(Note: we allowed each other mutual control of our characters. There is no godmodding here, y'all. We're thinking of going down to argentina to study protoceratops fossils but we decided against it because they were discount triceratopses. Like the covenant between Don and Betty Draper, we're cooperating here - But our marriage is built on a hollow bed of superficiality and deep-seated personal issues.)
8th Vhalar 717
“Stark, I’m just saying that you have had it easy.” Zipper said.
Robin smiled a tired smile. “Right, OK. You wanna explain that or?”
“Necromancers are simple creatures to understand. ‘Mum! They’re not using their bodies anymore, why can’t I puppet them around.’” Zipper said, doing a surprisingly good imitation of a whining child. Then again, she seem to be having a lot of practice even into adulthood. “‘Mum, I want immortality! ‘Mum, the abstractions of morality are beyond a necromancy! Good and evil are the bywords of the weak and the stupid! The only real law to be broken is death and those who seek to uphold the obsolete foundations of cruel mortality’ Their tenets are simple, Stark. You’ll have to try really hard to screw that one up. I wish I had a necromancer sister. Would be fuckin’ simple.”
His smile wore into a lopsided smirk, “ have met your brother, you remember? He’s a good kid and you can’t make sweeping generalizations --,” his arms moved widely for emphasize, “like that. A kid bullied Felicia once, you know? Then she dug up his mother’s grave and ran her body over town to terrorize him.”
It occurred to him that he had never seen Fiona Zippomaria O’Connor laugh before.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to again.
It was the most terrifying sound he had ever heard. It sliced through the warmth of the day like a steel sword through butter. It was wild, a little deranged, and most disturbing was the most genuine bit of passion he had seen from her. He lingered on her sound, a moth to the flame; the only thing keeping him from it the fact that it would burn him black.
“See? She solves her own problems. Finn just makes them and leaves me to clean up the mess. I would describe such behaviour as the biggest cuntery that ever cunted.”
“It didn’t solve anything. We had to move..
“I say it was worth it. Big move for a little girl. I like it.”
He rolled his eyes, a smile threatening to break his tired façade. “Packing is never worth it.”
“Of course not, you disorganized excuse for a mage. You know what her mistake was? Getting caught. And a bit more finesse to the execution, I suppose. Should have built up more to the climax a bit, but it’s mostly a problem of discretion. She must be one terrible cunt today, yeah?”
He shrugged, before changing the topic. Zipper didn’t need to know he hadn’t spoken to Felicia in a few seasons. “And your problem with Finn is…? I didn’t see any difference between them; I mean, Finn doesn’t have magic, but he could be a terror, too. Is that what you want?” He asked, his tone colored confused.
“What I want is some responsibility. Your sister learned discretion eventually, I gather, given that she isn’t the late Felicia Stark-”
“I never told you her name.”
There was a pause.
Oops. She forgot that, her diligently consistent insults aside, he wasn’t really all that much of an idiot.
“I have maaaaagic.” Zipper made the most unenthusiastic one-handed spooky gesture he had ever seen. Her inability to even properly do them was a mockery on its own. “I use my maaaaaagic to see into your heart.”
“Not an answer,” Robin said, the wind picking up his interest. It flowered between them, cold and stiff. It coddled them, cradling in a constant breeze. They were both waiting for an answer.
“You said it in your sleep. By the way? You snore. Loudly. Should get it checked out.”
He continue staring. The wind rose a bit, threatening to become the beginning of a gale.
“I belong to an immortal now, Stark. He -or she- whispers sweet nothings into my ear. Told me all about you and your family and the ancestral pigs that begotted them.”
Now the gale was here. It swept around and about them, their clothes ruffling in the thrall of its power.
“You gonna fight for this, Stark? You won’t like where it goes.”
The gale broke in his frustration. “No wonder Finn fucking hates you,” he whispered, the wind stealing his words and freezing them. They echoed in the space between them, over and over and over. The wind wanted her to hear them. It bristled at her ears, his words it’s only weapon.
Zipper didn’t respond to that immediately. Her expression said nothing. She looked around. There were a few people on the street and - why was she even pretending to care that there were witnesses for this? She pressed her left hand up to cup Robin’s chin, a veiled, weirdly tender gesture that he clearly couldn’t interpret. She looked into his eyes and leaned in. He expected violence, certainly, but this was-
The other hand came in on as a great, tight slap to the face just as the first one began Absorbing ether, touching the part of his soul where the spark lay, keeping what she now knew to be the defensive Guardian spell of Defiance at bay.
