Chapter Text
Kasper wouldn’t call himself practically useless now.
Like, yeah, okay. Sure. He could barely get out of bed most days, and skating was no longer an option. At least for a while.. That was fine, perfectly fine. Just perfect, really, how his memory failed each time with no rest nor warning.
Just perfect how little subtlety there was to it.
At least, from his own perspective. He hoped. Infected and his arrival along with the disease had caused nothing but relentless suffering to himself now that he was back, in spite of doggedly denying such a statement. Because if there’s something that really grates with Kasper, who had always prided himself on brushing off silly claims, it was the fact that the symptoms clung to him, refusing to leave his body nor system.
Mind you, people’s stares wouldn’t stop nor cease. And its irony was almost laughable given Kasper’s fondness for attention— if only it weren’t coming from the people who only gave nothing but pity looks at him. Almost as if he was inferior.
Almost. Just if he wasn’t so miserable right where he was standing.
And mind you. Kasper cherished a lot of things before this all happened. And it felt so painful to be so aware, yet with no much change unraveling around. No distraction was enough to fill the void in— whatever this all was. Because even Kasper was confused on how to name it.
All he longed was to all be like it was before. No weekly appointments with Dr. Retro, no undesired stares, and no stupid, unnecessary tasks from the talking cat.
And he was the sick one?
Yet, he was in no position to refuse. Not when his life—In a fragile sense of stability— depended on this. Not when he felt like everyone abandoned him just to recover, all by himself. And if Kasper remembered something clearly, was the way he claimed to abhor feeling ignored, as if everything was left to his own hands and discretion. Was the way people expected too much from him when the disease’s influence was just around the corner.
His sense of self had gotten fractured, notoriously. But his sense of hatred towards it all had grown as he recovered. But who was Kasper, if nothing but mad all the time? Because last time he checked, nothing was enough for him to be recognized. Maybe he did need Infected, after all.
And who was Kasper if he wasn’t the character he had built for years? These questions did everything but help, increasing the struggle of it all. He shook his head, suppressing it, and forcefully smiled gently at Dr. Retro.
“I mean. Honestly, if this is how Infected felt in my body, I dunno how he hasn’t killed himself or something.” He shrugged, eyes locked down at his own hands and wrists. “It’s been days and it has been so tiring. Yesterday I slept like, what? sixteen hours? and still feel like shit.”
“Have you done anything that I’ve asked for this session?” Dr. Retro asked.
“Yeah.” Kasper rolled his eyes. Not at her, though. And Dr. Retro knew this well enough to even comment on it. “I’ve taken a walk, explored floors and areas, talking to old friends—Who don’t seem that pleased to share a word or two with me. And other stuff I’ve probably forgotten by now. Nothing that matters, since I still feel like this.”
The doctor glanced up from her notes. “Nothing from it helped?”
“Nope.” Kasper simply replied.
“Not a change?”
“In the slightest."
Dr. Retro sighed and kept on taking notes, keeping her glance down but looking up to check on her patient every now and then.
And she must have figured through his transparent anger, since she has decided not to give up on him.
At least someone expected something from Kasper.
“Have you done anything different lately?”
He shook his head.
“Maybe you should.”
And finally, just finally, Kasper raised his head along a disconcerted gaze, not sure about her statement–Maybe the simplicity of both her answer and a solution rubbed him the wrong way.
What else was left for him to do? What other solution was he blindly ignoring when every given effort had ended up being pointless? His shoulders tensed at the thought. Everything used to be so fitting for his lifestyle, and now he had to face the consequence of something that happened against his will. Something, an annoying and dogged disease, that practically ruined his life without him being aware of it for years.
“And if it doesn’t work, then what else is left for me, doctor?” Kasper almost snapped, clenching his hand. “Because so far I’ve been doing this, it just gets worse. No matter how much I’ve tried, I still can’t do nor stand for shit.” He exhaled a breath he has held for a while now. “And the– The scars are still there. So visible. And my body just gets weaker and weaker every minute. I dunno if everyone’s away because of the infection or my scars or-“ His voice wavered. “Or because it’s me who’s back.”
