manners . zachary

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"Are you ever going to have that fixed?" Bloody noses seemed so simple to prevent, yet every time Cyrus found himself around the other knight one seemed to occur. He would have presumed the other had been addicted to some sort of drug that had to be inhaled if he hadn't been told other wise day one. The beta would simply assume the other knew how to take care of himself and carry on, but that didn't stop him from asking questions. Shopping had been his lest favorite hobby since childhood-- the idea of leaving and blowing valuable money on items that could only be used once or twice was less than ideal, but having a familiar face around seemed to make it a little more tolerable. Barely. "This shitty town only has standard potions, fucking rip off." As if he was willing to travel insert-number miles to get something better. The touch of health would have to serve for now, if only to last him until a time where he could replace the shitty products with their more powerful cousins. "Not much activity lately. Have you gotten any reports? Shit's unfair if you have, aren't you some lesser thug?" Eyes darted over to the other, only for a moment as he continued wandering down the aisle."What did you even come in here for again?" He was a talker, it was in his nature. Even if Cyrus was bitter half the time, Zachary had proved to be sufficient company, despite the uncomfortable situations that would occasionally arise. There was no doubt in the beta's mind another would be happening today, if not in a few moments. He tolerated them though, without question. Anything that prevented absolute loneliness was acceptable.

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Zachary seemed to walk very casually beside his "superior". He really didn't mind the constant insults and bitching and him about--well, whatever Griffin could find wrong about him. Talkative to a fault, the poor lad had yet to consider who was really the boss in these situations. He didn't face him, nor did it look like Zachary was even paying attention, but his amber eyes lazily glanced over to the other in an idle fashion, he allowed a smirk hover on his lips as he felt the red mess dribble down his face, into his view, and on to his lips. He used the cuff of a worn hoodie sleeve to wipe it away, but the waterworks kept coming, and he shook his head.

"Chronic bleeding. Look it up, sweetie."


The blonde never usually used foul language like his friend here, unless it was specfically called for, cursing usually never came from his lips. Zachary had never been the one to shop, he could simply take things when he needed them, so what was the point? Cyrus had always disliked the fact that he had to use money to get things. The ashen-haired male next to him seemingly disliked everything. And that was why they hung out--well, to a degree. Mainly, they were both lonely and both were in the Knights of Arceus or whatever. But, he could never hide the fact that he thought the boy was cute. But, that was probably why Zachary hated him so much. Their situations were awkward and somewhat embarrassing, but it was all fun and games to him. Cyrus was his gateway to get away from the constant paranoia and disorders he had whenever he wasn't around.

"Hey--I have some Max Potions in my bag... at least I think so."
He nudged the other casually with his shoulder, a small brush of shoulders. He used this chance to move himself and he shifted to walk a bit ahead of him, tilting his head slightly and reaching up one individual index finger to pick at a small, pastel pink colored scar that raked its way across his jugular vain on his throat. It wasn't a scab anymore, and it was healing, but every time he touched it he shuddered; a shiver going down the curvature of his spine.

His brows furrowed. More talking. The little idiot never knew when to shut up. Especially when they were this close. Time to put his down down. "This 'lesser thug' can still kick your damn ass, Griffy-sama. And no, I haven't heard much." his words were a soft murmur, and he stood still, watching with critical eyes as the other wandered down the aisle, and he folded his arms moodily. His words were still kind, but a bit more forced.

"I came because I wanted to. Why must you know everything about me? Worry about yourself sometimes." he grumbled, letting out a singular huff from his nostrils.

Good company. Pfft. If Griffin was excellent company that he was Mozart. Meanwhile, the blood had made it to his chin and dripped down to the clean, white floor, which he ignored.

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That fucking nickname. It drove him insane, and Cyrus was one-hundred percent sure the other was aware. Mainly because he had voiced his annoyance more than once-- which was probably the reason Zach seemed relentless with it. A grunt and an eye roll would serve for now, he would let it go. There wasn't much to argue about when it came to physical disorders anyway. "Sounds like you're offering. I don't return favors, you know." He grumbled at his companion, shooting a quick glare in Zach's direction at the nudge. Icy eyes would fall on the mark on the other's throat, yet his mouth would stay closed. It wasn't his business, and he didn't want it to be. It wouldn't be the first scar he'd caught sight of, and Cyrus doubted it would be the last. He would remain silent each time, letting his mind wander until some other distraction came up. A grin finally broke his formerly expressionless face, almost serving as a gateway to a challenge. "You ever gonna prove that? And here I thought you'd rather just stare at it. All bark, no bite." The chuckle would fade with the smirk as he pulled out a cellular device-- still nothing. "They can't let us sit forever, I didn't work my ass off to stay idle." A glance would be all he offered to Zachary's words. A twinge of guilt was immediately replaced by indifference. "Don't give me that bitchy shit, it was a damn question. Clean your face up before you pass out, would you? You're making a bloody mess."

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"I wasn't offering you any. I was simply stating I had some." he came quickly to his own defense. The blonde's nose wrinkled in spite of himself. He pulled up his hoodie to his ears, letting his eyes flash over the other quickly, before becoming blank, listless red dots once more. "And besides, your favor returns don't do enough justice for me to give you things." he said, letting out a sigh. The nickname? Oh yes, he had thousands of them. If he could use them all in one sentence, he would--just to be annoying and possibly see that face turn red in anger, maybe even embarrassment. Oh how Zachary would love to see that, red to contrast on his pale skin. He liked how their appearances were exact opposites. Amber eyes to his icy sapphire ones, white hair to his blonde mane. Heavily scarred while he was untouched, unblemished--holy. Maybe that was why he hung around... why unlike any other, he paid attention to him and talked to him. He still hated him, but still. He liked a challenge.


His head snapped up. He let a scowl replace his current passive mood and emotion. The other was pushing him. He didn't dare let a blush show on his cheeks, but it came anyway. Flushing now, he used the hood of his jacket to cover his face, and he let himself tremble slightly.

"You bastard. I-I never stared at it. You've never seen me stare at it..." he stammered, looking up to see the smug grin widening on the other's face. He felt hot, as if his whole body was seemingly blushing with him. The heat grew to the bridge of his nose. He reached up to wipe away to the blood that had slid its way down to his neck, running his hands over his knuckles and blustering. Oh, how he hated him. Hate couldn't describe the way he felt.

"...Frankly, you act as if you care. I-I've done more things in the alliance that your sadistic ass."

He'd kidnapped before. Once. But, if gave him a feeling of power--odd as it may seem. If the girl hadn't gotten away...

Only Cyrus got to see the child-like innocence that replaced all else when he wasn't around others. Why did he care? He shrugged his backpack on his shoulders, and clenched his fists almost angrily. All bark, no bite, my right foot. As if obeying the other, he wipe the rest of the bloody mess that had leaked from his nose while he hadn't noticed it. He snorted and turned the other way, reaching into his pocket to neatly place the shades on the bridge of his nose. There. That should cover the blush.

"Whatever. I'm... I'm going home." he muttered darkly.