We won't be hearing about Rebecca for a while now.
«•»«•»«•»«•»«•»«•»
Break Up to Break In
«•»«•»«•»«•»«•»«•»
With the lack of sleep he's put on himself, Ethan's eyes barely managed to stay up once he heard the words 'break' and 'clock-out' from Chandler this evening. He had spent another sleepless night wrapping his head around all this damned math that he was doing; ever since Ambrose told him to hold on to his written theorem, Ethan had been keeping himself isolated away from everybody (save for Terry, kind of) just because of it.
Listen, if a multi-trillionaire deems your non-monetized work as something to hold on to, best believe you will do just that.
Not only did his job grant him the discovery that he actually wasn't bad at math, but in this environment he was in, he felt safer and secure making risky decisions. In his terms, risky meant ending his relationship with Gina. He did so just a week ago, and he expected to feel a huge amount of relief, he expected to be out drinking with Evan and Avery and some of the other Rose Corp heavyweights to celebrate his emancipation. The relief part was granted but… he found himself feeling like he imprisoned himself, closing off all forms of socializing and using his theorem work as a form of 'rehab', if one will.
The admin always wondered how the fuck Ambrose balanced such an insanely inhuman occupation with his leisurely lifestyle so well; the man never looked to have any bags under his eyes nor to be suffering from food stress. He doesn't even drink coffee to get himself up at 6 in the morning, for crying out loud.
The majority of Rose Corp has been, for the most part, closed since 7 in the evening. It was currently 9:30 at dusk, and Ethan had long fallen asleep on his desk over-reading all that he had written down. The joint office room was quiet, minus the ambient noises of his laptop running and the relaxing sound of Ambrose's heels clicking in his office every once in a while. His phone was on the floor, so he didn't wake up from the vibrations of someone calling him. Matter of fact, the young admin was so snug in his sleeping position, that he had curled up his bag into a pillow encased above his folded arms coupled with his light snoring.
The light sound of thick, short heels came closer to his sleeping form. Ambrose had checked the time around 100 minutes ago, which was when everyone had long left and when Ethan was more than likely starting to fall asleep. Sliding a hand on his desk, the engineer took the bunch of papers and looked over them, wanting to see what exactly was keeping Ethan up all this time. It wasn't like the young man wasn't doing his job; he was doing it very well, but Desnians didn't have jobs that overworked them to exhaustion. Hell, the mass majority of people work only 30 hours a week maximum.
The trillionaire smiled; even though the papers before him looked just as messy as any architect's blueprint, the concept Ethan was getting at was easily comprehensible by him. It made him even happier to see that Ethan didn't actually throw away his work, and had put so much time into delving into his hidden talent. He placed the papers back on the desk and walked around it to stand next to Ethan, lightly tapping the man and saying his name in a quiet voice a few times.
Ethan felt the light taps on his shoulder and he stirred, his nerves still calmed by the sound of that sweet, velvety voice. He was almost tempted to keep his eyes closed because of how good it sounded in his sleepy daze, he could reckon that voice was angelic, almost like a post-lullaby.
Though he couldn't, because when he finally shifted and looked up, he found two soft golden eyes looking back at him.
Every calmed nerve in Ethan's body was somersaulted into anxiety. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry Ambrose, I didn't mean to sleep in!" He frantically looked around for the time… even though the hologram clock was on his desk. "What time is it? Dammit, I'm so la-"
"Ethan."
Ethan stopped his tired ramblings to face his boss again. "...yes?"
Ambrose was patient. He also looked as though he slept like a baby last night, with how awake and active his handsome face was. "You just fell asleep; it's fine."
Ethan blinked, and asked more questions like a dumbass. "...It is?"
His boss chuckled. "Yes, it is." He had long clocked Ethan out for him, so there was really no worry on his part. Ambrose took hold of his theorem papers before Ethan could stop him, leaning against the admin's desk. "This is what kept you up?"
"Well, yeah I-" Ethan scratched his messy undercut. "I spent some time last night just writing stuff for that."
"Some time?" Golden eyes faced him dubiously, though Ambrose had a smirk on his face. "You walked in today looking like a zombie."
Did he? He probably did, Ethan concurred; he did almost forget to put on his shoes while getting ready this morning. "Oh…" Then he eyed the paper in Ambrose's curious hands, becoming feebly defensive. "I'm not… finished with it."
Ambrose was still calm, it was almost reassuring to be in his presence at the moment. Ethan didn't know why he thought Ambrose was going to insult him. "I know you aren't." Ambrose flipped a page, looked at it for three seconds, and then flipped to the next page. Ethan raised a brow. "Did something happen?"
The admin looked confused. "Hmm?" Ambrose didn't have to ask again because Ethan registered it quickly after. How did he know…? "Oh umm… I kinda, ended a relationship with someone." He strangely felt the need to explain himself. "It wasn't going well for a long time, I mean. She was manipulative and stuff, and I didn't wanna deal with that anymore."
"Mmm-hmm…" Ambrose nodded slowly while he read, listening intently.
"It wasn't violent or anything, I did it over the phone at first, and she got upset so I had to get home and tell her that I wasn't just… feeling it." The young man got more comfortable with explaining his piece. "Now she doesn't live with me anymore, I got the whole place to myself and- you know, I'm happy, honestly. Like I feel more free to do what I want, but I guess I wasn't really into drinking and cutting ass with my friends as an aftermath." Ethan paused. Ambrose had reached the very last page of his congealed mathematics, and the admin misjudged the comforting silence. "I'm sorry if I rambled, umm…"
Ambrose closed the makeshift booklet and smiled at him. "You didn't ramble at all. It's good that you made a decision that was right for you."
He felt validated by that, even though his co-workers and Chandler told and advised him the same exact thing, it felt nice that his own boss showed consideration outside of his work. It isn't like Ambrose doesn't do that, from the times he's seen his boss chat with the others as if he were some regular human guy, but Ethan still felt a bigger conviction to anything he says just because of his unimaginable wealth.
It's kind of hard to get used to a lenient, laid back boss when your past bosses were anything but that.
"Yeah…" He nodded to himself and looked down at his shoes. They were brown and unpolished, but clean. His eyes went to Ambrose's heeled boots; they were a velvety burgundy color and looked to be brand damned new. He found comfort in looking at those as the silence progressed. "It feels weird, though."