And Kasper had no clue why, but he didn’t want to stop talking.
“Yet– I don’t know, man. But now I’m finally back, trying to be relevant again and somehow, no one wants me around. And I can’t help but wonder if Infected went through the same or-” Kasper sighed, giving up on his own speech. “Not even Lampert wants me around.”
The room fell silent.
After a pause, Kasper looked up at the doctor in front of him, finally meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry, you are no psychologist. Forget it.”
Dr. Retro clicked her tongue, smiling softly. “Well, I’m the closest to one we’ve got among… all of us, if it’s something.”
Silence settled over the room. The doctor stood up with the soft smile remaining on her face, heading to Kasper and pinching his cheek. Kasper could only stare at her, speechless and disconcerted.
“I know how complicated it can be, sugar. But let yourself out of this comfort zone of yours, alright?” She slowly pulled away and stood back, looking down at Kasper with a patient expression. “You live in an apartment, right? Maybe you could—“
“I mean.” The boy cut her off. “I’ve lived on my own for years now, yeah. But that’s my father’s money.” He shrugged, not bothering to clarify the technicalities of who had lived life the most for the past years. His point still stood.
“Maybe that’s something that needs to change, too.” And given Kasper’s frown, she continued with a gentle tone. “Try standing on your own. Get to do something healthy for both money and keep your mind stimulated externally. A new hobby works, too. Have you ever tried drawing? It has helped many people.”
“Ugh… don’t make me remember— Those are awful…” Kasper mumbled, mostly to himself other than to anyone else.
“See? You remembered something.”
“That’s not a good thing.”
She chuckled and left her notebook on the desk. “Listen, give it a try. I mean, a broken clock is right twice a day.”
“And even Homer sometimes nods.” Kasper deadpanned, raising his eyebrow in expectation of his negative message being understandable enough if his compendium of hopelessness… despite wincing at how painfully corny he sounded while making fun of someone doing the same.
“Maaaybe… What else can you lose?” Dr. Retro limited her own chuckle, trying not to get Kasper to feel worse or humiliated. “You can’t be withdrawn forever, sugar.”
“You say it as if I do it on purpose.”
“Well. I wouldn’t think about it too much if I were you.” Dr. Retro smiled gently, her eyes softening. “What I mean to say, is that you’ve been practically surviving, instead of living. You would need something that’s yours– Or make it yours if you think such a start is hard to get. Just a routine, or a work. A reason to feel yourself.”
She waved her hands slightly, as if urging him forward. Kasper sighed and stood up.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Kasper snorted and caught his reflection next to him, fixing his hair to be even messier and walked off the place, mumbling a goodbye to Dr. Retro with not much care of it reaching her ears. He could only hope this was the last time he would see her in other places that aren't that elevator.
Not that he hated her. In fact, he held fonder towards her. However, seeing her on his will just meant his process wasn’t improving as much to his liking.
Kasper just wanted not to depend on anybody. He, in fact, just longed to be his own person and not anything else.
Being Infected’s repressed part— Being Infected’s remains left to just rot was a thought that could do nothing more but mess with him and his temperament. Badly.
Nonetheless, if asked, most of the time Kasper would say he didn’t mind, just waving his hand in the air mumbling how whatever it actually was. But it wasn’t, and everyone knew.
Everyone did every time a sneeze interrupted his own speech. Everyone did when his movements had become slower and unsteady despite the persona he was before. Despite how much time and effort it has cost him to build, just for it to be torn down when the influence of a strange infection still remained in his own system.
A lingering disease’s influence that still refused to go.
Everyone did when Lampert’s conduct towards Kasper hadn't changed in the slightest, despite him knowing he was back. Right with him.
For the past weeks, Kasper had been on his own… almost. He still had one or two sessions with the doctor, but just checking in sessions does not count, at least that’s what he would mumble to himself countless of times while in the waiting room.
However, what was important was that he was fulfilling his purpose… in his own way. Or that’s what he liked to believe. Maybe drawing or continuing old, and old songs to get them to an end would at least fill him with temporal energy. Yet, this would fade after a short while.
