heroforhobby | Continuation of Futuro thread...

Continuation of Futuro thread...

Whole thread. . Under the cut Zenyatta's last reply.

[ He orders his oil, and yeah, it looks about as appealing as oil... does. Slimy, thick, brownish black goop. It also comes with a bright pink straw. He still observes Saitama, taking a small sip through his very small mouth port. His model style originally did need to consume oil to exercise certain higher leveled tasks, and so the processing units for the liquid are still in him... But with time, as it became unnecessary, mouth ports became smaller. Much harder to drink from. Straws help. ]

It is ... nice.

[ Something's bugging Saitama. Zenyatta knows, it isn't regret ovr his rude behavior. ]

... The Iris is not... exclusive. I believe you will find you are as welcome within the Iris as so many others.

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[He crests the top with Zenyatta but doesn't quite get what the robot was showing him. He was probably expecting an animal or a bigger, cooler robot.]

Huh? What're we looking at?

[Please make him notice the beauty of nature, robomonk.]

Pure serenity, Saitama.

[ It's quiet. It's calm. Nothing is moving, except for the slight gust of wind to sift the snow around them. He's quiet for a while, eventually sobering up as the oil processes through his system. ]

We are on another world, in another dimension, brought here to travel across planets to stop conflicts... But some aspects of life will always remain the same. There will always be chaos. There will always be peace. There will always be fulfilment, and there will always be suffering.

[The booze can't process as quickly through Saitama's system, which was probably a good thing since it does seem to put him in a little more maudlin mood. He finally pays attention to the quiet nature around them, and even as he crosses his arms to tuck bare hands into his cozier armpits he doesn't lose Zenyatta's perspective.]

Yeah, I guess you're right...little less monsterous chaos than my world so far, but overall, yeah. [He pauses for a moment, then adds a little lowly:] ...It'd be nice to find fulfillment in all this.

You will not find fulfilment if you search for it. To search with desire will result in more emptiness than you started with.

[His brows furrow at this insight.]

That goes against anything I've ever been told.

[He's not being argumentative, but since a kid he was told to have goals and tats how you'd achieve greatness. He was never good at finding a goal in the first place, let alone achieving it--that is, until he achieved far too much.]

What were you trying to achieve, with that advice?

[ Because "getting a medal" and "achieving enlightenment" are two very different things. ]

[He has to think a moment, staring at the trees swaying in the wind.]

Just...a life, I guess.

Life is not something that can be dictated by action and choices. You are a snowflake in the wind- at the whim of where life will take you.

Does a snowflake ever land in the wrong place?

I'm no good with riddles.

[He complains, shifting and readjusting his hands under his arms.]

But that's easier said than done where I'm from.

It is not a riddle.

[ god, it's no, the answer is no. no snowflake lands in the wrong place. ]

You are not where you are from.

[Look, he has 3 or 4 screwdrivers in him, catch him some slack.]

Yeah. [His head ducks a bit, burying his face from nose down in the scarf, as if seeking comfort and warmth.] I'm not trying anymore, anyway, so I guess I'm doing what you said.

[It's called depression, and it's not very zen, Saitama.]

And yet, I still have the distinct feeling that you are not at peace. You are still not yet free from your attachment.

Hmmm.

[He doesn't know how to reply to that. So he'll smoothly change the subject.]

What kinda trees you think those are?

Evergreen. You are avoiding, again. If you do not want to talk about something, please say so.

[Saitama's blunt but sometimes that Japanese sense of politeness prevents him from being THAT blunt.]

It's more I dunno what to say. And evergreen is a type of tree not a tree name.

You did not ask for specifics if you wanted a tree name, or a type.

If you do not know what to say, then you can say that as well. I say these things, because I am worried.

Obviously I mean tree name, I can tell an evergreen from deciduous, I'm not dumb!

[Beat, because that is false anger because who really cares.]

And I know you're worried, it's pretty obvious. [He folds his arms behind his head and starts walking, heading down the opposite side of the hill. He's trying to keep it casual, he can't keep it heavy, it's too weird and unnecessary, really, in his mind.] Guess it's just weird to have someone fussin' over me when it isn't my about doing my laundry or cooking my dinner.

It is called "caring," Saitama. I care for you, as I care for most.

[ Not all. ]

But is pains me when I can sense... certain things, about someone.

[ When they do not feel whole. ]

[He's not sure where he's walking, or weaving, to. Wherever the closest lights were to their current position, but hopefully there wouldn't be a lot of people. He's had a fill of crowds that night.

Hearing the word care makes him inwardly flinch. Not even Genos says that word, and he's weird. Zenyatta must be weirder.]

You're a weird guy, Zenyatta.

[ Yeah, guess Saitama's finally had enough of him... He won't follow after him this time. Bruh deserves some time away now, if that's what he wants. Still, he calls out: ]

Are we not all strange, in our own ways?

I guess so.

[He answers, but in a normal tone, assuming Zenyatta was still by him. Realizing he's not, he stops and looks back at him, eyebrow raised.]

You not coming with me?

[Zenyatta isn't as bothersome as a castle full of strangers.]

Ah...?

[ Oh, now that's not something he expected. ]

I assumed calling me weird and walking away was your way of expressing farewell.

[ But he'll catch up again. Slowly. ]

Edited 2017-02-22 02:42 (UTC)

I would've said good bye.

[Duh, Zenyatta. How could you mistake someone abruptly walking as them trying to leave?

He waits till he's caught up again, then, stuffing cold hands into his pockets, starts walking again. After a few seconds of comfortable silence, he accuses:]

When you called me strange were you talking about how I'm bald at 25.

No. I have seen much younger humans as bald as you.

[ Babies. ]

And I have been bald since I was made.

...Is it that much of a worry for you?

You wouldn't get it, you're a robot.

[Out of all the conversations they've had this night, this is the subject that makes him sound annoyed. And thus like a petty jerk.]

...who's bald and younger than me?

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