"How?" Ambrose asked him.
"Like, not having someone to… I don't know, keep you weighted, I guess? I haven't had this kind of freedom in a while." And yet he was misusing it, at least in his eyes. Ethan chuckled to himself. "Hell, I'm holed myself up over my theorem ever since, so I guess I'm not as free as I thought."
"Yes you are."
That was the simplest rebuke to his confusing statement, and Ethan was sure Ambrose didn't know where he was coming from. "Huh?"
"You said she was manipulative, right?" The golden eyed man eyed Ethan's quiet nod. "Did she make fun of you a lot?"
He thought about it. "Well, yeah… Especially about how headass I am over my job."
"Well, now you're free of her judgment." Ambrose shrugged. "You can do whatever you want without anyone teasing you of otherwise."
He was damned right; Ethan used to take time off of doing nerdy shit because his girlfriend did indeed influence him, even if he didn't want to admit it. He was more confident in what he was coming up with now that Gina was gone, and it felt damned good to know that his efforts were worth something.
"... Dang, yeah… I didn't think of it that way." Ethan shook his head; shouldn't that have been the very first thought in lieu of his 'liberation'? "That slipped over my head, I'm an idiot."
"You're not, Ethan." Ambrose reassured him. "You were brave to do what you did."
He meant that in a serious context: Gina was the daughter of a very rich man, and all of her family were apparent narcissistic loonies, so Ethan even thinking about leaving the relationship was a strong feat.
"Thanks." Ethan fidgeted. He wasn't used to this level of validation from anyone in a position above him. Just goes to show that his new boss was nothing less than a sweetheart.
Ambrose nodded, before a finger landed on Ethan's bag still sitting beneath his upper arm. "You wanna go home now?"
He got so comfortable in this conversation that he completely forgot it was well over closing time at the moment. Ethan sat straight up real quick. "OH! Uh, yeah, I'm sorry."
Ambrose allowed him to stand up as he backed away and started heading to his own office. "It's all okay, Ethan. Go home and get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow though," He eyed Ethan's papers, "The others also picked up on your workings. I want you to tell us what you have there."
In packing his stuff and getting up, Ethan froze at that last sentence. "Wait, what? But like I… I can't put it in normal words, you guys won't understand and it'll sound stupid."
Ambrose had a hand slung against his office door as he cocked his head at him. "Ethan, the type of math we do can't be put into normal words anyway." Ambrose gestured towards the admin. "You're all good, and I know you comprehend your work better than you think."
Ethan sighed. Dammit, now all that pressure he was certain he lost is back, again. "I uhh… Okay." He couldn't fight against that, he deflated. "I'll see you in the morning then."
"Mm-hmm." Ambrose beamed such a charming smile that could make Ethan forget about the fact that he was practically put into Final's Week mode just now. "Have a good night."
The heeled supergenius turned and went into his office before Ethan could attempt to decline his presentation. The young admin left the office, and the large building through one of the exits that led to the first level parking lot. He turned on his car, plopped himself in, and exhaled while sinking into his seat. This was a different kind of exhale though, he didn't feel dejected at the idea of sharing his ideas with other geniuses, but he felt rattled at the jarring opportunity. People of IQs over 200 a piece were meant to look at what he had to say, and comment… And maybe ridicule too.
He shook the thought away, the people at Rose Corp were not that elementary; everyone was always welcoming of new things and changes. It was almost surreal to see such a work environment thrive as big as it did with how little rigidity everyone had.
At the same time, a part of him was damned excited to show others his theorem, regardless of what they had to say. Knowing that his boss was interested was enough validation for him in the end, no matter how stupid his shit turns out to be. When he goes off home, there will be no one getting up his arse over his choices, and no one waking him up in the middle of the night aggressively stealing his own blankets away from him.
Revving his engine, he drove out of the huge parking lot with a budding smile on his face; being single sure had its benefits, and he was sure as hell going to use all of them.
••••••••••
Speaking of being single:
"Jay," Adrian called out his friend's name as he walked through his house hallway, "Dude, hey! HEY!"
Like any great friend, Adrian decided that the best way to wake his boy up was by harshly kicking his door open. That set the Mandalan producer off, as he military-rolled out of bed, did a kick up and grabbed the lamp off of his nightstand. When he realized there was no thief at his door, but rather Adrian, Jay inhaled and returned his lamp back to his nightstand calmly, before snatching his own pillow and charging at the other producer.
"YOU FUCKING IDIOT, DON'T WAKE ME UP LIKE THAT!" Jay rampaged his whole back with the pillow, and Adrian cowered until he was in a fetal position on the ground. "How you like it if someone barged into your room the way you just did?! I BET YOU WOULDN'T WANT THAT, ASSHOLE!"
"Jay, Jay- dude LI-OKAY!" Adrian tried to grab the pillow as it rained down on him. "I'm sorry! I just… I couldn't help it."
Jay ceased, but he gave Adrian such a judgemental glare leaning down to him. "How could you not help it? You thought that was necessary?"
Adrian had his hands up in defense because he felt like Jay was going to hit him again. He smiled shakily. "I wanted to see your reaction."
"Bitch, I was asleep!" Jay tossed the pillow back onto his bed. "How else was I gonna react?"
Adrian shrugged sheepishly. "... Scared?"
There was a pause as Jay stared him right in his face before rolling his eyes and shaking his head, heading to his wardrobe. "You're a dick."
The curly haired man stood up. "'Ey 'ey, man listen, I was just playing around. You've just been sleeping a lot lately." He placed a hand on Jay's shoulder to make him turn around. "What's up with you, bro?"
"Nothing."
Adrian knew Jay way too well, to know that as flat response like that was far from the truth. "Bullshit. Come on," he sat on Jay's bed, "Tell me: what happened?"
Jay busied himself in finding a shirt and when he did, he turned to see Adrian patiently sitting, still waiting for his response. There was no use in hiding it from his own buddy for this long, even though it's only been two days. "Well… A couple days ago…" Jay fumbled his shirt on. "Me and Lexi had a chat and umm…" He looked down at the floor. "We ended it."
