How boring did the days become while she was alone, because she certainly didnât consider these humans as entertainment. Well, okay, they were good for a few minutes worth of entertainment, but all their sniveling and whining became boring after a set amount of time. No one here was worth an intellectual conversation, nor did they give her any emotion other than disgust.
Though there was something to be said with a lack of energy, it didnât mean that a bond didnât exist. A small grin crossed painted lips as she turned her attention towards the source, knowing that there was only one person that could set off that particular feeling.
âFind anything of interest? Or was it all the same boring shit we find around here?â Her tone was almost hopeful in a way, maybe this world had something to give them that these miserable humans couldnât manage.
âEither way, I hope you have some good news for me. We both know we could use it.â
â  Mm. â The sound escaped him without Seventeen bothering to actually part his lips and speak like a decent human being. That would require him to⌠you know, expand effort to use actual words, beyond a vague, noncommittal hum that could be interpreted as either denial or acquiescence. Perhaps he only wanted to keep her guessing. âŚOr to be an annoying prick. Perhaps a little bit of both.
Whatever the case may be, he didnât bother to clarify before perching himself on top of the plush, elaborately carved arm of the ridiculous little throne she had custom-made for herself chair. It didnât, miraculously (or not-quite-so, given the weight of the thing), topple over (although it wasnât for lack of trying; seeing Her Highnessâs face if that were ever to happen⌠well. It would have been hilarious), and he settled upon it more fully, just short of sprawling. From this perspective, Eighteen appeared somehow smaller, despite her perpetually fierce expression of her eyes, as they turned to him (turned to anyone). It did little to rattle him, or give rise to any sort of emotion. Consideration. Thought. It was neither endearing nor provoking . . .  it just was. That expression, in eyes so similar to his that they might be mirrors; a bit of a constant, like the sun setting-and-rising-again, like the default blue of a sunny day. It phased him just as much (which is to say, not at all; nothing did; nothing wasâbut anyway).
â  Iâm neither your messenger, Eighteen, nor your scout. If you want someone to report to you, then send out one of your little tools. Iâm sure that theyâre just ⌠dying ⌠to make themselves useful. â
He grinned, mirroring her expression, but it was empty. A flash of teeth and of glee that lacked substance, a bit of subpar acting just for show. He didnât feel⌠entertained. He often didnât think that he felt anything at all. It was boring. It was all. so goddamn. bo-riiiing.Â
(He was, after all, just as bored as she was. He--)
â  You should cut down on the sparkle, you know, â he noted idly, turning his eyes down to the small music player that he hadâŚ. acquired along the way, prying it from red-stained fingers just because he was curious, fiddling with the earbuds before popping one in, and hitting play. (He liked it, you know. That particular song. It was amusing in a way that nothing else really was.) Â
â Â ..Iâll soon need sunglasses just to glance at you. You look like hell. â
tangentwithtanner
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
origamiaround
