Immortal Resistance [roomies]

[Ambrose]

There was a good reason he had missed the New Year's event. A very good reason.
Candidate--? You still there?
They hadn't allowed him out the door.

The logic was simple: They had wanted him involved in the shenanigans-- mistletoe, gift exchange, the works. Disaster had been compliant of his own will (why was he here?), so that lead Them to have ideas about Chaos himself. He refused at every turn, though. And, They had responded. No play, no event. No chance of seeing Metis.

They had responded with volume, a unified temper tantrum. He could hardly move with such clutter, bearing barely the strength to stand. It was a message: refused something again, and this will be the result. They literally told him the message just in case it wasn't clear. They had not counted on the candidate's own response, though.

I'm never playing again.
Since, he had refused any and all compliance. He didn't have to venture outside: he had no need of food or other mortal functions. The very admittance to such things was curious, but Ambrose payed no heed to it. He was mad. He was rebelling. He was going to use what he had despite its very existence paining him so. Call it a snap, a disappearance of usual dignity-- he didn't give a damn.

Metis. They made him miss Metis.

And so, for the days during and after the party, Ambrose had lied on his matress-less bed and done nothing. He left his eyes open but did not care to observe; his limbs were at his side but did not rise. He was actionless, the dullest he could be. All out of a white rage for the Powers That Be. Nothing with a purpose.

[Rein]

So, they had been given new rooms. Rein hadn't really been in the loop, never sleeping so never really in his old room. Owen had had the room for the most part. Learning he had a new room assignment, and therefor roommate, was...interesting.

He figured that he should, at some point, at least go introduce himself. So that was what he found himself doing now. He wandered about the dorm for a bit before finding the correct door, and now that had found himself in front of it, he was nervous. It was silly, he was never in a bedroom much anyway, he didn't have to come back here if his roommate and he didn't get alone asides for a change of clothes and such. But, well, he really should like it if they could be friends.

Gathering his courage, he knocked on the door, despite it technically being his room as well.

[Ambrose]

There was a knock on the door. The sound echoed slightly and, inevitably, filled Ambrose's unwilling eardrums. They heard it, too, of course.

Someone's at the door! They shouted eagerly at him, nearly to tears at such a distraction. Finally, some decent entertainment! Go answer it, Candidate! There was no way he was going to miss such a call, was there? Go on!

Ambrose continued to stare at the blank ceiling, determined in his silence.
L-look! one pronounced in joy. I think his eyes narrowed!

But, nothing more. Although his own interest was peaked at such a visitor, if the boy answered, then his so-termed 'strike' and all the effort before this moment would be lost. They needed to realize who was in charge. They needed to realize who had the power here.

His hair flickered bright red but quickly subsided back. No other change was witnessed.

[Rein]

There was no an answer and Rein hesitated. Was his roommate out..? Were they just busy? He didn't want to just intrude... he didn't feel as if it were his room yet...But it was. He had to remind himself that. It would be more odd to treat the room as simply entirely someone else's, otherwise he would feel awkward keeping even his stuff there.

He tried the handle, and found it unlocked. Taking a breath, Rein entered the room and closed it behind him. He walked in, noting that there didn't seem to be anyone here, and also that his stuff seemed to have been moved in as well. There was a standard bed, a desk with lots of books, journals and papers stacked neatly on top, and a dresser. In which, actually, Jim was currently hidden away in the bottom drawer. His familiar feel was instant to Rein, and the skull's eyes on top of the desk lit in a silvery lilac in response. The boy looked around and noted other's possessions in the room as well. On the scan, Rein's eyes landed on a rather large spider on the bed of his roommate and jumped slightly. It wasn't that Rein was scared of spiders, hardly, but it was the sheer size of this one that put him on edge.

"Sheez, okay, roommate has a pet... Noted." He eyed it warily. It certainly looked dangerous, but it also seemed to be on its back. He wondered idly if it were okay, and took a few hesitant steps towards it, raising an eyebrow.