Adrian's eyes slowly raised. "Wait, no…" Jay nodded at him. "Wait, so… Did it bother her that much?"
"Apparently so- well, she kind of made it clear that she didn't want to be in a relationship anymore but…" Jay shrugged. "She wanted to figure herself out, so she thought of it as taking time off."
Which Jay does not consider with importance. If he and a girl broke up, then that's it: there is no fuck buddy situation going on or anything, it's a done deal then. Taking time off was such a tricky thing to do because it suggests that she'll come back again, which is not how most relationships where one party has to 'figure themselves out' work. He felt nothing against her, in fact he respected her decision because he really didn't want to see Lexi be conflicted. He knew it was for the better, for her especially.
"Oh…" Adrian nodded in understanding. He got the gist of it, he wasn't going to press him for more information. Jay always kept any business in his relationships private, regardless of how good or bad it was. It would be wrong for Adrian to abjure that, so he did what he did best; he gathered humor from the situation. "So is that why you've been holed up here for the past two days?"
"What are you talking about, I was not holed up." Jay was in denial. "I have been fine ever since, I'm just tired."
"Riiiiight…"
"Do you want me to assault you with a pillow again?"
"If you gotta resort to violence to prove your point…" Adrian gestured a shrug with a shitty grin on his face. "Then your point is weak."
"Man, shush." Jay playfully hit him, a smirk already threatening to plaster his mostly dull expression. "I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Duh, motherfucker-I'm like, extravagant." Jay even articulated with that before he frowned at himself. "... Is that the right word to use? I dunno, I just woke up."
"You seem way too alert and awake to be just woken up."
"Shut uuuuup." Jay whined and threw a pair of pants at him. "Those are yours, dick."
"Why are they here?" Adrian smirked at him. "Why are you wearing my clothes?"
"I'm not wearing them, you little-"
He wasn't listening, he stood up from the bed to better make his escape. "Is this gypsy act what you consider a 'rebound'?"
Not only did he play on the fact that Jay was bisexual, but he made it sound like his friend was trying to low-key swoon him by stealing his clothes, and not only did that make Jay angry, but the Mandalan artist took to chasing his co-producer through the hallway, down the stairs, into the kitchen and out the backyard door to beat him senseless with a pillow again.
"You really wanna be sus with me?!"
"Jay-J-I'm SORRY!"
Jay stopped hitting him and taunted him with a smirk. "Lemme guess: you couldn't handle it."
"I mean I could, I just thought it was funny to say." Adrian slapped the pillow out of Jay's arms and teleported a few feet away to get a head start in hiding his ass elsewhere. Jay ran after him, but was stopped by one of their phones ringing. Now in the kitchen, he went to the countertop, accepting the call from this unsaved number since the log showed this was a number Adrian frequented.
"Yo?"
"Is this… Oh, this ain't Adrian." The man said, his voice sounded very familiar. He sounded like one of James' teammates.
"Nick?" Jay raised a brow. "What's up?"
"Uhh, hey Jay." Nick didn't greet Jay immediately because he sounded a lot more anxious, now that he knew there was someone else trustworthy on the phone. "Have you spoken with James, like at all lately?"
Jay tilted his head. "Not at all, like it's almost been a month. I just assumed that he was with you guys doing drills."
"I haven't seen him in over a month."
There was a pause in that sentence; it held a heavy emphasis especially because Jay and Adrian did not know what James has been up to in recent times, which is very odd. Whether it be through his Hash, or with personal texts and calls, somebody always knew what he was doing. "Really? I mean- hold on…" Jay turned on the speaker and unlocked Adrian's phone to check James' Hash.
"Yeah, really. I figured you'd know something-" There was a sound of something dropping along with Nick muttering 'shit' to himself. "You checking his Hash?"
"Yeah." Jay had a deep frown on his face. "He hasn't updated in nearly a month. His last post was about that party he went to." Nick immediately made an uneasy sound in tandem. "That's just odd… he doesn't just go ghost like that."
"Damn, like… I hope everything's okay, like…" Nick shook his head. "The only thing I know is that yesterday night, he drunkenly called one of our boys and he was barely making sense in what he said. Like guy was just rambling and he sounded like he was crying over something."
Crying? Since when does James cry, aside from anything having to do with his grandaunt… Oh, shit… "Can you ask your guy what he can make out of that rambling?"
"He told me that James was going on about the party and how dumb he was, and how he made mistakes, but aside from that nothing made sense." Nick tossed a card in the air and caught it with two fingers. "But he didn't know why James kept saying he 'didn't do anything other than stupid shit', that was one of the things he kept repeating." The basketball player exhaled. "I dunno man. I tried calling him this morning and afternoon, but James wouldn't answer. You guys could probably get a hold of him better than I could, though."
Well, chances are if Nick couldn't reach James, then they couldn't either. Nick was one of the couple players on James' team that extensively hung out with James' friends outside of the team. "I'll try. I didn't know he was MIA to that extent. If I do get to him, I'll tell you." Jay nodded to Nick over the phone. "Peace."
With that, the producer went on to look over Adrian's contacts. Before he called James, he decided to ask Zamasu if the God has seen or heard from him. There was no way Zamasu wasn't aware of James' activities, he probably knows that Adrian is currently hiding in his own closet right now. As he waited for James to pick up, he got a message.
Zee-Zee: No.
Jay blinked; that seemed… oddly curt. Really? Not even a single message or anything? Because he's been quiet for almost a month, I was certain you knew what he's up to.
Zee-Zee: I'm not concerned with what he's been doing.
That was a brow raiser; Zamasu sounded annoyed by the simple mention of the basketball player, and they both are practically besties. Oh… okay.
Welp, seems like Zamasu knows something that he doesn't. He'd rather speak with the Kaioshin in person about that, there had to be a reason for his dissent.
In lieu of those messages being sent, James had not answered his phone. There wasn't even a voicemail which meant one of two things: James purposely declined the call, or his phone was on Do Not Disturb mode. What was going on with him?
Adrian peeked his scaredy head from the stairs, at the open kitchen where Jay stood. "Do we have a truce… Why are you on my phone?"
Jay turned to Adrian, foregoing his earlier annoyance. "Has James like, hung out with you after the party night?"
