was just all well and god and perfect, wasn’t it?
Not to mention the fact that he was feeling rather high from all the glittering he was doing. It normally wasn’t this much glittery goodness, so…all at once like this, there were probably adverse affects that happened when someone suddenly dropped this much glitter on the floor without any warning or prep time whatsoever. Probably a little similar to when normal not-faerie peoplepersonthings drank their nastysmellyyucky stuffness and got all loopy. Loopy and glittery and happy and just generally weird but still quite so very good.
He was just lucky it had taken this long to get drunkfeeling like this. He had no idea why it was good, but Yamagawa-sama had been worried about him, so it was yes it was good. It was also swirly and pretty and shiny and they would shimmer Elis’ room and it would be so pretty only not right now cause it was very glittery already floorswallsceilingpeople and so Elis would just have to wait for his shinyprettysparkly room---
Chou giggled again, the only otherwise outward sign he was feeling even the slightest bit giddy and drunk being that lurching sort of stagger he’d suddenly adopted. Oh, and if he tried to talk, he’d probably slur something, but that was a problem t be dealt with when he did talk. He just needed to recharge on a couple hours of sleep and then he’d be fine and shinyroommaking ready, but…but it was soveryyespretty right now, and everything was very happy and it was all so new. New and pretty andandand curiosity so he was excited and droppingsheddingspewing glitter everywhere.
And now he was humming some March of Something he’d made up on the spot, probably grinning rather insanely and most likely gaining a few wary-slash-worried-slash-curious looks. But that was okay. He’d explain it all later anyway. Later was such a good time, wasn’t it? Everything could be done later.
Chou giggled again.
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Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 7:50 pm
Butter blinked and tilted his head in a way which would have looked puzzled or confused or just plain 'I'm-not-getting-it' on anybody else but it just wasn't quite right something not quite that on the zombie, his handfingers the barest contact hoveringpaused still motionlessly on Zanis' skin, the touch in and out of contact with the slight shuddershaketrembling--but he couldn't tell; was it him or was it Zanis?
Why was he shaking?
Of course it had to be Butter; why would Zanis trembleshake because that was so wrong, the idea of it was so wrong because if you were tremblingshakingnotstill then you were angryscared and Zanis shouldn't be angryscaredwhatever he couldn't. Not by Butter.
Because if it wasn't Zanis, it was Butter, and even though it couldmaybepossibly have been Zanis shakingtrembling but why would he and it just wasn't right for Zanis to shaketremble even though Butter was deadcoldicy he knew he was cold because of course he was cold he wasdead and.. and Butter's so obviously too close to Zanis tooclose toomuch too much of everythingnothing everything baddeadcoldstrangeweirdcold and he was making Zanis tremblebeingcold.
And that meant that evenalthough Zanis just maybe possibly said that Butter was perfect, it was still wrong something was wrong and it just didn't make sense.
Butter was fine with things not making sense. He couldn't remember the last last last ever memory of ever being alive --it was an accident; he saw the crimsonjagged streak bursting behind his eyes, felt the burningblinding pain shoot through him againsthim-- nor the first firstest ever memory of ever being dead and alivenotalive mostly because it was so long time ago --he woke up and it was dark and it was colddampfreezingrefreshing and there was something stickydried something coating his armsfaceneckchest whatwasthat-- and what was left of his memory had huge dark gaping holes in them, moments stretched to eternity, periods of time that wasn't timedaysseconds just.. just dark.
With the only knowledge left in his mind that he was alive, or had been, but now wasn't. Yet still breathinglivingmovingfeeling and it didn't make sense it couldn't make any possible sense.
"You don't have to understand everything." It was his voice, Butter realized almost belatedly, but the words were out his mouth out his mind and they were even now hovering in the thin strip of air between them, the whitepale eyes flickering almost as if he could see the typedprinteddark wordsletters floating there. And besides, he had been going to say that, had been going to he was because Zanis didn't understand said he didn't understand didn't like notknowing and Butter had to let Zanis know.
He didn't know how, but.. but if they just satstoodstill here, if they kept still, if Butter could still feel Zanis, Zanis' heatburningwarmth glowering against his skin burningburnedpalepinkred and if he felt Zanis, then..
A slightest tiniest twitchjerk of muscle --completely involuntary, because just why would he ever want to move away from Zanis?-- shifting under the coldcolddead skin was the only movement as the doctor's armhand slid around wrapped around Butter's shoulder, the zombie leaning in to the touchfeelburnfire with a soft exhalesomething of breath.
