WE WERE MADE FOR EACH OTHER -- [MARS]

[kyle collins]

Running. It was all Kyle did these days.. Well, at least, it seemed like it. Naturally, running came with the job title ‘runner’, but hell did it get boring after a while. Being a scavenger had been his second choice (but since the Koios were short on fast midgets who were stupid enough to venture outside alone, he was picked as a messengerboy instead) and so.. To give himself a bit of variety he’d decided to sort of slyly merge the two jobs. Not that this was allowed. But no one would find out, right? And so, after successfully delivering a message, Kyle would then wander off and explore a few buildings (often looking for nothing in particular, other than a way of relieving himself of boredom) – and then blame his late return on having to take a longer route back to headquarters because of a flock of zombies. It was a brilliant excuse. Worked every time. ‘Scavenging’ also gave him some time to wander the remains of the city alone – it gave him a chance to search for something, anything that would perhaps hint the location of the loved ones he had lost in the chaos. Namely three people.

Ash, of course, was one of them – because no matter how harsh the kid had always been to him, he was his brother (well.. half, but Kyle never called him by that) and so he felt obliged to love him. And he did. There was a reason for his harsh treatment – hell, he probably deserved it – and so Ash wasn't to blame. He’d lost his brother as soon as the panic had erupted: he could remember the guy casting him one last look before sprinting off in a different direction without saying a word. Kyle had tried to follow him, but he had been going against the general flow of the masses and so he’d been battered back and had lost him.

The other two were the Siinfels. Because they were the closest thing he’d ever had to a family – and his limitless love for them couldn't be expressed in words. Emory (or Giant Emory, or Emmy, as he often affectionately had called him) had been the first person to be more than just an ‘acquaintance’ to him – the first person Kyle felt he could actually go to – despite how much he knew the guy hated him. And then he had met his brother, Mars, and he had found what he had been missing all of his life. And the other half of Team Dipshit had been catapulted into his life – only to be torn away once the zombies arrived. Kyle would find the Siinfels. He’d already sworn that much to himself. Even if he had to check every square centimetre of the damned city; even if he had to traverse to the end of the world and back; even if he had to check the bottom of every ocean – he would find them.

Today was quiet – usually by now he’d have run into a couple of the undead, but none as of yet. But he was out earlier than normal.. And he hadn’t had far to travel, either. Only a few miles. Hence why he was done so early. Kyle paused to survey the area and his attention was attracted in particular to a high-rising, three-storey building. All of the windows were smashed in and the sun caught on the reflections of the shards littering the ground around the dusty walls. They cracked underfoot as Kyle pushed the heavy double doors open, hinges screeching loudly in horror. Curiously, because he could never remember seeing this place before, Kyle stepped inside and slowly made his way down the corridor, one hand trailing along the wall as he went. The doors boomed loudly shut behind him as he reached the stairs and he trotted up them, taking the first door on the right. His muddy converse left dirty stains on the faded white carpets, which were otherwise clean except for dust and a littering of office stationary. It was obvious that it had been deserted the moment that the virus had been detected, and that no one had been in here since.

The room he was in was an office – quite small, just containing an overturned desk, a cream chair and a hell of a lot of general office equipment scattered over the carpet. Kyle crouched down amidst this sea of stationary and pocketed handful of pens and pencils (because finding ones that worked was hella hard nowadays – and the damned co-ordinators always needed them) and then prodded at the other stuff. It was all boring.. Staplers, paperclips, scraps of paper and.. Documents of some sort. Kyle flicked through them, found them immensely boring and instead started twisting the paperclips into a lovely snake. He made his way over to the frameless window and leaned on the sill – almost shredding his elbow to the bone but at the last minute remembering to carefully brush the glass away (because a small cut could end up being disastrous in this day and age) – and absently stared at the sun in the sky. It hadn’t been up for long and the sky was unusually blue. His hands still idly worked at the paperclips and once he had run out he attached them to the longass paperclipchainsnake (named ‘Terrance’) looped around his belt (because he totally paid attention to the zombie 101). One day, Terrance would be able to loop around the world and back.