Adrian tilted his head, coming downstairs as he shook his head. "Not at all. He's probably running drills, isn't he? He hasn't updated his Hash in a while."
"He hasn't been with his teammates ever since." Jay gestured to Adrian's phone. "Nick just called to ask me if we knew what he was up to."
He was still inconclusive. "Haven't heard anything from him." Adrian took his phone. "But I know Zamasu has some kind of beef with him now." Jay sat down on one of the stools as Adrian continued: "We chatted over a call one day, I dunno what the conversation was but somewhere in there, James was mentioned. Zamasu just heavily opposes him now, and he wouldn't tell me why."
"Really?" Jay couldn't imagine Zamasu being contempt for a reason that wasn't explainable. He was the most level headed person when it came to personal affairs, at least now he is, so whatever James did had to be inexcusable. Maybe that was what he was mumbling about in his drunken stupor. How odd… "Huh…"
"Yeah and, like dude wouldn't answer my calls at all. I've tried calling him over the past week to hang out but… he's been painfully silent." Adrian shook his head. "If he's going through something, it has to be serious."
And it is, but neither of them know about it. Unknown to anybody at the moment, James had got word of the reason for the restraining order, and even though it isn't true, the weight it put on his shoulders, over the possibility that someone accused him of rape, and knowing what it would do to his career and his respectability as a person… James couldn't possibility function as a normal human being with all of that. His lawyer was currently working on reaching some sort of conclusive case study that would rid the restraining order, at least before this potential victim could 'air him out' on something that wasn't true, and had no evidence.
Unfortunately, there was evidence that it had occurred. Albeit it was not fresh, there are accounts that could say they saw 'James' with Irene that night, since his doppelganger was never in a premise where he was, and wore the same exact simple blazer he did. And the victim in question, which he still doesn't know was Irene, was not letting 'him' get away with his crime…
She was hellbent on exposing him for being a cheater, and a rapist.
••••••••••
This has to be the craziest thing Zamasu has ever came across in his life.
Currently sitting in his room, eyes glued to his screen, he found himself making faces of shock and horror at the studies he stumbled upon about a funded experimental facility that existed some time ago. Its date of establishment was not officially on the Web, in fact the dates that some scholar articles used weren't even correspondent to one another, and he assumed that this information was so classified that even the surface Web barely held factual traces of it.
The human-experimental facility coined itself under an unknown alias, but its most famous operation was what made it notorious: Project Anima. This operation ran on for some time, that of which was also ambiguous, and based itself around 'testing the physical limits of Desnian human races'. They handpicked thousands of people of unspecified ages, mostly young individuals, to participate in multiple accounts of torture, psychological and emotional trauma, and abuse.
Given the fact that he was reading this stuff, he figured that Anima launched after the Seven Years War, an insane idea to fathom at first until one realizes that the entire world was founded upon abrupt anarchy for a period of time afterwards, maybe even as recent as when the people he came to know were children. Knowing that there was such a thing as a group of rich individuals trying to find perfect methods to control masses of people was sickening.
If he had read about this stuff six months ago, with only a month spent in Desna, he would not be surprised. He would totally be down with knowing that Desnian humans were filthy enough to exploit their own kind. Hell, a lot of mortal species do the same thing, regardless of what Universe they are in. Some articles have said that this facility was way ahead of its time in terms of technology, so Anima's inception could have been very recent...
Zamasu had shut his phone off and tossed it on the bed, highly uncomfortable with what his brain digested. What if those people were people that his human associates knew, like family members, or friends even? He couldn't stomach the idea of them growing up in a world where this establishment was so prevalent and so terrifying, that the information had to be classified. Not only that, but from what he read, after the facility was seized, only a few hundred of the thousands of people involved were found alive and responsive.
The Kaioshin had no idea what this operation really was about. Project Anima had nothing to do with controlling the masses, and was under operation right under the noses of the public in Draco, the same radioactive country that used to be highly uninhabitable. None of the real information was open to the public, all that was speculated and adapted were pure theories, the only people that truly knew were the highest echelons in the government, the surviving victims, and the Hyperions. More than ninety nine percent of the population had no say on what really happened, but currently the Kaioshin knows nothing of this.
He reckoned, however, that delving deeper into this stuff would probably screw him up more than seeing whole civilizations crumble. Maybe it was the personal aspect, the fact that these could be people the others knew or worse, that he knew, have gone through this insanity. Despite that… his brain was unsatiated; he wanted to get down to the nitty gritty of this, because perhaps, perhaps… this could have ties to all the strange criminal action going on.
Hell, this could tie into why Rebecca was acting and doing strange things. An operation may be shut down, but that doesn't label its practices as profitless. He didn't want to imagine going off on her, without knowing that she was probably taken into some form of torture or conditioning. He shook his head, once again he was getting heavy into conspiracies, though he begrudgingly hoped that was why Rebecca was doing what she did.
It wasn't. She made her choice under a sober mindset, all of it was her decision.
He overheard Irene on the phone downstairs, stepping off his bed and going to the hallway. He was actually happy to know that she finally started communicating with other people, but… good god was she angry. He listened closely:
"You think I'm gonna let this slide?! I ain't that weak, I ain't that fuckin' weak- I'm not gonna sit down and shut the fuck up over what happened to me! Everyone has to fucking know!" There was a pause, and he heard the sound of her repeatedly slamming her fist against a table.
"I know it was him, I saw it with my own fucking eyes! You think I don't know this fucking man? I dated him for nine fucking months!" One of her chairs screeched loudly. "Yet he's got the nerve to come to me, at that damned party, all smiling and shit, touching me and shit, and then standing there watching me just…" Irene's voice was cracking, and she stopped speaking. He felt his gut sink when she heard her sniffing before she resumed raising her cracked voice again. "He's not going any-fucking-where other than a jailcell, where he fucking belongs! I don't deserve that shit, no one does…"
At this point, the Kaioshin was by the stairs, and he started coming down to see the artist pacing through the kitchen and the living room on her phone.
"Sis, I-" Irene shook her head. "I've been fine! I'm getting better, trust me; I stopped drinking and biting my nails, and I don't have bad dreams anymore. I'm in the right fucking mind, and I know what I want!" Irene stopped her pacing, facing away from him as she grounded out her last statement: "If anything, I want him fucking dead."
