Snake vs Bunny {Tomer}

[Erik Stewart]

Tomer and the rest of his roommates were likely to notice that their dorm had been embroiled in a school emergency. Whether they were around or not that day, and whether or not they heard the sounds of conflict, the yelling, the glass shattering, word would get around to them regardless. Probably few of them were surprised to learn that Erik had envenomed a fellow student. He had always seemed capable of it. Still, it was different to think of it in theory and see it unfold in reality; there was something real and unsettling about watching someone taken away in a stretcher, down to the flashing ambulance waiting in the courtyard. The flickering blue-and-red could be seen through the windows of their dorm.

Tomer nor anyone else would hear any explanation from Erik. He’d his own healing to do. For a week at least he stayed hidden in his room, leaving it only to cater to his necessities; when he finally reared his head, the swelling had gone down, he bore only slight discolorations about his face, and the remnants of his split lip were starting to disappear.

He wore DJ around his neck as usual. It wasn’t his intention to antagonize Tomer – at least, not then – and he seemed like he was simply heading for the den. What made him stop was Tomer’s cracked-open door. He looked through it in passing curiosity, maybe to check if he still had roommates; he expected the school would want to isolate him.

But it seemed like Tomer was still there; once the younger boy noticed him, Erik narrowed his eyes, ready to ask him what he was looking at, when something small and fluffy caught his attention. Erik honed in on the animal in an almost Disney villain-esque fashion, eyes widened and pupils narrowed, head perked and partially extended forward, as if he could catch its scent. “What’s that?”

[Tomer Berelowitz]

Tomer had indeed noticed all of the emergency personnel. It was kind of hard not to. He'd supposed with a roommate like Erik it would be a matter of time, but he still felt bad once he heard what had happened, or, the rumors. As far as he could tell, there had been a fight of some sort and Erik had bitten someone. That second part had also been inevitable in Tomer's mind, but according to much more reliable sources, this was the first time. Which was the most surprising part, for him.

Even more surprising was that for the next week no one saw much of the snake-shifter. It was... almost like a vacation. Tomer was a little suspicious of it, too much to enjoy it. As strange and illogical as it sounded, he was also a little worried about Erik too. If he'd never bitten anyone before, it meant something serious had happened to make him do it. And as an offshoot of that, if he was still in a bad mood it would probably make him much more volatile to others. Though Erik would likely never show that much consideration for him, Tomer tread lightly so as not to disturb him.

The dorms were kept at good temperatures indoors, but Tomer didn't dare open his window for any draft, and keeping his door shut all the time made the room a bit stuffy. He didn't want Clover getting stale air, so he'd cautiously cracked the door a bit, careful to use a doorstop to keep that slice from becoming big enough for escape. Clover was curious about what was outside, but was more interested in the new box his owner had given him. It was full of big holes he could hop through, and it was fun to nose around.

Whenever his pet was uncaged and the door was open (which was about every other day in the winter), Tomer sat on his wheeled desk chair, his crutches in easy reach, in case of an emergency. Clover was a very well-behaved bunny, but he liked to explore. And. Erik.

Sensing motion outside his door, he looked up just in time to blink into a pair of familiar angry blue eyes. That suddenly switched from him to Clover. Oh god.

Pushing himself over in his chair to his bunny, Tomer leaned over and quickly but gently scooped up his bunny and deposited him in his cage. The metal mesh of the cage was too small for Dead John to slide through... probably. Clover looked a bit perplexed, but Tomer gave him a few carrots from the bag on his bed and he munched away, not caring.

Back to Erik. "It's a rabbit," he said. "He's my pet. His name is Clover."

And for some reason, automatic politeness made him add, "...Did you need something?"

[Erik Stewart]

Small mammals were nothing to Erik; he still remembered hanging out in the backyard and shooting squirrels (and yes, the occasional rabbit), and finding amusement in the way the impact blew them into the air; his first snake-bite victim was his own cat Lissy, who was presumed a runaway. The only kind of animal he seemed to feel any sort of affection for were, predictably, reptiles: there was grace and poise in the water snake that glided over the surface, and danger in the alligators that lurked below.

“What’d ya get a rabbit fer?” And when? He was pretty sure Tomer didn’t have one before…he would have noticed. So, too, would DJ, though the rat snake’s interest in it would have been limited. His speed were more frogs, mice and the occasional fish…though Erik’s breed was another matter.

Had he ever swallowed something as a big as a rabbit while a serpent before? No. Would he consider it, just to spite his roommate? Absolutely not. He did, however, like to keep the kid on his toes.

“They ain’t fer pets. They’re for shootin’ and skinnin’ an’ sometimes ya run over ‘em on the road,” he said, then looked down at the fluffy animal wiggling its nose at him. “Look at that lil’ shit. I could blow that thing five yards with a big enough gun. There won’t be nothin’ left but some fur an’ those stupid lookin’ teeth.”

