paixaorpg | Call It What You Want [Active]

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Call It What You Want [Active]

Character(s): Vyers and Timon.
Content: The ongoings of an old married couple.
Setting: Palazzo Townhomes
Time: Early Morning.
Warnings: Appliance Abuse.

The last week had felt more like a test than anything else. The sudden abundance in snow, the lack of sleep and re-occurrence of nightmares had brought him to question how long he could continue to go on. Timon had felt its toll and as a result begun to slow down. He was still on the move, checking on his family and friends by travel through the elaborate tunnel system his mother had dug under the city but had caught himself having fallen asleep on numerous occasions along the way. It had gotten harder every day. Timon hoped there’d be an end to it all soon otherwise he too would have to make a break for the city gates and escape his guilty conscience.

This morning he had decided to return to his old residence in the Palazzo Townhomes where he found Pumbaa still fast asleep, no doubt dreaming of delicious grubs, especially when he kept mumbling about them. The meerkat smiled at the welcoming sight and glanced down the hallway at the bedrooms occupied by the demons and Gwen. It did not appear as though there were any signs of distress so he carried himself to the kitchen to fix himself a meal.

Waffles were easy. At this point he could practically make them with his eyes closed, though had yet to successfully master how not to make a mess. He could carry some extra down to his mother knowing she would be overjoyed just that he had thought of her. Of course, that was when he finally made his way back down to the tunnels. Halfway through making the mix, Timon had begun to doze off but not before he managed to make a mess of the kitchen first. Batter practically painted the countertop, spilling down to make a puddle on the floor while a trail of familiar footprints could be found leading straight to the perpetrator who had fallen asleep in a bowl nearby.

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It had been a long, long week. Vyers had taken to avoiding the mirror lately, not wanting to see what sort of frightful state he might be in. Nightmare after nightmare had assaulted him the very moment he began to drift off, and he didn't want to even think about what havoc these sleepless nights had wrought upon his beautiful face. Circles under his eyes, slightly frazzled hair (he had been too tired to fix it to its usual perfection, and his avoidance of mirrors likely didn't help matters either)... He must look have looked frightful.

That night was no different than the others. His eyes would close and the world would fall away only to be replaced by the sights and sounds of jeering crowds, calling out dreaded names that tortured him to his very core, ignoring his pleas for them to fall silent. That awful, horrible name, following him everywhere he went, called out by every man, woman, and child that passed him by! Even his dearest wife had fallen victim to the peer pressure exerted by all those who surrounded him! Calling, calling, all of them calling that dreaded name! Heaps of humiliation and agony tearing apart his poor heart!

Many a night had he awoken, screaming that his name was not Mid-Boss.

Many a night, Laharl had yelled at him to "shut the hell up."

And so, another nightmare leaving him wide awake, Vyers had caught sight of a small amount of light filtering in through the window. He had been awake till sunrise again. The demon sighed and dragged himself to his feet, shambling through the apartment and rubbing at his eyes. He wandered into the kitchen, somehow managing to not step in the batter puddles and pawprints on the floor as he went to peer through the cabinets in search of breakfast.

Then, all of a sudden, the proverbial lightbulb went off above Vyers' head, and his eyes widened as he looked back down, finally noticing the mess. "Wh-What happened here?!"

Vyers had probably been talking to himself but got a drowsy response none the less. “Waffles…” Timon mumbled, followed by a groan as he shifted in the bowl to look at the demon. Yet to have fully woken, his heavy eyes slowly opened and fixed themselves on Vyers for a moment then widened. The meerkat’s mouth opened and a scream was on the verge of working its way out, threatening to wake the other residents, before the bowl flipped over completely. Timon, hesitant to emerge from under it, was haunted by what he had seen: a zombie Vyers.