Zamasu flinched, the amount of conviction Irene had while she spoke was enough to make his ears hurt, so much so that even her own voice has become hoarse. He knew who exactly she was talking about.
As she was about to start pacing again Irene spotted him, and she appeared to stop everything she was doing for a couple seconds. The artist abruptly turned her face from him while speaking into her phone and going to the kitchen. "I'll call you back, I gotta do something right now… No, it's not a bad thing, I just gotta clean, sis. Alright, byeee!" She hung up, exhaled, and wiped her face roughly as Zamasu approached the kitchen. Irene turned to him with a worn out face, but she still smiled at him. "Good evening, Z."
"Umm…" Did she just… change whole moods in a matter of seconds? She went from vice to nice so quickly that it scared him. "Hello. Are you-"
"I'm good Zamasu, my uhh-" She waved a hand, gesturing languidly to show that nothing bothered her. "My sister was just telling me about something that happened and I got really mad. That's, that's family, y'know? Gotta be there for 'em."
Should he rebuke against that? He felt like whatever she said wasn't his business, especially because she even mentioned her rape in that call. He slowly nodded. "Really?" He decided to remain impartial, but curious. "What happened?"
"It's just family business, ummm…" Irene looked down at the ground. Her entire body language was fast and fidgety, and she turned towards her stove. "You want something to eat? You might be hung-well, not hungry but… you probably miss my cooking since you've been cheffin' it up lately."
That was true, but that was not something Zamasu would outwardly admit, nor is it what he was focused on. He didn't answer her, but she was already taking out the ingredients for baked macaroni and cheese. He just went to sit in the dining room and watch her as she moved about. With how fast she was doing everything, he reckoned she'd get lightheaded in a matter of minutes.
"Irene."
Irene had her stove on, water currently being heated, as she looked to be fishing out things, not readily answering him. He almost said her name again before she responded. "Yeah?"
"Can you take a moment to relax?" Zamasu warranted this of her.
Irene stopped moving around and she breathed. "I am relaxed." She said, her body threatening to move again because she knew he was not settling for 'family business' as an answer. He wanted to know more, and she didn't want him to know…
"What was that phone call really about?" Zamasu tilted his head. "You sounded so upset."
"I just…" Irene shrugged. "I was ranting about James and things."
"What did he do?"
Irene went silent, and still at that. Zamasu held his tongue, knowing he struck something in her and knowing he may be overstepping his boundaries, but as long as he showed that he was serious she wouldn't feel negatively attacked. It took her a moment before she spoke up: "He cheated. That stuff, I kinda… felt like ranting again."
"That happened over a month ago." Zamasu crossed his arms. "You always told me you were over that."
"I am, but my sister didn't know." Irene could slap herself at that moment; that was a terrible lie that Zamasu easily rebuked.
"Of all those phone calls you have made on the week of your relationship ending, none of them were in relation to your own sibling?" He clocked a brow. "I feel this has nothing to do with that."
It was like a switch flipped in her brain. She went from being dismissive and quirky, to full on defensive. "So what if it doesn't? Why does it matter to you?"
That question struck a nerve in her and if this conversation happened a week prior to today, she would be sobbing on the floor right now. Zamasu could see the infliction present in her eyes, but he didn't want to comment.
"What happened to you?" He reinstated his question. "It has been a month and you have been acting strange. It concerns me."
"Nothing happened."
"Lies."
Irene abruptly turned around, choosing not to answer him and instead focus on her current supper cooking. The water had just started to boil, so she had to wait a bit more, in unbusy silence, before she dump all the macaronis in. 'Lies'… Does Zamasu think it's okay to call people liars when they wouldn't tell his curious ass about shit? Her fingers tapped against the countertop, he's not entitled to knowing every little detail of her fucking life, especially if he chooses to deem her a liar for telling him that nothing happened on that night, just because she didn't want him to know she raped. Maybe she just won't tell him, can't he be happy with that?!
Though a huge part of her really hoped the matured Kaioshin, upon knowing her experience, would waste no time in helping her heal. She hoped that he would hear her out, and hold her and keep her warm because Irene has been craving that kind of comfort for the longest. All of her friends were either busy or gone, and she had the greatest outlet to vent to sitting in her dining room, yet…
She was afraid that he would mock her, tell her she was lying to get sympathy points, to give him an excuse as to why she felt so physically drained and weak despite being so active lately. She was afraid he would tell her exactly who she really is- a dirty, weak, and flimsy minded bitch. Irene could not bear someone agreeing with her; that was the harsh truth that only she saw and acknowledged. She would rather keep it that way.
In spite, his retort keep playing in her head and it made her angrier by the second. She suddenly turned to him with a wooden spoon on hand, not making any move to hit him, but she gestured wildly. "Is that your response to everything you aren't supposed to know?"
Zamasu did not expect that question at all, especially with the vigor she had in her hoarse voice. "What?"
"You think that just because you're supposed to know-it-all gives you the right to everyone's business? It doesn't concern you, so leave it alone." Her spoon clattered against the countertop loudly. The water in the pot started to bubble. "I don't wanna tell you jack shit, even though jack shit didn't happen that night, and if you can't fucking deal with being outcasted, then leave my house and hang out with your other friends to sober up."
Everything she said was registered, but not reacted upon. Zamasu figured her defense didn't come from wanting to personally target him, but she wanted him to lose his patience so that she could continue to 'cope' on her own. He didn't want to fight, he just wanted her to open up. "Are you really upset over me asking you if you are okay?"
His voice was calming, he was making no point to attack her but Irene didn't want a compromise. She wanted to win. "You don't actually care."
"If I didn't," The Kaioshin tilted his head, "I wouldn't have said anything."
"Yes you would, you're doing so right now." She brought up their past transgressions. "You think you could go from ignoring me for being problematic, to suddenly wanting to play reliable with me? I dunno if you're aware, but that shit doesn't add up; you're just curious." Irene shrugged to concur with herself, the pot now reaching a rolling boil. "That's all it is, if I even had something of importance to share with you, you'd only be satisfied from knowing!"
Irene's phrasing sounded weird, but if he deduced it correctly, she was trying to call him shallow. In this case, unlike most of her cases in the past, he actually wanted her to say something so that he can solicit actual help to her. Irene cannot see that, and to be fair, he doesn't blame her.
