psychoshenanigans | Goodnight // AU

Entry tags:

coil,
zhas

Goodnight // AU

Zhas loves Halloween. And Zhas doesn't really love anything, so that's saying something.

The lights, the sounds, every painted face and every bizarre mask... The way everyone runs around, drinking and laughing at fairies and zombies alike. It's kind of ironic that the biggest holiday for vampires is also the one day a year that he refuses to do any work, often completely shedding his persona in favor of pretending to be something like a normal person.

He's gone halfway, now that he's convinced Coil to come. He's still mostly himself, but he's talking more. He interacts with people who approach him, he smiles strangers claps him on the shoulder for how kickass his face paint is. And he has to talk for Coil, of course, getting him things or explaining to strangers that try to ask the kid what he's supposed to be. It's usually a "joke" about him being a one-eyed, silent necromancer dressed up as a respectable gentleman, followed by waving him off as some obscure movie character if they don't have the right sense of humor for that sort of thing.

But while he has his fun, drinks up the sights, wanders plainly in the streets like he belongs there... He pays a lot of attention to Coil, too. Makes sure he's well-informed, makes sure not to take him anywhere he hasn't already been, tries to treat him to things he might like... Lets him explore anything he seems to have an interest in, hopes he doesn't come off like some pandering babysitter about the whole thing.

But really, after three or four drinks, Zhas's ability to worry about it completely vanishes. It isn't until after midnight that he finally settles them down somewhere, dragging Coil over to the little park in the middle of town and letting them collapse onto a bench for a little while. It's not a whole lot quieter--the place is filled with brave children playing hide and seek, teenagers negotiating candy trades, adults drunkenly trying to remember where they parked their cars--but it's sitting, and it's nice to have less immediate stimulation for a minute.

That, and to finish his drink. Zhas doesn't actually remember how he got this one out of the bar. But he's still holding it, and it's delicious, so he should finish it.

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His steps are kind of small and everything, since Coil's so short.

Thinking about it, he gives Coil kind of an unhelpful shrug in the shoulder. If it wasn't obvious that he thought the whole thing was funny before, he tries to sign out with his free hand that he could carry Coil there if he wants.

Coil's not finding the humor in this yet, apparently. The shrug irks him, and the helpful offer definitely makes it worse.

He tries to shrug into Zhas in retaliation, but is still kind of roped by the arm that is attached to that shoulder... so he just ends up jostling them both a little dangerously.

All right, all right. After he staggers a little, correcting them both back to the way that they were, he at least tries to get that smug, self-satisfied look off his face.

Luckily the place he was thinking of (and thank god he went in the right direction) is very close to the park, one of the many little vendors set up to keep people happy and make a quick buck in the process. Cheap beer, cheap food, that kind of thing. Zhas lets go of Coil near one of the temporary folding tables, hopes he'll find his own way down into a seat, and wanders up to get them a couple of bottled waters.

Oooh, they have hot dogs. That sounds good too.

And Coil is, once again, very thankful to be sitting down. Especially when he finds that he drops into the little folding chair harder than he means to.

Once there, he can calm down a bit. Which is a little odd, being that he hadn't realized that he'd even needed to do any calming down in the first place. He just feels a little rattled; it had snuck up on him.

So he's overall better by the time Zhas is heading back to the table. Slightly more used to things, looking a bit less touchy--arms folded on the table with chin resting down.

He appears again on the nearest table. Not in the chair, no. Sitting on top of the table, crossing up his too-long legs and leaning forward to hand Coil one of the two bottles.

He was going to get food, but then he decided not to, because he needed to ask Coil something. But now that he's here, he'd already forgotten what the question was, so it must not have been very important.

He's really got to fix his eye on that bottle before he reaches for it. Depth perception is mysteriously more difficult to judge right now. Once he's got it, though, he carefully works through downing about a third of it in one go.

And a moment after that is when it finally hits him that he hasn't really inspected their surroundings yet. He suddenly unnerves himself with this thought, and it results in some clumsy and paranoid-seeming glances around him. Noting where people are, the layout of the area, really trying hard to focus on what's all around them.

But... he's supposed to be relaxing, right? It's still an impossible concept for him to grasp. So, with one hand occupied with the water bottle, he tries to ask Zhas if they're really not supposed to be working right now? Is he sure?