[Ambrose]

The problem only deepened with every shout They gave, the newcomer's appearance praised to no end. Ambrose could not even see what was now the height of all conversation. First-impressions of the roommate were critical: Ooo, girly-man.
DID I JUST SEE FLOATING PURPLE? screamed another, nearly making Ambrose flinch. Nearly. It was their later laughter, though, that finally gained a long-coveted reaction. PET. YOU'RE A PET, ENTROPY--!

Anger piled onto anger. His previous rage had been simmering; it was controlled yet steady. This new wave threatened to send the boy into a fit, Chaos or no Chaos. It was ridiculous, he knew; name-calling was not the worst They could do, merely the beginning. He had been so high-strung as of late, however, that the actual trigger hardly seemed to matter much, only that such a thing existed. And, with someone else attempting interaction, it was inevitable.

As the newcomer approached, the boy blinked. The conflict was not over, but the strike was; Their collective cheers were on the verge of deafening. A slip-up was all it was, though, as Ambrose refused to do any more. Let the newcomer come; let him lift him up or even torture the 'spider.' He had to remain strong. He had missed Metis-- there was nothing to be done about that now, he knew. Such a loss would not be ignored or tolerated, though; that was the needed message. And, send it he would.

[Rein]

It didn't seem to be moving. At all. He'd have thought it dead if he only he could have felt it as a body viable to his power. Perhaps it was nearly dead?

Rein wasn't sure he should approach it, but he did anyway, curiosity too great to ignore. The boy leaned over the bed, hair slipping over his shoulder. A thin finger brushed it back to tuck it behind an ear as he studied the creature. A small thoughtful hum made it from his throat. It was an interesting specimen, surely. But...he still couldn't tell if it were poisonous, or even able to bite him at this point. Then, he figured it probably didn't matter anyway. It'd hurt probably, but it wouldn't - couldn't - be fatal.

Holding this logic, Rein reached out with single, curious finger to poke the spider's middle. He wasn't sure he could really call it a stomach, not knowing too much about spider anatomy. 'Too much' being read 'any'. The poke was not harsh, but very soft and gentle, delicate even. He just wanted to see if it would respond.

[Ambrose]

With the lean was the boy's first look at the supposed roommate. And, They were right: girly-man. He desperately needed a haircut . . .

The finger was unwelcomed, for obvious reasons. If it met, then a response was demanded, a response that he was determined not to give. The finger seemed looming, as well, overwhelming to him and on the verge of threatening. Uncontrollable panic spread through him. Damn perception. Damn the witch, while he was at it.

The Powers, all the while, waited anxiously for impact.
Boop him! BOOP HIM! The chant went through hundreds of Their ranks.
Oh, this is the best interaction in WEEKS—more popcorn?
Yes, please. And, the smell of butter filled Ambrose's nostrils. More things to deter him from nothing.

The boy allowed a breath, enough to gain his wits but not enough to be viewed by Them. Bracing for impact. Slowly but surely, the finger pressed against him, not hard but certainly not gentle for someone/thing 'his size.' Uncomfortable, but not harmful. Or, so he thought-- he was technically 'not human' anymore.

His body involuntarily twitched at the touch of his chest, sending leaps of joy throughout Up There and spassums of rage in Their candidate. He moved--! And, the miracles didn't stop there. His four limbs curled up towards his chest, all eight in anyone else's view. Such a involuntary motion-- he felt violated.

[Rein]

A single eyebrow was raised at the little- okay, huge - spider's reaction. Which, was to say, was not really a reaction at all. It had barely seemed to register the small touch, though the curling of its legs was rather interesting. Rein hummed and withdrew his hand. He paused a moment, still watching the creature for any other movements when he had a thought. The boy straightened and quickly returned to his desk, shuffling through papers. A small noise of triumph came upon the production of a large journal, worn with use if not age. The clatter of writing utensils was loud in the room and Rein returned to the bed with book and pencil in hand.

