Work Text:
1. Mural
It wasn’t as if Addison was a great artist, or even really a mediocre artist, but painting the new mural for the Mountain College gym had sounded like great community service, and a good way to branch out with new skills that didn’t include flipping and waving pom poms. So, when the art department had reached out about needing volunteers for the project she had jumped at the chance, signing herself and Zed up to design and create a beautiful and active mural for the currently bare brick wall.
Unfortunately, that lack of artistic talent and skill was rapidly making itself apparent as an issue. The quick sketch she and Zed had doodled up with sparkly gel pen had seemed simple enough to make a reality on the bricks, but now as they stood before the wall, dripping paintbrushes in hand, staring up at splotchy figures with stiff poses, they realized their collective lack of painting experience was more than just a minor setback. The menagerie of painted athletes almost seemed to judge them back.
“Oh,” Addison sighed, “oh no. They’re worse than stick figures! They look awful!”
Zed held back a giggle as he said, “their eyes are deader than mine.”
Addison sank into herself, dark eyebrows furrowed as she pouted in genuine disappointment. She’d thought she’d do better, even if it wasn’t her usual activity, she didn’t think it would turn out this bad . She fiddled with a strand of blue tipped hair.
As if sensing her thought process, Zed wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her toward him. She could feel his voice rumble against her head as he said, “honestly, I thought I’d be better at this! I’ve been doing DIY my whole life, but I guess this is a different skill set, huh?”
Addison just shuffled a sneakered foot and tensely asked, “how on Earth, or the rest of the galaxy for that matter, are we going to fix this?”
The zombie seemed to think for a minute, running a thumb back and forth on Addy’s shoulder until it left its post tensed up toward her ears. Then, he made a sound of realization, “well, come to think of it, Bonzo always helped me design my coverall reworks,” Zed smiled, “did you see his latest mural in ZombieTown?”
Movement from Addison, “the one with the alien and the werewolf holding hands? Yeah, it was really gorgeous.”
Zed simply looked at her, still grinning.
Addison pushed away from him slightly, brow furrowing impossibly deeper, “you don’t mean— no! Zed we can’t make him solve our problems for us! It wouldn’t be fair!” taking a moral stand, as usual .
Cheerleader and zombie stood together under the empty eyes of their creation for another several moments before speaking together, “although…”
Bonzo had been looking for a new project, and upon getting the call from Zed hailing for aid, simply took a turn in his van to head toward Mountain College. By the end of the night the three together had created quite the beautiful mural, truly inspiring to the athletes of the school. The bulk of the work had wound up falling on Bonzo’s broad shoulders, but he waved off any apologies with a, “zerax uh grep ag garzenuhs.” Happy to help my friends.
After he’d piled his supplies back into his van, but before he’d gotten in himself, he turned toward Addison, who was certainly more cheerful than she’d been when he’d first arrived to help, but her usually bright gaze was still dimmed. He clapped a hand on her shoulder, and hugged her happily, saying, “Addiska, ru zrilled grarska.” Addison, you’re a skilled artist .
2. Music
Earthly technology was largely easy for the aliens to pick up, it being rather more simple than their own. A-Li had figured out how to use her new “laptop” within a matter of seconds, downloading all the needed information smoothly, as she’d come to get used to in her new home in Seabrook. That information included how to use the music mixing software. However, she still didn’t fully understand its purpose.
She and A-Lan had been fiddling with the program for a few hours, desperately trying to make an enjoyable song. Their central problem, though they hadn’t realized it yet, was that alien music wasn’t made in such ways. When an alien found a tune they found pleasant, they simply shared it with others through their telepathic link. Any music also had no lyrics, as they held potential for conflict. What they’d heard thus far on Earth was very new to them, and they struggled to comprehend it, even having downloaded all knowledge of musical history and content. If anything that made things more confusing.
It seemed music came in many forms across the world, including different scales, playing styles, and vocal techniques. Zombies and werewolves also had their own musical ways. All of it was new to the aliens, and they couldn’t figure out how to meld this new information with what they already knew to create a great song. It was only supposed to be a fun pastime, a way to spend an afternoon, but quickly A-Lan’s sense of competition and A-Li’s tendency to get frustrated easily had led to a near laptop-smashing, and raised voices as the music program itself was threatened with vaporization.
Thankfully, no one had to find out what that would look like, because the two extraterrestrial teens heard sound from outside. They looked out the window to see Bonzo busking on the corner, a common sight since graduation. A-Lan and A-Li spoke into each other’s minds, “ perfect! ”
The gentle zombie giant had made himself known for his musical prowess, and even if they hadn’t scanned so many of the minds in Seabrook, the aliens would certainly be aware of Bonzo’s talents. Just recently A-Spen had shared his mixtape with them, saying Willa had been listening to it. The music had been decidedly very zombie, but influences from other forms of music were clear, and flowed beautifully with the Z-Tongue lyrics Bonzo had written.
A slightly-damaged laptop was shortly shoved under his nose, and he spent the rest of his afternoon helping his new blue-haired friends to form their ideas into concrete music with the program. When they finished, and together listened to the lovely fusion song, A-Lan and A-Li were thankful for their universal translators as Bonzo grinned at them both and gleefully chuckled, “zreek gruzic!” Sweet music!
3. Mount
Bonzo and Bree had been invited to the wolf’s den by Wyatt for a werewolf celebration. Apparently it was going to be a blue moon that night, and the pack was taking the chance to throw a party in their cavernous home. Bree appreciated the opportunity to learn more about werewolf culture from her friends, and Bonzo did as well, though he himself would readily admit he was more focused on the food at the event than anything else.
