Aisaak (
ablacksun) wrote in
nexus_crossings2021-05-26 10:59 pm
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The Post-Apocalyptic Doughnut Thief
Nothing in Antillioch is clean. Or tidy. Or not covered in a thick layer of desert. Which is why the appearance of a pristine white door that may well lead to some spiffed-up futuristic hospital ward is something of a shock to Zack. There follows a brief consultation with his brother, who doesn't seem to want anything to do with it, as it's so ..spotless, and white, and... ewww. For the two hellgods it's completely out of place and worse. They're so attuned to their hell dimension that anything this hygienic sits in the craw like a stuck fishbone.
Abe, casually examining his fingernails, suggests Zack tries the handle, just, you know, to see if it's locked. We don't want anything pleasant coming in. Stupidly, Zack's curiosity wins over and he does actually open the door a crack... Abe swiftly shoves him straight though it, and the Apocalyptic prince is sent sprawling. He literally faceplants into this new, uncomfortably pure environment.
He's ended up on the main plaza, and lifts his head, not liking anything he sees. But that's Zack all over. He doesn't like anything much. He even snarls at the few unfortunate people closest to him.
Nothing about the Nexus feels comfortable to Zack. Not until he smells something drifting across the plaza. He follows the scent until he comes to a doughnut stand.
Zack is the embodiment of the post-apocalyptic hellscape. He's on nodding terms with all four horsemen, and his own essence combines War, Famine, Pestilence and Death.. or more accurately the after-effects of such things. Away from his own dimension, he feels the hunger of famine, and Zack hasn't actually ingested anything for centuries.
Now he's in the realm of the living, these soft little dough things smell amazing.
He grabs one and tears into it, ignoring the stallholders protests about something like paying, or money, or something. When the stallholder tries to physically take his arm, Zack pulls away, swipes another of the sweet dough shapes, and wrenches himself away from the stand. Zack moves through the crowds away from the still-shouting stalholder, almost bumping into everyone - he's not used to crowds.
And he doesn't understand the concept of theft.
He almost sends some poor person tumbling as he tries to make his exit. But he can't find the infernal door and that stupid sweet-dough-thing person is still on his tail. Zack grabs the nearest passerby by the lapel, demanding... “What's his fucking problem? What the fuck's money? What does that even mean?”
[ooc: Cue argument between your muse, Zack, and the doughnut seller. Mun apologises for his language and behaviour. He's not housebroken yet...]
Abe, casually examining his fingernails, suggests Zack tries the handle, just, you know, to see if it's locked. We don't want anything pleasant coming in. Stupidly, Zack's curiosity wins over and he does actually open the door a crack... Abe swiftly shoves him straight though it, and the Apocalyptic prince is sent sprawling. He literally faceplants into this new, uncomfortably pure environment.
He's ended up on the main plaza, and lifts his head, not liking anything he sees. But that's Zack all over. He doesn't like anything much. He even snarls at the few unfortunate people closest to him.
Nothing about the Nexus feels comfortable to Zack. Not until he smells something drifting across the plaza. He follows the scent until he comes to a doughnut stand.
Zack is the embodiment of the post-apocalyptic hellscape. He's on nodding terms with all four horsemen, and his own essence combines War, Famine, Pestilence and Death.. or more accurately the after-effects of such things. Away from his own dimension, he feels the hunger of famine, and Zack hasn't actually ingested anything for centuries.
Now he's in the realm of the living, these soft little dough things smell amazing.
He grabs one and tears into it, ignoring the stallholders protests about something like paying, or money, or something. When the stallholder tries to physically take his arm, Zack pulls away, swipes another of the sweet dough shapes, and wrenches himself away from the stand. Zack moves through the crowds away from the still-shouting stalholder, almost bumping into everyone - he's not used to crowds.
And he doesn't understand the concept of theft.
He almost sends some poor person tumbling as he tries to make his exit. But he can't find the infernal door and that stupid sweet-dough-thing person is still on his tail. Zack grabs the nearest passerby by the lapel, demanding... “What's his fucking problem? What the fuck's money? What does that even mean?”
[ooc: Cue argument between your muse, Zack, and the doughnut seller. Mun apologises for his language and behaviour. He's not housebroken yet...]
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Looking around Zack feels more and more uncomfortable. “I don't think so. There's decay in every world, but what there is here is … managed. It's almost synthetic.”
The Nexus seems alive in some way, too.
“It's all wrong. Unnatural.”
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"I'm a spirit of the worlds that are destroyed by their own. I feel their betrayal. Their pain. That's all born of nature, and this place doesn't feel natural. I'd prefer a windswept dustbowl anyway. Mortals would perish in my world.. but that's another reason to like it."
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"God, that's rude! I am not mad. I only had a bit of a nervous breakdown, that's all. It was stress-related."
Then she rolls her eyes.
"Oh, please. I'm a poet and even I'm not as dramatic as you sound right now."
