A freaking zachcro thing I wrote for my moirail.

my big dumb gay babes

You are an idiot. This guy could be whoever. A drug dealer. A killer. Or worst of all. A sociopath. He's pretty short and lanky, that stupid sweater he's wearing hangs loosely off of him, the same with his pants and almost everything else. This boy however, is wearing some weird mask. It looks like a toad but like it doesn't? You don't know at this point, but what you do know is you're going to talk to that weirdo.

You slowly approach him and you notice he's really small. And cocky.

"Well. Well. What have we here?" You put your hands in your pockets and wiggle your earfins a bit. All the boy does is look around and chuckle. "Me? You're talking to me?" You break out a large grin, nodding a bit "Hell yeah I am; who are you?" The merchant cleared his throat, straightening his sweater "I am the merchant needed in every vide-" You cut him off "If you're a merchant, what will you do for a twenty?" Man, you are so cool. In fact, too cool, too cool because this merchant is leaving. You quickly grab his arm, trying not to look desperate, you let go of his arm and smooth your hair back. The merchant looks at you, maybe looking at how nice you look. The merchant lifts the holy grail- and by holy grail, you mean his mask, he has these little dots on the sides of his lips, he also has freaky yellow eyes. "Why did you grab my arm?" He pursed his lips to a tight, small line. You straighten your shirt, stammering "I- uh- well. Please don't leave." The merchant's pursed lips open to talk but nothing comes out. You stare at the ground because you know the merchant's going to leave, it happens all the time.This is perfectly normal for you. But the merchant doesn't leave, he just stands there, he knows he a complete idiot for staying-maybe he doesn't know, but he will know how much of an ass you are. he presses a finger to his lips, thinking "So your question, 'what will you do for a twenty', I'm guessing that's like a hooker joke? Seriously? You expect me to scream your name even though I don't even know your name." You break out a wide smile, "Name's Cronus; for future refence, you?" the merchant sighs "Zacharie." Zacharie. Zacharie. Holy shit, the name rolls perfectly off your tongue, but when you actually say, Zacharie just gives you a confused look and a small smile. Yep. This kid's a keeper.

((WOw hoLY DanG I FINISHED IT.))