He could hear Willa enrapturing the werepups with the pack’s legends of the blue moon’s importance, and Wyatt giving Bree a much more simplified explanation, “double the moon, double the fun!”
The beta wolf’s raspy voiced continued, but Bonzo let his attention rest on Bree, who sat excitedly listening. Garoka, God, he really loved her. Once he felt more stable in his artistic career he fully intended on proposing. A woman as phenomenal as Bree deserved a life of luxury, and though he knew she could support herself just fine, he wanted to be in a place to provide for her as well. She was planning on a degree in marine biology, and Bonzo loved to listen to her ramble about the kingdoms and food chains and what have you. It didn’t really particularly interest him personally, but anything that brought his Bree joy brought it to him too.
Speaking of rambling however, Bonzo now noticed Wyatt had stopped speaking. As had Willa in fact. Both pack leaders had turned their attentions on a werepup, and Wyatt seemed to be trying to dilute Willa’s ire toward the kid. Keying into the situation, Bonzo soon understood the child had been playing with their moonstone while listening to Willa, tossing it up in the air and catching it as it came back down. Clumsy young paws had fumbled, and managed to toss the precious stone too high, where it had now gotten stuck on a limestone shelf high on the cave wall.
Wordlessly, Bonzo stood, analyzing the situation. The shelf was a solid three times his own height up the wall, and even with his highest jump, he doubted he could reach it. He knew of one other way to reach it however.
Smiling slyly, he tapped Bree on the shoulder to get her attention, and whispered his plan in her ear. The hushed tones were rather needless really, it wasn’t as if any of the werewolves were strong speakers of Z-Tongue, even now, but he didn’t want Willa’s glare to turn his way. Even when he knew it wasn’t directed toward him, the fury of the alpha was intimidating.
Bree nodded at his idea, grinning brightly in that adorable way she has. Still trying not to call too much attention to themselves, Bonzo took his stance as base, creating a foothold for Bree. He hadn’t thought his years as a cheerleader would ever have real life applications, but now it seemed he’d found one as he lifted Bree up, and launched her up toward the lost stone. The flyer took the task with grace, grabbing the cord of the necklace tightly before falling back into the awaiting arms of her loving zomboyfriend, who caught her with practiced ease. He landed a quick peck on the cheek in thanks before releasing her.
He let her return the moonstone to the young pup to Willa and Wyatt’s great appreciation. Bonzo himself simply turned back to his meal, smiling happily.
+1. Mechanics
Bonzo was only a week into his local tour when it happened. On the way to a gig his old van sputtered, making an awful grinding noise that made him nearly take his hands from the wheel to cover his ears. However, he simply guided the vehicle to the roadside, where it fully died, with one last wheeze of the engine, and a puff of dark smoke from the exhaust, his van was no more. Well, it was still a van, just a rather unusually stationary one now.
He popped the hood to confirm the unfixability of the problem, and found it was indeed not something he could solve, not now, not without significant parts and tools, and not alone. Not a very angry guy, the big zombie lug’s frustration instead took the form of a deep tiredness, and it was sadly apparent as he slumped against the side of the old car that had become his home in recent months.
A dry sob wracked his large body, and he considered his options. He could simply sit on the side of the road, and make absolutely no progress toward anything. Or, he could call a friend and ask for help.
He’d taken out his phone before he could even finish the thought, the answer clear, and he slowly typed out a message to the new groupchat Addison had created for everyone to maintain contact while some were at college. His fingers struggled with the buttons, a zombie’s natural tremor not particularly conducive to the activity, but he completed the text, and sent it.
He also messaged his client to let them know he wouldn’t make the gig. Then, began the very boring process of waiting.
Thankfully it is pretty easy to entertain oneself when armed with a van full of musical equipment and art supplies. By the time a tow truck entered his vision he had already completed a new song, and begun a design for a new logo for his future record label. Behind the wheel of the truck was a familiar face, and Bonzo excitedly greeted Zed’s dad, Mr. Necrodopoulus. Zevon returned the greeting, both speaking Z-Tongue. As much as Bonzo loved hanging out with his friends of all groups and species, it was often annoying having to have his words translated every time he spoke. Though, he’d never bring it up. He knew for a fact that Bree was teaching the wolves and aliens Z-Tongue in her free time, and Addison had really improved from being with Zed.
One pleasant, yet still stressful car ride later, Bonzo was back in ZombieTown, where Eliza’s mother, his own stepmother, hugged him, before stepping aside with a smile to let him see what sat in the middle of the road.
A brand new van, with custom rims and maroon corduroy upholstered seats, was parked on the main street of ZombieTown, surrounded by his closest friends. He could see Zed and Addison, home on break from Mountain College, both listening to Eliza, as she went through the list of necessities for the vehicle. Willa stood by A-Spen as they used their stardust to lift belongings from the broken down old van and transfer them to the new one. Wyatt, Wynter, and the other two aliens all seemed to be under the command of Bree, who directed them as they acted as a mini pit-crew, ensuring everything was perfect.
Bonzo didn’t consider himself a big crier, even if he’d come close earlier in the day, but now the tears fell, and he ran to sweep as many of his friends as he could fit in his arms into the most enthusiastic hug of his life. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve as Bree explained how money had been pooled together, and parents had contributed. Eliza told him the specs of the new vehicle, which he didn’t really understand, but they sure sounded good. Certainly better than the old van, which, though he loved it, had really been the only junk trunk he could afford at the time.
It was perfect. Except for one thing.
“Na-kal?” No color? He asked, gesturing to the pure white van.
At that, the group’s smiles widened somehow further, and cans of spray paint were brought out. The rest of the day was spent in a painting party, creating the perfect home for Bonzo, who felt truly loved. Man, he was glad to have such good friends as these.