gotta happen

[betabangs]

Heeeellloooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

[She counts to three, then cups her hands around her mouth again and --]

Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeellloooooooooooooooooooooooo?

[It's ringing down every hallway. Fuck yeah echoes.]

For a place that's supposed to be a Lab, it's sure is [Deep breath, girl!]

Emmmmmmmmmptyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!

Comments

[savedover]

What do you mean, you're not allowed? [That's... so...





Irritating.]

[betabangs]

[She is ten and she is not allowed to say the D word, Silver. Be patient.]

I'm not allowed. But it's a word that rhymes with lie, sigh, and me-oh-my!

[savedover]

[As an eleven-year-old collectively raised by the equivalent of the mafia, Silver has no idea what Blue is talking about.]

You're speaking nonsense. [He sincerely doubts that she's following a predetermined script-- which is the only situation that makes sense to him why she wouldn't be "allowed" to say a word.

(And yet, all he can think about are words like die, lie, nigh, why, rye, cry, vie, eye...)]

[betabangs]

Am not. I'm just not allowed to say it. My mom would've told me so, if I had one.

[savedover]

[???]

Well, why aren't you "allowed" to say it?

[betabangs]

[She... doesn't know.]

...Good girls don't say words like that? I don't know. I just feel like if I say it, I'll get in trouble.

[savedover]

You're making all of this fuss over an expletive. [Psh, other children raised with a proper moral compass.] Would you write it down?

[He has a good idea of what it is... but now he's curious as what the exact word is.]

[betabangs]

Do you have any paper?

[It is the stupidest thing not to be able to say and since Silver's making a fuss over her making a fuss over it, she's embarrassed.]

[savedover]

... ... ... ...

[After a moment of long silence, Silver reaches into his front pocket. He pulls out a pen and a battered notebook; its pages are worn and smudged, as if they have often been paged through. Silver quickly flips through pages and pages filled with his sharp handwriting, before ending on a blank page near the very back.]

Use this. Don't look at anything else.

[betabangs]

[Telling a kid not to look at something is just begging for her to look at it.

But she'll write it. A lot of things, actually. Die and dead and things of that nature. She's not allowed to say them, so she might as well make a list - neatly titled Things I Can't Say - for him!

And she'll pass it back without looking at anything. She is a good girl.]

[savedover]

[Silver will take his notebook back, inwardly relieved that Blue obeyed his request to not look at anything else. He quietly reads her list, a small furrow in his brow; it's not what he expected.]

There are worse things than death. [He closes the notebook and returns it to his pockets.] Anyway, you're wrong. This facility is controlled by a bizarre program; we've been brought here for it to research.

[betabangs]

[The limits of her existence (or lack there-of) for her game are astounding.]

So I couldn't get a Pokémon here? [That's a little saddening. She kind of wanted a Squirtle or something...] What's it researching?

[savedover]

You could. There are several areas of the lab that mimic natural habitats. [He shrugs, irritably.] Who knows? The rooms here are random, which makes it difficult to tell for certain.

[betabangs]

I don't know how to catch a Pokémon. [She's never been able to be seen, much less heard or able to buy her own pokéballs -- it's no surprise!] Maybe it's testing people's patience.

[savedover]

It's simple enough. [All you have to do is break in through a window and--] Just find some Pokéballs and throw them at something weak.

[betabangs]

[NO SILVER NO] Do you have any Pokéballs? Can you come with me? Will you help me catch one?

[savedover]

[But all you have to do after that is avoid law enforcement! And then it's all golden!]

Of course I do. I'm a Trainer. [He frowns.] Why would I do something like that?

[betabangs]

[But then I'd need a rival to get my butt kicked by.]

Because you're a nice person? [He let her use what's obviously a very important journal; why wouldn't he help her with this?]

[savedover]

[You can skip that step if you want..........]

I'm not a nice person.

[betabangs]

[Isn't it vital?]

Niceness is, um... What's the word... [Give her a sec.] ...Sub...jective? Um, what you think is nice and what I think is nice are different!

[savedover]

[Having a rival is pretty much awful. Totally optional and not recommended!]

We've only been speaking for five minutes and thirty-nine seconds. You can't make subjective conclusions about my personality in that short of a time.

[betabangs]

[But then how will I better myself?]

You've been keeping count? That's so cool!

[savedover]

Of course. I can't lose track of time.

[betabangs]

Even if you did, I'm sure you'd find it again!

[Blue wait.]

[savedover]

It's just an idiom, moron.