The Lijk scooted up onto the bed frame just enough to be comfortable and opened the journal upon his leg, braced in his left arm. Dutifully, the boy started sketching into the blank page, occasionally glancing up at the spider on the bed before looking back down into the book and making adjustments to his sketch. Somewhere along the way, he started humming a small tune.

[Ambrose]

The boy's legs uncurled slowly as the newcomer walked away; They all the while were giggling like the mad men they were. What a funny pose! What a hilarious turn of events! All the while, Ambrose's insecurity of the situation grew. He knew the curse affected 'appearance,' but 'reaction'? His own actions were being manipulated now-- even They could not claim such power. His eyes widened at the return of the boy, remaining deathly still. Who knew what the girly-man would do next--?

He's capturing your likeness quite well, one of Them commented with a snicker.
Further demotion-- from 'pet' to 'research subject'. At least the man was keeping his distance all the while. Being studied was not uncomfortable, either; he had been underneath the magnify glass for over a century. He could withstand a small sketch session if that's what it took to be left alone. Eventually, the boy even relaxed, his tensed legs and arms loosening. Although not noticeable in his perceived human forme, the spider forme was much more sensitive to such changes, his legs seeming to flop onto the bed with a satisfied sigh.

[Rein]

He wasn't an artist, didn't pretend to be. He was, however, decent enough to get out diagrams. Besides, he still liked trying to draw. It caught his attention when suddenly the spider went slack and he glanced up. Frowning, Rein watched it carefully.

"You better not die with just me in here." He as talking to a spider, yes. But, being a necromancer, it just wouldn't be good if he were the only one present when his roommate's beloved pet up and died. Looking back down to his book, Rein sighed and closed it. Rising, the boy plopped it down on the top of the stack on his desk and crossed to his dresser.

Kneeling, he pulled open the bottom drawer and went about removing the skeleton within piece by piece to place in a pile just behind him.

[Ambrose]

He's DISPLEASED, Candidate, They teased, not knowing what the girly-man saw but liking the action nevertheless. Better not die~ Which was ridiculous enough for its own set of laughter; Entropy couldn't die! How silly.

Ambrose, all the while, more and more wanted to make his own observations. It was strange; the boy was treating him well enough despite being seen as a large tarantula. Being stuck in such a perception was eerie, yes, but that there was no swinging purse aim towards him yet was nearly reassuring. One could lean such absent violence towards kindness.

They were ooo-ing with the new set of sounds, an odd clack threatening on a label. Counting on most of Their eyes to be focused on the newcomer and not himself, Ambrose turned his head ever-so slightly to get a proper view of the roommate. It was difficult-- his neck was stiff, his eyes unable to focus completely-- but manageable with creative placement of the body. By the end of the long movement, the boy-spider on the bed was facing Rein with unblinking eyes, watching with a refusing smirk at the curious action. Bones; there was not a sound as familiar as that to the common human. The 'why' remained to be seen, but seen it would.

(( I feel the need to apologize for Ambrose's inaction thus far. > >;;; ))

[Rein]

Unaware of all the attention, Rein retrieved all the bones from the drawer, making sure to double check the little ones. When he was positive that all were accounted for, the boy stood and stepped over the lied before facing it, giving himself more room. He raised a hand to extend his fingers towards the space directly over the bones and, with a flash silver lilac eyes, with snatched it back as if trying to catch a fly in the air. As if reflecting the light, little threads of the same silver seemed to have been caught up and tugged on the pile. With a clatter they leaped, dragged towards Rein a short distance before asserting themselves, pulled together by puppeteer strings. Before the boy then stood an assembled, headless, skeleton.

Rein grinned and bounced lightly towards him desk to retrieve the skull before returning in much the same giddy manner to place it on top. His expression was rather like that of a child's who just got to put the star of the Christmas tree. He chuckled, patted the skull, and backed away from it still beaming.