And then Kyle noticed something. Someone. A silhouette. Probably attracted by the sound of him romping around the building and slamming doors – shit. Kyle was about to duck beneath the window (and hope to hell and pray that it wasn't a zombie coming to tear him limb from limb and use his bones as a toothpick) when he noticed. A flash of blond hair. Blond. It was a long shot but.. Perhaps? He straightened up and squinted at the figure. Leaned forward. Squinted more. Leaned forward and – fell out the window. Kyle ‘eep’ed, his world coming to a standstill as his body balanced for a nanosecond on the edge of the windowsill and he was flying before gravity snapped him up in its ugly claws and he dropped like a stone. Luckily for him, the building wasn't tall. At all. And there had been a lovely dumpster to land in below (which, thankfully, had mostly been filled with cardboard and bits of paper). Kyle popped his head out of the green box and

his heart stopped.
because it was Mars.

For an instant, Kyle froze. And then his body lurched into action and he scrambled out of the dumpster, tripped in his haste, re-found his footing and shot towards Mars like a bullet. Suddenly he was eager to run again and he couldn't get there fast enough. Once within range, he launched himself at Mars and attached himself to the guy in a literal koala cling – legs around waist, arms around chest – and sent them both crashing to the ground. “MARS,” was the only word Kyle managed to get out, too busy crushing the kid in his death-grip. Because he had found his other half. “MARSMARS. I MISSED YOU SO MUCH ARE YOU OKAY HOW’VE YOU BEEN PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME.” Team Dipshit were finally reunited.

[/size]

notes: MAN I MISSED THESE TWO ;-;
wc: 1226. NOT 1337 SRY.[/justify][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

[mars mario luigi siinfel]

T

[/color]onight marked the most fatal mistake in Emory’s 22 years: deciding to let Mars keep watch. On this particularly drab night, the exhaustion of having to keep beat with someone with the mental capacity of a seven-year-old had finally seemed to catch up with him. And as soon as Mars had given him his enthusiastic promise to make sure nothing ate them alive, the eldest brother’s hundred-sixty pounds had plummeted to the sleeping-bag-cushioned-ground like a stone. Mars had kept close to the snoring stallion’s frame (because he didn’t want to be alone in zombie territory and Emmys were generally very warm creatures when they weren’t suffocating you in their midsts.) But after about ten minutes of clinging to his older brother like a limpet, he was alerted to a sudden yowl in the distance.

Was it possible that cats had evaded the zombie scourge?

The possibility that maybe the yowl belonged to a friendly, lost ghost was something kind of cool in itself too. Regardless of the hypothetical case, he began entangling Emmylimbs from around his waist and replacing them around the body of a teddy bear Mars thinks he acquired from the same deserted house that has supplied them with four month’s worth of Twinkies. And then he runs, hoping to confront this Casper. Yeah, you wouldn’t expect a lot of people to go ghosthunting, but a phantom friend seemed comparatively cool to a flesh-eating one and Mars was too happy to pursue one. He clambers off, oblivious to the fact that he’s leaving his brother completely open to becoming zombie fodder, and begins to explore the city of Fritch. He crawls out of the “crypts” where Emmy sleeps (hopefully not eternally kthx) and begins to troll the avenues, but suddenly forgets about that ghost/cat/phantomfeline? when a feeling begins to tickle the back of his skull (a feeling that's been dormant for far too long). He places a finger to his chin and strokes, like he’s fallen from a detective movie, and he suddenly realizes what it is.

His Kyle senses are tingling.

He emits an audible, “what? where?” and skids to a stop, trying to decide where the hell to go. North? South? East? West? UpwardsdownwarsrightwaysleftwaysWHERE? No way in hell does he want to be wrong and let the other more splendorous half of Team Dipshit to get away while he searches for him. Uhhhh.