And, if he had to listen to Dr. Retro’s advice further, no jobs were available for him. But he didn’t want to be in the public eye’s exhibition anymore just because he would still bleed pink sometimes– And his slurred speech in some of his words didn’t help the case at all. It was hard to challenge it when the few jobs at his disposal were practically empty and sad in such a small place. Why would he even pursue a spot where lights barely worked and its space was the equal of working in a literal box?
Kasper sighed, leaning back against the elevator handrail, looking up at the ceiling with a face of pure disappointment. Normally he would just keep trying, or just ask for external help. But that seemed embarrassing at this rate. And this was who Kasper now was, full of resemblance gaps with no sense of self, so depending on himself while not knowing where he was even standing could turn out to be quite the challenge most of the time.
And there was no one to blame when it came to his existential crisis. After all, there were no ill intentions when he was not even able to greet his friends, like Poob, for the last time. Or when he sat on that couch, unaware of its infections and the consequences beyond it. Or when he saw Lampert for a last time, thinking what he could have said as a better goodbye. As a better way, to make it clear that harm was the last of his intentions.
“See you later, dude.”
I hope you’ll see me, too, as I am now, Lampert.
I hope it’s not too late.
Kasper blinked and covered his eyes with his hand, still looking up at the elevator’s vault with a frown. His head hurt now. Terribly. And it had worsened when the doors opened after what felt like an eternity, the bright light of the floor practically blinding his eyes, and he winced, as if it was a kick right to his gut.
Guess he missed the feeling of warmth reflecting through his body and self. But this was different, because music came along with it. Because the space was quite wide, coming from somewhere instead of someone. Maybe, and just maybe, because the bright didn’t start as a consequence of him, but because its setting was already like that. And no matter what he did or said, its intensification wouldn’t change.
_________________
Kasper, with squinted eyes, got out of the floor. Usually, he wouldn't even bother to get out and take a few steps, but the doctor rambled about how external stimulation could be at least part of a solution. Maybe.
He almost chuckled at himself when seeing that almost all the place was made with cement, considering its width. It made him think of Wallter–One of the few people in the elevator he could mostly remember and treated him as a human being. He chose to ignore the pity look plastered on him every time he would show an old manifestation of the disease, even when clarified he was perfectly recovering. Kasper wondered if he was part of this, exploring the place as the doors behind him closed. Well, now he had to wait for the elevator to come back, he shrugged. Not that he minded much.
Music has always found its way to Kasper’s core and struggles, meaning it helps him relax when it's needed the most, so panic right now wasn’t necessary with such a nostalgic sound in the background. It wasn’t necessary when its brightness, which was enough to make him narrow his eyes, but also to help him guide himself.
…Almost. The place was pretty repetitive when its furniture and the way they were settled was monotonous and unvaried. The same chairs, beds, wooden planks, lamps… if he wasn’t able to remember the way he was going, the way back to the elevator could be found to be a difficult and tedious one.
As the thought of giving up and just go back increased, it was senseless when there was nothing much to glaze over, but he had no ticket with him. So, with a sigh and the doubt of this being useful present in mind, he followed each yellow line on the floor, a vessel of the path offered under his eyes.
After all, he has got used to being a simple vessel and nothing more.
Many people, similar to him in some way, stuck around. Kasper quickly figured out those weren’t just visitors due to their uniforms. Huh. Maybe this was his chance.
He took a deep breath, silently praying once or twice that Infected hadn't met them yet in order to avoid the decay of an impression he never even did himself, and went ahead.
“Hey, uh– I’m a bit… lost. Here. Is this new or something?” Kasper placed his hand over a worker’s shoulder, putting up a smile.
Yet, after a few seconds, the man turning around and giving him a cold and stony smile gingered Kasper up. He pulled his hand away and blinked, his smile fading. “Oh, ehm– My bad, bro. I’ll ask another person around, yeah?” And he awkwardly walked away.
Kasper liked its comforting vibe and music, and quite the variety of ideas set on his head yelled at him to build cool stuff, like a skatepark, or destroy everything on sight just because.