"You've spent most of your days after that party not eating, you hermit yourself in your art gallery, you spoke to nobody outside of me and your sister as of recent, and you've been malnourished for an entire month, Irene. Do you really think," Zamasu stood up from his seat, "that I would sit back and watch you live like this? I called out your drinking habits, not to spite you, but because you were harming yourself. I do not stand by the destruction of an individual, even if I 'don't like them'. You're dying from whatever had you hurt, you think I'd walk around here without wanting to know what caused this, and without wanting to fix it?"
"You can't fix me!" She cried out, her voice cracking even against her own volition. The water became a raging torrent, but Irene did not turn off the stove. "I've had my fucking heart broken, and my dignity…" Her bottom lip wobbled for a split second as her cheeks grew hot with grief, "I'm not some patchable doll that you can just mend together, I can't be fucking 'fixed'!" Her chocolate eyes started to tear, but she fought against it. "I don't deserve it, for all the trouble I caused, and all the people I hurt just because of something so short-lived. It's the karma and comeuppance I deserved for being so fucking stupid, I just…"
The artist held a canvas of repressed emotion, painted by her stressed facial features that were once drained and tired. Irene looked so vulnerable, with uncontrollable hot tears trailing down her face after she stopped speaking. She wiped them away quickly, unable to face the sympathetic God because she felt so pathetic; in her mind, now that she outed herself, all she did was insult the Kaioshin in hopes that he'd abscond her curtly. Now that she was starting to cry, Irene could imagine he had walked away at this very moment, left her to her own devices. This was the 'coping mechanism' that she was granted, and that she deserved.
Instead of hearing the churning of her pot grow even more violent, she heard the dial being turned, and the water simmered. Almost immediately after that, she felt two strong, warm arms encased her small body, her head pressed against a toned chest before a hand rested against her wild, curly head. It was instinctual, the way her own hands gripped the fabric on the back of his gi, and how her body seemed to fall right into him.
Irene didn't want to look at him because her face was stained with tears and snot. "Why are you hugging me?"
"Why else? You're sobbing." Zamasu looked down at her, his chin barely resting on her head. "Whatever he did, has been hurting you, Irene. You've been tormented for way too long."
Tormented… That was such a good word to use for the mental beatings she gave herself. Zamasu himself already knew what she was crying about, and god did it feel good to hear her cry, to hear her let out all those bottled up emotions, to see a release.
They stayed that way for a while, neither of them spoke, the sounds of Irene's sniffling filtered through the kitchen. Zamasu's upper sleeve had tiny stains by the time she pulled her face up to barely look at him. She looked down at his chest and his upper sleeve with a sheepish face. "I'm sorry."
"It is fine." Zamasu shook his head. "I'd rather you cry on me than not."
Her eyes looked bigger than usual. "So, you know what I was-"
"I understood what you meant." He nodded. "It shows in your subconscious."
Her breath was still shaky, she still remained in his arms. A faint longing made itself known the more she was aware of Zamasu's height, and his taut build. There was always something protective about being in a man's arms, and this man in particular was nothing short of comforting.
"But you can you not strangle me, please?"
Zamasu's voice sounded a little strained, because Irene's arms were tightly wrapped around his torso. The afro-haired artist blinked twice before she look up at him, sheepishly giggling. "My bad..."
He sighed at her, seeing her mood lighten up a bit. Irene, despite getting quite enough hours of sleep, looked like she was in need of a nap. It didn't necessarily show in her face, but her eyes reeked of exhaustion. "Go sit down." He tapped her arm lightly. "I'll take care of everything else."
Irene watched the Kaioshin walk over to her. "You don't know how to make mac and cheese, Zamasu."
"I believe I do." He'd cast a look in her direction. "I have learned quite a lot in my time being here."
"But you don't know how to make my mac and cheese." Irene was besides him, away from the water pot which he had reheated again. "I have a specific procedure on how to make it."
"I don't need your procedure." Zamasu smiled at her. "A God's hand in anything blesses the aliment with purity."
Irene shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Geez, corny…"
"Yeah, yeah, now go lay down." The Kaioshin watched as Irene 'begrudgingly' stalked off upstairs and to her room. She looked a lot less weighted as she did so, he watched her gait and noted how her steps were less adamant, less angry, and he knew that she was smiling after her silly groan.
"Sure thing, Wasabi." Irene had to get that in, just to sour him up a bit more as she went up the stairs to relax.
It felt good, to hear her call him names again. Where it used to make his eye twitch, Zamasu found himself exhaling in relief. It showed that Irene was coming back to being herself; he didn't care how long that would take though, as long as she showed improvement for the better.
He spilled the macaronis into the boiling pot, a bit more eager to feed the healing artist now that she found retribution.
••••••••••
The next day, Chandler decided to contact Naz before Ethan's theorem seminar as he'd call it, since the seminar had started after everyone's working hours. The AI male could practically see how the patissiere nearly jumped out of his baker apron over the news; he was beyond ecstatic to know that his daughter was not barred from physically seeing him. A piece of him could relinquish that glee, for Chandler knew he held an affinity towards the girl and was just as stoked to potentially see her reunite with her father again.
That's literally one of two of the things Chandler would deny he held affinity for: her and Genyne. The only two individuals that could drastically lighten his mind and mood.
It was currently a little bit after Ethan explained his theorem to the band of mathematicians and engineers alike, and despite his initial anxiety, the young man got through with it in a shy demeanor. There were thirteen people in the boardroom sitting as Ethan presented to them: him, Avery and Evan were obvious contenders, followed by a few high end mathematicians, Kraut, Samson, and Tina to name a few, and two of Chandler's Hyperion buddies Kandrid, and Amethyne because she is comprised of magnets so this would be her 'jive', as she'd call it. Luckily for Ethan, the room was so well insulated that his timid voice was heard by everyone.
His findings on magnetism were, as expected, obscure, but Ethan brought upon a narrative that had the Rose Corp strongheads chatting with one another whenever he paused; there were questions asked, discussions being had, all of which while the CEO listened and watched everyone intently. Ambrose's eyes were especially on Ethan. The superengineer always managed to look way more intimidating than he actually was by merely watching people do anything, but Chandler saw how happy he truly was to see Ethan open up a bit more. The yellow AI watched Ambrose, as Ethan concluded his statement, hold the smile on his face like a proud father to his son.