The skeleton rocked, seemingly slightly unsteady. It's jaw opened slowly before clicking shut, it repeated the action once more before turning to face Rein's desk, lumbering over, and starting to shuffle the books around. Apparently, it was going to organize and clean. Or at least try to.

(It's fine, it's still interesting xD I like Them)

[Ambrose]

Ambrose watched in near-awe as his roommate counted up the bones just like he would with his coins. He knew every ridge just as this other boy knew how the skeleton was to be assembled. And then, the lilac strings-- his feelings finally crested into admiration. This . . . This was beyond Them. One who made the bones dance to his will-- nothing was impossible, especially within the castle's walls, but such abilities were stretching even those loose limits. Without the proper guard of before, his previously hushed thoughts slipped out automatically: A necromancer . . .

They didn't notice the mental voice, though. They were all too horrified.
A necromancer--! One who would defy Fatality!
Such an ability was impossible, but there it was. There it was in all of its gore.

The boy-spider continued his viewing, a proper grin finally coming to his face only to be seen on his spider forme as extending his furred fangs. Grin and fang alike seemed like viable threats. The actions could not be interpreted more wrongly; it was respect. He was beginning to remember just how much the castle had to offer-- and, how it could surprise.

[Rein]

Rein watched as a proud parent might, tilting his head and making a cooing sound as if to admire how just Jim was. Well, while the skeleton was doing that, the boy glanced around. He wanted to wait for his roommate, but what was there to be done in the room?

Slowly, he turned, expression blank and just observing. Consequently, his gaze did eventually land upon the spider once again, which was really the most interesting thing in the immediate area by far. And though Rein told himself that it was his roommate's pet and he should not bother it without permission, it seemed that he was able to lock eyes with it. Wait, had it moved? Eyes, before a dull glowing lilac, where bright and silvery, charged with the exercise of necromancy in progress. The boy tilted his head, staring thoughtfully at the creature. It looked...well he didn't know if spiders had the same expressions.

Eventually, his weight shifted and slowly Rein strolled back over towards the bed. Behind him, Jim still shuffled away through the papers and books, attempting to pick a large one up to move it...elsewhere apparently. Rein, hesitantly - but eventually with confidence, leaned over to scoop up the spider gently. He treated the action as if the eight-legged creature was extremely delicate, as if it were dry old bones he knew would turn to dust at the slightest provocation.

[Ambrose]

Such cooing sounds were grating, forcing the prior admiration to falter but not fade completely. A necromancer was still amazing despite appearances and affectionate noises. That he was so comfortable with the walking dead was impressive enough.

The roommate turned, his change in eye color striking. Ambrose squinted slightly just to make sure he wasn't tricked by the lighting, following the head movements all the while. A tilt of the head, the straightening back . . . By now, They had realized his strike was over and were celebrating with Their mocking hoots and hollers. Their noise ceased to matter, however, as the hands began to loom over him once more. No. His limbs began to squirm-- again, out of his control; again, by the curse's will, NOT his own. He was unable to get up despite all efforts; the spider body was twisted just so, unallowing for any such movement.

The necromancer's grip was not rough, but the idea that Ambrose was being picked up by someone was disturbing. Their laughter began to cascade down-- it seemed to Them and Their candidate that the girly-man was able to pick up the boy in the palm of his hands. With wide eyes and a flushed face, Ambrose finally had enough.

"My name is AMBROSE," he finally declared.

[Rein]

The spider seemed to suddenly come very much alive from its previous subdued state, and Rein tried very much to be careful when it started squirming, hesitant, as he'd prefer not to bitten. He raised it in the air just a small bit, to his chest level, before what the spider had said registered.

Wait.. What the spider said? It spoke? The spider's name was Ambrose...apparently. Should he be surprised? Rein blinked. The most curious thing happened though, that when he was looking again - at the spider named Ambrose - there was not a spider present at all. Rather, a full sized boy. A boy really much heavier than the spider he was prepared to hold the weight of. Not really registering this all fast enough, as it was not but a second from recognition to the change, that Rein's brain was simply not providing enough arm strength. If he had enough to begin with.