While Coil focuses on what's around them, Zhas focuses in on Coil. Stares at him, really, mostly looking at his face and his features and the way he moves. He hasn't looked at Coil like that in a long time, actually--not since he met him.

But then he's got a question being put towards him and he has to stop staring to pay attention. He gestures back, both hands free, that yes. They are supposed to not be working right now. It's the one day a year he gets to do it. Zhas puts a heavy and almost hilarious emphasis on that one. It's really important. There's like three hundred and sixty-five days in a year, and just ooooone of those is to enjoy himself.

He rolls his eyes again. Coil's being such a kid.

Though he messily and begrudgingly signs that they could go back, or find a place to crash for the night, if Coil really wants... Since it's getting kind of late anyway. For normal people.

One day-- okay, okay, he gets it.

Which again puts him in the weird place between looking forward to it being over, and still wanting to somehow take advantage of it while he can. Not that he has any idea on how else to do that or anything.

So, he kind of slurs his way through a few different signs. He only has one speaking hand, he only mostly gets through each thought, and he kind of flattens out more on the table as he talks, so... Zhas might not catch any of it.

There is maybe a question about what time it is, and something about being hungry. And maybe something about sleeping, but it might have been said in the negative. ...Maybe. It's hard to tell.

... You are drunk, he signs again.

No, he shakes his head. But he's still kind of laying on the table when he does it, so he hoists himself onto his elbows after so he can shake his head again--more insistently.

Nevermind the fact that shaking his head makes him way dizzy. He's not drunk.

But you know who is drunk? Zhas. Who he's then pointing accusingly at.

Whoooa, now he's getting uppity. The way Zhas raises his hands up in surrender like that, smirking again--well, it hasn't been the first time he'd given up. Probably wouldn't be the last. Drinking kind of puts him on this repeating cycle.

But he reaches forward to ruffle his bangs again anyway. The only part of his hair that can really be ruffled without causing much ruin to the rest of his look.

He swats for his hand automatically, and it's at least a far more well-aimed strike than a typical drunken flailing. He might be intoxicated, but he's still got deeply-ingrained muscle memory on his side.

Though, if he does actually smack his hand out of the way, he'll be surprised about it. It happens before he thinks about it.

But, whatever. He stands by it.

Zhas looks a little surprised too, but in a good way. He might not have been so polite about it if he was sober, but then... Coil probably wouldn't have smacked his hand away if he were sober, either. Or he would have at least thought about it a little longer.

Hah, well. He's not done bothering him anyway. He reaches down into something in his coat, motioning vaguely for Coil to hold still with his other hand. A second later he's got something from a container smeared on his finger, and he's trying to reach forward and swipe Coil's face with it. He's going for his nose, since it's the easiest target.

Being that he just smacked Zhas when he didn't strictly mean to, he's not expecting whatever Zhas has to be particularly good.

So, he goes leaning back when Zhas comes for him, trying to keep distance between them long enough to figure out what he's got. It doesn't work, though, and he quickly runs out of leaning room.

He's got a grip on the table to keep himself upright, but neither himself nor the chair he's in have enough balance to keep that up. So, once he wobbles dangerously back once, he stops. And Zhas swipes him.

Totally confused, he reaches up to feel... what he just did...

Zhas nearly falls off the table himself, but that's neither here nor there once he clutches the edge of the table and pushing himself back up to sitting.

It's just black, oily paint. Depending on how much Coil pays attention, he might recognize it as the stuff that Zhas puts on his face--though he'll point that out to Coil soon, gesturing and showing him the contents of the container.

He starts to offer to paint his face, but the gesture gets lost and confused and really wobbly. So he stops. Waits a second. Tries it again, much more clear. And more of a statement.

He signs 'why'--and it's a very pointedly-signed word--but he's already sitting up straighter, not leaning back so much. And even though he's still messing with the makeup, kind of smudging it around in a bleary sort of curious manner, he's also maybe looking for a way to scoot his chair closer without tipping it over.

Oh, good. He waits for Coil to try and figure himself out, drunkenly figuring out how to explain himself too. Why so interested in painting his face? ...Besides the part where he thinks it'd be funny.