Keeping his stupid hold over the elements back inside the spark where they belonged.
8th Vhalar 717
“Stark, I’m just saying that you have had it easy.” Zipper said.
Robin smiled a tired smile. “Right, OK. You wanna explain that or?”
“Necromancers are simple creatures to understand. ‘Mum! They’re not using their bodies anymore, why can’t I puppet them around.’” Zipper said, doing a surprisingly good imitation of a whining child. Then again, she seem to be having a lot of practice even into adulthood. “‘Mum, I want immortality! ‘Mum, the abstractions of morality are beyond a necromancy! Good and evil are the bywords of the weak and the stupid! The only real law to be broken is death and those who seek to uphold the obsolete foundations of cruel mortality’ Their tenets are simple, Stark. You’ll have to try really hard to screw that one up. I wish I had a necromancer sister. Would be fuckin’ simple.”
His smile wore into a lopsided smirk, “ have met your brother, you remember? He’s a good kid and you can’t make sweeping generalizations --,” his arms moved widely for emphasize, “like that. A kid bullied Felicia once, you know? Then she dug up his mother’s grave and ran her body over town to terrorize him.”
It occurred to him that he had never seen Fiona Zippomaria O’Connor laugh before.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to again.
It was the most terrifying sound he had ever heard. It sliced through the warmth of the day like a steel sword through butter. It was wild, a little deranged, and most disturbing was the most genuine bit of passion he had seen from her. He lingered on her sound, a moth to the flame; the only thing keeping him from it the fact that it would burn him black.
“See? She solves her own problems. Finn just makes them and leaves me to clean up the mess. I would describe such behaviour as the biggest cuntery that ever cunted.”
“It didn’t solve anything. We had to move..
“I say it was worth it. Big move for a little girl. I like it.”
He rolled his eyes, a smile threatening to break his tired façade. “Packing is never worth it.”
“Of course not, you disorganized excuse for a mage. You know what her mistake was? Getting caught. And a bit more finesse to the execution, I suppose. Should have built up more to the climax a bit, but it’s mostly a problem of discretion. She must be one terrible cunt today, yeah?”
He shrugged, before changing the topic. Zipper didn’t need to know he hadn’t spoken to Felicia in a few seasons. “And your problem with Finn is…? I didn’t see any difference between them; I mean, Finn doesn’t have magic, but he could be a terror, too. Is that what you want?” He asked, his tone colored confused.
“What I want is some responsibility. Your sister learned discretion eventually, I gather, given that she isn’t the late Felicia Stark-”
“I never told you her name.”
There was a pause.
Oops. She forgot that, her diligently consistent insults aside, he wasn’t really all that much of an idiot.
“I have maaaaagic.” Zipper made the most unenthusiastic one-handed spooky gesture he had ever seen. Her inability to even properly do them was a mockery on its own. “I use my maaaaaagic to see into your heart.”
“Not an answer,” Robin said, the wind picking up his interest. It flowered between them, cold and stiff. It coddled them, cradling in a constant breeze. They were both waiting for an answer.
“You said it in your sleep. By the way? You snore. Loudly. Should get it checked out.”
He continue staring. The wind rose a bit, threatening to become the beginning of a gale.
“I belong to an immortal now, Stark. He -or she- whispers sweet nothings into my ear. Told me all about you and your family and the ancestral pigs that begotted them.”
Now the gale was here. It swept around and about them, their clothes ruffling in the thrall of its power.
“You gonna fight for this, Stark? You won’t like where it goes.”
The gale broke in his frustration. “No wonder Finn fucking hates you,” he whispered, the wind stealing his words and freezing them. They echoed in the space between them, over and over and over. The wind wanted her to hear them. It bristled at her ears, his words it’s only weapon.
Zipper didn’t respond to that immediately. Her expression said nothing. She looked around. There were a few people on the street and - why was she even pretending to care that there were witnesses for this? She pressed her left hand up to cup Robin’s chin, a veiled, weirdly tender gesture that he clearly couldn’t interpret. She looked into his eyes and leaned in. He expected violence, certainly, but this was-
The other hand came in on as a great, tight slap to the face just as the first one began Absorbing ether, touching the part of his soul where the spark lay, keeping what she now knew to be the defensive Guardian spell of Defiance at bay.
Keeping his stupid hold over the elements back inside the spark where they belonged.
