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There they were, floating in their spaceship as everybody slept. Wit-Nit’s face pressed against a pillow. Ares was busy extracting blood from multiple places on his body for testing.
On day one of their space missions, Wit-Nit approached Ares with an uncomfortable stare and awkward sniffing. Wit-Nit didn’t even need to sniff Ares like he was some wild animal; he just felt like it. After that moment, Ares adopted this strange creature as his experiment, as he was curious about what exactly this guy was.
Ares had found out that Wit-Nit had two different blood types in his arms, so he wanted to see how many blood types Wit-Nit had in each body part.
The scientist wrapped something tight around Wit-Nit’s thigh on his left leg. “Flex your leg,” Ares commanded. He carried himself like a rushed and uncaring doctor, just wishing to get the day done. He sticks a needle in the fold of the creature's leg. “Good,” He removes the tight bandage, letting the blood flow into the needle.
Once the syringe was full enough, Ares removed it and held a cotton ball on the punctured skin as he swiftly took the needle apart and placed the vial in a rack with other blood-filled vials. He then not-so-carefully places a band-aid on Wit-Nit. We’re done; get up. For now," he commanded, mumbling the last part with a small smirk.
Meanwhile, Wit-Nit rolls onto his back, band-aids of various colours distributed across his arms and abdomen. He was usually a silly little guy with an intense but bubbly nature. Right now, however, he was tired. His body was trying to recover from the blood loss.
He looked at Ares, hunched over the make-shift table, where he looked at a drop of blood and took notes on a small piece of paper. “Banana man..” Wit-Nit called out, “I don’t feel goob…”
Ares hummed and turned around to face Wit-Nit. “Hm?” He got up, wiping the small drops of blood off his hands with his coat. “How do you feel?” He placed a hand on the other's forehead to check for temperature changes.
“Like my head is light… And my skin is tingling.” Wit-Nit complains with a pout, making Ares hum, grabbing a metal pipe that fell off the broken ship after Prexi crashed it. Wit-Nit’s eyes widened. “Wuh-” “Hold still”
Ares raised the pipe and looked down at Wit-Nit with a dark gaze, his expression covered with a shadow, but the bloody glint in his eyes still visible.
Wit-Nit yelps and attempts to squirm away, falling halfway off the recliner chair. Ares uses his other hand and attempts to keep Wit-Nit in place. “I said hold still-” Wit-Nit was still trying to get away, yelling for Ares to stop. The Elf struggled with Wit-Nit and eventually tackled him to the floor. “What the fuck! Get off!!” Wit-Nit yelled.
Ares groaned. “Shut the hell up!” He pinned one of the Dragonborn’s arms to the cold floor. Wit-Nit’s other hand shoots up to hit Ares' face, making him yelp and drop the pipe, grabbing and pinning his other hand down too. The creature continued to squirm the best he could against the man above him. “You’re going to wake the others-”
The door opens up, making the two turn their heads to see Amethyst, the newest member of S.E.X., walking in and suddenly stopping when she sees Ares on top of Wit-Nit, pinning him down by the arms.
“...”
“...”
“... What the fu-” Ares interrupts her by throwing the metal pipe at her face. “Get the hell out, I am experimenting!” He yells at the now hurt Amethyst.
“It looks like you’re doing a lot more-” A shoe gets thrown at her. “Get. Out. I am a respected Scientist, and I do not do that with my experiments!” He states as he picks Wit-Nit up and throws him back onto the chair. “Go back to sleep, you rock. And don’t insult me again,” Ares crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Amethyst like a parent waiting for a child to follow orders. “Got it?”
Amethyst is still suspicious, but the pipe and shoe thrown at her took a toll on her health quite a bit, and she needed a long rest. Besides, what's the worst an Elf can do to a Dragonborn?
Amethyst sighs and walks out, taking one last look at Ares and then Wit-Nit. There was something suspicious about Ares; he was just weird, and he didn’t even buy anything when they stopped at stores. He didn’t belong here, in this crew or in this universe was unclear.
The door closes, leaving Ares and Wit-Nit alone again. Ares sighs and turns back to his experiment to find him in the ceiling corner, far away from Ares. The Elf freezes up for a moment in shock. “Hey-” Wit-Nit hisses at Ares, making him perceive his lips and put his hands up. “Alright.. Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you-” “You tried to hit me with a pipe”. Wit-Nit looked untrusting of Ares, after all, he tackled him just seconds ago in the name of science.
The Elf sighs, “Scheißtier..” he mumbles under his breath. He couldn’t blame Wit-Nit; the only reason he threatened him like that was to see how he responded to fear, and now he needed to deal with the consequences of a terrified Wit-Nit.
“Listen, Wit-Nit. I’m sorry for.. Scaring you.. I didn’t… Mean to?” Ares said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His pauses and dishonesty filled his words.
Ares looked outside the ship’s window, his eyes landing on a distant planet before turning to Wit-Nit again. The two are very different. A planet has no emotions, it can’t feel, and it just lets things happen to it. Ares had spent so much time studying planets and chemicals that he had forgotten how to treat living things with emotions and a soul.
“I’m still your friend. You know that, right?” he said, his tone softer but still tainted with forced comfort. “ Please come back down, we’re done with tests.”
