canon is johannes cabal :|

[soulcontracts]

You could at least do me the respect of re-reading the damned books first.

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[soulcontracts]

[ He snorts. It's a soft sound, one of derision. ]

I'm hardly anticipating this.

[whatwas]

Oh, come on. It'll be fun!

[He says this with the tone of voice he'd once used to convince Johannes to do all manner of things which all ended up being questionable.]

Besides, you'll have me...and probably a vault full of cadavers...new supplies.

[soulcontracts]

[ The exasperation is practically radiating off of him. ]

Trapped between you and the opportunity to perform hundreds of experiments that I'll never directly reap the benefits from.

I'm thrilled.

[whatwas]

Trust you to see the dark side of a sunbeam.

Since you'd be just as miserable at home, I don't feel the least bit sorry for you.

[soulcontracts]

And you realize it's just like before, don't you? Any progress I might make, any warm, emotional growth- [ spoken like the words actually tangibly taste bad ] -you might vainly attempt to inspire in me are completely moot, right? None of this will have any bearing on home.

It's nothing more than a forced detour. Probably with bad tea.

[whatwas]

Oh, pshaw, I'm sure wherever we go the tea won't be nearly as bad as that last place.

And frankly, when it comes to you, I've learned to appreciate what fleeting growth there is while it's there.

[soulcontracts]

[ He just kind of watches Horst for a moment, expression flat. Finally, he offers: ]

I was hit on last year.

[ How's that for growth, Horst? He'll leave out the part where he thought it was witchcraft. ]

[whatwas]

[Blink]

Oh. [He straightens up, paying sharp attention. Like he's quizzing Johannes before the prom.]

And you didn't throw anything in her face? Didn't make her cry, or swear off men for good?

[soulcontracts]

[ And Johannes simply carefully inspects his very well-kept nails. They have to stay short; getting scrapes of skin and organ beneath them is just unsanitary. ]

Again: I fail to see how any of this is your business in the slightest.

[whatwas]

Well, I like to know how much humanity you have left sloshing around that little blackened soul of yours.

[soulcontracts]

[ He balls that hand into a loose fist, pressing it to his chest as if experiencing heart pain.

Blandly: ]

And there it goes, shriveling a little more with every insult.

[whatwas]

That was merely an observation. How pristine can your soul be after being used as Satan's silly putty?

[soulcontracts]

Likely in better shape than yours, all things considered.

[whatwas]

Let's not point fingers.

Do you think they'll give us bunk beds? I always did want one of those, when we were young.

[soulcontracts]

[ Alright, he's managed strained banter up until now, but he can't abide the thought of sharing bunk beds with Horst. ]

That is not happening. I'm vetoing it right now.

[whatwas]

Would you prefer sharing a room with some stranger? I doubt they'll let you get away with murder, there.

[And he does mean murder, not some exaggerated turn of phrase. Johannes doesn't kill without reason, but Horst would bet that close quarters with someone annoying could be 'reason'.]

[soulcontracts]

I'm going to have my own room. [ Or house, if he can have any say in it. There is absolutely no question in his voice. ] It's pointless to discuss otherwise.

[whatwas]

And you know where I'll be.

[Because there is no way that Horst is trusting his body to anyone else during the day.]

[soulcontracts]

[ An impassive look. ]

Should I care where you are?

[ He wouldn't trust anyone else to Horst's body, either. ]

[whatwas]

Yes. I'd hate to get dust in your lungs if you pulled open the wrong trunk.

[soulcontracts]

When are you coming from?

[ Not 'where.'

Johannes is genre-savvy, ok. ]

[whatwas]

Just after my left arm started drifting away in the breeze.

I assume you're coming from later?

[soulcontracts]

A day or two, I suppose.

[ .. more like a year or two but whatever. ]