He wasn’t sure how it was possible. The idea of zombies alone was complete nonsense. The only thing that came even close were Nobodies. Though, they couldn’t possibly have smell nearly as bad as zombies. Assuming zombies smelt. They must have smelt. Did Vyers smell? Pausing to lift the bow, Timon checked for good measure. No, nothing short from the usual; the same womens rose scented perfume. Possibly even Gwens?

Lifting the bowl off, Timon marched over to the demon and looked up at him in return. “What the heck happened to you? I leave you for a week and this is what happens? I’ve seen hyenas will nicer mugs!”

Vyers was less than impressed, though hardly surprised, as he looked down at Timon, and he fixed the meerkat with a bleary glare. "I have been suffering from the same plague of nightmares as everyone else within this city," Vyers replied, shutting the door to the cupboard and turning his attention to the veritable catastrophy of batter covering the kitchen. How in the world was he going to clean all of this up? Why did they not have a lock on the doors to keep this from happening so often?

"I have done the best with what little amount of sleep I have been able to get." It was not his fault he had been unable to get his beauty rest lately.

Child locks would have been a wonderful idea, though surely annoying after awhile. Not to open them but rather hear the meerkat continuously whine whenever he was hungry. There was only so much one could take and no sooner than the locks would have gone on, they would be removed. That was a guarantee.

Timon, who had yet to take his eyes of Vyers raised a brow at the demons response. “Have you even looked in the mirror lately? Talk about nightmares. It’s no wonder Gwen can’t get any sleep, what with you lookin’ like that beside her.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “Unless, she’s exiled you to the couch again…”

Vyers made an affronted noise. "I am not the cause of any sleeplessness!" he quickly shot back, too tired to even add a compliment to himself in his protest. He decided to ignore the "looking in a mirror" comment, though he supposed he would admit that he should have freshened up at least a little before making his way into the kitchen. He always knew that the one day he didn't would be the one day that someone would be there.

"I just... need to brush my hair. That is all."

“I think you’re in need of more than a brushing.” Timon corrected him. He may have lacked his share of sleep as well but did not come even close to Vyers in looking the part. The dark circles under the demons spoke wonders. To elaborate on that, the meerkat brought his paws under his eyes and pulled them down to try and imitate the bags under Vyers’. Were he familiar with raccoon's he’d have cracked a joke regarding the demons likeness – unaware the closest thing to resemble the animals dark ringed eyes were his own.

“I’m making waffles.” He explained, gesturing to the mess as though Vyers had yet to lay eyes on it. “You want some?”

Vyers's frown only deepened at the demonstration, and he continued to insist under his breath that he only needed to fix his hair. He searched the room over for a brush to do the deed, only pausing when he heard Timon's question. For a moment Vyers stared at the mess, but eventually he just slumped a little, defeated. "Yes, I will take a couple."

While he didn't particularly like cleaning, he was going to need something to fill his time anyway.

“How’s everyone else sleeping?” Timon asked, all the while flicking the batter off his arm in annoyance before approaching the large bowl of mix had made prior to his nap. With Timon in the kitchen a couple always translated to far more than one could eat – unless of course it was Pumbaa accompanying him. The warthog’s appetite was fairly on par with his own.

Having had much practice, the meerkat poured the batter into their stove top waffle iron with little trouble. He glanced back at Vyers who appeared to be searching for something. If not a mirror, it was probably a comb. Timon offered a fork. “It sorta works like a comb.” He explained.

"A fork?" he questioned, giving the utensil an odd look. "You are aware that people use that for eating?" Whether or not it was clean, Vyers had no intention of putting something that he knew had been in someone's mouth in his hair. Though he did suppose he appreciated the effort. A little. "There should be a proper comb around here somewhere--ah." He pulled one out of the drawer he had been looking through and set to work, occasionally wincing as he hit a knot.

"Most seem to be getting as much sleep as I have. It has been a bit difficult." Whatever it was that was sending these nightmares to them, he hoped it ended soon. "Someone mentioned recently that there were no problems outside the city, did they not?"

