The Dark Horse [Closed]

[Misato Hazukashi]

Going incognito was hard for Moe. He was still off campus avoiding people because of a "sick bug", and was insistantly doing his homework from the apartment. He knew he'd have to make up for this over the winter holidays but right now he didn't care. He didn't want to be near the school, he didn't want to be seen. So he did what no one expected of him. While Vincent was at his internship, he'd tied his hair back, popped on a hoodie and a pair of *shudder* baggy pants. He didn't look like himself. But that was the idea.

He didn't even wear makeup. He was as masculine as he'd ever been, and he slouched like Vincent did when he strutted around. He'd then headed back to Hammel and been the sweetest little thing to the receptionist. That mask soon faded as he walked through the school. Hands crammed into his pockets, he'd taken a quick left and gone up a few flights of stairs to the dorm room Fifi said Zac stayed in. He felt so goddamn naked without his normal outfit, without his hair all primed and perfect - but Zac had forced his hand and he needed to show him that it was time to pay.

"Just goin' in to visit Zac." He growled in a low, faux-masculine voice to cover his own, normally quite sweet tone. The roommates didn't seem to care as he moved in to the dorm room and shut the door behind him. Then the hood came down and Moe stood there, putting his hands by his sides.

"Zachary." He said coldly, his eyes narrowed.

[Zachary LaRousse]

It’s already been a few weeks and oddly enough, Zac’s getting used to the whole Azkaban experience he’s having. Powerless, penniless and grounded. The last thing he needs is one of those ugly orange shirt and pants and he’s good to go. Oh how his detractors would love seeing him dress like an inmate they all wish he’d be.

As if he’d ever be stuck in a cell.

If anything, he’s fairly sure his father and his relatives would do something about it. If it can’t be arranged legally, well, he’s quite certain that his uncle will have no qualms doing some under the table negotiations. (His father seems to be a bit apprehensive when dealing with stuff like that). He’d suffer some scolding, but he knows how much his uncle treasures the whole LaRousse image and meta-human intervention (from mind-control to total mindwipes). His uncle’s done it for his two wayward sons, he’s confident it’ll spill over him too.

He had just gone out of the bathroom and was in the process of looking for clothes when he heard a knock on his door. His hair still dripping and he only had a towel wrapped around his waist, right hand clutching on the side to keep it from falling, so when his door suddenly opened and a hooded figure came in, he was rather surprised. He briefly caught a glimpse of a surprised Jace and Leo from the door, so he’s fairly sure the stranger’s neither.

“Who are-Moe?!” Woah. Talk about creepy.

[Misato Hazukashi]

Moe felt fighting Zac in a towel was oddly inappropriate, so he paused in the beginnings of his tirade and simply frowned. "Get dressed please." He said simply, running his hands through his hair. He didn't look great. He'd pretty much holed himself up in the apartment for the entirety of the past week, and the only sun he'd had was when he was outside playing with Sulphur in the garden. Because he'd been working double hard to make up for his absence in actual lessons, he had sore eyes from being stuck in front of the laptop.

"Yes. It's me." Moe said again, his voice oddly dull. "I thought since you'd been referring to me as a bitch I'd start acting like one." He grit his teeth a little, then edged closer. He didn't bother asking about the letter, since Zac was obviously unaffected by it's words. He felt sore. Tired of the feeling of betrayal that bubbled in his chest. He needed to get it out. But yet, he kept his voice flat, not loud as he spoke again.

"There's no point in asking for an apology." He said, rolling his sleeves up and edging closer. "I realised that a while ago. You aren't sorry. You wont ever feel sorry." His eyes stung a moment. "So tell me." He paused, swallowing. "Did you enjoy betraying a friend? Did you and Mia have a big old laugh about it in detention?" He tilted his chin up to look Zac in the eye. "I don't even care if I get expelled for this, but I am going to make you pay for this. I am going to be the living nightmare you can't wake up from." His voice was still cool and level. "I'm sick of being trodden on, this stops now."

