momslilassassin | On the way to Chilly Boulder [lunchtime]

"I'm not really going to forget to eat," Ender pointed out. He probably had done so a couple of times by now. "Ice cream isn't very nutritional."

"Of course you'd forget to eat," Ben replied, much as he had the last few times. "I kept forgetting to. And ice cream is much better than rations, which is the only thing I have in my room."

The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he turned his head to find out why. "Do you hear that?"

If the zombies had any intelligent thought, they would wonder why people kept going out when they knew there was danger. Obviously, it wasn't doing anything but splattering their pretty pretty innards all over the island.

As it was, all these zombies were concerned about was the fresh flesh in front of them. A twofer, even. How lucky they were.

The zombies shambled towards the boys, shedding skin and flakes of flesh as they moved. One's eyeball popped from its socket, hanging on by a precarious thread.

Ender's head turned on Ben's question. He spotted the zombies immediately. Shambling, slow, it wouldn't have to escalate to a conflict. "Skywalker. We need to retreat," he said. Out of anyone else, that would've sounded panicked. Ender managed to hide his own spike of it pretty well.

He knew the stories about zombies.

"But I want ice cream," Ben said stubbornly, his hand already reaching for his lightsaber. "It's not that far to go."

Ben was ocassionally an idiot.

The zombies let out a guttural, ominous noise as they advanced towards the two boys. One stretched an arm and then barely blinked when said arm fell off and was stepped on.

He'd have to get another one of those. Asa it was, they just continued one, three arms, outstretched towards the boys.

Ender liked to avoid conflict if he could manage it. Ben was going to be a better shot to deal with them, even if Ender had brought a stick of his own, aware of how dangerous it might become. He retreated a little. "I'm sure we can find ice cream in the dorms," he said. Don't make me fight you.

"I'm sure the ice cream here is better," Ben countered, stepping a little in front of Ender, eyes rapidly assessing the situation as he ignited his lightsaber with a very familiar snap-hiss. "There's only two of them."

For now. Details.

Aww, if the zombies could think such thoughts, they would be positively moved by how protective Ben was of Ender. It was almost romantic.

These zombies didn't do romantic. These zombies did BRAAAAAAAAINS. And they were resilient sons of bitches, too.

Ben's glowy stick didn't phase them and they continued their slow lumber towards the boys, mouths opening and blood seeping from their blackened mouths and lips.

They continued to be very slow. It would've been more useful to bring a gun, to take them out from far away so neither of them would get near the teeth. Ender's eyes flicked to Ben, his stance, and the unnecessary arrogance: the boy was spoiling for a fight. He might've been for a while now.

They were rapidly losing the window for retreat. "Ben," he said, "Come on."

"I'm not running away," Ben snapped back, flinging his lightsaber towards the nearest zombie and using the Force to aim the blade directly for the thing's neck.

He didn't check to see if the zombie used to be someone he knew. He'd shut down that part of himself.

The zombie wasn't fast enough to juke and twist away so the lightsaber slice through his neck, severing it cleanly. So cleanly, in fact, that his head stay balanced on his neck.

Blackened blood poured from the wound, covering the ground and the zombie's tattered clothes. The other zombie, having not been hit, stepped closer, arms reaching out to grab the nearest boy.

Dammit, Ben. Sometimes, you can be really stupid.

The zombie was reaching for him. There was a flare of fear - not at the zombie, but at himself, coiling nasty and angrily in his belly - and then Ender's mind abruptly changed tracks. He brought his stick up with ruthless efficiency: it was the brains, the weak spot, they'd keep on moving if you didn't take out the brains.

He thrust the stick forward into the zombie's skull with as much strength as he could muster. Ender never gave a single thought to making it look pretty. He wanted this fight over, and now.

Ben was keeping track of what Ender was up to even as he grabbed his lightsaber back and tried to push the blade through his decapitated zombie's eye.

Ben was a scary little bastard in a fight.

Well, sticks and stones could break their bones and....could apparently kill two zombies who just wanted a meal!

The zombie with the new addition of a stick in his head crumpled to the ground, twitching a few times and then going still. The zombie who didn't need an optometrist, thank you, jerked and twisted, flailing wildly before he also went limp.

Ender had let the stick slip out of his hands. He took a step backwards. It hadn't been a normal breathing human being, but his face had still seemed human, and that brought with it flashes of something else.

There was zombie goo on his fingers. He took another step, and tried to force down a gaggle of self-loathing emotions just stirring to the surface.

Ben shut down the lightsaber, still on the alert for any other zombies, and glanced over at Ender.

"You okay?" he asked. He could tell the answer should be "no."

This was the problem with being friends with an empath: he had to work overtime to quiet things, because even the slightest hints could be picked up.

"I didn't want a fight," he said.

"I don't think they were the negotiating type," Ben replied.

Ender reached up to smear some zombie gook off his hand. "Not when they were up close," he said. It was an observation. He was doing his level best not to let any of it flare up into anything, let alone anger at Ben.

"I wanted ice cream," Ben said stubbornly, "and they were in the way."

In that moment, it could've been very easy to move in and end Ben with a single argument.

It was a silly fight they were having, though. Ender would rather avoid the conflict. "You have weird cravings."

His heart was still pounding in his chest.

"No ice cream on Endor," Ben replied shortly, starting towards the shop again, but not willing to let Ender get more than a few steps behind him.

Not that he was feeling a little guilty. Really.

"Just Ewoks?"

Thud, thud, thud. It wasn't like Bonzo, it wasn't like Stilson, they were mindless creatures, except they'd thought the Formics had been, too.

They were fairytale monsters. Don't pay attention.

"And big trees," Ben said, falling into step with him. "And the new place just had the trees and the galaxy's most persistent mosquitoes."

And people wearing his girlfriend's face trying to blow them all to hell. Details.

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