Timon glanced from Vyers to the fork, brow raised as he studied it over. “Ah, they wash them too, don’t they? Or is that just you?” Being an animal, Timon could not have cared less regarding such a thing. The only thing that bothered him was when Pumbaa took a bite out of an insect then put it back. Not because it had been in his mouth, but rather Pumbaa had either sucked the guts out of it or eaten the head already; the best parts.

“Yeah, it was the doc.” He replied, placing the fork aside now that the demon had found himself a comb. “Er, the other doc. You know, the one with the glasses? ‘Course getting out ain’t nearly as easy as it used to, what with Marco putting some kind of ‘security’ at the gates now. Sheesh. For a guy who’d sure like to get rid of us he ain’t makin’ it easy for himself.”

Well, that "security" would be fairly easy for him to get past, Vyers imagined, but he could understand why many others would have difficulty with it. And he had to agree that it was rather strange that someone so bent on shooing them out of this place would instead choose to keep them all herded in one place. It didn't make any sense. But the mayor was still a native of Paixao, he supposed, and the people here were rather... simple, to put it lightly.

"It is becoming tempting to try," Vyers said wincing as he worked through another knot (just how much had he been turning in his sleep last night?). His expression turned thoughtful. "Awhile ago over the journals, you said the Netherworld was one of the worlds higher up, did you not?"

“Another world?” Timon asked, misinterpreting the name of Vyers’ home. It was true, he had been there but that didn’t mean he knew just what there was. They, Pumbaa and himself, had barely begun to explore the castle before they had been forced to return to Paixao. His knowledge was limited, as always.

“Well, sure. There are plenty of other worlds higher up. Unless…. there are even more down. But who’d want to go that way? We’re lookin’ on a way out, not deeper in, am I right?”

"Netherworld," Vyers corrected, "Where Laharl and I are from." And after a moment, "The world where you sat on my--the throne." Even knowing well that the throne was now in Laharl's hands, it was still difficult not to consider it as his after spending so long as its occupant. Surely he could be allowed a few slips of the tongue.

“Right, right.” He replied with little regard. Netherworld, Another World: they both had the sort of material to air as an afternoon soap. The meerkat waved carelessly at the demon and continued. “Nether. Whatever you wanna call it… Why do you want to know? If this about that big ol’ comfy chair of yours – or whoever’s - I told you already, I was guarding it. Someone had to keep it safe, what with it left unattended and all anyone could have taken it. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

Vyers frowned at the casual dismissal, but decided not to press the matter any further, knowing that he wasn't likely to have any luck. "I am curious," he explained, and suppressed a shudder at the thought of Timon taking up the Netherworld's throne. What a terrible day that would be... "You appeared within the castle, did you not? Where was it, exactly?"

Timon scratched his head and tried to recall the event. “It was in a room.” He answered. “A really big room. You’d think a sasquatch or something lived there.” Not that he really knew what, or rather, who Sasquatch was. If he did he certainly would not have assumed him to live in a castle. “Oh!” The meerkat snapped his fingers, another thought having come to mind. “There were these big things of fire too.”

Hopefully Vyers did not expect any useful information from the meerkat or he was about to be severely disappointed.

Vyers put his face in his hand and set the comb to the side. "You are going to have to be a little more specific," he mumbled. But that did tell him the door led to the castle itself, he supposed. That... could get a little awkward should he ever decide to visit. He shook his head and lifted it again to look at Timon. "Was there anyone there?"

“There were a bunch of monsters, specifically in the same room as that big comfy chair.” Timon was sure to put as much emphasis on the word as possible after Vyers’ request. “Actually, now that I think about it, there were three in there to be exact. They didn’t seem to mind me or Pumbaa bein’ there either. Why, they even gave me directions around the place. Talk about helpful.”

And Laharl had said his vassals were useless. Clearly he just did not know how to talk to them. Then again, it was impossible to not to fall for the meerkats charm. As far as Timon was concerned, anyway. “Why is it such a big deal?”