He hesitated for a moment, folding his fists like how Ann had shown him, then squarely punched Zac in the jaw. "That's for Evan." He snarled, his sweet voice frozen. "This one is for Levi." A kick to the stomach. "And this...? This is for me." He shoved the bigger boy across the room and kneed him in the groin.

"I have never hated anyone as much as I hate you and Mia right now."

[Zachary LaRousse]

Unfortunately for Moe, Zac didn’t really have the chance to read the letter Moe sent him as thoroughly as the little pixie boy might’ve wanted him to read. For one, his letter’s not the only one Zac got that day; seems to be the hype nowadays to send him a threatening letter but not follow up anyway. Ever since the event, he’s been receiving an average of three to four letters a day, promising revenge and retribution. Did it ever happen though? Nope. (Or at least not until today).

And the second most pressing reason would’ve been that he was with Mia when he was reading such ‘death threats’. He was actually having fun reading through all them in detention, but then Mia had to be such a killjoy, ripping it from his hands and shredding it into tiny, unidentifiable pieces. He says she’s jealous because she’s not getting much letters like him.

He let out a small chuckle when Moe told him to get dressed, shaking his head and turning around towards his dresser. He idly let his towel down – Moe’s already seen much more than that anyway – and grabbed a pair of simple black boxers before walking back to Moe. “What happened to you? You look…like a boy.” Which is oddly creepy. Now he knows why the Japanese boy decided to wear girl clothes; he looks awful in men’s clothes.

Or maybe that’s just because he’s used to seeing fluttering flamboyant Moe.

When he heard that Moe didn’t confront him for an apology, he felt oddly relieved. He’s tired of telling people he’s totally not repentant. Why can’t they settle for that written apology he did and a heaping 2 grand or more as compensation? “Betrayal’s too harsh of a term. I prefer collateral damage.” Mostly because he himself had no idea what Mia would show in the projector. Not that he feels angry about what the technopath did anyway. “How I wish we could’ve gotten a good laugh out of it. I laughed, but Mia’s in a catatonic state right now. I think she’ll be the first generation zombie.”

Yes, Zac’s taking none of this seriously. How could he, when Moe looks like that?

He did try to rein his laughter in throughout Moe’s speech. And when the first blow connected to his jaw, well, it was rather unsatisfactory.

He felt pain, yes, but not enough to reduce him to a squirming guy just yet. It was spot on, like he’s been receiving training, but it’s still not that painful that the mimic can’t endure it. So, instead of stopping the kick to his stomach, he simply let it be. He even exaggerated his pain for a bit. What did hurt though is, as expected, the kick to his groin.

Within seconds of his knee connecting to Zac’s groin, the mimic crumpled to the floor, clutching his prized jewels as he curled into a ball, face contorting in pain. He couldn’t even scream – the pain effectively turning him mute. Oh how he wishes he has his animal healing right now.

“Bitch,” he muttered, locking eyes with Moe as he’s the first one to effectively earn his anger throughout the whole debacle.

He’d definitely get even with Moe. Just he waits.

[Misato Hazukashi]

The fact Zac was just standing there looking smug about the hurt he'd caused everyone just made Moe see red. At first he thought he was going to be controlled. He thought he'd throw his hits and get on with life, but to see such an remorselessness Zac gloat at him drove him to a fury. "Why do you care what happened to me?" He snarled, his small fists clenching up again.

"It was collateral damage." Moe repeated as Zac keeled over and clutched his groin. "You see, Zaczac, no one expects this of me." He dropped to his knees to look the boy in the eye. "And if I'm dressed like a man, no one thinks it is me." He grabbed Zac's hair and jerked his head back to look him in the eye, expression cold, triumphant. "You're just pathetic, Zac." He said, throwing his hand back to clobber our poor teen sexgod in the nose.

"And yes, I am a bitch. You've made me this bitch." He hissed, before using his full strength to lift the boy up by the hair. "And you know what's funny? You think that you can protect yourself from this, you think that you can keep yourself safe but in the end not even your precious dad can protect you from what's going to happen to you." He cooed, looking almost as sweet as he normally did, staring with those pretty doe eyes into Zac's own. He was right though. No one expected anything from Misato. Nothing like this anyway.