And suddenly his answer dropped from the heavens. He hears a ruckus in a neighboring dumpster and turns instantly.

And what he saw there
or rather who
or rather who had sawhim,thenglomptacklebonesquishedhimtothefloor
brought a grin to his lips that didn’t seem to want to go anywhere anytime soon.

“COLLINFLOWER.”

((because if you knew him, you’d know that he affixed nicknames that bordered on complete retardation to the people he loved, and Kyle had been cursed honored with this title.))

The kid’s words don’t seem to register. They can’t reach him fast enough and he can’t reply back fast enough and he doesn’t care because he’s just reveling in the company of a Kylecreature. Saying ‘he can’t believe this’ is a lie because he wants to put all of his faith in the kid’s current existence and then some. Saying ‘he can’t believe this’ is a lie because that little Kyle-shaped hole in his heart is finally filled again. TEAM DIPSHIT IS REUNITED.

“KYLEKYLEILOVEYOUIMISSEDYOUI’MFINEEMMY’SFINEIWON’TLEAVEYOUEVENIFANUCLEARBOMBHITS.”

A pause for breath.

And then he seems to ease into recovery and removes his hands from where they’d probably began to suffocate the poor kid and settles for ruffling this through the frenzied mop of Kahlll’s hair. His fingers graze the guy’s cheek and he presses a kiss to the corner of the guy’s mouth whether he’ll have it or not because he needs an outlet for all this pent-up affection. “HOW ARE YOU WHERE WERE YOU AND WHY DID YOU FALL INTO A DUMPSTER? OH AND--”[/color] Mars is unfamiliar with this business of lying, but he’s scrabbling for words to overjoy Kyle and pulls them from nowhere--”EMMY WOULD SAY HI AND THAT HE MISSED YOU, TOO.”[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

NOTES: I MISSED THESE KIDDOS THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS MUCH.

stilllookingforlyricsandmotivationtomaketextsorryily

[kyle collins]

’Collinflower!’ was the only thing that managed to squeeze its way through Kyle’s whirlwind-jumble of spastic thoughts and register as he crashed into the torso of the kid and sent them both crashing to the ground. He grinned at the daft old nickname and he could feel his heart pounding like a jackhammer, and this time it wasn't because of all the running, but because it was Mars. His other half. The second member of Team Dipshit. Someone with retardation that matched the level of his own. Someone with as few braincells as himself. His soulmate, damnit. Because Kyle could barely remember life before Mars had waltzed into it and he wasn't sure he wanted to; Mars had entered at the time when he had needed someone the most (because Emmy had been the only person he had, but Emmy had also been one of the people who detested him most forcefully) and he had been grateful ever since. It had been the first relationship he’d ever had (that he could remember) with someone where the feelings had actually been mutual – and not just him flinging himself at the person in question and being hated in return. But Mars matched his enthusiasm and Kyle would be eternally grateful for it, because as much as he’d never admitted it to himself, that was exactly what he had needed from the start.

And then realization struck. Ohmanohmanohman. It was Mars. Words could not express how happy Kyle was to see him right now – because hell, he’d been fully prepared to trek across the entire galaxy and back to find him. And Emmy. Emmy. At that thought, his heart froze in his chest because EMMY WAS NOWHERE IN SIGHT. And Kyle couldn't believe for one minute that the Giant would have let Mars wander around on his own. ‘Was Emory- ?’ The question was too terrible to even think and Kyle fumbled for words but none came and he needed to know but didn't want to know. Because ignorance was bliss, right? He would much rather spend the rest of his life searching for the guy, believing him to be alive, than to spend the rest of it mourning his death. Even if, in both cases, he’d never see him again. Because a tiny glimmer of hope was better than none? Kyle was about to have a mini-breakdown when Mars’s next jumble of words, which somewhere in the middle included ‘Emmy’s fine’ left him sighing with relief and literally slumping his head against Mars’s chest as the building fear dissipated. Mars was fine. Emmy was fine. He’d found the Siinfels.

