Zagan Michael Leviathan

There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in proportion.

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Ball-Jointed Doll || Zagan & DJ

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Zagan pulled the fragile creature beside him closer and took one of his hands in his own, rubbing the back of Dorian’s palm with his thumb. He wanted more than anything to comfort the boy but he wasn’t exactly sure how. He curled himself against Dorian and listened. That’s all he could do for the time. He rubbed his shoulder slowly and took in all he had to say. The stabbing pains grew quickly as Dorian’s emotions spilled out onto the floor. His foggy mind refused to connect the pain with the scars for a rather long time before it hit him. “Dearest Dorian, you’re not at all a failure. You’ve got such grand plans and so much time to put them into motion. You and I, both.” He thought of wiping tears away from the boy’s cheek but at that moment it felt like it would be no use. He sighed to himself and pulled Dorian back up as he had been seemingly given up on holding himself up correctly.

When what he had said seemed to do little to nothing, Zagan placed his finger under Dorian’s chin and guided his gaze back into his direction. “Listen to me, Dorian. We’re going to be great. We are going to conquer millions and our names will go down in history. Do you understand me?” He decided it was then a bit more appropriate to try what he had thought of before and wiped his thumb across Dorian’s cheek then once again made sure they locked eyes. “We’ll either be worshipped as gods or feared as demons, but either way we will make ourselves known. I would not have involved myself with you if I didn’t know you could help me achieve my goals and I yours. I know perfectly well what mess you’ve dragged me into but I can assure you that it has only made my mess look much more unorganized and will only set it straight... If that makes sense.” 

He gave up quickly and rested his head against Dorian’s, then closed his eyes. “You and I are connected now. That means that we’ve got to look out for each other and that’s what I’m going to do for you. I won’t let anyone get in the way of your plans as long as you won’t let anyone get in the way of mine. I’ll destroy your enemies and kill your fears because if you go down, I go down with you and there’s nothing that can be done about that.” He paused and bit his lip lightly before continuing. “You cannot and will not fail. We will achieve greatness or die trying. But I’m going to need you to be strong and know that you are only seventeen. You aren’t expected to have impacted the world greatly. Not yet, anyways. But now is the time to make our mark. We’ll work towards it and all will go accordingly.” The weight of his words felt much heavier than they sounded, but it was true. He would quite literally do anything to make it work and he knew Dorian would do the same. At this point, it was only a matter of when his partner would build back confidence and they put their plans to action. But for now, he sat in silence and let the ferocious creature beside him drown in his fears. It was probably good for the both of them.

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Ball-Jointed Doll || Zagan & DJ

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Zagan watched quietly as Dorian went on about his troubles. From what he caught, he wasn’t surprised. The boy worked himself half to death each day and even if he might not let himself think about it, there had to be some sort of fault buried deep in his subconscious. In many ways, including the small meltdown he was witnessing, Dorian reminded him of a narcissist. If only how he worked for perfection. Not that he could blame him, no one got anywhere sitting down and doing nothing. In his drunken state of mind, Zagan couldn’t quite figure out what to do. He felt that he should pet the boy’s head and console him like a lost child or hurt puppy. Then the idea of taking him back to the dorms came into mind, but he didn’t want to interrupt the assumed rare instance. He could tell him that he was nothing less than perfect for the being he was, but instead he just listened.

Dorian grabbed his hand rather firmly and pulled it towards himself. He fell forward slightly because he had been supporting his upper half with that arm, but quickly regained his balance. He looked over the scars that had formed and remembered how he appreciated their beauty. Watching them twist and curl their way to their other half for the second time reminded him of just how connected the two were. It was the moment where everything clicked. Yes, it had happened, but he had never thought of it correctly. But now he was here and so was Dorian and the two of them were in it together. His mind faded away from what was real as he thought over what exactly that meant. He reached out with his other hand and traced it along Dorian’s forearm and over his hand until one of the delicate scars connected with his own.