"So when Dani, Vincent and Ann come knocking, you have to sit through this again. And again." His eyes lit up with malice, and he put his hand roughly to the back of Zac's head, preparing to smash his head against the nearest thing - the windowsill. "And money wont save you." He released his hand and stepped back, scrunching his face up and staring down at his hands.

He felt disgusted in himself in that moment, and the sting of tears threatened to burn up and roll down his cheeks. "I hate you." Moe said softly, before realising the boy was bleeding. He tensed, then began to dab with a tissue in his pocket at the blood. He was about to say sorry, when he realised that Zac would. Zac didn't care. Zac was just going to carry on doing this because his daddy was going to keep things okay for him.

"I'm glad your mum's dead." Ouch. Low blow. "Because she'd hate who her son was right now."

[Zachary LaRousse]

Once Zac was hit in the crotch, everything fell apart. His resolve, his arrogance, his smug grin. One of the few chinks in his armor, after all.

As such, he was easily dragged around by the butterfly princess, posing no resistance as his hair was yanked up and Moe looked at him in the eye. Like a true soap opera drama though, Zac, unable to talk through the pain coursing in his body, spat on Moe’s face. It wasn’t much, but to Zac, it meant that this isn’t over. No matter how pathetic he might look (he’s in no state to deny it), Moe won’t win. Not if he can help it.

Hearing Moe talk like that somehow shook Zac. Maybe because of fear, or just plain creepiness. Seems his transformation into a boyish boy ran far deeper than just a mere wardrobe change. Gone is that sweet boy whom everyone can’t help but love; say hello to little mister furious kid.

The only question is, has that side of Moe always been present? Zac has to give him props for pulling such an effective mask then.

He didn’t really care if he was bleeding right now (he swatted Moe’s hand away); he want Moe out. And since his roommates are far too dense to know that something is up (can’t they hear the thud on the floor?), it doesn’t seem like it’ll happen anytime soon.

“I’m not scared you slut.” Yes, he’ll be resorting to name calling now. The ‘Moe’ mask is gone after all. “I don’t…hate you.” He managed to sit up and put a grin on, the pain slowly receding, “I don’t feel anything for you.”

And then he went out and dare brought his mom on the table. Had he not beaten him up, maybe this would’ve been the part where Zac begins to see sense and starts feeling remorse. But beating someone up will never make them realize their wrongs. Especially not someone like Zac.

“You should go. Now.” He slowly stood up and pointed to his door. “Before I rip your dainty little throat off. Even without my powers I still can do it. Then maybe I’d finally go to jail like you and your beloved Dr. Neville would oh-so-prefer.”

He made a mental note to call his dad in a bit. Maybe his uncle too, since he’s a whole lot sneakier than his dad. Heaven knows they won’t like how the administration handles things like these.

[Misato Hazukashi]

Moe hissed as he was spat on and rubbed his cheek, unable to keep speaking in english. "あなたは私をうんざりさせます." He growled (and no, I won't be translating it, most of it is pretty nasty anyway.) Scrubbing his cheek again, he managed to speak in English once more. "Spitting? I've had enough of your body fluids to last me a lifetime." He sneered.

But he did back off. "あなたは、決して生まれないことを願うでしょう。ファックユー!" Moe continued, ranting away in his native language before shaking his head. "You're making me a person I never wanted to be." He felt a tear roll down his face, and he pulled his hood back over him, disgusting his appearance further.

"I'd rather die than live knowing someone I cared about betrayed me." He said softly, sadly. The fight deflated from his body. He grabbed the door handle and wrenched it open, before running. And that was all he did. He just ran and ran and ran till his lungs felt like they were going to burst open. He didn't even care. Moe officially hated himself more than he could have hated Zac.

What had he just done?

He flopped to the ground in the local park, and began beating the crap out of the ground like a petulant child, till his hands were bruised and there was nothing left in him to yell about.

He'd never forgive himself for this. He'd never forgive Zac for letting him become like this.

"I want to go home." He breathed into the dirt, then just lay still, ignoring the fact that he was face down, crying in the middle of a public place.