Chandler understood Ambrose's behavior towards Ethan. Ethan stumbled upon grand opportunities that he didn't feel worthy of, not to mention he was fairly innocent and Ambrose has super parental tendencies.
It was currently 10 at night, the people who stayed were bidding farewells and leaving, while Ethan sat at his desk 'looking for stuff'. Chandler knew he was trying to act busy so nobody would confront him and tell him how 'bad' his theorems were, despite the positive reception in the boardroom. The AI went up to him anyway.
"That was great."
It took a moment before Ethan paused, his head was under the table and it stayed there when he responded: "Huh?"
"Your theorem. It posed a lot of possibilities to look forward to." Chandler tilted his head. "Ambrose even considered putting your concepts up for testing."
This is where Ethan bumped his head on the bottom of the table before falling off of his seat and holding the back of his cranium. The young man cursed at himself, and looked up at the AI trying to hide his smirk. "R-really?"
Chandler nodded. "Yeah."
"But what I said was not… cohesive, like; it made no sense."
"It made a lot of sense to the rest of us." Chandler went around his desk and extended a hand to help the man up. "It makes a lot of sense to you, but you downplay it."
Ethan didn't directly answer that, but he did look at the ground. All these insane opportunities were knocking at his doors and windows at the same time, how was he supposed to act calm and confident in such a ruckus? "Is Ambrose still here?"
"He left a few minutes ago." Chandler handed the man his jacket, noting how Ethan stopped 'searching' for things now that he was putting it on. The image of the golden eyed man's smile played in Chandler's head; that was the kind of smile he hadn't seen in a long time. Sure, Ambrose is one of those people who were beacons of happy grins, but there was something special about the way he smiled at Ethan and his proposals.
The only time Chandler saw a smile like that was when Ambrose used to nanny Alma as an infant.
"Oh…" Ethan could have exhaled; he was lucky his boss wasn't around, he was still mentally queasy at the thought of seeing his handsome face. The whole time though, Ethan was not looking at Ambrose, so he couldn't see the CEO's face at all.
Chandler realized this from the way Ethan had picked his things up, and gave the AI a quick nod in farewell. Chandler turned around as Ethan walked around him. "He is very proud of you and what you came up with."
That stopped Ethan in his tracks. He turned to Chandler think he had something to say but… nothing came out for the first two seconds. A sea of emotions made itself present in Ethan, he didn't know how to feel about that. That was way too much validation in one week.
So, like a genius, he replied half mindedly with: "Thanks." And then proceeded to close his eyes and nearly facepalm himself. That sounded wrong because Chandler said Ambrose said that, why the heck should he thank Chandler? Maybe he should thank him to relaying that information, but a simple thanks couldn't show how much gratitude he held for that, could it? What if he had to say more? What if he sounded cocky? He didn't want to sound cocky, especially in the face of his boss, because that would be bad, but how was he supposed to save himself from this response?
"You're welcome." Chandler had a smirk on his face, and Ethan frowned at him before pursing his lips, awkwardly nodding, and exiting the joint room with a head full of anxiety. Amazing…
With the budding admin now gone, Chandler was left alone. Kandrid and Amethyne phased out of Rose Corp, that he knew, and no one was currently in the joint room so he went to his office. His ceptors noted Nousha calling him during the seminar, but he decided to return her call. Laxed back against his cloud chair, he waited for the gunslinger to answer.
And she did, after the first ring: "What the heck did you tell my brother?"
The woman didn't even greet him, for crying out loud. "I feel greatly insulted, Nousha. Not even a 'good day' from you, or anything?"
He could feel her eye roll. Nousha groaned. "Hello, good day, how are you doing, what did you tell my brother this evening?"
"Thank you." Chandler thought that Nousha would be the first to know but he did call Naz as he was returning home from work. "You didn't know?"
"I was home all day, and he came some time ago." Nousha plopped down on her couch. "Dude, when I tell you he looked like he was gonna cartwheel throughout the living room- I didn't understand a word he was saying, he was so ecstatic." A pause. "Is it about my niece?"
"Took you way too long to put the pieces together."
"Man, shut up." Nousha meanmugged into the phone, as if the AI could actually see her. "He could see Alma again? Was the order released?"
"It was actually released in the same year that Naz divorced his wife." Chandler heeded her silence on the other hand. "So technically, you guys was left in the dark about this stuff. I know right? I'm just as shocked as you."
"...Wh-" Nousha shook her head. "You mean to tell me that… she had placed that shit on my brother, and lifted it without telling us?" She got really angry; this damned woman risked having her own daughter separated from her father and getting her hurt due to alcohol problems… only to lift it and not tell her own father? Nousha knew, from the non-physical encoutners she had with Alma, that Naz's wife developed a drinking problem and became abusive. Did she think Naz would do anything worse than what she has done? How selfish could she possibly be? This was coming from someone who Nousha found to be rather open minded and understanding of the folly-filled world around her.
Chandler could feel the static starting to rise on his end, and he started to panic as Nousha continued to speak. "She had him worried sick, the damned bitch! He developed sleeping problems when Alma was separated from him and Andrea- yes I said her name," The gunslinger previously sworn to never utter her name over the turmoil she caused, "Thought it'd be smart to revoke it and not contact her ex-husband, at least to actually take care of their child?"
"Nousha, please calm down." Chandler spoke in a quiet voice, because… her anger was causing electrical interferences and the last thing Chandler wanted to see was anyone in Ambrose's family when they were angry. Those people could cause a storm, dare he say literally. "My head is starting to hurt."