He then looked up at the boy in a bit of a daze and breathily answered, “What? Mess?” He paused, looking into Dorian’s eyes to find what words to say. “No, no. This isn’t a mess at all. Well, yes, it is a mess.” Zagan brought himself back, shaking his head slightly. “But I am a mess in more ways than you know. So don’t think for a second that I pity myself for becoming involved in such a way.” He pushed himself forward and sat upright, keeping eye contact so that Dorian couldn’t blow off what he said next. “You are nowhere near failure, my dearest Dorian.” He reached out to place his hand on the other’s head then bring it down to his neck. “But I don’t want to cut you off if you feel that it’s important to talk about, alright?” It was apparent that the boy was hurting and for whatever reason he was beginning to feel small pains in his own chest. Less of an aching feeling and more like tiny blades finding their way under his skin. “Come here.” He held his arm out. It was strange hearing someone call him a friend, but it was almost comforting. If he were going to be a friend he'd help Dorian through whatever mess he had gotten himself into. Oddly, he wanted to. It felt off but he couldn't think to do anything about it. “What’s got you feeling at such a loss?”

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Ball-Jointed Doll || Zagan & DJ

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Zagan held the back of his hand to Dorian’s forehead. “You’re a bit warm but it’s to be expected after drinking more than your little frame can handle.” He himself felt so out of it he barely felt like the same person. Not a different soul, but his body was not his own. It felt more like a puppet with a couple broken strings here and there, not fully allowing him control. He was smaller than Dorian in many ways when one disregards height. It was strange to see the other boy reacting so negatively when physically he should have been able to handle whatever was thrown at him at least a bit more than Zagan. It must have been the lack of experience. “You’re not ill, you’re just not doing it right. You think far too much and you’re taking whatever fun there is to be had out of it for yourself. But in the end, most drunken creatures our age have found someone to snog for the evening and are probably going to wake up without a clue of where their clothes have disappeared off to. Not that what we’ve chosen is serious, it just isn’t as mind numbing.” 

“Friendship is a terrible, disgusting creature that in the end of things is merely fueled by jealousy and fits of rage. All relationships are deadly. Erotic flings end just as badly as a long term friendship, or at least I’ve noticed in the environment around me. I could be assessing things wrongly. Considering I’ve been lacking in both. Well, no. Actually... Yes. None of the relationships I’ve built have involved actual heart so I’m not sure if I am allowed to pass judgment.” Zagan half smiled, if only to fill whatever emptiness fell over him after that statement. “Well, I can relate to your pains. I’ve got such lovely lips but the inside of my mouth is nothing but festering wounds and irritated scars. It’ll fade to more of a buzzing feeling. It’s strange but you get used to it.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek slowly and attempted to focus long enough on Dorian’s face to figure out what exactly he was going to do with it. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll make you beautiful.” He reached out to touch the other boy, then quickly retracted. He huffed dramatically then with an annoyed tone spoke, “Your skin doesn’t even require foundation. You’ve got no terrible blemishes and it’s disgusting.” He quickly pulled out a fine powder and a large brush. “Close your eyes.” He ordered, then dusted it lightly over Dorian’s cheeks and forehead. He was curious but didn’t come to think of the right question for a long while. It still hadn’t come to him but a few others had popped into his mind on the journey. 

“Dorian, you’re so fragile. Why is that? You’re normally so very... cold. It’s taking a tole on me. Dearest, I’m craving things I supposedly shouldn’t.” He smiled to himself at how differently that could be interpreted. “No, that’s not a very good way to put it at all.” He grabbed a neutral pallet of eye shadow and brushed a light brown just over the crease of his eyes. “It’s very enticing, is all. You’re battling it with what fierceness you normally hold, but it’s slipping.” His foggy mind was failing him at the time and it was very apparent. The words that slipped from his tongue were toxic and could get him in a nasty mess at any moment. He could feel it, though. He wanted more than anything to run his hands through the boys hair before bringing all of his cluttered thoughts and pain to an end. Clutching harder, he would bring Dorian’s skull to the stone beneath them and watch all of his pains drift away. He breathed in deeply, forcing himself back to the situation at hand. “Yes, I’ve got something like that.” Zagan pulled a handkerchief from his pants that had been previously thrown across the floor. “Wipe your mouth, dear. Spit if you must.”

