07-04-2018, 08:46 AM
I'LL BE GOOD, I'LL BE GOOD
The first one he recognized — she was the overbearing one from before, getting in his damn way and yelling at him to be a good boy, essentially. Hot but mean, Zaniel might categorize her as, if there wasn’t something telling him that bad mother was possibly more accurate. Which, he could work with “hot but mean” — they were often biters and he could support that notion — but he couldn’t work with the bitter roadblock filtering in from his— Bastille’s memories. What was her name again? Hotel? Sweets? Something of the sort. It didn’t really matter either way, he supposed. She was about to not be a problem, as long as she actually fucked off this time before she did any more damage.
(Oh, there it was — the flickering recollection of anger and betrayal, flames of irritation; he could feel the surge of distaste towards her that seemed misplaced, and maybe that was how Bastille felt whenever they made an appearance. Huh. Sucks to suck, kid.)
”Who else would I mean?” he drawled, giving her a patented you dolt look. There was a moment of consideration before he alighted on fuzzy impressions of the other healer, the fun healer, and he grinned. ”That other one is cute, I guess, but only in the I-stomp-on-your-throat kind of way. She might bite a little too hard,” he supplied, before glancing away from her dismissively. Not in the mood? Everyone was always in the mood when he was finished with them. Besides, he didn’t care for her opinion, because her opinions were shit. If she wasn’t a target she was useless to him, and the vague tinges of annoyance eating away at him in response to her presence were starting to get... well. Annoying.
Never mind that, however: Rin was here and he was grinning at her fully, all teeth and delight. As expected, she didn’t seem pleased, but she was tired and deserved a break, clearly. Zaniel was an excellent break. ”Hi, Rinny,” he greeted borderline affectionately, rolling his eyes at her assertion before he teased, ”We both know that I am Bastille, babe. I don’t even know who this chick is and I dislike her,” a head tilt towards Suiteheart, ”Which, if you ask me, is evidence enough. I like all pretty things, so clearly, something is amiss. And that’s your boy.”
Zaniel would not pretend to truly understand his mess of souls, if only because Bastille didn’t even seem to get it, and it was hard to know what he himself didn’t know. But he could grasp the fact that he wasn’t himself, not really. These were his memories and his mannerisms, but they were all filtered through Bast: his memories mixed in along the way, bit by bit, and if he thought hard enough he could recognize that he was only Bastille, really. His name had stopped being Zaniel a long time ago: it was just easy to forget when his memories of that life were so prominent and he could convince himself that he was Zaniel, still. (Or rather, Zaniel could convince Bastille, but he supposed that was saying the same thing.) And Zaniel wasn’t about to disagree with that.
”This withdrawal can and will kill me,” he pointed out, giving Rin a wide-eyed look of innocence like he wasn’t trying to figure out how to get her to take something with him. ”Wouldn’t you rather I do it with you than Rad?” he added, with a hint of a sly smile, because— well. Innuendos were fun, but also he could very easily track the other healer down and get something from her. His — Bastille’s — reservations about disobeying Rin were starting to slip very, very rapidly.
[align=center]BASTILLEPRISONER — ASTRAL SERAPH — TAGS(Oh, there it was — the flickering recollection of anger and betrayal, flames of irritation; he could feel the surge of distaste towards her that seemed misplaced, and maybe that was how Bastille felt whenever they made an appearance. Huh. Sucks to suck, kid.)
”Who else would I mean?” he drawled, giving her a patented you dolt look. There was a moment of consideration before he alighted on fuzzy impressions of the other healer, the fun healer, and he grinned. ”That other one is cute, I guess, but only in the I-stomp-on-your-throat kind of way. She might bite a little too hard,” he supplied, before glancing away from her dismissively. Not in the mood? Everyone was always in the mood when he was finished with them. Besides, he didn’t care for her opinion, because her opinions were shit. If she wasn’t a target she was useless to him, and the vague tinges of annoyance eating away at him in response to her presence were starting to get... well. Annoying.
Never mind that, however: Rin was here and he was grinning at her fully, all teeth and delight. As expected, she didn’t seem pleased, but she was tired and deserved a break, clearly. Zaniel was an excellent break. ”Hi, Rinny,” he greeted borderline affectionately, rolling his eyes at her assertion before he teased, ”We both know that I am Bastille, babe. I don’t even know who this chick is and I dislike her,” a head tilt towards Suiteheart, ”Which, if you ask me, is evidence enough. I like all pretty things, so clearly, something is amiss. And that’s your boy.”
Zaniel would not pretend to truly understand his mess of souls, if only because Bastille didn’t even seem to get it, and it was hard to know what he himself didn’t know. But he could grasp the fact that he wasn’t himself, not really. These were his memories and his mannerisms, but they were all filtered through Bast: his memories mixed in along the way, bit by bit, and if he thought hard enough he could recognize that he was only Bastille, really. His name had stopped being Zaniel a long time ago: it was just easy to forget when his memories of that life were so prominent and he could convince himself that he was Zaniel, still. (Or rather, Zaniel could convince Bastille, but he supposed that was saying the same thing.) And Zaniel wasn’t about to disagree with that.
”This withdrawal can and will kill me,” he pointed out, giving Rin a wide-eyed look of innocence like he wasn’t trying to figure out how to get her to take something with him. ”Wouldn’t you rather I do it with you than Rad?” he added, with a hint of a sly smile, because— well. Innuendos were fun, but also he could very easily track the other healer down and get something from her. His — Bastille’s — reservations about disobeying Rin were starting to slip very, very rapidly.
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]