But the gist of what he ends up signing is that this way, Coil can have a face too. Just for tonight. Maybe a costume?

And the last bit's said with an odd quirk of a smile, like he doesn't really believe it himself. Like he's making fun of the idea, perhaps. He follows it up with insisting that he'll do a good job and leaning forward to paint more on Coil's nose.

He flinches a little and vaguely frowns, but tries to sit still. ...And he'd probably do a decent job of it if he wasn't almost immediately trying to sign at the same time.

He still doesn't understand. And does that mean they're staying out longer? Also, does that mean that he thinks Coil needs a face?

That's a lot to take in, and he's trying to really focus on painting. A lot of things should be working against him, here: coil's fidgeting, using his fingers instead of a proper brush, and the fact that he's still pretty drunk. But you don't paint a skull on your face for a decade without getting pretty fucking good at it. While it won't be his personal best, it'll be better than most of the other teenage weirdos who decided to paint their faces tonight.

He switches to a different paint, a larger container. That's the white. That should come next, before he does the eyes and the mouth--but he's stuck trying to think really hard about one of the things that Coil tried to say. The only thing that stuck.

Oh. His answer.

Does Coil think he needs a face? That's the only part that's important. But tonight, this is just playing. It's sharing.

And it's something very important to him, but Zhas doesn't mention that part. He's too busy smearing white all over Coil's face.

Playing, sharing. He was going to further question it, but then there is paint being smoothed over his face, and that in itself is enough to get him to shut up. He automatically stills, lowers his hands, and is forced to just think for a minute.

And he thinks through a couple of different things. It's a slow, drunken path of thoughts, and he finds his eye wandering with them.

His gaze ends up settling on Zhas' face, of course. Looking at the painting he'd done earlier, and wondering what something like that would end up looking like on his own features. It's hard to imagine that Zhas would really...

But it's just playing. He said that already.

Theeeere we go. White on, then back to black. The little teeth are his favorite part, though he has to use his nail to get it right--he tries not to do anything intentionally painful. Just little scrapes across his lip, getting the lines close enough to look good.

The eye part's his second favorite, and he's really careful around Coil's eye, since eyes are rather sensitive and Coil's got half as many as most people. The eyepatch, though... He...

"...Hm."

It was fine until he got to the side where Coil doesn't actually have an eye. He decides to just kind of mark around it, get as close to it as he can... figures people will get the gist of it.

When he's done, he pulls out his little mirror so that Coil can look. Skull face, see?

His staring is finally interrupted when it comes time to really paint his mouth. Despite the alcohol, he's still a little touchy. The line of his mouth presses flat, which probably helps while Zhas draws in those little teeth.

The eye is almost worst, though. He needs to take a moment, take a little breath, before he shuts it.

And then it's done in no time, and there's a mirror for him to see.

It's a shock to see it. He straightens up in his seat, takes the little mirror so he can really get a good look. Turning his face one way and the other, tilting so he can see how Zhas drew the line of his skull-teeth and cheekbones.

He's caught up in looking at his reflection for a while, really absorbing up all those details hiding his face, before finally returning Zhas' mirror.

Too bad Coil isn't one for smiling. The shift in his features is probably the closest he ever gets, though.

He likes that look. It's pretty funny with bones on the outside. But he likes it all the same. He thinks he did pretty good, all things considering.

When lids are all screwed back on and the mirror's stashed back in his pocket, he slides off the top of the table and back onto the ground. He's got to lean on the thing for support, but he's up.

He signs again: they'll go get food, then go home. Okay?

He nods. He likes this plan.

Somehow, with his face painted, a huge part of wanting to not waste the night has been satisfied. He feels like some goal that he hadn't ever actually decided on has been met.

So, he unsteadily makes his way up to his feet, fails at nudging his chair back toward the table, and almost forgets his water bottle.

But he's got it now. He's all good.

That reminds him to take his own--but he just ends up shoving it in the pocket at the front of his jacket. It'll be forgotten in a few minutes, since he's not really interested. Food's a pretty all-consuming thought all of a sudden.

And since he thinks Coil's doing a little better, he'll just lead on--keeping a drunken eye on him, but definitely not dragging him along this time. He tries to look back and ask him what he wants to eat again, but it's really hard to pay attention to what he's signing and where he's going at the same time.

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