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Ball-Jointed Doll || Zagan & DJ

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Zagan smirked. Dorian’s cockiness should have been offensive or possibly intimidating. It should have grinded away at his self esteem and bit large chunks of any confidence he had off then swallowed them down to a pit of self loathing and unsureness. Dorian’s harsh words could probably cut down any other student in the castle, but they never seemed to phase him. It felt more like a game than anything. “Well, yes. But are you sure you’re going to be one to fall into such vain traps? The short skirts and high heels will only send you spiraling into a whore-ish lifestyle. The next thing you know you’ll be blacked out in a ditch because you couldn’t handle the coke your Daddy gave you and I wasn’t around to clean up the mess. It’s power if you don’t fall for everyone else who’s hopped on the trend.” He paused for a moment, thinking over what he had said. It didn’t all make much sense. No, not at all. “You’ll understand what your mother and I are telling you when you get older.” He sighed.

Zagan’s eyes trailed slowly down Dorian’s torso, farther and farther until eventually they met the floor. If they didn’t seem to be fighting him in a battle against the now ridiculously heavy gravity he just might give the boy another glance. “Watch it. I’ve spent good money on the pieces I buy and I can promise you that is no simple rag.” In the ongoing battle, Zagan found it necessary to get up before he changed into what he had brought for himself. His words fell to the ground and shattered like glass as he pulled himself from the depths of nothingness. He swayed back and forth slowly once he got to his feet, bringing his gaze back to the other boy’s being. He felt sick. No he didn’t. He wasn’t sure. Alcohol was a funny thing with him. It would show no signs of impact until it all hit at once. 

The boy fumbled at his belt buckle then nearly tripped over his pants as he tried his best to find his way out of them. The top half came next but nothing seemed to come off without a fight. He struggled over the thought of silver rings and gold thread. It didn’t go. But it did. They did it in the twenties, he could get away with it if he pleased. Zagan pulled the dress up from his ankles to where he assumed it was supposed to go and for the moment didn’t bother zipping the back. Dorian’s inquiry did manage to catch his attention. He curled his way around the boy and brought his nose to the crook of the other’s neck, then his fingertips. Pressing down a bit harder, tempted to leave a bite, Zagan thought for a moment. He breathed in slowly, Dorian’s cologne finding it’s way to his senses once again. “My darling, Dorian. I would have to cry. I couldn’t let anyone that found us think that I could possibly have anything to do with it.”

Taking his time, his fingers lingered as he thought of Dorian’s blood trickling down his neck and eventually pooling on the stone floor. If the impact was hard enough and he could have access to the wound he imagined bits of skull and torn skin, all leading so delicately to what made Dorian himself. Zagan closed his eyes and took another deep breath. His mind fogged as wicked fantasies came in and out of focus. “You’ve heard what they say about me. Both students and faculty are unnerved by my presence. I don’t need them thinking I somehow meant for you bleed. It’s not a matter of sincerity in them, it’s a matter of image and keeping myself out of the line of fire until I put myself there purposefully.” He sighed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I completely forgot to answer your previous question.” He fell away and returned to the floor. “Makeup and some jewellery I thought would look beautiful with what you’ve got on. Which would you like first?”