Or maybe because of the wave of anger over him from his core at random times.
Or maybe it was because this place being way too relaxing and silent threw him off.
No one was doing anything. Any of the people in there. Weren’t they supposed to be, well, working? Why were they just walking around? Why was there fresh food in a place where furniture was sold? Kasper shook this thought away to try to get another worker's attention. No success was found.
And Kasper couldn’t help but notice fresh liquid under his nose— meaning his nose was bleeding, and pink. Again. Maybe that’s why those guys were acting like that. Maybe they have noticed that instead of him. Kasper has found himself growing agitated at the thought and the evidence of the infection under his hands after a pathetic attempt of cleaning himself.
He shook his head. The feeling of being uneasy has never comforted Kasper in any way. Not when the feelings of nails pressing against your skin just caused more hurt than reassurance.
“Okay. Can’t get a shit of a job here. Guess I gotta go back.” Kasper mumbled with a scoff and continued his path, now the vibe feeling worse each step. “Don’t know why I keep listening to her or myself.” Even with these people surrounding him. Especially with them. His patience has worsened, and when your body’s still weak and it feels as if everyone’s playing a game around you that you don’t understand, this patience is on a thin line. He sniffed and cursed under his breath, feeling nausea over his disgust on himself.
He felt small and pathetic when he would trip thanks to a worker getting on his way. Not even a glance nor pity look was given to him now.
He was too familiar with these pity gestures over him that not having such anymore just made it much worse.
And Kasper’s hunger was doing no good to neither his patience nor weak body. As he kept following the almost faded out arrows in a path, food was snatched to his hands. Literally just whatever. Ice cream, bread, lemons. He just wanted to get to the elevator now.
If he did just as Dr. Retro said, and worked here, would he go around numb enough to forget his loss of self? Would he be happy if he could just go on his own with no awareness of his own decay?
Maybe I just need to get a uniform, Kasper thought. I’m tired of expecting more.
Not that he dared to even touch those workers again, though.
After a while of being stuck in a train of senseless thought, a peculiar building caught his eye.
Maybe he had been way too deep in thought. Maybe it went overlooked, but he could swear every furniture and zone got its repetitive patron every now and then, except for this one.
A gray, thick and with a great height column, just like the others, was present beyond his eyes. Yet— This one got a few wooden planks and pieces, almost perfectly put one on the verge of the other in order to build a path—Morelike staircase— which went up and up. He shrugged. As long as he didn’t get his hopes up, everything was just fine.
Everything was just fine when he wasn’t left alone in his room with all the things he had done. And the things he himself had not.
He went up, finding himself growing more curious with each step until he finally reached the end. It was… strangely familiar. Not that he minded much. He looked around— Seeming to be in what looked like a base. Why build a base instead of a house? Some lamps, a TV, a wooden shelf, no bed. A few paintings and a single, yellow couch in the verge of it despite its height. With no walls, too.
Kasper sighed, getting near the border carefully and sat down, swagging his leg every now and then. Maybe from this perspective, the elevator could be seen, and the blinding lights above him were much of a help for him.
He missed his light, though. These ones brought no warmth, nor were always near him. Now they seem so far apart, as if this was the closest to lukewarmness he could get.
And Kasper hated these pity peered looks when he stepped into the elevator. He hated how it seemed as if nothing nor someone was meant for him anymore, because he used to be more than that. Why was he the one to pay for the mistakes someone else made? He changed, and even if he himself wouldn’t be able to change, he did with these glances from external people he barely remembered.
But if there was something that Kasper could claim to abhor the most, was how indifferent Lampert was with this subject. Not a sorrowful look, nor sad–Well, he seemed to be, and it made apparent multiple times, but Kasper knew it didn’t belong to him. It wasn’t because of him. Not even pretending was part of his attitude ever since Kasper started recovering.
It didn’t mean he should be all over Lampert’s space because of this. Kasper fully laid down on the floor and put a hand over his head. Lampert– Everyone moved on. Kasper knew the world moved on, but he didn’t expect it to go without him. He didn’t expect Lampert to do so.