Nousha took a deep breath, it would be against her judgement to be furious. She didn't want this house to crumble as well. "I'm sorry, it's just…" She shook her head. "You already know how I feel about substance abusive parents; that's what separated me from Naz for years, and his human mother put him through hell…" In the thirty five years she has been on this planet, Nousha hadn't even spent half that time with her younger brother. She lived in Tsvannanee with their father while Naz was in Efilia with their mother, and they both were raised under different conditions after their parents separated. Nousha was raised with love and understanding, homeschooled just like her supergenius cousin and lived the classic Ananesian childhood of tending to the family farm. Naz was abused, had to fight his way out of his hellhole home and lost so much of his dignity in his earlier years, the years when Nousha didn't get to see him. They had only reconnected 12 years ago when the last Nousha had seen of her brother was when he was three, and she remembered how hard the both of them cried on each other's arms that night. Both him, and Ambrose had been through hell, though she wouldn't want to begin in the case of her baby cousin, because he was also separated from his family, and that stuff kills, no matter how young you are.
"I don't want to see that shit happen to my baby niece, alright?"
"Neither do I." Chandler could wince at Nousha's adamant tone if he were human. "And I doubt that would happen, she's living on her own quite well." That was what he gathered from what Amrose told him. If this were a regular child, both of them would be flipping bananas. "You know this already, I'm sure. There's no need to trip."
"I do, but I'm protective over my loved ones." Especially because the two closest to her have lost the most. "Since when do you speak East Side slang?"
"Since I met Evan. How else would I know?" Chandler shrugged.
She chuckled a little. There was a pause on both ends, Nousha was thinking about her niece, and that giant smile of hers that resembled her father's. The gunslinger shook her head. "I can't wait to see her again…" Then, when the other end was silent Nousha threw a face. "Chandler, you know damn well you miss your little buddy too."
It was true, he missed Alma greatly. "I am quite impartial, but I am glad that you do miss your niece."
"Don't evade what I said."
"I'm not; I just said it doesn't hold much sentiment to me, like almost everything. I am artificial, you know." Chandler spoke clearly, but he's lying out of his metal ass.
Nousha knew this, so she decided to spite him with a simple insinuation that should kept him impartial ass as is. "Like Genyne."
He instantly got defensive. "What are you talking about?"
"Ohhhh, nothing, it's just…" Nousha waved her hand, her smirk threatening to break into laughter. "Word goes 'round, Chandelier."
"What word? Who told you anything?" The yellow AI sat up in his chair. "There is nothing going on between me and Genyne, you all just jump to conclusions."
"Why are you getting defensive though?"
"I'm not getting defensive." Chandler can feel the hypocrisy dripping out of his response but he couldn't help it. "I am just telling you that AIs cannot intermingle."
"Yes the fuck they can, I've seen a few metal couples here and there in South City." She wagged a finger. "Don't be prudish, it can happen."
It's not like Chandler wants that to happen either. How the AIs perceive connection is different from Desnian humans, so in a sense he and Genyne do have that kind of bond. AIs don't need to smoosh their faces together or share body fluids to consulate a relationship, even something as simple as physical touch basically meant 'Yup, they're a thing'.
Or maybe Chandler was just in denial, as the other Hyperions would say. They all peep him and Genyne too, so Chandler was cornered on all levels.
"Sure." Was all he said, he didn't leave any room for exploring the topic further. "Do call me when Alma is pulling Naz's pink hair again. I'd like to take witness."
Nousha tssked in his dismissal. "I will. I'm su-"
Naz came hopping down the stairs, fresh out of a shower and now in a clean leisure outfit, but he had his sneakers on. "Nousha, I am going to the Northern outskirts."
"Naz, can you please wait a moment? Let her reunite with you in a normal fashion, she's probably asleep." Nousha stood up because Naz was already trying to head out the door. She grabbed his forearm. "We will go see her tomorrow, genius."
"Is that Naz?" Chandler asked, before Nousha had put him on speaker. "Naz, relax; Alma will see you when it is actually bright out."
"So now you two are barring me from wanting to see my daughter?" Naz eyed both Nousha's phone and her. He wasn't upset, his excitement was so un-contained that he couldn't even be angry. "I don't care if it's three in the morning, I have to see her."
In an emotional standpoint, he was right; he had not seen Alma in over a year. All three of them knew Alma was fine, it wasn't like the girl was in danger being alone. She can fend for herself, and Naz in his excitement was also extremely protective.
"Naz, go sleep; I'm sure Ambrose will bring her to you tomorrow." Nousha turned to her phone. "Does he know?"
There was a pause, because Chandler was messaging the supergenius at the moment. "He does now."
"Perfect." Nousha smiled. "Alright, Chandler, I'll leave you to it while I try to calm Mr. Cookies down."
"Don't call me that, you idiot!" Naz removed her hand from him, feeling insulted. "That is not the only thing I can bake."
Chandler shook his head; he'll let the two siblings bicker all night on their own. "Alright. Goodnight, you two. Don't break anything." He left an inside joke to the two and didn't regard Nousha's next comment as he leaned back in his chair.
She basically said 'Goodnight: Say hi to your girlfriend for me' while Chandler ended the call without a word.
Given that was one weight lifted off of a fellow human's shoulders, now he felt more comfortable with the prospect of Alma hopping into Rose Corp every now and then. However, his happy face started to simmer as Nousha's cutoff response sunk deeper and deeper into his thoughts. What is it with everyone thinking he had an inkling for Genyne when they were both Hyperions? Hell, they didn't need that level of communication as much as humans did, they weren't made for that lovey-dovey shit.
So, to ease off the stupid annoyance he had over Nousha's presumption, over everybody's presumption, he opened another contact log and called Genyne on the spot.
l‾l•l‾l•l‾l•l‾l•l‾l•l‾l•l‾l•l‾l•l‾l•l‾l•l‾l
Well, well… This chapter was pretty tame.
A bit of backstory to Nousha and Naz was given here; Naz especially had to make a bit of money to get away from his home life, and that meant being promiscuous (mostly due to his effeminate looks). He developed a more raw take on the human race after his own experiences, but unlike how most humans being react, he accepts that non-Mystic humans are turbulent, lusty beings, and that goes beyond sex.
Looks like Zamasu has made peace with Irene. It has been a month and a week since the incident and Irene was lucky to have a supporting ear like him, not to mention his influence goes beyond the verbal. It will be a new dawn for their understanding of each other.
However, note that Zamasu thought Irene was going back to being normal… Can that spell a bad thing for them in the next chapter?
Where do you think Rebecca is at the moment? What could she be doing? What could James be doing? How do you feel about this story so far?
See you guys on the next one :)