Helpful... Perhaps to Timon, but that hardly seemed helpful to Vyers at all. Aside from the one who gave directions around the castle, of course. At least one of them was doing their job. "That much I was only curious about. With some of the worlds in the other floors being empty, I was not sure whether the castle would be populated."

And that... was going to make everything much more complicated, wasn't it? He could choose to go home some time in the future, but then he would have to deal with explaining why a "mid-boss" was being allowed within the castle walls in the first place (nevermind the numerous times he had managed to slip within on his own).

Vyers sighed and put his chin in his hand, looking none-too-happy.

Timon hummed lowly in response, the vacancy of some in other worlds having reminded him of his own. He had always tried to forget his past, but after having found it erased completely, Timon had been faced with feelings even he could not have been prepared for. Guilt, anger… even heartbreak. He had never belonged there but at least it had been somewhere he could call home. Now, it seemed, he had nowhere. His roots; his family, they were gone. The place he had once called home had become nothing more than an empty dried up spot in the savannah. Once abundant with countless tunnels which had run beneath the earth, the ground looked untouched, as though no one had ever inhabited the spot.

Whoever’s memory of the Pride Lands it was, he wished never to see for himself how such had come to be. His imagination filled in the blanks again and again in his dreams, none other than himself held responsible for the fate that had befallen his colony. He had chosen their outcome, turned his back to them. Had he only gone back, could he have saved them?

Timon turned his back to Vyers, for one of the few times silent. With so much on his mind, his attention to what he was doing began to fade and soon the familiar smell of smoke began to fill the kitchen. It was only when the iron had caught ablaze did the meerkat come to realize what he had done. He gave out a high pitched cry in fright, the small fire he had started easily the size of him.

Edited 2012-02-25 18:00 (UTC)

Vyers couldn't really comment on Timon's silence. He had seen the meerkat asleep when he entered, and so Vyers assumed that the same lack of sleep that plagued them all was at the root of it. Vyers had had hi sown bouts of spacing out recently, after all.

That, in fact, was the very reason why it took a few moments for the gears in the demons' head to start turning when he smelled smoke, a few moments more for them to turn faster at the sight of smoke in the kitchen, and a single moment more on top of that for them to screech to a grinding halt at Timon's sudden scream.

"H-HOW LONG HAVE THOSE BEEN COOKING?!"

“HOW LONG TILL THEY STOP?!” the meerkat cried in return. It was a far more import question, especially when there was risk of the said flame spreading.

Timon stumbled back, nearly falling off the stove to avoid the small fire. He didn’t handle the threat well and in a situation where one was not to panic, he could be found doing everything but. If anyone were to be deemed responsible for putting out the flame, it would have to be Vyers on the account of the stupid meerkat being too afraid to draw near it. Not to mention that he had been responsible for it in the first place.

“Don’t just stand there, do something!” he continued to scream. It wouldn’t be long till the entire household was up – if they weren’t already. “Do anything!”

"IF YOU DIDN'T KNOW, WHY IN THE WORLD WERE YOU MAKING THEM?!"

Vyers tore through the cabinets in search of a pot, practically tearing one out of its wooden prison as soon as he found it. His eyes nervously darted back to the building flame as he filled the pot, and he quickly gave up once the pot was halfway filled to toss the water at the flames.

Luckily, that was enough to get rid of the majority, leaving only a few flecks of fire licking at the counter and the carpet. Vyers tore a dishtowel from nearby and shoved it into Timon's hand, yelling for him to smother the flames on the counter while he quickly moved to stomp out the flames on the carpet. "How in the world do you keep managing to catch our appliances on fire?!"

“The toaster was your fault!” Timon shot back, tossing the towel a top the flames before stomping on it. “I had nothing to do with that.” How typical of Vyers to blame him. This incident was equally as much the demons fault as his. Had Vyers been paying attention, he could have said something before the flames had spread and prevented the entire thing.