Although, why was he even searching for sorrowing eyes in Lampert’s?
He shook his head. He couldn’t bring himself to care.Whatever it was that should have mattered slipped away just as easily as everything else; he couldn’t bring himself to care. There were more pressing things to contend with, like the bits of uncomfortable gaps in his memory, or the dull throb behind his eyes that pulsed with every move of his. With a low groan, Kasper closed his eyes and leaned back, breathing through the ache.
When he opened them again, something soft and pale at the edge of his vision caught his attention. A plush seal sat nearby, oversized and fluffy, its stitched expression oddly calm.. He stared at it longer than he meant to, the tension in his shoulders easing. Almost without thinking, he reached for it. The fabric was cool and plush beneath his fingers, and he found himself caressing it slowly. The simple, familiar comfort grounded him in an unknown place like this.
A quiet huff of a laugh escaped him. He lifted his phone, taking a photo—then another—before settling back, the plushie tucked close.
Kasper lost track of time in his weak attempt to distract the ache, but after a while he stood up and started looking for tickets or anything useful in the base. Maybe a uniform. But when nothing was found, he just placed the food around, grabbed the plushie as a pillow—Why were there no pillows on the couch?— and sat up in front of the TV. He had no idea what to watch, or if it even worked in the slightest because the TV emitted no sound nor visual image to entertain– So he just laid his head down, slightly closing his eyes and glancing at the artificial landscape below him.
He could only think of how to steal a worker’s uniform another time and maybe, just maybe, make his doctor proud as he closed his eyes. However, it didn’t last much until he heard footsteps–The workers weren’t capable of getting up there, were they?
Alarmingly, he sat up and held the plushie close, glaring at the corner of the sound’s origin. “The fuck…?” And, as soon as the sound became clearer and the stepping of metal surfaced over it, awareness of what this was all about waved over him.
This was Lampert’s base. This wasn’t some random thing someone did just because— Lampert lives here. Or at least refugees. Who wouldn’t when these creepy guys were all over the place? Maybe Lampert’s quietness gave honor to that, he thought.
What if those guys were coming up here? Maybe to invade Lampert’s base… After all, it was uncharacteristically a bit of a mess around. Or worse— What if they were after him? Kasper quickly grabbed the TV remote and pointed it to the stairs with a glare, his hand slightly shaking.
Kasper blinked and leaned over the couch. “Lampert…?!”
“…What in the world are you doing here?”
“Oh, Lampert!” Kasper smiled and went to hug Lampert with no second doubt, mostly because of his fear being eased– despite being pulled away by the other. “Thank goodness it’s you!”
“Why do you even—?!” Lampert groaned and shamelessly cleaned with his hand wherever Kasper touched him, a frown being drawn on his face. “Go away.”
“No- Listen to me! There were a bunch of— Of these weird guys all over the place and I freaked out, dude… I didn’t know this was yours!”
“How could you not?! Why are you on this floor, even? How did you get on my base?!”
Kasper took a breath and let go of the remote, clicking his tongue before talking back. “I wanted a job.”
Lampert frowned once again. “…You?”
“…Okay. That sounded offensive and I don’t want to know why, so don’t worry cuz I won’t ask. Yeah, me.” Kasper was about to continue his speech when Lampert talked back.
“Listen to me. I don’t know exactly why or what you are here for despite this pathetic exercise of yours, but this isn’t ideal for you. And expect less when you are in my BASE!”
“Wow. You haven’t changed shit.” Kasper smiled, entertained.
Lampert flashed a glare at Kasper, frowning. “You- You don’t get to tell me what I have done or not.”
“Well, you–”
“But if we have to keep on going about our differences or similarities–which I bet you haven’t noticed a single thing about me–Your modulation is still understandable. And dirty. And slurred. Talk slower.”
“That was totally personal, but I won’t take it that way either, so we good.” Kasper shrugged and continued caressing the seal. “And before you start some beef or whatever, Dr. Retro told me to! Like, to work in order to train my mind with external stuff… what was that word again…? Uh…” Kasper scratched the side of his forehead, trying to remember. “Some weird bullshit, I dunno man…”
“And what makes you think this is the perfect place for your recovery?”
