day 44

[inflori]

[ His voice, even in his head, is tired. Exhausted and extremely irritated, even, with the petulance of a mind not yet fully awake. Petre was pulled from his comatose state just as suddenly as he fell into it, the stress of a broodmate being ripped from him having lifted from his symbiote. Now it's ready to keep going, but it hasn't given Petre the same courtesy just yet. He'll get there eventually. ]

( Why do you have to be so loud? )

[ ... All of you, he means. Ugh. ]

Comments

[wille]

Why? You're keeping a list?

[ And checking it twice, Santa? ]

Lexa helped me move you over. I'm sure Ilde cares.

[inflori]

[ Tsc! ]

No. Why would I keep a list. [ Why would you be silly enough to ask that, Petre. ] So Ilde didn't say anything?

[wille]

[ There's a smile on her face that's equal parts amused and sad, like seeing the semblance of an adult in a child's body. ]

Before we left for that ship, remember? Ilde talked to me to make sure I'd keep you safe.

[ Misato is loose with her facts when it suits her. ]

[inflori]

[ It strikes him as surprising, and he can't even think that he's touched because he doesn't know what that's like. His voice would rather spill that he doesn't need anyone to keep him safe, but at the same time... he wants to be thought of. He wants to matter. There's no Diana to keep him anchored, and the first substitute is gone, and he's splitting himself between three of them now: Ilde, Misato, Lexa. Each of them plays a different role. Each one of them keeps making him wonder what any of this is. ]

What did she say?

[wille]

She said--

[ Insert actual dramatic pause because ah, what can she tell him? That Ilde said she wanted Petre culled? That he could be useful if well-manipulated? Hardly complimentary. Misato reaches over to caress his face, but only to end the gesture with a pinch. ]

Not to do that to you cause you'll bite my hand off.

[inflori]

[ Yeah, don't tell him that. Nice distraction, Misato, you're an expert. ]

Stop! Damn!

[wille]

[ She barks out a laugh, head tipped back, the personification of a plague upon the idea of the yamato nadeshiko. ]

C'mon, stop asking silly questions so we can find something to eat.

[inflori]

[ And the personification of a demon cat perks its ears at the mention of food. What better way to distract him from being an awful plague upon

well, everything? ]

Like what?

[wille]

Like not people.

[ Remembering what Ilde said about the demon child . . . ]

Do you like coffee?

[inflori]

What the fuck, I've never eaten people on the ship.

[ He definitely has wanted to, but that's absolutely different, and therefore no one can criticize him. ]

I don't know, it's not like I drink it.

[ Does anyone really want to know what would happen if he did. ]

[wille]

Sometimes I wanna eat some people on the ship, so like, I can't blame you. [ Quick on its heels as if she can undo the damage: ] But you still shouldn't. Don't. Okay?

[ Speaking of coffee, she keeps walking through the winding hallways to find the alcove that serves as her room, a literal pigsty, though she seems to find no trouble locating a can of UCC brand coffee to toss his way. ]

[inflori]

[ Wow, Misato. That's. ]

You wanna eat people?

[ He thought he was the only one. Except for Nate, but he's gone... Could it be that he has found a true friend, at last? ]

... I thought you said coffee.

[ It's a can. There's no such thing as coffee in a can. ]

[wille]

--No! It's just an expression! NO!

[ Flashback to that horrifying scene of Petre swallowing an alien like it's slurpee. In case there's a chance he might miss her point, she comes over to grab him by the shoulders to stare into his eyes. Listen, child. ]

I don't eat people. You shouldn't eat people, but I know you-- need to, or whatever, so we'll find you people you can eat. Sometimes. Okay? But you can only eat those ones.

[inflori]

[ There's something about the way he presses his lips and stares back at Misato that's very - boyish, really, like he has no clue what to do with this entirely new, entirely weird situation. No one's grabbed his shoulders to make sure he understood a point without being aggressive about it. It's always one of two approaches, actually: overly careful, even gentle, or threatening in some shape or form.

Never just. This. ]

... You're so weird.