With a frustrated groan, the meerkat lifted the dishtowel and tossed it over another stray flame. He began to wonder if cooking really was worth the trouble it caused. Surely everyone who cooked themselves dealt with this sort of thing, right?

"I wasn't even in the room when the toaster caught alight!" he snapped, stomping out the last of the flames. With the crisis taken care of, Vyers let out an agitated huff and crossed his arms, scowling at the scorch marks in the kitchen. He was no doubt going to have to clean these up himself or else tell Gwen of their existence. Neither option sounded good, the latter only managing to seem worse by virtue of having to explain how they had gotten there in the first place.

At least the windows were still in place this time.

Timon shook his head, reluctant to give up. “Well you should have been watching it. How am I supposed to know how all this human stuff works?” People just expected him to know such things operated, as though he’d been around them as long as everyone else had. It was starting to get annoying. The toaster had worked fine when everyone else had used it but the slight suspicion that it had been defective or intentionally sabotaged by the Organization came to mind none the less.

“And before you say it,” the meerkat continued, wanting the last word. “If anyone should have to clean this up, it’s you.”

In all fairness, Vyers had about as much experience with the equipment in the kitchen as Timon. He was unused to cooking at all, much less with the appliances the city of Paixao had provided. He would never admit it, but he wasn't even sure how the waffle maker was supposed to work, either.

"You could at least help. You were the one who made the decision to make breakfast in the first place."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully, considering the idea. Vyers was partially right; he had been the first to considering the prospect of breakfast. Then again, a clean kitchen was of no concern to him. He had lived in a jungle, what did it matter if there was a little mix on the floors? There had to be something more in it for him.

“If I help you clean this,” he began. “Then you gotta find us somethin’ to eat. And it's got to be real food, nothin’ you ‘cooked up’ yourself. I have a sensitive stomach, you know.”

Why did everyone have to insult his abilities in the kitchen? He still was not very skilled in food preparation, true, but he wasn't hopeless by far, and he had certainly been getting better.

"...Very well then, we shall visit one of the restaurants in town. But only if you put in an equal share of work." He was not taking on this disaster alone.

“The same goes to you.” Timon replied. He didn’t want Vyers’ cutting any corners without him. If they were splitting the work, it had to be an honest fifty-fifty. He had stooped Pumbaa more than enough times to know when he himself was being played, at least to an extent. “Don’t think I won’t be watchin’ you.” He added, pointing at the demon accusingly.

With the dishtowel he had been given still in hand, the meerkat turned away to begin scrubbing the countertop before pausing. “Hey, Vyers?” Timon looked back over his shoulder at Vyers, his tone softer than usual. “How much longer you think we’re gonna be stuck here?”

Vyers took a rag of his own, wetting it and setting to work at the scorch marks, which... wasn't going well. He eventually gave up and tried to wipe up the batter.

"In Paixao, you mean?" Vyers asked, pausing in his cleanup efforts to look back at Timon. It wasn't often the meerkat took that tone.

Timon rolled his eyes and draped the dish towel over his shoulder. “No, Rome.” He replied sarcastically. “Of course I mean Paixao.” Sometimes Vyers could be so thick headed Timon could swear Pumbaa had rubbed off on the demon. “I mean, don’t you ever…?” Trailing off, the meerkat looked from Vyers to the ground and sighed. “Ah, never mind.” He shook his head and turned away, returning to cleaning the counter top.

“Hurry up so we can eat already, would you?” Timon called to him. “I’m starved!”

Vyers was quiet a moment as he worked on the batter that had somehow gotten onto the walls. "...Yes. I do sometimes miss home. But at the same time, there are certain things here that I have, that I could never have there." He paused, stopping his cleaning for the moment and staring at the wall. "Sometimes it is difficult for me to decide what I want to do."

And sometimes he wondered just what he stood to lose.