“And what makes you think I’d make a bad impression?”
“It’s not about THAT! Stop assuming whatever, dude.” Lampert snapped and groaned. “Firstly, leave that seal alone.”
“Buddy—“
“Secondly. You don’t even have a uniform…? And this isn’t— People don’t work here! Not the ones you know. You’ve been here, Infec— Kasper. You should know this by—“ Lampert took a breath, but stopped talking, giving up on it.
Kasper made pouty lips and looked down from the height, glaring at the workers with a frown. Okay. That point was given to Lampert.
However, his confusion in names did throw him off a bit, but there wasn’t much to expect when your ex best friend acted like you were a stranger.
“Well- Yeah. Maybe you are right, but! The elevator is full of weird people and random floors where in some, I dunno, everything's made of cardboard?” Kasper shrugged and glanced back at Lampert. “I mean, if I hadn’t seen a flying smiley rock multiple times, I would have believed me I was high as fuck,”
“If this work randomly pulls, I dunno, a giant beetle guy insulting me in another language and English for no reason, I could handle it.” Kasper smiled, as if that argument alone was convincing enough.
“…Wow. You can’t be serious. After all you’ve been through, that is the most shocking example you can pull up? You don’t even have a base. ROKEA’s not the—“
“Oooh… This is a ROKEA… yeah, I figured it out. And what is even the base for? I don’t, like, live here,”
Kasper decided to ignore Lampert’s groan and continued “Which wouldn’t be a bad idea… you wouldn’t have to waste tickets to come here…”
“…What makes you think I work here?”
Which response was Kasper’s silence, staring at him down and up and then shrugging. If Lampert’s bulb was capable of just exploding, it would have happened minutes ago. Kasper smiled up at him, as if apparenting innocent— it wasn't far from reality.
“C’mooon… How much do you even come up here? Don’t you have, like, places to clean and stuff?”
Lampert’s eye visibly twitched. “Yeesh. What are you even on? …You are not staying here. Also you are so dirty and getting it all over my place.”
“I mean, at least you have an excuse to clean it after months, sometimes I don’t even clean it even though I have an excuse.”
“…You need an excuse to clean your apartment? Even when recovering from an infection?” Lampert scoffed. “And I don’t clean it just after MONTHS! You don’t get to attribute your disgusting habits to me.”
“So… you count it in weeks like pregnant people or…?”
Lampert blinked, staring at Kasper as his tail swayed and hit the floor every now and then. “I won’t even ask what made you jump to that conclusion. And I mean that I clean it FREQUENTLY. And with you all over my place, I’ll probably have to move floors or something.”
“Dude. That’s like, the least of my worries. I don’t give a shit if I smell bad or not, so...” Kasper shrugged.
“It’s not that and you know it— And I told you to let go of that SEAL!”
“What? The plushie? But it’s so cute and silly.. I bet I’d give it more value and attention than you do,” Kasper faked a sniffle and held it closer. “I wouldn’t leave it abandoned in this cold place… along with these creepy employees…”
Kasper paid no attention to Lampert’s reaction when he started leaving a peck or two to the plushie, caressing the fluffiness of its belly as he whispered sweet nothings jokingly.
It was a bit funny teasing Lampert, that was given. But he couldn’t decide whether it was just for the fun of him doing it or because of his reactions. Usually, when joking around with the rest, pitiful or awkward laughs would be heard.
Lampert groaned and felt his light flickering once or twice. “Hey. Do you still have enough strength to move stuff around here?”
“Huh…? Still? Uh… I don’t think so, why? I mean, my body’s gotten weak as f—“ And he let out a shout that cut off his own speech when Lampert lifted him up, carrying him over his shoulder effortlessly, trying not to say a word about it as he adjusted Kasper in place.
Kasper yelped, trying his best not to fall as he squirmed. “Okay, okay! I’m not staying here!” He shouted as he still and awkwardly held the plushie with a hand, unaware of the hand placement. “I swear!”