Kyle raised his head and grinned at the boy trapped beneath him, clinging to him like a monkey to a tree (which wasn't far from reality). He felt the kid’s hands in his hair, on his cheeks, lips on his mouth, and Kyle smiles because he isn’t used to all of this affection and he finds himself loving every second of it. He presses his face into the crook of Mars’s neck because it’s warm there and it’s the closest he can possibly get to him. He can hear Mars shooting questions at him but he remains silent for a few moments because the sudden rush of adrenaline has left him feeling tired, but then it returns with full force and he lifts his head once more.

“I’VEBEENFINEWHATABOUTYOU?!” and suddenly he wants to hear all of Mars’s zombie encounters and all of the little adventures he’d missed in his absence during the past.. However long it had been. Kyle hadn’t been keeping count. He hadn’t wanted to. “I UMM. FELL FROM A WINDOW. THAT BUILDING,” he tossed his head to look over his shoulder and glare at the offending window in which he had toppled from just minutes ago. Kyle smiles at the mention of Emmy missing him, but he doesn’t believe it because he knows that Emory prefers it when he isn’t there. “HOW’S EMORY BEEN DOING?” because he is just as concerned for the other member of the Siinfel family – because he loves Emory too.

And then he realises something, and he pauses. He stares at Mars. Scrutinises him. Runs his hands up and down the guy’s chest because he believes that his eyes are deceiving him and to touch is to believe and “YOU’RE ALMOST AS TALL AS EMORY.” It was said accusingly, because how dare Mars grow without him. Damn it. But he isn’t really annoyed. This realisation reminds him just how long it had been since he last saw Mars, and he feels a pang of sadness as he remembers all of the months without him – instantly looking him over to see what else had changed. His hair. It seemed lighter, more blond than he remembered. Maybe his mind playing tricks on him, maybe due to excessive hours wandering beneath the sun. Kyle runs his fingers through it and attempts to restore it to some order after sending him sprawling on the ground but it was also just an excuse to be a girl and to play with the pretty blond hair.

Kyle can’t think of anything to say for a few minutes and he remains grinning at the lanky Mars, idly pawing at his chest and wondering where he’d come from and revelling in how lucky he’d been to spot him. “Where did you come from?!” he wonders if it’s far. “Where’ve you left Emmy?!” because he’s now beginning to panic that it’s not in a safe place – or maybe he’s injured?! That would explain Mars’s Emmy-lessness state right now. And then he remembers something else – something important. “What alliance are you two in?” because he’s pretty sure that it isn’t the Koios. He hopes it isn’t the Nyx, because their mindless violence scared him. The Inferi weren’t too bad, though.. “Ohmanohman. You’llneverknowhowmuchimissedyouseriouslyiloveyou,” because he won’t. And Kyle is beginning to worry that he might not be able to see him again, and in the same heartbeat he considers quitting the Koios (..was that even allowed? He guessed not). But he’d much prefer to follow Mars to the end of the universe than to stay where most of the sane people were – in (relative) safety.

[/size]

notes: D8 sry
wc: 1039[/justify][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

[mars mario luigi siinfel]

I

[/color] t’s official, there have been too many seconds between now and the last dipshit reunion. The sudden completeness is overwhelming and makes the younger Siinfel’s lopsided smile absolutely refuse to sink. It clings to his face like a limpet, like an octopus, like a Kyle.

“I’VE BEEN RAD.” He assures, still nuzzling Collinflower with full force, loving that feeling of the guy’s spikey haphazard wonderful matt of HAIR! against his face

because it smells like Kyle and Kyle smells like home.

When Kyle darts up to glare daggers at the offending window, Mars squints at it as well. He doesn’t understand how a window could possibly want to throw a Kyle out. He guesses the window and Emory might have something in common in their genetics, though.

