In contrast, Zev did not want. He was back in Mossdeep City, and he was far away. His sandaled feet touched the asphalt of a shadowed alleyway, and he was floating through the vast expanse of space. Clouds of gas and dust curled around his obsidian limbs. The crimson light of red giants drew his starlight gaze. [break][break]

He heard Nenet, but her voice was so faint, as if she were lightyears away. Turning his head in the direction of the sound, he raised a hand to sift through the billions of planets—specks of fragile dust drifting between his fingers. [break][break]

After what felt like an eternity, he found it. Hoenn. His consciousness whipped forward through space and time. Suddenly, he recognized the side street and the sunset. The green uniforms that clothed them. The mask in her hands. [break][break]

Zev's eyes transformed back first, the empty void in his sockets solidifying into white sclera and blue irises. The starlight faded as his pupils reformed. Then the cells of his head reverted, revealing his familiar face. The metamorphosis continued in a cascade of skin and hair down the rest of his body until he appeared human again, inside and out. [break][break]

"Did you say something?" he asked, distracted, the change leaving him strangely bereft.

TAGS – Neffatari Nzingha[break]
NOTES – mission

[attr="class","pkmn"]

NOTES

- Zev Harcourt.[break]
- Mission: Post Prismatic Penitentiary.

MADE BY GUNSMILE

Finally, Zev looked into Nenet's face. Her expression bore a mix of emotions he'd seen before, but at that moment, did not know how to name. But her words registered, and he responded with a simple nod of his head. [break][break]

Their apartment was empty and dark. Disconcertingly, the front door was unlocked. Zev realized that the Megalopolans had forced their way inside to kidnap him while he'd been asleep; that was the only explanation for his successful capture. Thankfully, the lock itself was not broken. [break][break]

The mechanism's click was deafening in the silence. [break][break]

Wordlessly, Zev shrugged out of the green uniform and shoved it into the trash can. When the other prisoners had discovered their belongings on the ship, he hadn't bothered collecting his pajamas. The only item of import he'd taken back with him was his tungsten wedding band. [break][break]

He stared at it now, black against the pale skin of his left hand. It meant something important, he knew, but as he lingered in that dissonance of what he could be and what he was, all human significance felt so far away.

TAGS – Neffatari Nzingha[break]
NOTES – mission

[attr="class","pkmn"]

NOTES

- Zev Harcourt.[break]
- Mission: Post Prismatic Penitentiary.

MADE BY GUNSMILE

As more minutes passed, more of the real, mundane world came back to Zev. He felt the unearthly weight of the universe release its grip on him, tendril by tendril. When Nenet called for him, he turned toward her right away, drawn by the sound of her voice. [break][break]

Her demeanor reminded him of a caged animal. Perhaps that shouldn't have surprised him, considering the ordeal they'd just experienced. The sound of spraying water hitting tiles immediately brought him back to the communal shower of that alien prison. [break][break]

But as with all traumas of his life, his mind seized it, wrangled it into submission, and locked it away in a dark corner. It would rot there, alongside the memories of bullies, of boot camp, and of hazing. [break][break]

"Go ahead. I'll shower after," Zev said to Nenet, remembering to blink. He moved to walk past her, intending to check that their belongings had not been stolen in their absence.

TAGS – Neffatari Nzingha[break]
NOTES – mission

[attr="class","pkmn"]

NOTES

- Zev Harcourt.[break]
- Mission: Post Prismatic Penitentiary.

MADE BY GUNSMILE

Normally, Nenet's presence was a comfort to Zev, solace during stressful days and sleepless nights. But at that moment, with his consciousness reorienting itself to the microcosm and his brain still working overtime to compartmentalize his trauma, she was more aggravation than balm. [break][break]

"Not now," he snapped, bristling like an animal at her touch. Exasperation and fatigue colored his tone. "Arceus. What do you want from me, woman?" [break][break]

Another man might have heard his own words and realized at once he'd overstepped. Another man would have felt guilt or regret, then tried to make up for his rudeness. But Zev did not know how to feel those things.

TAGS – Neffatari Nzingha[break]
NOTES – mission

[attr="class","pkmn"]

NOTES

- Zev Harcourt.[break]
- Mission: Post Prismatic Penitentiary.

MADE BY GUNSMILE

When Nenet's grip only tightened and she shot back at Zev in defiance, his eyes narrowed and his muscles rippled with added tension. But he did not raise a hand nor make any moves against her. Instead, blue eyes studied her expression, watching her lips press into a frown. [break][break]

Her next words came out as a whisper. He realized, then, that she was pleading. [break][break]

Nenet never begged. Almost never. [break][break]

Slowly, Zev released the tension from his body. Years of studying human behavior allowed him this recognition: that she was lonely, frightened, vulnerable. That this time, she sought solace from him, despite the fact he was the last person who was fit to give it. [break][break]

It pleased him to know that despite their fractious exchanges on that Megalopolan ship, she still wanted him. And who was he to deny her, when he liked having her at his side most of all? [break][break]

Taking Nenet's hands in his, Zev gave them a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sorry." A fake apology, but perhaps she would not notice this time. Not while he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I'm here. Let's shower."

TAGS – Neffatari Nzingha[break]
NOTES – mission

[attr="class","pkmn"]

NOTES

- Zev Harcourt.[break]
- Mission: Post Prismatic Penitentiary.

MADE BY GUNSMILE