Then, he heard a pop. Oh shit. He stopped squirming when he noticed the seal’s eye was about to fall off— Which was probably his fault. He gave a side eye to Lampert and threw it to the couch, praying to any God above he hadn't noticed.
Kasper didn’t know how to knit… but he would fix it. And take it with him— When Lampert drops him, that’s for sure.
However, his grip on Lampert tightened when he started walking, strong steps and metal reaching his ears. “Wait, wait—“ Kasper began squirming again. “I was— Let’s forget about it, dude! I- don’t throw me! Pretty please…?” He made puppy eyes, despite Lampert not being able to see it. Yet, his digging on Lampert’s metal eased when he noticed him going down the path from his base, his shifting on Lampert’s shoulder stopping as he sighed in relief.
“Oh, man… For a moment I thought—“ And he yelped when Lampert dropped him, letting out a groan and sitting up properly while rubbing his lower back. “Okay. That was so harsh for no reason.”
“I didn’t ask.” Lampert snapped, internally hoping this would be the last time he did so. “I told you to leave. But as always, you don’t listen to a single thing I say. You have no manners.”
“Lampert, dude…” Kasper whined, putting up a better act. “Dr. Retro told- Hey— Where are you— Lamps! I’m not worse than Infected, am I?”
But Lampert just stared down at him for a while, not with pity nor anger. Although indifference could be the right world, it seemed uncharacteristic coming from Lampert.
“Not much of a difference, if you ask me.” Lampert just walked off, going up to his base without looking back as his tail swayed like crazy.
Kasper scoffed and glanced down at the pink stains faded of blood in his fist. Okay. Another point given to Lampert.
“You can’t keep your base nor seal safe from me forever, you know! You don’t even have a door.” Kasper yelled, cupping his hands at his mouth to amplify the noise, hearing an incomprehensible scream from the top of the build. Then, he sighed and lowered his hands, sitting on the ground to lay his head back with a groan.
Kasper covered his face with his hands, now throwing himself to the cold floor. “Why did I even ask that…?” He looked to a side, staring at the multiple lights around him. He shook away the thought– The fear of being worse in the past without him and stood up, looking up at the base for a last time before walking the other way, following the arrow lines once again.
“...It feels as if they fade out every time I look at them. Maybe they would need a worker for this.” Kasper scoffed and smiled at his thought, his hands in his pocket. “Instead of just walking around in circles doing nothing…”
He tried finding his way back to the elevator– He really did, doing his best to follow the trace of multiple lines he couldn’t even remember. He wouldn’t be surprised if the sole argument with Lampert alone made him forget where the elevator was, since his mind was practically blurry now. The music was almost faint now as he tried to order the ideas in his head. He didn’t want his life to be or sound depressing, but the idea of going back to his apartment on his own didn’t help the situation– It wasn’t exactly the point of being alone that ruined such a perspective, he could get used to that pretty easily.
Yet, it threw him off the thought of Lampert being so close to him, and yet not knowing how to get under his skin or even get those eyes to glance at him with another feeling that didn’t conclude in indifference.
Well– For tonight, a bit of frustration was settled. But he didn’t even know how to stand for himself now, which led to getting under Lampert’s nerves without even being aware where he was set in the first place. Maybe Lampert was just going insane and convincing himself Kasper wasn’t really back, just because such a thought seemed more reassuring that his own talk with the doctor about his arrival was not enough of a motivation for Lampert to look back at him.
Or to set everything as it used to be before.
He wasn’t aware of where he was set in any place, actually. Nothing anywhere really belongs to him anyways.
The mindless pacing around the place while being lost in his own mind just made it harder for him to focus. Even when the lights turned off. Especially when the lights turned off.
Next thing he knew, every faded memory of the route back to the elevator just seemed hopeless. Everything was practically dark now if it weren’t for the few lamps around the place, which work wasn’t enough to serve guidance.
And, for the first time since he got down to the floor, he heard external voices that weren’t coming from Lampert this time– Yet, even when the last thing he wanted was to hear those creepy guys right on the back of his neck. Even when he froze, not even bothering to check once before running off.