Wit-Nit stared at Ares with uncertainty and suspicion, for a couple of seconds.
“Okay!” Wit-Nit smiled and dropped from the ceiling, holding himself up with his cane.
Ares was a little shocked by the ease of his forgiveness, but accepted Wit-Nit’s trusting and childish nature. “Good. Now, you can go rest.” Ares wipes his hands off.
Wit-Nit tilted his head to the side (it was more his upper body going slack to the side, but you get the message) “Just me?” Ares nodded, making the creature's face morph into a ‘>:(‘ expression.
The Elf continued to clean his equipment and write stuff down in his notebook as Wit-Nit crept up to his side, his face forming into an ‘>:3’ expression.
“Hey. Hey Ares,” “I thought I told you to go to sleep,” Ares responded, not taking his eyes off his notes. “But Ares-” “You’re the weakest out of all of us, you need your health.”
Silence followed, then a poke of a finger hit Ares' side. He ignored it. Wit-Nit kept poking, getting faster each time.
Ares' frustration grew each passing second. “Stop it, or I’ll beat you again.” Wit-Nit gained a ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) face, and Ares groaned. “Just go to bed, you filthy Saukerl-” Halfway through his sentence, Wit-Nit hoisted him up into his tall, lanky frame and proceeded to spawn a blanket and sit down on the floor with Ares staying in the crisscrossed legs like one would when in a pool donut.
The scientist was more confused than angry. “If this will get you to go to sleep, then so be it, just don’t eat me,” he sighed, leaning back on Wit-Nit’s chest.
“Yay:D” The Dragonborn responded, taking off Ares’ glasses while almost poking him in the eye.
I don’t like writing long stories, so there's a very slight time skip.
Wit-Nit was asleep against the wall, his arms wrapped around Ares. The shorter one wasn't asleep because he's an elf, but he was in deep meditation.. Thinking…
The swaying of the trees, leafs crunching against the hard ground, winter was almost here yet this was the warmest he had ever been, “Naftali?” the fair haired boy spoke, adjusting his position on his friend. “Hm?” the other responded, letting him sit up to make eye contact.
“Do you think.. We could dance again? His grip on the other teen tightened, like he was pleading, not asking. “It’s late, Fenrir… Don’t you think your parents are waiting for you?” please “I know…” he starts to get up by placing his foot on the ground. Don’t leave.
“Just one slow dance?” yes
Naftali smiles. “You know I can’t resist that face”
The two stand up, their hands hand in hand. His clothes smelled faintly of hot stove and spices, the sun on his head bright but gentle. His partner, whose hair absorbed the light, wore a hand-fitted jacket, though a gold star covered the brand.
Their feet moved along the rough ground covered with autumn leafs and footprints that had long settled in. Each step was God's attempt to fail them, but the teens pushed past it, their bodies acting as one.
Fenrir smiled, sliding his hand up the other's arm to grip his shoulder. “If only there were music… I would die for a nice violin right now” Naftali’s lips turn upwards into a grin.
“Well, m̷a̶y̸b̸̪́e̵̺͌ ̸͇̋ö̴́ͅn̷͓̈́e̴̲̓ ̴̥̦͊̀d̵͉̣̾͝ã̷̪̭y̸͓͂ w̷̧̭̫̮̅̀̆̂ę̵̗̃̊͋ ̶̘̽ͅc̶̓͑͜ȏ̵̢̦̹̐͂͜u̵͇͓̓l̷͍̐̂̈́͘d̸͔̒͊́̿,” his hands fell cold, and the blond boy fell onto the hard tiled floor.
No
“Naft-” a car drove away, its windows tinted in black. “Naftali!” He tried to go after him, but a pair of hands held him back, wrapping around his stomach. It felt like daggers were penetrating his skin. He collapsed, his head hitting hot concrete, burning from the sun's heat. He felt the coldness of his father's restaurant and the burning heat of the concrete outside. He felt everything around him shift until he fell, for eternity.
“Please” Please
“Don’t leave” Come back
Ares gasped a little, sitting up. He gripped his head while pain rattled in his skull. “Ares,” a familiar southern woman, walked up to him. “You alright?” he squinted his eyes, his other hand tapping the floor to find his glasses.
Everyone was looking at him, they all seemed to have woken up and were already discussing what to do. All the attention was making him pissed. “Nobody bothered to wake me up, huh? Tch” As he stood up, he tugged at the long pieces of hair falling on the side of his face.
"I thought you were dead," Prexi hummed, her thick Southern accent evident. “But now I’m just disappointed”
“Shut your trap.” Unfortunately, his creator rolled low on intimidation, so Ares didn’t sound threatening like he wanted. He sounded more like an old man angry that kids are on his property.
The Texan snorted, "Yeah, sure, alright," followed by a small snicker.
Ares’s face was a little red now, and his eyes were burning with hate. “Dumkoff,” he mumbled as she turned around and continued the discussion with everybody else.
The elf screeches his stubbled face before locking eyes with Wit-Nit, he knows something. The Dragonborn looked away quickly and limped forward with the help of his cane to talk to someone else.
‘I am going to put new limbs on him if he says anything… And they are not going to be good limbs’