Stupid Gorecake:
Bathin' was neva' easy
⚠️CW:⚠️
•Very stinky, unhygienic character
When Piss 'Parker' Cakehole himself thinks and says aloud that there's a permanent smell of rotting human flesh, one that can be smelled from Teufort to the tundra, he must have a point. And while it was complicated to keep a base completely clean with a gallery full of not-so-fresh human sculptures, that wasn't exactly what was causing such a stench. No, it was a freak. A freak besides him who also lived in his base. Who could it be? Who could it be? Of course, it was Cakehole Piss.
The same one who had just climbed a wall like a spider when they mentioned something about water.
"Nay! I won't! Imma not to touch water!" he shouted from above.
"Yes, you will! It won't be because of you that I can't add new pieces to my collection!" He had already chased him across the walls, the ceiling, the outer space beneath the map, and outside. And even though the other had bumped into him several times, he had completely evaded him. Piss Cakehole stood with his arms crossed, staring upwards in irritation and a burning desire to kill his cheap imitation. "You smell so bad you could convince a Soldier that kilometers exist by torturing him with your scent!"
"...Hmmm... Torture with smell..."
It was pointless. They were both equally fast and agile. The only difference was that the one in red was smarter than the blue one.
"Cakehole Piss, I swear to the entity that created us, if you don't come down and take a bath I'm going to-"
"STEèEêEêEęEēEëEèEęEėEèEêEêEęEēEëEèEęEė"
And he was gone. He slid down the wall and flew out the window. There was a crash to the floor and then something running.
He didn't even bother to chase after it. It was going to be the same cat-and-mouse game as the last three days. And he wasn't going to waste his precious time on this. So, with a heavy heart, and the humiliation that came with it, he had to make a phone call.
_________________________________________
RIIIIIIIIING
RIIIIIIIIING
RIIIIIIIIING
RIIIII-
"Bonjour? Who would you like to speak to?"
"Ugh. You're the fucking angel. Is Christian Brutal Sniper there?"
Christian Pure Spy stared at the phone, looking confused at whoever was on the other end. He turned to look at the person in question, who was staring at one of the paintings in the church out of sheer boredom. They hadn't had any work these last few weeks. And with the normie police investigating the recent massacres at the forts on the outskirts of the city, the Sniper had to stay locked up and safe inside the church.
"Ahem. Sniper." He cleared his throat to get her attention. "It's for you."
"Is it a job?" He asked without moving, staring too intently at the copy of "Christ on the Cross" by Benito Prieto Coussent.
"No. But..."
"Hang up then. Don't bloody care who's callin'."
"But it's your boyfriend's brother."
"Hey! Angel! That idiot and I aren't brothers!"
"Tell 'im I'm busy."
"Tell him I heard him. And tell him that if he doesn't want a bunch of brainless freaks to know the location of his base, he'd better answer."
"..." He wasn't going to say all that, and although Christian Pure Spy never chickened out when threatened, the last thing he needed was to be doxed. "Brutal, you'd better take this call."
He growled and muttered curses under his breath before abandoning his contemplation of the painting and going for the phone. He roughly snatched it from his partner's hand and put it to his ear. He didn't even bother to hide the irritation in his voice.
"This had better be a matter of life or death. Or Imma make it a matter of death."
"...Listen carefully to these words because this will be the one and only time I ask for your help..."
At least the voice on the other end sounded just as irritated.
_________________________________________
There were many reasons why he should have rejected the 'offer'. Thousands, in fact, no exaggeration, many completely reasonable ones that he could have used to avoid what was about to happen. But the reward of a new melee weapon, still bearing traces of blood from a couple of victims and a serial killer, was too tempting. So there he was, in front of the abandoned fort, looking much worse than usual. The smell reached him long before the freak appeared.
"Karrrrrriiiieeeeeeeee!!!" He was moving like a slithering snake. And mumbling his name instead of... whatever it was he usually mumbled.
"Stop it right 'ere." He raised his hand to make the other stop advancing. He stopped just a meter away from him. And God, the smell was so much worse.
Cakehole Piss remained in an awkward position. One leg raised, head down, both hands clenched with fingers like claws. Was he going to hug him or attack him? Sometimes it was the same. But he couldn't wipe that stupid grin off his face.
"You stink worse than what your brother told me..." He covered his nose, making a face.