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Ball-Jointed Doll || Zagan & DJ

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Zagan: Zagan watched DJ as he contemplated opening his own bottle. He decided it would be for the best and grabbed another from his bag, opened it, and took a quick sip. He was far past just getting used to the burning but his mind only felt that it had just begun to fog up.Another swig then he was on to more important things. Well, what they had gone there for. He pulled himself together to begin searching for various items. Brushes first. He had brought far too many of those for what little amount of makeup he would be applying that night. Next would be various pallets of eyeshadow. With a copious amount of extravagant colors, Zagan made sure to separate the neutrals from anything vibrant and put reds and greens off to the side. “I only come down here when I’ve got important things to do. So I guess I don’t find my way too far, considering most things are in three specific cells off... in some other direction, I believe.” Zagan stumbled a bit over himself and found a seat on the ground, pulling out a few foundations and powders. “You cannot wear cake makeup.” He unknowingly spoke a bit too loudly. “I swear on my drag mother’s life.” Life spat from his lips as he held out a blush brush rather dramatically. “I will have nothing to do with a trashy queen. Not one thing, you understand?” He dropped his arm then attempted to look Dorian directly in the eyes, his own widened. “Not one thing.” The words spilled out and it was at that point he noticed the alcohol taking real effect. After the last of the makeup, Zagan retrieved a pair of stockings as well as a pair of heels. "Now, darling, I've got these sorts of things... But depending on your knickers you might and general preferences you may or may not actually want them. Oh! Oh, and shoe size. Your feet don't looks as long as mine. That's a problem, you know. Having feet that are shorter than your heel. You slip and slide and then, BAM, you're bleeding out on the floor and I'm crying over your corpse... All for dramatic effect, of course." He'd done it once before and he'd do it again. Quickly he took two large drinks then pulled the dresses he'd brought out of his duffle bag. The boy smiled to himself then found his way directly in front of Dorian. A bit dizzy, he grabbed the other's shoulders and balanced himself before dragging the dress along with him. He held it against Dorian's torso and giggled to himself. "It's so short, I'm certain I've never seen this far up your thighs before. Come on, now. Lets get down to business. Put it on, lovely. I want to see you all dressed up and pretty for me." Smiling widely, Zagan accidently hit his forehead lightly against Dorians while bringing it down to look at his own body. He noticed they were much closer than normal, but lost track of the thought quickly. The dress he had picked for Dorian was rather short and much tighter than the boy would approve of, but that wasn't of any importance. He pulled away slightly and held it out. "Hurry, now. The fun begins here."

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Ball-Jointed Doll || Zagan & DJ

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Choosing to ignore a good part of Dorian’s ramblings on the wall he had pressed himself against, he thought of all he knew about the boy that stood- well, tried to stand before him. He watched him as his words blurred in and out of focus. There wasn't actually too much he had ever told him. They were in so deep, to the point where they had no choice to back out even if they wanted to. He shook his head and returned his focus to what was being said before him. Unsure if he was interrupting a thought, he spoke up. “Yes, wonderful. Excuse me, Dorian. But what exactly is your favorite color? What sort of toys did you play with? Who do you absolutely hate? I mean, in the school. Anyways, what about your hair... Why do you cut it that way? It looks like mine, almost. I’m not sure why I cut it this way sometimes. Do you... Do you... Oh, nothing. I just-” He stuttered and came to a stop as Dorian pulled him in the room.

“I feel like we missed a supposedly vital part of most relationships. Though I know your plans, I don’t seem to know much about your... You. Well, of course I know some. You’re extremely transparent, you know.” Zagan dropped the bag beside them then pulled Dorian down to the floor to sit with him. “Yes, this is the cell... I think. They all look the same. Well, not all. But the empty ones do, yes. Yes? Are they different? No, I’ve been in a good amount.” Dorian’s seemingly endless speech on anything and everything that came to mind seemed to come off a bit on Zagan as he thought through their situation. “Oh well, that’s unimportant. But please, darling, do nothing of the sort. If I wanted you to die tonight I would have brought a larger knife along with me and you most certainly would not be drunk.” The words flowed out without a single thought attached. For a moment he regretted his choice to speak them, then he quickly got over it. Lightly, he ran his fingers over the other boy’s tendons and admired the structure of his fingers. Long, thin, pale, and very clean cut. He quickly turned and grabbed the bag he had brought along, then pulled it out and handed it to his confused partner in crime. “Drink up, Dorian. Things can only get better from here.”