[M|IC] The Price of Life (Ashen and Naming)

[Namingtoohard]

“I did tell you that I’m working tonight” Zula pointed out, but in a more conciliatory tone than before. Now that her blood had cooled, she couldn’t really blame Froste for forgetting. Not after all the other shit that had gone down between them today, and everything they’d done in the time since. Or perhaps it was her outfit throwing them off. Zula hadn’t missed the way Froste had eyed her attire, and she didn’t really look like she was dressed for any sort of traditional labor, by design. Regardless, she waited patiently as Froste shuffled past her, before pushing the front door closed behind them.

Once the latch clicked into place, Zula turned to face her guest again. She folded both of her arms across her chest and leaned against the hallway wall, her expression contemplative. For a brief moment, she considered excusing herself, citing work as her excuse. Zula didn’t need to clock on and off at specific times, the way most people did, but Froste didn’t know that. Then they called her name, and Zula promptly decided against it. A few extra minutes wouldn’t make any real difference to her plans, and lying now would only bite her in the ass later. She needed to make this work, and if Froste was ready to talk, then hearing them out was the least she could do.

Zula hadn’t been expecting an actual apology, just because she wasn’t in the habit of giving them, either. But Froste had always been overwhelmingly polite, and it appeared that this was no exception. Her expression softened at their words, in much the same way her tone had earlier. “We do” she conceded, before chuckling softly at the joke that followed. Zula turned her head away from Froste, then. Her eyes roamed the blank wall opposite, and she chewed on her lower lip absentmindedly, as she considered where to go from here. Thankfully, it didn’t take her long to come up with an answer.

“My employers don’t really care how long my work takes me, so long as I get the results they’re after. If everything goes according to plan, then I’ll only be gone for a couple of hours, and I’ll still get paid a sizeable amount.” Zula knew her words were frustratingly vague, but the last thing she wanted was to scare Froste away again. If they knew the full story, they’d probably think she was some sort of psycho, and…well, that assessment wouldn’t be completely unfair. “Tomorrow, we’ll use some of that money to get you your own phone and key, so there’s no risk of you getting locked out in future. And maybe a couple more sets of clothes, so you don’t have to wear the same thing every day. We can talk about your new magic then, too.”

While Zula spoke, something else occurred to her. She hadn’t given any thought to how Froste was supposed to feed themselves while she was gone. There weren’t many groceries left in the fridge - they were another thing she’d planned on buying with her upcoming paycheck - and she wasn’t sure how much Froste knew about cooking, anyway. “I didn’t really arrange anything for dinner, but there’s a decent kebab place just down the street. If you’re willing to brave the rain again, you can use my card.” She pulled out her wallet and flipped it open, before pulling the piece of plastic from its sleeve. Zula held it out in offering, then. An olive branch in disguise.

“All you’ve gotta do is tell the workers there that you want to pay by card, and then wave it over the scanner when they hold it out to you. Like you saw me do with my phone yesterday.” She was struck by the urge to ask if they could handle that, but in a rare display of maturity, she resisted. The last thing either of them needed was another argument. Besides, they’d proved themselves capable of surviving at least one afternoon without her. “When I get home, I’m probably going to collapse straight into bed, so I’ll see you in the morning.”

Feeling considerably better about their situation now, Zula excused herself. The question of makeup completely forgotten, she bade Froste farewell, before turning for the door. Once she had double checked that she had everything, she slipped out onto the landing, before pulling it closed behind her. Then Zula started down the stairs, heading towards the front doors, and everything that waited beyond.

[Ashen]

Though Zula assured them that she’d be bringing home a nice paycheck, Froste found it difficult to take solace in all the things Zula thought to get them tomorrow. They frowned at her as they looked over her outfit again. She was so strange and vague about her job, and Froste wondered if she was in some sort of bad business. Was it possible she was going out at this hour dressed like that to sell drugs? Or maybe she was a sex worker off to entertain a regular client. Froste cringed, but they quickly wiped the expression from their face. What room did they have to judge someone trying to earn a living—for them, no less—when all they knew about themselves was from the glimpses they got of a life far worse than what Zula could have been doing?

They nodded along to her instructions about paying for food, and once she handed over her card, Froste ran their fingers over the sleek plastic, wondering how they could pay with a quick wave. They knew how to use a credit card, of course, but this whole contactless thing was bizarre. What if it didn’t work? Or what if their stomach revolted against food? In the excitement of the day, Froste hadn’t gotten the chance to realize how famished they were, but the thought of food was making their mouth water. They thanked Zula and saw her off, hoping, wherever she was going, she would be alright.

After she’d left, they took a moment to ground themselves. It had been such a long day, and they hated leaving so much unresolved, but keeping Zula from her job would have been selfish. They needed to decompress, take a shower and find some clothes and eat something. Nodding to themselves, Froste decided to start on that mental checklist, and they went to the bathroom. As the water ran down their back, they looked over their hands. Their new, ugly scar joined the many others all over their body, and they thought again about how they had fixed themselves. Necromancy. Thinking about it made their head hurt, so they ended their shower early, dried themselves off, and wrapped themselves in a robe that was just a bit too small.

They hadn’t realized how tired they were until, an hour after sitting down on the couch, they opened their eyes again and cursed themselves for dozing. After a quick check of the apartment, Froste confirmed Zula wasn’t back yet. They put on the same clothes they’d worn that day, still damp from the rain, and grabbed Zula’s card to find that kebab place she mentioned. Luckily, it wasn’t too hard to find. They returned to the apartment quickly, relieved that no one had broken in in the time the door had been unlocked, and sat down for their meal.

As they ate in silence, they let their fragmented memories wash over them. They were too tired to silence them. The hollow lab, the beeping monitors, the agonized screams. The thundering explosions, the bursting of ice, the revival of dead skin. Froste stared blearily at their food, suddenly not feeling up to eating.

They fridged what they did not finish and changed back into the robe before plopping down on the couch. Tomorrow would be another long day, and they weren’t looking forward to that conversation with Zula, but they hoped it would spark something new in the foggy expanse that was their memory. Zula clearly thought they would be staying awhile if she was willing to secure them a phone and key. There were worse fates, they considered. Though when they thought of helping Zula, remembering the magic to fix her affliction, that familiar dread returned to them like a warning, and an aggravated sigh escaped their lips as they struggled to understand what any of it meant.

When they did fall asleep, Froste was plagued by more nightmares. This time, they could feel Zula’s flame spreading to every inch of their body, blackening their skin and scorching their hair, disfiguring them so severely that they did not know the person in their reflection. They woke gasping, phantom burns retreating all across their body. They blinked the world into focus.

It was still dark. If Zula was home, they didn’t want to wake her, so they tried to ignore how thunderously their heart beat. Though it took ages, they were able to fall asleep again and slip right back into the same nightmares. Froste whimpered in their sleep, their hand twitching every so often, as they tried to forget the reminders of their dreams.