❀ IC INBOX

[intoningly]

[ To the tune of a programmed animatronic voice ]

"This user's voicemail inbox is full. Thank you, goodbye."

text 🌼 action 🌼 video 🌼 voice

Comments

[intoningly]

[ Zero on the other hand, does not even flinch or so much as look like the news is new to her. This is what she'd assumed– why else would anyone be subjected to a place like this alongside someone like her. ]

What a big fucking surprise.

[ She pulls her knees up to her chest, gaze turned towards the ground. ]

You quarantine viruses if you want to keep them from ruining the whole system. That's what they did with us– what they had to do.

[extirpator]

So it wasn't a choice for you.

[ a silence. ]

...I don't think you were forgotten.

[ his features are the slightest bit sullen as he says that, mouth pulling downwards. ]

The Memory Tree was happy to see you. It recognized you. That means some part of the world still carries your memory.

[ and then he rests his head against the handle of his katana. ]

The people here are kind. I don't have a home to go back to, but they've tried to make one for me here. They'll do the same for you. They already are.

[intoningly]

Is any of that supposed to make me feel better?

[ There's the slighted note of petulance in the way she snaps. If she was a different person perhaps she would stomp or cry. But whatever tears she'd had left he'd forced out of her.

And now she is empty, and she is all the more grateful for it. ]

No one needs to remember and no one should– all shit like that does is make you miserable. It holds you back. I don't care about your tree, and the people here don't care about me. Human-beings screw over people they love, people they share blood with– and you want to convince me complete strangers any fucking reason to care about me? God, you're even stupider than you look.

[extirpator]

[ there's a raise of the brow. ]

Is insulting people what makes you feel better?

[intoningly]

[ She looks up, just to scowl. ]

Just calling it like I see it.

[extirpator]

[ waka flocka OKAY. ]

Get up. If you get proper bedrest, I'll stop talking to you.

[intoningly]

[ ... ]

For how long?

[extirpator]

[ he shrugs!! ]

[intoningly]

That's not an answer!

[extirpator]

Get up.

[intoningly]

No.

[extirpator]

Get up.

[ you're going to get the same reply 12 times in a row i'd say i'm sorry but it's you so i'm not ]

[intoningly]

Bite me, asshole.

[ You're canon familiar so I don't have to apologize for the fact that she's literally not going to get up for 12 tags :/ ]

[extirpator]

Get up. Or else.

[intoningly]

I'm gonna go with 'Or else'.

1/2

[extirpator]

[ he just straight up fucking roundhouse kicks her in the face so she's out cold in one strike ]

[extirpator]

[ she said "or else".

when she comes to, she'll find that she's tucked into a bed — there's a cold, damp cloth draped over her forehead, alongside a glass of water and a bowl of stew to her left.

oh, right, and the newfound bruise she's probably developing on the side of her face has been tended to, at the very least? anyhow, nier can be seen across the room, seated on a stool. his back is turned to her initially, but when he comes to he does take the time to crane his neck back and turn towards her. ]

Your fever's high. You should eat and go back to sleep.

1/3

[intoningly]

[ She wakes with purposeful silence, dejavu giving rise to paranoia. What was it that girl in the kitchen had said? That hell would be reliving the worst day of your life over and over? She reaches under her pillow and finds no knife there.

She lets go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding– today is not that day.

She does not get up until he has turned back around. That's not a strategic choice, it's just how it happens.

She stands, blearily gazing about the room. Her eyes land on the vase of fresh flowers that always seemed to reappear no matter how many times she threw them out. ]

2/3

[intoningly]

[ ]

[intoningly]

[ She stumbles a bit, and then walks back to the bed, getting underneath the covers pulling them up over her mouth. ]

Now, we're even.

[extirpator]

[ that shit hurt!!!!

he rubs at the back of his head, not moving to really do anything — it's fair. he doesn't take it personally. it just fucking hurts, my guy. ]

Ow...

[ he says it and behaves a bit like a wounded puppy, dabbing away at the blood that clots near the back of his head — it stains the white of his hair. he just washed that!!! ]

Drink some water. I'm almost finished with this.

[intoningly]

[ She gives the glass of water a scowl, before reaching for it slowly and sitting up just enough so she can drink.

But before she does– ]

Finished with what?

[extirpator]

[ he doesn't respond.

his pencil marches across the paper with utmost intent.

it falls against the wood of the table.

he blows off the lingering particles of his artistry. of his tools.

and then he peels the paper off of the table, standing and drawing closer as he splays it out for her to see.

it's small.

incredibly small.

the size of a grain of rice, one could say.

but it's there. ]

This.

[intoningly]

[ She squints so hard at the sheet of paper that she gives herself a headache.

She turns her gaze from the paper to him, and she swears in that moment she can feel the brain hemorrhage forming. ]

What in fuck's name am I looking at?

[extirpator]

It's you.