“EMMY’S GRUMPY AND WANTS TO EAT SOMETHING OTHER THAN TWINKIES AND I THINK HE MISSES SHOWERING BUT I DON’T. I JUST MISSED YOU.” It seems kind of pointless to talk about life without Kyle--because it is non-existent. Emmy pulls those overprotective stunts over him every day; tells him not to look when a zombie skull needs to be pumped full of lead; and curls up beside him at the end of every day when even the teddy bear won’t do. But life without Kyle wasn’t really the same, because he missed their equal levels of retardation and the broken bone(s) and the misadventures and the sneaksneaking about without Emory knowing. Kyle is family, despite the lack of adoption certificates or the fact that Emory prefers him from a thousand miles away. And life without family is empty and lonely. “I’M SO GLAD NOTHING ATE YOU.”

Wait.

He halts immediately and pulls up the guy’s arms, searching over every patch of exposed skin looking for a bite-sized contusion (of the zombie-induced variety. if Kyle’s found someone he’s more than cool with that.) His zombiecheck comes up negative and he breathes a sigh of relief. (Although if he’d been tackled by a zombieKahl, he’d still have stuck with him to the end.) “Or bit you. Or hurt you ‘cause that’d be not rad.”[/color] He’s suddenly stopped shouting at the other guy from .oo1 cm away, in a contemplative quietness now. He’s never before thought of the reality, the immensity, the gravity of losing his better half.

And he’s not sure he wants to.

He leans in, not menacingly, not invasively (okay kind of invasively) but mostly just Mars-ly close. He brushes forehead-to-forehead with the living, breathing soul of Team Dipshit and allows his face to light with a smile that rivals even a jack-o’-lantern. Okay, he’s finally affirmed Kyle is real and has somehow evaded the zombies, and now he can put his mind to better things like telling his body to lean in when Kyle runs his hands down the new inches of skin he’s acquired in a miraculous latest growthspurt. When the words hits he’s both bewildered because being Emmy tall is a strange but fulfilling accomplishment and disheartened because HE NEVER MEANT TO LEAVE KAHL BEHIND. EVEN IN TERMS OF GROWTHSPURTS. “You’re still Kahltall.” Kahltall is the perfect Kahlheight. So that’s an accomplishment in itself. And to his knowledge, Kylecreature’s hair seems to be the same, maybe a little more matted (a serious achievement.) And maybe Kyle looks like he’s been worked too hard from all this running--he makes a mental note to ask how many Twinkies Kyle wants, but after because ohmygodhairisbeingplayedwithpleasepausethealready-abysmalmentalfunction.

But even if this is heaven in the middle of hell and he knows he could spend the rest of his life here, he also knows that no Team Dipshit reunion is complete without the inclusion of Emory. He tunes in to the fact (barely) that Kyle is inquiring about the whereabouts of the fallen sleepy Emmymonster and Mars would never deny Kyle this information. ‘Sides, he wants to share Kyle with his brother and hopes that their appreciation is equal. “He’s in those. Apartment things. Like. I’ll show you. You should meet him he’llbesohappyknowingyou’realive. He’s sleeping but we could change that. You should live with us maybe.”[/color]

But all of a sudden Kyle throws a foreign word at Mars. It ricochets off of his forehead, falls to the dirt and makes him feel awkward, sheepish, alienated. “I don’t know. What’s an alliance again?” [/color] He cocks his head in its typical ‘okay please enlighten me now’ stance on his shoulders, and as he waits for an answer he begins to paw at Collinflower and start to attempt to drag him to his knees, at least. “What alliance are you?”[/color] The word is still foreign and his mouth seems to recognize it as ‘inedible’, spitting it out in a strange, tentative tone. “And do you want to go see Emory? Right now? ‘Cause he’s usually pretty agreeable when he’s just getting up, promise.”[/color]