He made a squeaked noise in surprise as the sudden weight collapsed his arms, falling forward onto the bed underneath the spider-turned boy. Out of balance, long hair cascaded forward as surprised face fell straight towards stomach.

[Ambrose]

Oh, so many things to watch now! It made Them so happy, a small group burst spontaneously into song:
London Bridge is falling down / falling down / falling down . . .
I always thought it was TOWER Bridge, one frowned before continuing on his popcorn.

He was now viewed as a human-- good. Not so good was the fall; it was expected, yes, but not with the girly-man's added stumble. The squeak didn't help, either. Unable to prevent the fall, both boys landed with a resounding thud on the near-bare bed, the metal frame and thin sheet on top cushioning Ambrose as best as they could. A resounding KLAAAAANG went through the room at the impact, the red-haired boy's eyes widening at the pain but not saying a single word. No. He was NOT going to please them any more than he already had.

The compromising position the two found themselves in-- Ambrose resting against the bed frame, his roommate's head landing on his chest and long hair unfurling everywhere-- was much easier to shrug off. His face remained a cool neutral; it was a bit of a hard landing, but nothing more. The boy waited a few moments before glancing down and asking the obvious question:

"Your name?"

[Rein]

Ow. Rein let his legs bend, knees not quite hitting the floor, hips too far from the edge of the metal frame. His arms were not happy. He had realized that the bed was thin and hard, yes, but it had just now been painfully reiterated. For now, he just kind of stayed still till the sharp pangs in his arms had numbed. There was a pause, and then the unexpected voice had the tall boy flinching slightly.

Lifting his head from the other's chest, Rein's bright eyes found Ambrose's, and he blinked. The question took a moment to process, but when it did, the lijk couldn't help the small embarrassed blush.

"Uhm, Rein, just...call me Rein." He would have gotten up, but as it were, his arms were trapped beneath the other. Not exactly sure what to do now, the boy just let the awkward moment hang.

"Nice to meet you."

Ah, and now it was just more awkward. 'Stupid, Rein, stupid.'

[Ambrose]

Aww, the girly-man's blushing!
Call in the shippers! screamed another with glee. They'll eat this right up!
Call for 'them' YOURSELF, replied a third, and soon Their chatter was filled of arguments. The raise in volume made Ambrose's ears ring, but he ignored it as best as he could.

Shut up, he scolded Them mentally, soon scolding himself for thinking such things. At least it wasn't out loud. He was better than this, though. Was. He raised his arms up all the while in a classic pseudo-surrender, allowing the girly-man to pull back. He didn't care either way; being with Them had numbed most normal reactions towards physical touch.

"Nice to meet you, too," the boy somehow managed back, continuing to stare at the roommate. It was an odd return but truthful as all of his words were. Despite the awkwardness of their encounter, he had not regretted meeting him. He had regretted the means.

He considered his words, the boy's eyes glancing up at the skeleton. "How . . . are you doing that?" Ten words; that was his limit with Their continued screams. He needed to know, though.

[Rein]

Lilac eyes flicked over the raised hands. Oh, okay...he'd just...uhm...he then looked over their predicament. The other boy was on the bed...well...frame, his arms where underneath, as consequence of having been holding the spider - I told myself I shouldn't bother the spider! - and now it was time to detangle themselves in the least awkward way possible. Okay, he could do that...just...he tried to scoot his arms out without jostling the body on top.

The other speaking again gave him pause, and he looked back to his roommate's face. He gave a kind smile, glad that the other was...at least not angry. Perhaps even pleased to meet him despite this...all. Oh, and he had wanted to make a good impression too. At the next small sentence, Rein raised an eyebrow and glanced over his shoulder where the other had looked.

Jim had turned around and, belatedly, realized that his master and life-giver was seemingly under attack by some spontaneous appearing whippersnapper. The skeleton lacked expression, but clicked its jaw threateningly with a stumbled step forwards. Rein's eyes widened.

