#deadpanisms

❛   could i trouble you for a vial of cesare borgia’s blood ?  ❜  it’s an honest question if not a little unusual. if it weren’t abel. what does fleur need a vial of cesare’s blood for ? for what does she seek this ... of the alleged model of now’s whitewashed christ. for good lucks , perhaps. 

most ( men ) would assume that fleur has no business creeping around this late at night. the devil’s hours . a foolish assumption to be sure . and second, her hot-tempered right hand accompanies her . he’s like a shadow. when she moves, he moves. it’s a beautiful and familiar tandem. fleur && zeta stand around the same height as she walks on heels ; though , noticeable sounds that should be following her steps do not. quiet as a cat the pair of them.

moreover, most would assume that neither fleur or zeta should be lurking the aisles of the Go To The Corner shop. which means neither of them should have been able to catch abel hunched . fleur raises a hand && zeta knows that means to yield . both stop. 

now -- it’d be difficult to describe what he’s hearing. what both of them are hearing. z feels fleur curl a manicured hand around his arm. feels the stinging prick of her nails digging into his sleeve . it’s familiar. it’s comforting, sort of. comfortable in that it sends something slithering up their throats . fleur and zeta just look humanoid. it’s all too easy to forget they’re not human. have never been. will never be. at the same time , without talking or even thinking both of them have gotten onto their haunches , spine sticking out against the fabric of their clothing . taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap. old dead ones rattle around , bang into their ribs. 

neither of them react in a negative manner to the fact that abel’s hunched over a Pit and his jaw seems to be opened wider than a jaw could ever go. something slithering about. it’d sound ominous to different people. or real people. 

but fleur and zeta hear it as it is: it’s a lullaby. 

in the tune of this kills the man. she hugs the man.

gosh i just came on and around but !!! please take care of yourself ! you have that cigarette ! i love you and i’m always here angel !

                   she would know those rows of sharp tiny teeth anywhere. the patter of small feet across the concrete floor of the greenhouse ( speaking of, it groans && arches with the excitement of a familiar energy ). zero fear is present as she’s kneeling down, accepting a sharp yank on her hand -- it forces her to come face to face with one of the gnomes. as terrifying as ever, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t beam so much that it puts the sun to shame. her head cants to one side; the greenhouse rattled its glass windows happily. “for a minute there, i thought you were DEAD, ludwig.”