"...Technically he's not my brother but-"
"Bathroom"
"...Wot?"
"You think Imma let ya' near me if you smell like a rotten animal that was roasted with skunk farts and seasoned with pork scraps?"
As if the concept of smelling bad had never crossed his mind for the first time, Cakehole Piss sniffed under his arm. His face turned green instantly, and it wasn't necessarily his Rage Mode.
"Yeah, okay, I smell a little bad. But to take a bath..."
"What in the bloody hell is wrong with bathin', mate?"
"...I can't swim."
It was something Piss Cakehole already knew, and yet he had still tried to force him to bathe. A part of him that remained innocent despite everything hoped that, after giving his reasons, the other killer would understand why he was against bathing and leave him alone. But no. He saw Brutal's eye twitch like a nervous tic, but it wasn't that. It was a tic of anger. A tic that made him swallow hard.
Without even waiting for permission, he moved forward and grabbed the smelly man by the collar of his clothes and dragged him away. Cooper let himself be dragged because he had a feeling that if he resisted, his relationship with the Christian would be forever damaged. So he let himself be dragged through the fort until they reached the communal showers. They went inside, and he was left in front of one of the stalls. Karrie stepped back, crossed his arms, and stared at him. He didn't want to make him angry anymore, so he started taking off his clothes. There was nothing else to note; his body was quite similar to Christian Brutal Sniper's. Any scar or fight mark was always healed by his inhuman regeneration. Also, the difference between the skin exposed to the sun every day and the skin that was always covered by clothing was very noticeable. Speaking of clothes, his smelled like an entire colony of rats had died and rotted inside them. They were left on the floor of the communal showers. First things first: he had to wash his body. Cakehole Piss stared at the showerhead as if it were a snake about to spring out and bite his neck. The guy in red still couldn't believe the other's stupid aversion to water.
"...What are you waitin' for? Turn it on and get this piss over with."
"Can ya' promise me ya' won't let me drown?" He turned to look pleadingly into the other's eyes. The other just rolled his eyes and let his arms fall to his sides.
"I'm much more likely to kill ya' than drown ya'." And he dared to smile, the same smile he wore when he liked something. Of course, he'd be delighted to irritate him.
Finally, he looked up at the shower once more, grabbed the faucet with a trembling hand, and turned it. Brutal backed away a little more before the water splashed above him. Cakehole Piss hissed, for a moment he sprouted a cat's tail and ears, and jumped back.
"Nope, nope, nah. Changed my mind. I'm outta here—" The bucket of cold water caught him by surprise. And worse, with his mouth open. He thought his throat would close right there and he'd start choking. But that didn't happen.
"..." Brutal narrowed his eyes behind his glasses, set the bucket on the floor, and with a single finger signaled him to turn around and get back in the shower.
No words were needed. Cakehole Piss stepped back under the shower. This time, when the water touched him, he started flashing red while making small sounds of pain. He jumped out again, and was once more greeted with a bucket of cold water. One way or another, he was taking a bath.
The third time... He didn't react. He simply stayed underwater as if his thinking program had stopped him. Christian Brutal Sniper watched him for a while until he saw him start to move. He grabbed a sponge and soap that were nearby and finally began to bathe for real. He scrubbed the dirtiest spots with the sponge vigorously. Now he seemed enthusiastic.
Seeing him like this, the man in red decided to leave him alone for now while he went to get his reward. Much more than the new crooked sword, it was seeing Piss Cakehole's face contorted with bitterness when a mere 'human' completed a task that an 'inhuman' like him couldn't. That alone would have made the trouble of dealing with that stinking Cakehole Piss worthwhile. And when he returned, Piss had already come out of the bath wearing a new set of clothes. He was practically glowing compared to how he'd been before. Although the traumatized look was still there.
"Awwww. What happened, mate? Got water in your suit?" And being the heartless guy he was, he didn't miss the chance to tease him.
Cooper didn't reply. But since he was in a better mood, and perhaps feeling a little sorry for him, he let himself go this time. He approached him, opened his arms, and pulled him into a hug. He could practically hear the gears in Cakehole Piss's rusty brain working to He understood what was happening. Naturally, he was always the one who initiated any physical affection. But once he realized that this wasn't a disguised punishment, but simply a show of affection, he completed the embrace by placing his own hands on the Christian's back. And they remained like that for a long time.