"Oh! That's uhm...that's Jim. It's, ah, a...hobby of mine..." Lame answer, but said hobby was a little miffed. The luminescent eyes of the long-haired boy flickered with sparks, few small trickles of electricity coming from their corners to disappear back into skin along his cheeks or neck, sometimes hair. Jim seemed to still immediately, clicking ceasing, before settling his weight to take a step back and go statuesque. The power liked Jim, was eager to get to him, and it did. But along its haphazard path, was something live. Ambrose was, apparently, not compatible with necromancy. A particularly large stream of silver electricity arched down Rein's arm, aiming to bite back at the contact between the two, and to consequently deliver a shock to both sides.

It did not like immortal things that would never belong to it.

[Ambrose]

Some hobby, most of Them frowned, and Ambrose found himself agreeing only with a different tone. Necromancy wasn't just a 'hobby'-- it was a skill, a talent, near to weaponizing life. To have a servant under such powers was amazing; he couldn't find another word for it. The boy watched in wonder as the electricity bounced out and . . . headed straight for him.

This wasn't like Disaster's electricity. His lightning bolts weren't exactly soft, but they were always done with the purpose of transport. The face's skin was never charred and recovery was relatively quick. The burns from last semester had vanished long ago. This silver variety was very different from that. The jolt was harsher-- it wanted to send a message. What message that was Ambrose could not decipher through Their chatter, but it stung regardless, sending spots through his vision.

'Stung' was the wrong word. It was too kind.
The charge continued to dance on his skin after the initial strike, determined to make its mark. Wherever it traveled, the skin was burnt to a crisp, creating a trail of pitch black on the left arm. It was coming towards the face-- he was sure Disaster would stop it. Whenever a major injury occurred, his face was always sparred, for whatever reason. It made hiding the wounds easier, at least.

There was no Disaster, only continued disaster. The lightning found its mark and began wrecking havoc, starting up his neck, through his lips, across the cheek, grazing the eyeball--!

There was only so much pain the boy could endure.
He failed to scream, at least. But the horror remained in his stunned eyes, his pulsing body going near-limb. And through it all, Their voices united for a single phrase:
We told you so.

[Rein]

It was not but a second that the contact between them lasted. It was not the first time his power had snapped at someone in such a manner, but it was the first time that such a large, aggressive arch had appeared. Rein yanked his arms back, eyes going wide at the near instant damage his own abilities had inflicted. Never had it reacted so strongly or so badly.

The boy stumbled back, butt landing rather ungracefully on the floor as he tried to increase their distance as fast and far as possible. But seeing that his influence was still lingering on Ambrose's skin in such a mauling manner, in such a hungry way that Rein himself started to feel a bitter hate towards the boy - Why? Why did he suddenly want to injure--

The feelings were startling and so far from his own, they had to be. He was simply not like that. He-
It needed to stop, and he needed it to stop, and he made it the only way he knew how.

The lights went out. Jim dropped unceremoniously to the ground, and all signs of the necromantic lightning vanished, sparking out of existence immediately with chilled little wisps. The last thing to fall was Rein himself. With lifeless, grey eyes that appeared to have been blown out like a light bulb, his upper body thudded to the floor, hair cascading down around him. And he didn't feel it, because the chilled and solid confines of his own phylactery was comforting. And in it with him was everything, he could feel and account for all the power he had to his person, all contained in its neat and metal packaging sheltered deep withing his own desk drawer a mere few feet away. He would wait, collect himself under control, and then go see what damage had been done and how it was to be fixed.

[Ambrose]

It felt like something was missing. Their voices prevented any more knowledge than that.

Ambrose blinked hard in a vain attempt to be rid of the black spots now appearing in his vision. The patches were determined, though, sending another bout of pain with the deliberate close. No blinking, then. The pain was already nearing his limit. He didn't know he had a limit.