"You don’t have to." Butter repeated, feeling almost sleepy with all the burningwarmthheatfeeling good surroundingenveloping him from all sides. He blinked, once, slowly, the eyelashes fluttering a little as a lock of his hair slid down to fall into his eyes, but it only lasted for a short while, not long enough to be any hindrance. His hand slid down Zanis' cheek, coming to rest lightlycoldlychilled on the base of the doctor's neck, fingers curled lightly perched on the crook of the neck. "All you need to know is just a few things, just to get you going."
It still hurt, Butter knew that. It still hurt like milliontiny pinpricks of heat spreading across his skin, tiny jabs puncturing his skin seeping into him and he knew that even right now his skin --so pale, so cold so dead-- was turningchangingburning pinkdarkred, because even though Zanis was colder --he was, somehow-- than other people, he was still alive.
But it didn't matter because Zanis was alive and Zanis was perfect. And perfection always lay with being warm, being alive being feeling and.. and Zanis being alive and perfect just made a whole lot more sense. Just like Butter being not perfect and dead made a whole lot much more sense too. Cold couldn't be perfect. Cold was just.. cold.
And being cold hurt more than being warm ever could be.
"You just have to go with it." The zombie all but sighedwhispered out the words, his eyes blinking again, taking longer and longer time to reachup openup again after they had closed. The other hand --knuckles brushing against Zanis' handarm burningblusingpinkred-- came to softly grip the fabric of the doctor's shirt, the limb shivertightening slightly with the zombie's next, slow breath. "Sometimes."
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Posted: Tue Feb 20, 2007 9:51 pm
“Haaaaaaaaai!” Zix turned back to the cabinets, pressing the gloves to his lips in some feeble attempt to push down the ecstatic grin that just rose up. He saaaaaw that! Even if Tea didn’t want him to, he saw it! And it was lovely and beautiful and probably completely misunderstood but he saw it! Saw it saw it saw it saw it and Zix would forever have happy little dreams about it because it was one small win for Zix, and in a tough cookie like Tea, Zix had to take whatever wins he could find, no matter how small. And he saaaaaaw it!
Tea leaned towards him.
Oh, for sure, he was probably leaning towards the flame, because it was damn cold in the morgue and flames were, by nature, hot. But…but it looked like he had been leaning towards Zix, even from Zix’s standpoint, and…that was good. That was veryverysoverymuchly good. It meant that somewhere, deep deep deep down, waaaaaaaaay deep down, maybe Tea didn’t totally hate Zix as much as he claimed he did. It might be veeeeeeeeeeeery deep down, past all the nasty bits that float at the bottoms of everyone’s soul, but it was in there somewhere.
And that was a good sign that should in no way be taken lightly. All it meant was that Zix would have to be extra patient with Tea and break him down slooooowly, until the Italian admitted it on his own. He really, somewhere inside, did like Zix. Oh, what a glorious day that would be.
Till trying to suppress the grin --and completely and utterly failing---the necromancer stood, turning to Tea. Something about his manner said that he was terribly guilty of something, though he hadn’t actually done anything at all. And no one could be guilty of things that were only in their head…
“Here you go,” he said brightly, stalking back over to the desk. Gloves for Tea, yesyesyes, so now Tea could take his aspirin-which-used-to-be-Zix’s and his head would feel better. Ooh, that was another sign, wasn’t it? Another small win for Zix. Tea took the pills, even though Zix had given them to him, which meant that even though they were Zix’s, he’d taken them anyway. So that was two wins for Zix. He was chugging right along on this whole break-Tea-down-until-he-admits-he-likes-me thing. Considering they’d known each other for less than a day, that was a good sign.
And if he really thought back on the day, he could probably very well figure out a bunch more other things he would count as small wins. And sure, maybe Tea was just leaning towards the fire, sure, maybe he just wanted the pills for his head, it still counted. And that was the most important thing, and that was all that mattered. They were small enough that they counted, because there probably weren’t going to be very many big wins. But probably a lot of big losses, in which case the little wins were all that much more important.
He paused for a moment at the desk, staring down at the floor, before pushing the gloves into Tea’s hands. All those papers on the floor…ohyes, those were his fault, weren’t they?” Just put the gloves on and hold the glass over the flame and it’ll be all good,” he advised, kneeling down to shuffle the papers into what could have been, with a bit of imagination, a pile. Charlie would be annoyed about this, wouldn’t he? Then again, Charlie was annoyed about everything, so why was this any different? Oh, he hoped Tea’s head felt better soon…maybe it would make Tea less grumpy, yes?