His face breaks in two at the possibility that Kyle has to be somewhere instead of the cool, cemented crypts where Emmy’s sleeping. Please don’t make him go another day without his Collinflower, because too many have gone by already. Kyle was lying when he said Mars would never know how much he was loved or missed, because it’s been painfully reciprocated.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

NOTES: K TEAM DIPSHIT DEFIES PROOFREADING and proper graphics on my end (iamstilllookingily D: )

[kyle collins]

Seeing a smile on Mars’s face in itself made Kyle ecstatic, because hell, words could not capture how much he had feared for Mars and for Emory. There had been a few instances where, in times of utter hopelessness and desolation, his mind had wandered toward the ‘what if?..’ end of the scale. And that was never a good place to go. ‘What if Mars was injured? What if they were dead? What if they were.. Zombies?’ And on one occasion, Kyle had considered what he’d do if he did run into Mars and Emmy – zombie version. God knows that they’d try to eat/maim/kill him and rip him into tiny little shreds, but even more sure than that was the fact that he’d never be able to actually kill them. Never. Even if he had a gun in his hand, pointing towards one of them as they lunged at him – he just wasn't capable of it. These thoughts had proved too painful and so he had rejected them; refused them entry from his brain, and continued in his little bubble of Kyle-like optimism. Because they would be fine. And they were. Mars was here and he was living proof that the Siinfels were alive, non zombified and in one piece.

The zombies had always been a touchy topic with Kyle. Most humans seemed completely fine with gunning them down because, hell, they weren’t human any more – they were just the dead remnants of what used to be. And they should be dead, not crawling around feasting on the living. It made sense to kill them. And then there was natural instinct: self preservation. It was human instinct to put yourself first and to save others second; if a zombie threw itself at you, you’d kill it if you could. All of this made was perfectly understandable to Kyle – but he couldn't bring himself to kill them. He couldn't bring himself to place his own life before that of someone else’s (whether they were supposed to be dead or not). But there was that little selfish bit of him that also refused to die – didn't want to die. Kyle, as of yet, hadn’t been placed in a ‘shoot-or-die’ situation (hell, he’d almost become zombie fodder a few times before, but nothing that he couldn't runlikehell from. But now they were getting faster, smarter, and he was wondering how long it’d take before he’d have to make this decision) – but he also knew that if it was one of his friends or family, like Mars or Emory or Ash, about to become zombie chow, then he’d pull the trigger and kill the thing... Did that make him a bad person? Because wasn't it selfish to put your friends before others, too?

..But all this thinking is making his brain hurt and he abandons it by now, becoming completely sidetracked when Mars utters the word ‘TWINKIES’. “TWINKIES?!” Kyle squeaks, because “TWINKIES ARE FULL OF AWESOME AND WIN AND AMAZING-NESS.” If he could’ve, this would have been an –insert rant about what he has been forced to eat for the past months here- but he found himself unable to complain. Because whilst the alliance’s food was damned awful, his long hours on ground-level let him wander through the remains of supermarkets. And, in the event of a zombie apocalypse, collecting chocolate bars off shop shelves was generally something you didn't concern yourself about too much (unless you were a member of Team Dipshit, of course).

‘I’M SO GLAD NOTHING ATE YOU. Or bit you or hurt you ‘cause that’d be not rad’ and woah – Kyle is suddenly being searched. He blinks. Brain (whom he likes to call ‘George’) catches up with him and he realises that the kid is making sure he hasn’t been nommed on by a zombie. “Ohhhh,” he says, out loud. “You, umm, don’t need to worry. I’m cool,” Kyle is at a loss of what to say because the whole areyouokay thing is completely foreign to him and he’s not sure why Mars is being so nice – because although that’s all he ever wanted, actually receiving it was something he’d once thought unattainable.