The clatter of bones alerted him; the boy forced his gaze towards the figure previously known as Jim. It was a figment of a copse now, cold trails of smoke rising from the pile. Definitively dead. They allowed no other thoughts on the matter; Their screams grew louder and louder, drowning every idea in Their way--

Whose idea was it for a necromancer roommate!?
Don't look at ME! or me! or me!
Well, it was SOMEBODY, and whoever that SOMEBODY is is going to get their eye gouged out, too!

. . . Eye?
The spots weren't leaving; there was probably some serious damage done. He wasn't worried about such an injury in the long run. They had always fixed his wounds up before. It was one of Their few uses-- and, he could always count on Them to meddle. Ignoring the current pain as much as he could, Ambrose forced his head back to Rein, the girly-man just as lifeless as his skeleton. He didn't feel shock; there was too much of it already with his injuries. The alarm was there, though, the red-haired boy extending a leg as far as he could without blacking out. He needed answers as to the sudden absence; a prod of the foot would help such matters.

That, and a voice. "Rein." His voice was like sandpaper but he had to try.

[Rein]

He was...reluctant. He didn't want to come out, and the idea to stay was tempting.

The lijk didn't feel the foot poking his body, exactly. Everything was strangely muted from his point now, all sounds distorted and feelings distant, incredibly detached. But, the thing of it was, he knew he still felt movement from the outside.
The thin body itself didn't move, it had absolutely no reaction. It was a long moment more before Rein decided that he couldn't hide away from this forever and it may only be worse if he waited and didn't own up to what he had done, even if by accident. He search out, oh so reluctantly withdrawing from his phylactery. Jim's bones shifted, as if a ghost of a whisper had been drawn out from them, but they otherwise did not stir. Directly after, a silver lilac glow returned to the dull grey eyes gradually.

He took no breath, no sigh of relief or consequent inhale in reaction to returning to the world of the oxygen-eaters. He kept his gaze averted as he somewhat weakly pushed himself back up into a sitting position, an air of shame already weighted around him. He didn't want to see, he was scared. But...there was no avoiding it.

Rein painfully turned his gaze up to survey the damage done to Ambrose.

[Ambrose]

Ambrose waited. He was a patient boy.
They were not. The Powers' eyes drifted . . .

Disaster usually diverted most damage off of the boy, but now that he was, to put it gently, 'Down There,' there was no mercy. Mercy was not entertaining. And so, of course, Their dear candidate had received the heaviest wounds possible.

The burns were nicely etched into his skin, creating a trail that went up up up to that lovely face. They liked Their eye candy, but change was good, too. The burns continued up the neck and crossed over the lip just for fun (the inside of the mouth was burned slightly, as well, but that was of little consequence considering They couldn't see internally). From there, the black crossed the terrain of left cheek and skimmed over the eye. Oh, that precious, precious eye; wonderful work by whomever was in charge of injuries. No one cared to ask who.

The eyeball was completely black.

Really, the inspiration came entirely from the necromancer himself, what with his fancy little light show. Their candidate needed some eye flair, too! something besides the haphazard color change from dirty brown to fresh red. Two eyes was too much; one was wonderfully satisfying. One for enough oddity. Didn't Entropy say something about being too normal before? He couldn't complain anymore.

There was but one voice of protestation: Laughter. He forced his way through the giggling, his own mouth along for the ride-- but, he had to say SOMETHING. We must fix Am-- the CANDIDATE immediately!

Such arguments wouldn't work anymore, though. They peered down at the boy with a unified frown; something was off about the candidate, something . . . worrisome. Off. Usually Their Ambrose was unstable with the power, but now it was Their power causing the trouble. And, while the power high was amazing, there was the constant nag of paranoia. It was going too well. Was the boy not learning his place?

He needed to learn it once more.

Ambrose managed to crack a small smile at the girly-man's waking. No words were needed in his mind; a simple 'good, you're up' was managed through expression alone.

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