IC Contact

[garbagechild]

"... So I just talk? I start talking? .... Now? ... What's the light mean? ... Oh! HI, I'M WRATH, THIS IS MY MAIL VOICE, PLEASE LEAVE A--" BEEP.


[OOC: Want to thread with me but don't have a current post to do it on? Wanna send Wrath a private message? Wanna prank-call him in the middle of the night and then instantly regret it as he dials you back over and over and yells "Hello? HELLO?" into the mic? Pop a thread on here with the IC date and time and let's get playing!]

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[garbagechild]

Wrath had two modes when it came to rain.

On one hand, there was "Oh, Haven't You Heard? Puddles Are Literally Proof That God Loves Us" Wrath.

And then on the other, there was "If A Raindrop Touches Me, I Will Actually Die" Wrath.

Today, it was the latter.

Which, despite the potential for drama, was a blessing in disguise because it meant that for once the little goblin was actually dressed appropriately for the weather and could therefore enter the Department Store without being turned away for not having shoes.

Unusually sedate, the boy squeaks alongside Henry in a pair of rubber boots and a hoodie several sizes too big, hood up. He kind of looks like something that would stab you in an 8-bit video game. A short ways ahead of him, a Dratini winds confidently down the aisle, leaving a wet trail behind her. It's prime wyrm weather out there.

Paying no heed to the fact that his Pokemon is making a mess almost just by existing, Wrath nods as though he has any idea what Henry is saying.

"That makes sense. Stantlers shouldn't be able to wave. They don't have hands."

[no_ufo_ending]

"Their antlers sort of look like hands," Henry added. He didn't honestly expect Wrath to be too interested in the history of hypnogogic pop but he figured he'd like being talked to anyway. If Wrath offered up a subject, Henry would go along for the ride. Hell, maybe they'd find more in common than their unholy love for Orange Islands offbrand candy.

Once they made it into the little map board next to the elevators, Henry hummed and looked up at it. "Okay, guys. We need a Dusk Stone for Ron because I hate myself. We need two bags of poke'chow. Wrath, you wanted that new Build-a-Mon right?"

[garbagechild]

"Not really," Wrath replies skeptically, blunt as usual.

But he's far more interested in getting A Thing than in arguing about what body parts Stantler antlers do or don't resemble, so he nods, pausing alongside Henry.

"Ahuh. The Kangaskhan one. I promised Baby I would get it. Why do you hate yourself?"

[no_ufo_ending]

Henry plopped a hand atop Wrath's head and sighed deeply.

"I must if I'm getting him a stone to make him even bigger when he's hard enough to deal with now. It must be neat having Kangaskhan, huh? Two Pokemon that are always together."

Henry led them to the elevator to go to the floor with all the novelty items first so that Wrath could have his customized stuffed kangasaurus. He lifted an arm for Norman to hang from.

[garbagechild]

Like many of Henry's explanations, the connection between self-loathing and blackbird evolution is lost of Wrath. He decides not to ask for elaboration and just steps into the elevator with Henry. He will tolerate having a hand on his head if it means getting a sweet toy.

"It is. They can even fight together, when I use their special stone. Baby used to be completely useless, like all babies. But now she's very helpful. I think I might give her a new name. She doesn't deserve to be compared to the other babies anymore."

[no_ufo_ending]

As the elevator closed and hummed, Henry finally removed his hand from Wrath's head so that he could give Norman a friendly pat. Maybe he would train him more now that he wasn't AS skittish around batty things.

Then Wrath comes out with that and Henry absolutely could not contain a loud ugly snort. The way Wrath could turn a phrase. Holy shit. He loved this kid.

"Yeah, I think you're right. Well, they make whole books of names just for babies and Pokemon. We could grab you one while we're here."

[garbagechild]

"Do they make books of those? That actually sounds useful."

Wrath can read pretty well now, but he's still not really the type to pore over tomes the same way, say, Lust does. He had never taken part in the more educational duties the Homunculi traditionally performed-- he was more the rabid wolverine that they pointed at people who needed to stop being alive like, right now.

"I like names to be accurate. Like mine." He's a little more talkative than he's been around Henry in the past-- standing in the liminal space of a department store elevator has weird effects like that. "My name is very informative. Yours isn't, really. But that's not your fault. Your mommy probably gave it to you, and humans are really terrible at naming things, as a general rule."

[no_ufo_ending]

"Yup," Henry confirmed. First stop: book store. THEN Build-a-Mon.

He tilts his head as Wrath continues. While Henry hasn't seen Wrath being terribly angry, he also hasn't been named a traitor. So.

"I guess. But that's just one of my names." Henry added slyly, hoping to give himself an air of mysteriousness.

[garbagechild]

If Henry wants to be mysterious, he'd better be ready for those piercing husky-blue eyes to be turned on him expectantly.

"What are your other ones?"

Because you can't say something like that to Wrath and not immediately be expected to share the deets.

[no_ufo_ending]

Henry is just. Fucking thrilled that Wrath took the bait. Not that there's any trick at play, he's just glad that Wrath wants to know.

"Well. In other places, I go by The Receiver of Wisdom. But I have another name. It's a super secret name, known only to me and two other people. And now you."

Henry actually leans down a little, being careful not to jostle Norman.

"I am called...Banana Man."

[garbagechild]

It takes a moment for the dust to settle on that revelation.

Wrath first looks at Henry. Then at the unmoving elevator doors. Then back at Henry again, this time with a furrowed brow. You can actually see the little mathematical calculations floating in the air around his head.

Finally, he asks, "Why?" in the exact same tone someone would use after hearing their friend tell them that they hot-glued their hand to the doorknob at 3 AM.

Because Wrath cannot freaking fathom why on earth anyone would like bananas so much that they wanted their identity inextricably tied to them.