Twenty-One-
Star Ocean: Till The End Of Time, Fayt and Albel
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Albel didn't say anything. He'd barely said a word since they let him out of the infirmary, stalking the rounded metal halls of the Diplo as if they were nothing out of the ordinary. Now he glanced about the little bedchamber, baring his teeth in vague disgust, his red eyes narrowed against the glare of the overhead lights. Fayt, who'd volunteered to explain to Albel how things worked shipside out of a momentary (and, in hindsight, stupid) impulse to try and maybe make friends, was really, really starting to regret it. Still, he forged on.

"You can turn the lights on and off here," Fayt said, tapping the two little white buttons next to the blue panel, "or over there next to the bed." He turned around and pointed to the identical white buttons on the bed's headboard. Albel flowed around in a silent half-circle, eyeing the bed with that same expression of amused disdain.

"Just one more thing," Fayt said, crossing to the other recessed door in the wall and tapping the blue panel next to it. The door silently slid open (Albel remained unimpressed) to reveal the facilities. "That's the bathroom," Fayt said, silently very grateful that he wasn't going to have to explain indoor plumbing. At least Elicoor had gotten that far along by itself. Well, parts of it. Airyglyph, anyway. "The water in the shower may feel a little weird because it's sonically aerated to save on shipweight, okay? But it'll still get you just as clean."

"Good," Albel said, nearly the first word he'd said all day, and pushed past Fayt. "You can go now," he said over his shoulder, investigating the little shower stall with real interest.

"Okay, well, you're welcome," Fayt said, rattled. "There's an intercom console on the headboard--"

One of Albel's hands flicked up, stabbing blindly out behind him. (Fortunately, not the one with the massive claw.) The bathroom door slid shut in Fayt's face. "--so you can call me if you need anything," Fayt said helplessly, addressing the rest of his sentence to the closed and unresponsive door. "Uh. Good luck."

After a moment, Fayt collected himself enough to go put Albel's leather rucksack down on the bed. He looked around, trying to decide if there was anything else he needed to explain to Albel. Coming to the conclusion that Albel wasn't likely to listen in any case, Fayt turned to go, and made it into the hallway outside before he realized that he hadn't told Albel how to actually work the shower. He turned around and raced back in.

"Hey," he said, unthinkingly slapping the blue panel to open the bathroom door again, "I forgot to--"

Albel whipped around so quickly that his warbraids slapped the wall behind him. He was naked to the waist, coils and loops of discarded bandage caught in his fingers, the once-white fabric stained a disturbing wet pinkish-yellow--but it was his arm that caught Fayt's attention and made him helpless to do anything but stare. It was still an arm, but just barely. From the shoulder down it was a pitted oozing maroon mass of burns, mottled with the brownish-black crust of dried blood, and it stank--

--belatedly Fayt became aware of the growling, and he jerked his head up.

"Like what you see?" Albel whispered, holding up his left hand and flexing the fingers in a grotesque parody of a come-hither gesture. The scabbed-over skin on the backs of his knuckles broke and bled again, and Fayt winced back, holding up his own hand to ward Albel off. "Do you like it?" Albel said again, even more softly.

"It..." Fayt faltered. "It's... it's not that bad, really..."

With a low and throttled roar Albel struck like a snake, spooky-fast, jamming the thumb of his suppurating left hand into Fayt's still-open mouth and cutting his apology off at the source. Two stiffened fingers jabbed like claws at Fayt's eyes, stopping just millimeters away, tremblingly erect and so close that Fayt found himself going cross-eyed trying to focus on the threat. Panicking, he tried to close his mouth to swallow the lump of fear in his throat, and his lips closed around Albel's thumb. His mouth and nose filled with the taste and smell of roasted, rotting meat. His eyes watered helplessly.

"Shut your lying maggot mouth," Albel hissed, and slammed his palm against Fayt's face, shoving him backwards out of the bathroom even as he slapped his other hand against the wall. The door hissed shut, and a moment later, lit up, proclaiming itself locked.