Venom's Story: Fire At Will

"Don't."

Ross-Venom-Zhalott ignored him. As always. As usual. As he knew he would. He merely hefted his bag of equipment, the rifle over his shoulder, and his laptop case, and started for the door.

Atnynvus followed him, tails coiling around wildly and knocking a lamp over. He knew he'd do that, and he didn't care. The lamp would be fine; most of the things in this house were unbreakable, now.

Of course, he knew he wouldn't care, which made him care about not caring, which made him mad all over again.

But he also knew he wouldn't do anything about being mad right now. He'd known this scene would happen from the moment he hatched and the horrible knowledge of everything that ever was, had been, and would be came flooding into his trio of unhappy brains. He knew how it would play out. He knew what Ross-Venom-Zhalott would do. He knew, he hated that he knew, he tried to circumvent what he knew, to prevent it, but of course he couldn't. His tongues were tied, his hands were tied, his life was tied, and he'd known he was doomed to failure.

"Don't," he repeated, a low growl, angry-- as always.

He was called Atnynvus, after all.

"If you want to eat," Ross-Venom-Zhalott said shortly, "I have to. So stop throwing a fit about it."

This wasn't a fit. This wasn't a tantrum, either. It was, for Atnynvus, calm and conversational. They both knew that.

"I'll destroy half the house," Atnynvus threatened. It wasn't really a threat: it was a fact. An exaggerated fact, because Atnynvus could only destroy things in the house, due to the protective spells on the building itself that he knew he could not break, but that counted as "half".

And since Ross-Venom-Zhalott knew it, he was free to say it.

"Like you did last week?" the anthropomorphic dragon snorted. "There's hardly anything in here left to break. Stop with the threats. I know you, and I know there's nothing I can do except lock you up here until I get back."

Atnynvus bristled, growling furiously. Ross-Venom-Zhalott did not know him. He knew nothing about him. Nothing! The gall of him, saying he knew... anything...! Atnynvus knew. Atnynvus knew far too much. Atnynvus knew Ross-Venom-Zhalott was going make that comment, and knew he was going to be angry about it, because he knew it infuriated him to hear anyone profess to knowledge when he was cursed with so much knowledge it made anything any one person knew petty, insignificant, nothing. He knew it would hurt, the envy he felt for their petty, insignificant, nothing knowledge, and he knew that the weakness of pain would make him angry all over again.

And he knew that knowing that would make him even angrier. There was nothing here to destroy, though, nothing except Ross-Venom-Zhalott, and he knew he wasn't going to do that.

"Don't--" he ground out from his central head.

"--go," his left head finished, glaring balefully at the floor. It was the closest he could come to saying what he wished he could say, telling Ross-Venom-Zhalott what would happen when he went, preventing the future he knew would occur but hated and, so, didn't want to occur. Even if it had been a good future-- which it wasn't, though he supposed it worked out in some fashion in the end-- he would have tried to change it, just to try.

But he knew he would do that, too, and knew he would fail.

Ross-Venom-Zhalott was staring at him like he'd grown a fourth head. "Why not?" he asked blankly. "Don't tell me you'll miss me."

"All right, I won't," he snorted.

"You hate me. Of course you're not going to miss me. Why don't you want me to go, then?"

Showing his lack of knowledge again, even on things he ought to be able to pick up by now. Atnynvus didn't hate his bond any more than he hated anything else-- perhaps, in fact, a little less, if only because they had a little in common: both were trapped by him and his terrible curse-- but missing him still had nothing to do with why he told him not to go. There was no point to missing anything when he knew exactly when it would return. He ground his teeth together in frustrated silence, unable to answer.

"Well, it's still the truth, whatever your reason," Ross-Venom-Zhalott finally filled the silence. "If you want to eat, I have to work. Which means I go out, and you stay here. If you ruin another job, there'll be no saving my reputation, and then we'll both starve."

Atnynvus snorted disdainfully. Neither one of them would starve-- it didn't take omniscience to know that. Ross-Venom-Zhalott would find some less prestigious job, Atnynvus would kill things, and they would survive.

No matter how much he might wish he wouldn't survive. But his knowledge of his death and eventual freedom was too far away to be any comfort. He still had a long life to live, and too many things to know and be furious at before the end.

Like Ross-Venom-Zhalott leaving, to go on this trip, this job, and locking the door securely behind him. He knew that, too, before it happened. As it happened. And was furious at it. He knew he'd get out eventually, show up right when he was supposed to, do what he knew he'd do; he knew it all.

And he was furious at that, too.