Because although Team Dipshit were so alike it was laughable, their histories couldn't have been more different. On one end of the scale was Mars – smothered from a young age and protected from everything (hence why he never progressed past the mental age of seven), whereas Kyle had once been cared for, albeit not brilliantly, and then been suddenly thrust into the world completely on his own (..except if a crazed half-brother who frequently tried to kill him, counted). They were both fucked up in their own way.

Mars tells him where Emory is, and his heart skips a beat at the thought of being able to see Giant Emory again (because although Mars has already told him that he’s fine, there’s nothing more satisfying than seeing it with your own eyes). He feels the blond start trying to shift him and he complies, flailing around for a bit before struggling to his feet and helping drag Mars up too (despite how he almost faceplanted the floor because Mars was tall, damnit), practically skipping around him in circles. “UMYEAHLET’SGO!” he says, feeling another surge of adrenaline and energy. Then he pauses, backtracks a few steps, and retrieves the gas mask which he had yanked off before entering the building (extremely clever there, Kyle) and had dropped in his sprinting towards the blond. He spun it on his finger. “You’ve got one of these somewhere right?!” he wonders out loud, because if he didn't that would be baaaad. And then Mars suggests that he lives with him and Emmy and he seriously considers it (because to be a Siinfel-tag-along would complete his life, and the thought of losing the two guys again is physically painful) but he also knows that Emmy would disapprove. And Emmy is almost like the parental figure here. So he shrugs. “I don’t think Emmy..” he begins, but trails off because he doesn’t want to upset Mars – instead focusing on the new topic which had just arisen: alliances.

“It’s.. Umm.. Like.. A.. Club!” Kyle shoots him a cheesy grin. “It helps stop people from.. Like.. Dying.” Because it’s true. That’s the (supposed) point of them – and to fire at each other, of course. Kyle decides to leave it at that – because he also recognises that this is a matter for Emmy. Emmy would have to be the one to decide if Mars was to join an alliance, because he did know how protective he was over the kid. But hell, Kyle would try his hardest to persuade him. “Onwards!” cue superman pose and a general sticking-like-glue to Mars’s side.

[/size]

notes: hmmmm
wc: 1125[/justify][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

[mars mario luigi siinfel]

“THEY ARE.” Mars replies, and nuzzles his fellow dipshit just one more time because Kyle is the only other creature on the entirety of this charred, zombie-infested earth that can grasp how freaking awesome derivatives of petroleum TWINKIES can be. His Kyle’s drawn a little too thin even for his liking and he thinks maybe a package or two of the goldenyellowawesomebars will fix that. (PROTIP: IT IS MUCH PREFERABLE TO HAVE TO ROLL A KYLE THAN TO LET STICKLEGS CARRY HIM.) He is still celebrating the fact that he's no longer Kyle-less, a mere half-Mars without him. No longer filled with that indescribable uneasiness, black and heavy, that claws in his stomach when he catches Emory making a zombie kill out of the corner of his eye. There’s been a subconscious fear in his sunshiney self, one that he won’t understand until he mentally ages to 18 (this is expected to happen in his late 40’s), that maybe Emory was off gunning down what could have once been a Kyle.

The look of surprise on Kyle’s face inexplicably strikes a chord inside and momentarily depresses him; he’s not entirely sure why or how. It’s... normal for people to check one another for zombie bites, right? Emory does it all the time although the people he’s inspected in the past have a strange tendency of going missing shortly after. Nonetheless, Kyle should be aware that Mars is always going to want to look out for the kid and make sure no zombie decided he would make for a nice meal. He makes a dismissive, “ffffzzzzt” sound and waves his arms like a disgruntled penguin before disengaging himself from Kahl’s arm. Kyle has to get used to the fact that the other half of Team Dipshit was not intent on letting him get nommed on any time soon--not by a zombie, at least. Team Dipshit cares not for its individual preservation, but for its protection as a whole.