[Tomer Berelowitz]

"It wasn't exactly my idea," he said, still civil. "My uncle got it for my for my birthday."

A bunny was pretty much the last thing Tomer had expected from Uncle Josh, and he was still amazed that one, his mother had agreed to it, and two, that he'd taken to Clover so fast. He'd expected to be too nervous and anxious to be a good pet owner, but his bunny was so affectionate and well-behaved that it was a highlight of his day.

Erik was at least staying out in the common room. He hadn't been invited in, but wasn't barging in anyway. Which was great, because Clover and Dead John in such close proximity made his stomach fluttery.

If Tomer had wanted to be rude, he would've said the same could be said about snakes. They were shot, skinned, and sometimes run over too, but... no, it wasn't nice. Even if it was factual. And, well... if someone shot Dead John, he'd probably leave a pair of odd looking teeth behind too. Again, he wasn't going there. Instead he said, "Don't call him that. His name is Clover. He's a good bunny."

Then his brow furrowed, and he asked a question he'd been wondering about for awhile. "Why is your snake named Dead John when he's alive?"

[Erik Stewart]

Erik didn’t know much about Tomer and his uncle. Luckily for his roommate, Erik never really showed his face when he had visitors over, particularly those of the adult kind…and he especially didn’t know the relationship between he, his uncle, and Dr. Sean Neville. If he had, well, he’d think twice about coming to his counseling sessions every week – three times every week, now, after that snakebite incident.

He snorted and folded his arms. Clover. “That’s a girl name,” he said, pressing one shoulder to the doorframe. DJ slithered about his neck like a black, living scarf. He could taste the rabbit in the air, but he said nothing. Erik could tell the rat snake was as apathetic towards Tomer’s pet as he was about most things.

He would’ve gone on, but Tomer threw a wrench into his momentum. It wasn’t often the kid asked him questions – most of the time he just bowed his head and waited ‘til Erik got bored. He shifted, wondering if he should dignify him with an answer or not.

“It’s a joke,” he finally conceded, frowning, as if he weren’t too happy about giving in. “Hated this shit back in my town who’s name was John, so I named ‘im Dead John.” He paused, waited for the hostility settled in again, to roost on his shoulders. “Maybe you’d better save yourself some time an’ name it Dead Shitty Rabbit ‘cause I could blow a hole in that thing a mile wide. Y’ever eat rabbit?”

[Tomer Berelowitz]

For the most part, Tomer had been able to keep his connection to Sean on the down low. Uncle Josh sometimes visited when other kids were around, and he was pretty sure a few people had figured it out. He wasn't trying to hide it, exactly, but he thought his life might go a little more smoothly if people didn't know Dr. Neville was family.

An eyebrow rose at Erik's proclamation that Clover was a name for girls. Tomer didn't know anyone of either sex named Clover, and furthermore thought it was pretty gender-neutral. Of course, a boy named Clover wasn't going to exactly have it easy, but Tomer didn't think there was anything inherently feminine about it. "Maybe," he said. "But it's his name too."

For an insult, Tomer thought Erik had the concept a little mixed up. He clearly liked his pet snake, so naming it after someone he didn't... yeah, the logic failed him. Not that it mattered. Tomer supposed the snake was lucky to have a name at all, or one that wasn't some sort of obscenity.

"You'd need a gun, and those aren't allowed here," he said calmly. "I've never had rabbit."

Rabbit meat wasn't kosher, but their family didn't keep it. For the most part, they bought chicken, sometimes pork or beef, salmon when it was on sale, and tuna. Meat was expensive in New York City, out of the ordinary stuff even worse. Even with Mopsy, if Tomer had been presented with rabbit he would've tried it. But he wasn't going to say it. Not in front of Clover.

"You have, I take it?"

[Erik Stewart]

“There’re a lotta ways you can kill a damn rabbit. I can still toss that thing in th’ fuckin’ dryer,” he said.

Mostly he’d eaten squirrel, though. They were easier to get closer to, more abundant, too – and they could be taken down by a measly BB gun. Before everything had gone to shit he used to take them to his dad to skin and gut, and they might have a scant stew for dinner. He still retained some of that knowledge. Of course, he might’ve gotten a little rusty; Hammel didn’t exactly allow for much impromptu eviscerating of small mammals.

Erik lifted himself up off the doorframe. He was getting a little tired of Tomer’s ‘turn the other cheek’ method; if they didn’t live together he’d probably long given up by now. It was just the kid’s luck that he didn’t…he, and his other roommates. Erik was downright malevolent to all of them.

Annoyed by the other boy’s conversational tone, he crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. Ignoring his last question, he went on. “I ain’t gonna keep DJ in his tank on account a’ your dumbass rabbit, so it ain’t my fault if it gets ate.”