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And then it's Zack's turn to ..not quite pout, but maybe glare some. "You asked why I thought it was unnatural! I was providing context."
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She sighs at his glare.
"Well, you sound like some sort of brooding anti-hero in a novel or something when you talk like that. Like a Heathcliff type. It's a little much."
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"It seemed more appropriate than telling you I'm some kind of earth-spirit." He uses the term 'earth' loosely, and only because that's where she's from.
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Esther raises an eyebrow, then reaches to tug at his arm. "C'mon. Are you still hungry? We can find a place to eat, if you'd like."
She adjusts her purse for a moment—it's then that Zack might notice a writing notebook and a couple of pens that happen to fall out.
"Oh, great," she says, reaching over to pick them up. "Sorry. I'm a writer. I always carry these with me. Like I said, are you hungry?"
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Well. With the hunger of countless famines gnawing away at him, Zack isn't going to refuse, and he simply takes the invitation as further evidence of her insanity. Which is reassuring.
He cocks his head at the paper and writing implements, and at the explanation. "You're a scribe? .. and yes. Food. That's all I wanted in the first place."
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"Again with the weird language," she says, actually amused for the first time in their conversation. "Yes. I write poetry and prose, and I'm working on my first novel."
She sounds very proud of that last part.
"Do you want to go someplace with alcohol? I could use a drink, honestly." It's partially because of his antics.
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He considers the options. Abe likes the finer things, so Zack knows what alcohol is. The mortal stuff has no effect on him, so it makes no difference. "I don't object to a place that serves alcohol, as long as you don't object to my table manners."
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Yes, Zack, Esther Greenwood is taking you to a dive bar.
"I don't think they'll care about your table manners there," she continues, starting to walk towards the downtown area where all the restaurants and bars are. "Besides, I'm hungry and I'm sure you are too."
She's ignoring the comment about her language for now.
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Truth be told, it's probably the best place for him. And of course if some creep paws Esther, Zack will put the literal fear of hell into them, whether he likes her or not. It's sort of what he does.
“I'm always hungry away from home. And at the risk of sounding like a heath-cliff, it's fucking painful.”
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Finally, they arrive at the bar. Inside, it's dark and kind of smoky, with no one really looking anyone else in the eye.
"So! Want to sit at the bar? Things are always more interesting there." And by interesting, she means you get drinks quicker, but hey. "We can get food, don't worry." Her own stomach is starting to rumble.
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With his utter lack of understanding of social cues, Zack promptly looks the first three people he sees straight in the eye. None of them seem to be able to hold his gaze, and look down. It makes him want to poke them. Maybe he will after he's filled his belly. Which, like the rest of his body is supernaturally-imbued dust and sand, so technically he doesn't have a stomach. However a good meal does nourish on some level and keeps the pain at bay.
“As long as there’s food, I don't mind. Will they ask me for money?”
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"I'm gonna have a vodka soda." Because God knows she needs one, at this point. "Here's a food menu, so you can look and see what you want to eat. Do you want anything to drink?"
Zack will see that the food menu is basically a dive bar menu—lots of fried stuff, filling and greasy.
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Zack's eyes light up - some - at the mention of drink. Drought is powerful in him too and he has an unslakeable thirst. "Do they have clean water here?" This seems to please him far more than anything called vodka soda.
Taking the menu, he stares at it for a long time, because he can't read. "I'll have that." Zack points at the first thing on the menu which says 'Welcome to Sparrow's Rest.'
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"They have water, yes," Esther replies, having already received her vodka soda, thanks to the speedy service. "I'll order you some, sure."
She looks at the menu, then back up at him.
"That's—you can't read, can't you?" She's practically appalled. "Whatever. Just get a burger and fries. You'd probably like that."
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“No. I can't read. Why would I need to?” Esther's so annoying. He glares for a moment, before realising he's actually a little embarrassed. He doesn't like feeling stupid and averts his gaze, staring at his knees.
“Burger and fries,” Zack repeats mechanically. “Is it meat? I like meat.”
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"Burgers are meat. You can get that and I'll get a BLT, I think." Esther admits that she's really hungry by this point. As if on cue, her stomach grumbles.
"Reading is...well, it helps with a lot of things. Trust me."
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“Clean,” he confirms, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Tastes good. How do you do reading then?”
Without giving Esther time to reply, he adds, “do all mortals make that noise?” On hearing her stomach rumble.
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She takes a long sip of her drink. This was going to be a long night.
"I didn't realize you were that thirsty." Though maybe she should've figured it out—the guy did eat a doughnut earlier, after all.
"...I could teach you how to read." Oh boy, here we go.
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He ponders her offer, eventually nodding. "Is it easy?" he asks. "I mean I don't mind if it's hard. I just want to know."
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Oh, bless him. He's not going to find it anytime soon.
The food is brought over to them, and to Zack it smells like a small slice of the heavens.
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