abandonware | i n [B] o x . // acata.

[ The sort of smile drops from her face, and Zero shrugs, clapping her hands together to rid them of excess soil. ]

Dunno–

[ She walks back to the neat pile of gardening supplies, putting a pair of shears free. ]

– what made your's put pants on?

[ She punctuates her question with a SNIP SNIP SNIP of the shears opening and closing. ]

[Was she going to just have her questions answered by other questions and misdirection, A2 wonders, being a hypocrite.]

Someone made them for me.

[They have not devolved into fighting yet, which is nothing short of a miracle. Whether or not this uneasy peace will hold is a mystery, but A2 continues to ask questions in the dim hope she'll get a straight answer, and so speaks honestly.]

Doesn't this garden belong to that man?

It did.

[ She kicks at a bit of upturned ground, where it looks like something has been buried. ]

Not anymore though.

[ Yeah she's gonna keep this going for as long as possible. She sits on her knees again, and begins carefully snipping away dead leaves. ]

So I guess that means it's mine now? Maybe I'll grow something useful– like something I can use to poison the stupid blond monkey who fucked up my face.

[She pinches the bridge of her nose...]

Unless you did something to him, it still does.

[Which she doubts, since he talked to her all the time, for some reason.]

Blond monkey...

[This sounds familiar.]

Who? [And then, finally, somewhat irritated:] Why can't you just answer a question? I answer your dumbass questions all the time.

Uh, in what fucking world?

[ She looks up briefly without actually moving her head. ]

If you answer my questions it's after ten tons of needling or during one of your blow ups.

[ She points her shears at A2 in an oddly dramatic fashion. ]

Really gotta work on that temper of yours. Fuck, at this point I'd offer to help you get rid of it yourself– since I'm nice like that.

[ She raises one finger. ]

I definitely did something to him, so if he asks I was never here. Got it?

[ She raises a second finger. ]

That bitch who never stops yelling.. Mordred, or whatever. That's everything, you happy?

[She leans back a little, at pointing shears, rolls her eyes too, though that's nothing new.]

Sounds like you're the one with a temper. Shouldn't you work on your own?

[She does not believe anything was done to Nier, and if it was he was too stubborn and dumb to really be affected by it, so she shrugs in a non-answer.]

Mordred, huh. [She puts a finger to her chin, pondering.] Sounds a lot like that moron who kept talking about royalty...

[Her eyes widen a fraction.]

I bet it is that moron. You let her beat you up? [She seems genuinely disappointed.]

Edited 2018-10-27 22:50 (UTC)

No!

[ She sounds offended. ]

I got her just as good as she got me, would've killed her but then the dumbass started crying about her daddy or some shit.

[ A gesture that smug from A2 of all people makes her scowl, but it smooths out– lips forming something of a smile. ]

Anyway, my temper is more than well managed– I'm pretty good at finding ways to deal with it, so just let me know if you ever want any help with yours. I can always beat it out of you.. or you know beat it out of you too.

[ Zero raises two fingers again, this time placing them on either side of her mouth in the shape of a V. ]

Call it an act of charity.

Oh, I'm sure.

[She leans into the little fence separating the garden from everything else, the smug amusement hiding there in her eyes. She even smiles some, a little, though it's mean-spirited: a faint and brief upturn of her mouth.]

[...Only for it to fade into a quiet thoughtfulness. She takes in what Zero is saying, and she gets that something absolutely inappropriate is being implied, but:]

I don't need any help. But if you're so excited to get your ass kicked across the Circle, I'll oblige.

[That is what they're talking about, she hopes.]

[ Zero stands, making her way to the other side of the gate right in front of A2. She stands close, like she's going to lean on it as well, but doesn't quite. ]

Please, don't talk tough shit when all I'd have to do is get you into water and watch you sink like a rock.

[ She looks at her appraisingly for a moment, like she's trying to figure something out, and then– ]

I mean, I could fuck you up. But I could fuck you too– think that would help your personality out more than the first option.

[A2 holds her ground.]

Takes a lot more than that.

[She'd know. She'd tried to throw herself at things just to see if a death would stick, only to leave disappointed.

Zero's next response makes her finally jerk back a little, startled, off-balance.]

What?

[what.]

[ Now that A2 has retreated some, she leans her elbows on the edge of the fence– chin resting on her palms. She looks at A2 skeptically. ]

What do you mean what? You never been hit on before, stupid?

[The silence in response should be answer enough, but instead her mouth opens, like she's about to say something insulting, then closes, because nothing comes to mind, for once.]

...

No.

[ She raises an eyebrow, a genuine sort of surprise on her face. ]

Seriously?

[ a beat ]

How?

[ A genuine question, finally. ]

Does it matter?

[She answers finally, teetering on the edge of defensive.] I just haven't.

[ There are a lot of things that could mean. She is a tinge curious, but it is not and will never be in her way to pry when it comes to things that matter. ]

No, it doesn't.

[ She says simply.

Zero steps away from the fence and returns to her work. ]

He told me I needed hobbies.

[ She says, suddenly, a derisive snort following her words. ]

Could never see another flower again and it'd still be too soon, but my options are limited.

[ She looks up, again without actually moving her head. ]

So, this is what I do now to kill time– aside from the other two things I offered, mind you.

He's always saying that.

[If it were anyone else, she would almost sound fond.

Zero's mention of other things makes her ears feel warm, for some reason, and she does not make any further comment on that. There's no way in hell she's asking about sparring right now. But she does tilt her head, curious.]

What's wrong with flowers? [She liked them, even though this is something she would not admit.]

Seriously?

[ She stops, mid-snip, as if frozen by how ridiculous she finds the question. ]

You wanna' look at me and take a fucking guess?

[ Her voice is flat, not angry. She comes to life again, snipping a last few leaves with more aggression than necessary. ]

Never had great luck with em', even before one started growing out of my eye.

[A2 takes this in with customary silence. Contemplative.]

Strange that you're helping, then.

[There's a vine twirling around the post of the fence. She reaches out to stroke one of the leaves, weighed down by droplets of water.] Where'd that thing come from, anyway?

The ground.

[ She says simply, taking one of the flowers between the fingers of her prosthetic hand and examining it. ]

Thought I was finally going to be put out of my misery, and then what do you know– stupid thing pops out of the dirt and decides it has other plans for me. Figures.

[ She lets go of the flower in her hands, frowning and scrunching up her nose like she's suddenly smelled something foul. ]

Can't trust any living thing, even if it can't talk.

[She has no real comment on wanting to be put out of one's misery, because honestly, same hat. She assumes that the strange flower has to be related to some sort of "magic," again. There was nothing mechanical that would animate the near dead and allow them to keep themselves. Not in her world, anyway.

Magic. It didn't make any sense to her. She's made somewhat uneasy by it with each new facet of it she discovers.

The dead should stay dead.]

And you can't get rid of it?

I could.

[ Her knees hurt from crouching, so she finally falls onto her butt, sitting on the ground. ]

Means I might die, or worse– lose an arm.

[ She glances down at her prosthetic, flexing the fingers and watching the black metal glimmer in the light. ]

Wouldn't be ideal, not being able to fight properly when people like you are running around.

[ There's no malice in her comment, even despite its nature. It's stated like a simple fact. ]

i n [B] o x . // acata.

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it's finally happening my soul is crumbling

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