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Posted: Sun Feb 25, 2007 12:32 am
Tea gave the necromancer --or more rather the back of his head-- a long, calculatingwondering sort of stare as the other turned back to the cabinets, before the dark gaze sort of maybe trailedwondered its way back down to the bluehotprettywonderfully warm flame burning on the desk. Sure, it was warm, sure it was a good thing in all acounts considered in that a/ it melted the ice to get water for his aspirin and b/ it was warm, but..
But it still did not change the fact that it made Tea lean towards Zix.
Because Tea did not just so mean to do that. He didn't, no matter just how or what it looked like to Zix, Tea wasn't and Tea didn't so it didn't really matter what Zix could ever possibly think about that because Tea didn't mean to hadn'tmeantto.
The tanned assistant pursed his lips and glared down at the flame, which flickered and flared over the rather flimsy --and clunky-sort of looking-- Bunsen burner. Stupid flame. Stupid heat and stupid icycoldmorgueness and stupid Zix for bringing him here to feed his birds and stupid stupid even stupider Tea for following.
Okay. Correction, Tea was wrong.
Tea wasn't as stupid as Zix.
Which was really quite easy to be, considering that even amoeba would be --at least-- twice as smart and with about a hundred times more sense of self-preservation than the necromancer.
But at that moment, he felt pretty much like when normal people just woke up at 3 in the morning by angry hoard of elephants blasting through your bedroom and reducing everything to crumbled up mess; ungainly, disorientated and stupid.
Which justified the particularly nastydarkI-will-kill-you glare that Tea shot Zix when the other male turned around, grinning his face off. His whole stance, from the way Zix stood to the way he grinned -- I so know something that you don't -- it was simply oozing with smug knowingnotknowingness and just.. just pure smugness and Tea somehow didn't like it one bit.
The Italian's expression tightened and he crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to suppress the odd, nagging nasty feeling at the back of his head that wasn't just because of his headache. This sucked. Not only did he have a headache --which added even more to the whole general problem because that was the reason that Tea was here in the first place, that and the damn aspirin and the birds-- but now he had a definite nagging sensationpressure too and it was getting uncomfortable and Tea did not like feeling uncomfortable, ever.
He had to take the gloves though, which meant voluntarily stepping out of that defensive-annoyed-don't-talk-to-me look that he had been going on and that made the assistant frown slightly, the corner of his lips twisting a little. Now... Ah, yes.
Tea let out an inaudible sigh as he slipped the gloves on, gaze turning to briefly assess the blue flame and the figure of the necromancer vaguely 'tidying up' beyond it.
Water.
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Posted: Fri Mar 02, 2007 6:27 pm
Elis gave only a moment's curiouswondering glance at the giggle, but paid no more attention to it than you would at a banana being yellow. After all, why would he? Chou was pinkshinycuteglittery and pinkshinyglittery people were happy, and so it wasn't reeeally a big deal if Chou --being reeeallyreallyreally glittershinypinkcutehappy were really happy, and.. and if you were happy, then there was nothing wrong with you for giggling.
So what the green wyvern did was simply lean towards Chou when he came closer, because a/ Chou was warm and Elis liked warm people, b/ it was bad to lean away when the other person was leaning in because then the person could fall down and it would be bad because it would hurt to fall, and c/ because it wasChou.
The green eyes drifted down a moment to eye the huge chunkpuff of glitter landing down onto his own arm, somehow managing to get stuck onover the skin like a very big, very shinyglittery mass of sticker tattoothing that he used to do when he was littletinyyoung --..younger, anyway-- and the nice scientistpeople who used to be here when he was little used to give them to him --not Armand; he was still littleyoung too young too.. too something-- and.. and it had been fun to watch it stuck to his skin for days afterwards --almost a week, if he was careful-- and this was almost just like that.
But more glittershinyfun.
One, two, three...
The redheaded doctor glanced down, past the pink bobbingfluffy head of the fairie and the dark, slightly taller head of the wyvern to survey the walldoors on the other side of the corridor that they were walking on currently. Reinforced, hardscratchy concrete walls, not like the normal smoothgrey ones around the other parts of Metamorphoses.
That was always a good sign. If you were looking for Elis' room, of course.
It was amazing how long Elis lived in this institution, yet knew --or chose not to know-- so little about his surroundings. Maybe it just came with having a longer lifespan than most. In fact, not even being remotedly human, maybe wyverns sensed directions in a different way to humans.