By the time he’s pondering forcing this ideal onto Kyle they’ve somehow (almost) found themselves on their feet. “UMYEAHLET’SGO!” The human slipper Kyle skips circles around him before retrieving a gas mask and flinging it around on his finger. Mars watches but only in the hopes he’ll watch it fly off and reach an awesome height. The fact that Kyle tries to make sure he’s got one of these unnerves him, because his gas mask is a vile little thing and he can never quite adjust to the smell. You’d think it'd be preferable to the miasma that currently coats the earth but--apparently not for Mars. “Yeah.” He mutters, patting down on his figure, trying to find out where exactly he’s misplaced the thing this time. Did he pull a Kyle and drop his, too? Did it eject itself from his face a few yards back? A quick check of the grounds says no. Oh, right. He’d been ghost/cat-hunting and gas masks are never practical in those hunts, apparently. “Uhhh. Er. IthinkIkindofsortofmighthaveleftitwithEmmy.” Just another reason to start booking it to the Cave of Wonders and Treasures and Emmy.

When Kyle starts that ‘I don’t think Emmy...’ his lungs--no, entire being seem to deflate a little. Letting Kyle play Siinfel tag all day sounds like the perfect conclusion to his lifestory. It’s still impossible for him to grasp that GiantEmory doesn’t share his love for Kyle or that the guy’s feelings are instead (rather openly) on the other side of the spectrum. Kylecontempt is a strange and foreign concept and he’s not sure he likes it. “He’ll come around.” There was a point, juuuuuust before the original Ebola wave hit, that Mars had found himself on the verge of Emory-freedom (there was a certain red-haired insomniac college kid to blame for that) but of course this whole zombie apocalypse thing had made Emory relapse completely. He thinks maybe with a little persuading (by ‘persuading’ he means ‘literally throwing himself at Emory’s feet, begging and pleading, “CAN WE KEEP HIM?”) Emory could come around to the idea of Kyle as The Third Siinfel. (He doesn’t realize there is already such a thing.)

HELLO TANGENT! His brain, proud owner of that spideroncrack attention span, suddenly decides to chase Kyle’s ramblings about alliances instead. A club that prevents people from getting killed is something he wants to join, especially if it’s anything like Team Dipshit. (lololteamdipshitstoppingpeoplefromdying.) But he guesses the only clubs he’s in are Pro-Kyle and Pro-Emmy, so he just shrugs and supposes his older brother / father figure will be the one subjected to the questions that involve the actual use of grey matter. ‘Onwards!’ calls the Kyle, and Mars has to agree, pulling out his opposite arm in a superman pose and hauling ass towards the crypts. “To the great indoors!” He announces. EMMY WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT HE JUST FOUND.

The concrete cells--er, we mean apartments--are navigated carefully (by Mars’s standards, at least). The sound of their scraping footsteps is enough to make him jump, so brain tries to distract itself and forces him to ask, “Seen any flamingos lately?” The ‘gingos are infamous--Emory still mumbles about Clarence in his sleep sometimes, about how his beltloops are so empty without those plastic lawn ornaments.

(Mars doesn’t get it, but he figures Kyle might. If not, flamingos are still awesome creatures and great smalltalk.)

And it’s on that note that Mars and his Kyle accessory peel open the apartment door and fall forward (in a dipshit pile of limbs). With barren walls of regurgitated concrete and the approximate temperature of a meat locker, the place is proooobably about as welcoming as an abattoir. But a limp, shaggy-mopped figure lays in a grizzly bear coma on the opposite side of the room, Mars’s teddything secured in its midsts. The beast grunts and turns; mutters something about owing someone a broken arm. Kyle thought that there would be nothing more satisfying than enjoying Emory’s attempts to kill him in the flesh seeing Emory with his own eyes? Mars hopes this is good enough.

From the pile of limbs, Mars murmurs an encouraging, “gogogogo!”

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HELLO I LOVE YOU. SO MUCH.
soi'msorrythatthissuckssrslysrsly.
MISTER GOOGLYCHIN TOTALLY MAKES UP FOR IT.[/center]