[Tomer Berelowitz]

"There's a lot of ways to kill a lot of things," he replied evenly. Erik wanted to get a rise out of him. Tomer would not resort to threatening back, especially since he'd never do something as cruel as hurt someone's pet. He had no idea what would happen to Erik if he did kill Clover, but he was positive it would be bad.

With no answer, Tomer decided his roommate had eaten rabbit before. It was arbitrary and had a 50% of not being true, but eh. He didn't care.

"I know you aren't," he said. "That's why I keep my door closed all the time."

Except on days like today, where he would've closed it when he'd heard Erik moving around in the common room. The older boy had never kept very close tabs on his pet before. If anything, having a prey animal around increased the chances of DJ never seeing the inside of his tank just because that's how Erik was. Tomer had made provisions for it.

With Clover in his cage, happily chewing on cardboard and carrots, Tomer wheeled his desk chair closer to where Erik stood and held out a hand. "Could I please pet him?"

Meaning Dead John.

[Erik Stewart]

Erik was taken off guard when Tomer wheeled closer. He almost took a half-step back. The last thing people wanted to do, usually, was get closer to him after he’d done nothing but snap and hiss at them, and he was predominantly confused, followed closely by suspicion. Erik squinted at him. Even when Tomer professed an innocent intent, he still gave off the impression that he didn’t quite believe him.

“Fine,” he said, tense.

There was no way in hell he was bending down, so Tomer would just have to reach up to touch DJ. The snake had been relatively still around Erik’s shoulders, but as soon as the boy’s hand made contact those wreaths of black scales began to move again. DJ’s head emerged from behind Erik’s back. He slithered over his shoulder and stopped near the level of Erik’s chest, flickering his tongue in and out, gathering up Tomer’s scent.

Bite ‘im, Erik encouraged. Of course, he didn’t actually say those words to him – snakes did not understand words – but merely his intent, in nebulous thought and emotion.

DJ only looked up at him. Erik only sensed a sort of lazy confusion from him; he was a docile rat snake, only dangerous to mice, rats and the occasional frog. He probably wouldn’t have bit Tomer if he pulled him off Erik’s shoulders and shook him. Erik snorted, frowning, and muttered, “Y’never listen to ‘uh a damn thing I say.”

[Tomer Berelowitz]

For being so normally aggressive, the step back amused Tomer just a little, though he didn't show it. What could he do to Erik? Well, plenty actually, but he never would. On purpose anyway. The older boy still gave him the hairy eyeball, like Tomer'd said there was a Nigerian prince who just needed a credit card number so he could share this money he was transferring. What was more surprising was that he agreed to it. Honestly, Tomer had been expecting an insult and a refusal. Something like how he was too much of a Mama's boy to do something as daring as touching a snake or how Erik didn't want some prissy boy handling his pet.

With the lightest, gentlest of touches, Tomer reached up to let his fingertips pet over those smooth scales. He knew snakes weren't slimy like some kids (and adults) believed, but dry and quite nice. When Dead John's tongue flickered near him, he held his hand still so the snake could taste him. When he finished, Tomer petted him a little more and withdrew his hand.

He didn't miss the snake pause and look up at Erik, or the older boy's low words. Half a smile quirked on Tomer's lips. "You told him to bite me, didn't you."

Tomer wasn't afraid of being bitten. He knew rat snakes weren't poisonous, and he also knew that the second Dead John bit anyone, lacking poison or not, he would not be calling Hammel home anymore. "Thank you," he said. "He's pretty cool."

If it had been almost anyone else, he would've offered Clover to be petted in return, but... no. Besides, he didn't think Erik had any interest in holding something he'd just spent the last five minutes insulting.

Studying that freckled face, Tomer thought about the last week. "Are you alright?"

[Erik Stewart]

Dead John was much friendlier than Erik was. He liked new people. He liked tasting their scents. Tomer wasn’t new, not really, but their contact had been limited; most of the time the rat snake stayed in Erik’s room or in his tank, sleeping or eating dead mice. As soon he’d registered Tomer with his flickering tongue and his beady eyes, DJ seemed to lose interest, and turned away to slither up one of Erik’s thin arms.

Erik didn’t answer him, on either account. Yes, he had told him to bite him. It was common sense. Why wouldn’t he? And a ‘you’re welcome’ seemed superfluous and not at all sincere so he simply kept silent.

He raised his hand as DJ re-arranged himself over his shoulders. He was whispering in his ear about scents and Tomer’s noises and rabbit. The usual. Snakes were not very good conversationalists and they had, predictably, a one-track mind. I will feed you, he told him, knowing he had a few extra frozen rats in the mini-fridge, and the snake replied with as much excitement and pleasure a snake could feel. His tongue was flickering at his ear (Erik was tilted some ways away from it) when he answered the younger boy.

“It’s none a’yer business,” he said, but it seemed without the usual spite. Instead, he sounded vaguely tired.

Tomer’s interest in the snake seemed to placate him, however, and his threats and insults seemed at an end. He still gave him a bit of an angry look as he left, but left he did.