That still didn't explain how Elis could be so stupid with maps. Sometimes, Armand thought that he had the sense of direction of a slug. Maybe worse. At least slugs moved.
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Posted: Fri Mar 02, 2007 8:07 pm
Zanis chuckled sourly, but didn’t release his hold on Butter. He’d never ever ever let go of Butter if he could help it, not if his goddamned life depended on it. He still wasn’t sure quite what he was feeling, or even why he wanted to feel anything like this, but he knew that he needed Butter and Butter didn’t mind him touching, so that meant, in a strange, roundabout way, that he could stay with Butter and keep Butter and everything would be fine. Even if he didn’t understand, everything would be alright. Just like Butter said, all he needed was a few things to get him going.
That was actually a good idea, if he thought about it.
But he didn’t like it, not one bit. Because if Zanis didn’t understand, if he didn’t know, then it was out of his control. And if he let things get out of his control, then it simply was out of his hands and he didn’t have control anymore. And that might have been fine for some people, but it wasn’t fine for Zanis. He had to have control, he had to, no matter what happened. If he had control over the situation, then it would all be fine.
And here Butter was, saying that it was alright if he didn’t understand, and that he could get by with just a few things and everything would be fine if he just went with it. Like…like water or something. But Zanis didn’t like that either. He wasn’t a watery type. He was the dam that controlled where the water went, not the actual water himself. How could he just go with it? It wouldn’t work. It just…it wouldn’t work right. How could it?
Vaguely, the snake felt the chilledcoldnice touchbrush of Butter’s hand on his cheekbaseofhisneck, and he was aware of the grip on his shirt and the faint blushfloodpink of Butter’s knuckles as the zombie’s hand brushed his arm faintlightbarelytheretouch. And it was alright, that bit was fine, because Butter was perfect so the things he did were perfect. It was everything else that was unperfect and uncertain so he had to take control of thpse things.
With this thinking, it was probably okay if he didn’t understand Butter, because Butter was perfect so it would be fine.
But a part of him didn’t like that answer at all.
And another part that was completely unconcerned with the battle currently raging on in his head was getting increasingly worried --even if he didn’t know that was what he was feeling-- about the sluggish sort of way Butter was fading off like that. It probably wasn’t a good thing at all and Zanis wasn’t worried, not at all nope, he was just maybe feeling a twinge that maybe that shouldn’t be happening.
And the worst part was that he had no idea what was going on, which meant he also had no idea how to fix it and what if something happened to Butter ohgodpleasseno don’t let anything happen to him. Ohgod, what if something bad was happening to Butter because Zanis was too hot and he kept touching the zombie? Then it would be totally his fault that Butter was actingweirdfadingoffstrange like that, and that would be bad. Oh, that would be so very bad.
He wasn’t even quite totally sure just why it would be bad, just that if something happened to Butter and it was Zanis’ fault, then it would be very very bad so very bad. And if it was him if he was too hot, then he should back away or something so Butter could cool down and not be so hot and everything would be better.
The doctor let out a breath, a shaky exhalation of air that seeped through his closed teeth and had just the faintest hint of a hiss. “Maybe I should try and patch up your wrist again…” He really didn’t want to, but if he was doing something bad to Butter by being so close, then he wanted to stop doing that and make Butter…actually…better. Rare as the idea was, he actually, for once, wanted to fix someone up instead of break them down.
The snake glanced down at the brokensnapped wrist. Well, at least the bleeding had stopped. Strange, really. Who knew that zombies could clot? Or whatever it was they did so the bleeding stopped. Then again, what did he know about zombies? That was the idiot’s expertise, and he wasn’t going to think about the damned man because things just went to hell when Zix was involved, and Zanis would keep Butter no matter was he had to do.
He wasn’t quite sure what he had to give up to keep Butter, but he’d work it out later. And when he did, he would keep Butter, no questions asked.
Very reluctantly, the snake pulled back eversoslightly from the zombie, pausing when he felt Butter’s grip on his shirt again. He didn’t want to move away, but…but he was doing bad things to Butter hurting Butter and he didn’t want to do that… And Butter said strange things…
”You just have to go with it.”
It really wasn’t that simple. It might have been kind of nice if it were that simple, but Zanis didn’t know if he could do that. And, honestly, he didn’t know if he wanted to try. Just going with it was totally out of his control, and things that were out of his control made him nervous. Hadn’t he told himself this before? Probably. But if he kept saying it to himself, then he was convincing himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t just ‘go with it’. And if he could convince himself not to do it, then he could also convince himself not to give in to Butter’s words and ignore them completely.
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