He too had stopped scrubbing, surprised by the response he had received. Timon had not expected that. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Sheesh, Vyers was starting to read him as well as Pumbaa now too. He hummed at the thought, using one large movement to wipe the counter clean.

“Yeah…” the meerkat replied, his smile evident in his voice. There were so many people he had met, friends he never thought he’d make and heights that he’d reached that he had never thought possible. Timon looked up from his cleaning in thought. “We’ll have the occasional postcard but if we ever get outta this crazy place, you think we’ll ever see each other again?”

Vyers thought about that for a moment. "I suppose that would depend on whether or not the coordinates to your world could be found. Perhaps finding whatever Netherworld is connected to yours may be a better choice." He nodded. "Mn. It's very likely that we would, I think." It might take awhile, but he couldn't see it taking too terribly long. It was just a matter of sorting through it all.

“Coordinates.” Timon repeated slowly, unfamiliar with the word. He imagined it had something to do with space. Laharl and the Doctor had tried to explain that to him once, the universe and other universes – keywords being tried – but most of that had failed to stick to the meerkat. It was all simply too much. Though, how he seemed to grasp the concept of being trapped in a castle so easily was a mystery.

“What do you mean?” he asked, unable to follow the demon. “I thought you were from another or whatever world.”

"I suppose... Hm. The directions as to where your world would be. On a very large scale. And then those directions are given to a portal that you then step through, and you are in that world." He hoped that explained things well enough. With Timon, it was difficult to tell whether or not the explanation was getting through.

The blank look Vyers received in return spoke volumes of Timon’s understanding. Or, rather his lack thereof. “Poor tails?” he scratched his head, unsure how ones tail could possibly matter in regards to traveling from one world to another. “But you don’t have a tail. Actually, now that I think of it, none of you do except Flonne. Is she the only one who can visit other worlds?”

"Ah, no. 'Portals.' They look like giant, swirling gateways of light," Vyers explained. "It has nothing to do with whether or not one has a tail. We use them to reach places far away in an instant." It was the easiest way to explain it, he supposed, without going into more of the details behind the dimensional gates and the gatekeepers that worked them, especially as he was no expert on them himself.

Edited 2012-03-27 23:48 (UTC)

Gateways of light, eh? Gateways like the gates they had passed through to enter the city or…? No, the ones they had used to travel up the castle. Timon recalled them as being enormous, especially those between floors. That must have been what he had been referring to. He returned to tapping his chin as he spoke.

“Sorta like the doors here, right? Well, maybe not with the whole reaching of the far off places but that’s impossible! No one can be someone in an instant. Not unless they’re already there, anyway.”

He "hm"ed thoughtfully. "They are not entirely like the ones within this castle. They are circular for the most part, though I suppose it could be possible to put them into some sort of frame." It sounded plausible anyway. "But the doors here are similar enough to compare, only instead of reaching a memory of a distant land you are truly there. If you are not willing to believe it to be in an instant, then perhaps I could say you reach where you wish to go in the time it takes for you to step through the dimensional gate."

“Ah, I still don’t believe it.” The meerkat replied. He was stubborn and as much as he hated to admit it, terribly old fashion. There was no better way of transportation than by foot for him. Flight was great, and looked fun, but far too nerve-racking for a land-dwelling mammal. “It just isn’t possible. You can keep your ‘demon potential’ gates. When they build a bridge between our two worlds, then I’ll use that.”

Vyers could try to explain the improbability of such bridge but it would likely fall on deaf ears. If only it truly were that simple, a common bridge built between worlds… But, perhaps there was a reason they were kept separate from another, that they were best left that way.

Timon slung the dishtowel the demon had handed him over his shoulder and admired his work. Even for someone who lived in a jungle, he could not help but appreciate a clean space. “There! All finished.” He looked over his shoulder at Vyers, “You just about done over there?”

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Call It What You Want [Active]

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He has learned from the toaster.

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