#interaction. tzipporah.

[ tzipporah -> mello 3:40 AM ] This is an insane thing to say at 3 am. But okay. One chance. [ tzipporah -> mello 3:40 AM ] Do you mean now? Leaving the house. It's late. Early? [ tzipporah -> mello 3:43 AM ] But we can get breakfast before I have to work. If you're gonna be awake by then. I have to go at 9 am. [ tzipporah -> mello 3:43 AM ] My brother said ice skating is a humiliation ritual if you've never done it before.

SHE'S BEEN AWKWARDLY FIDGETING for like, ten seconds. she's pretty sure, anyways. isn't the concept of time a funny thing? and space, she supposes. meaning: don't ask how she got here, she has no clue, she just followed her feet. and it led to him. maybe there's a metaphor there? tzipporah clears her throat. awkward. gives him a smile. awkward, but sweet. "hi. i've been looking for you. you look, like. really tired. or upset. those sometimes are the same thing. are they, like, right now? what's wrong."

but tzipporah manages to persevere. a raise of her eyebrow, and she doesn't mean to sound as frustrated as she does, she promises. "this isn't from this library. i don't think. or it was never checked out. are you sure this is from here? i'm here almost every day. i've never seen you here."

despite it all, the part of tzipporah that feels as though casey is someone she's always known (and perhaps exists to her as a SAFE PLACE) wins out over her paranoia and hesitation towards potential stomach issues. she ducks her head - almost uncharacteristically shy instead of standoffish, and if she's hiding an equally shy smile - well, that's nobody's business. "maybe without syrup. i don't like super sweet things. but i've always never had, um , either. so. if it's not good, can i hold that against you?"

"we got away with escaping." it's a softer lie. a lie nevertheless. they're all still there, in some way. tzipporah and riley are still what the labs called them - the terror twins, in some way. but they can ignore that. "orpheus gets away with a lot of shit, too. we should do something about that."

she's trying to talk to strangers more. eden says it'd be good for her. it still makes tzipporah want to ram her head full force at any fucking brick wall. but she listens to her elders, she supposes. even if she shouldn't call out to someone in the library, when she's supposed to be working. oh well. don't be in a library at 11 am, or something. "i like --" falters, for a moment. give her a second. "--your cardigan. is it a cardigan. i don't know the difference between a cardigan and a jacket, i guess."

"i don't need YOU to tell me that-- that whatever the fuck i'm feeling is justified or reasonable." the first four words she spat out could stand alone, she thinks - as much as tzipporah feels like a monster for thinking it. but sometimes, it all boils over. "you know what, enough. okay. enough, malachi. okay? you - you know something? you were created to fuck with us. there's us - there's me, zelda, and orpheus, and there's YOU. that's all. do you get that? you're our sibling, but you're not our brother. and the only reason you are here is because we were sure you'd fucking rat on us to THEM if we left you behind. you get that? so fuck you, and fuck you for thinking you know anything about how i'm feeling."

"what the fuck is wrong with you? why are you watching me, anyways?"