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If you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything. That was partly the reason why Owen's lips were stubbornly stapled shut for the time being as he escorted the scaley mass of fish in his hands along the corridors. The other half of the reason was that if he dared to pipe up one more time, his voice would screech off like some terrible train wreck and induce another fiendishly humiliating round of giggles within the merlad. His innocent inquiry was left unanswered for those very reasons.

He was officially done with trying to be nice. He'd tried, but if all he was going to be shamed by his obnoxious hoots of laughter, then there just wasn't any point in putting in the effort. From hereon, it was the silent treatment.

Upon reaching the bathroom, he set the thing down on the floor, as if he were a pile of someone else's laundry rather than a living, fragile creature. With an ungracious huff, he bent over, plugging in the bath, before twisting the cold tap to allow water to gush out of the end. At least he assumed it preferred cold water, taking a hint from the name. If it didn't, then... tough luck.

As the bath began to fill, he leaned on the edge with both of his arms folded. He continued to stay silent, aiming a particularly grudging scowl at Shiver.

Shiver didn't realize he was being given the silent treatment. He didn't even realize Owen had never answered his question, which means he probably wouldn't have listened to the response anyway. He was received by the floor with a deflating huff, like his fit had used up all his energy. With a childish moan, he flopped lamely onto his stomach and peered up at Owen with his chin on the floor, and his arms flailed oddly across the floor like he had no muscle to move them. And he was pouting.

The sound of water roused some motion from him, but it was merely a half-hearted quiver from the end of his tail fin. Owen's unhappy expression was met with a lazy sneer, and the fish exhaled again, sending some stray silvery curls of hair fluttering in front of his face.

Rrrooooccckkkk. The silent moan was whiny and childish. ..thirsttyyyyyyy...

He was at least clever enough to realize Owen was filling a tub of water. But filling it and leaving Shiver on the floor out of reach wasn't good enough in his opinion. The small, high-pitched noise that fluttered out of his throat was pathetic.

Owen wasn't about to spare any sympathy for the merlad's pathetic display. He'd dug his own pit, thinking that he could get away with making mockery of his voice. Well, he couldn't be sure if he was actually really mad at the creature, but darnit he was in a sour mood, and somehow, watching a fish squirm about uncomfortably helped to alleviate it. At least, he wanted it to.

Finally, his patience wore thin thanks to the fish's insistent incompetence. A resigned sigh escaped him and he uncrossed his arms. "Alright, alright. Just shuddup already," he huffed, before dipping a hand into the chilly water, scooping up a splash of water that probably turned into a light sprinkle by the time it would reach Shiver.

It was like babysitting a child. Some... freakish, animalistic child that had the attention span of a toothpick. And Owen certainly did not get along with children. He continuously eyed the bath, urging it to fill a little more.

Shiver maintained his pathetic warbling despite Owen's sighed demands to shut up, until faint and chilly droplets splattered across his face. He blinked largely and his noises faded one long, airy whine. With a great heave of frustration, the merlad planted both hands firmly against the tiles below him with a glare like it was entirely an huge and unnecessary inconvenience. He heaved himself forwards, scales making squeaky-slippy noises like new sneakers as he dragged his form closer to the tub.

Upon reaching his destination, both hands reached up to grip the rim of the porcelain tub with webbed fingers. He paused then as if to gather his breath from the effort, purposefully making the ordeal entirely more dramatic than it had any right to be simply because Owen had made him do it himself. With a great heave, his swung his arms over and tugged himself up until he was perched awkwardly with the edge of the tub under his armpits and his chin resting heavily on the rim. He hands dangled down just enough to dip his fingertips below the water, the temperature of which didn't seem to be a problem.

Shiver's gaze wandered to the spout that steadily poured out the water, then to Owen pleadingly.

..rooockk

He was very unspecific on what he wanted now, but the wide-watery-eyed gaze he laid heavily on the boy expected Owen to know.

When his generous splash didn't cause the merlad to immediately succumb before him, he gave an impatient groan. Gee, why did this have to take so much effort? He recalled how much more satisfied he'd be just to return to his dorm and sleep the rest of the day away. Yes, that sounded like a plan - especially seeing as how his nap was interrupted earlier. And who was at fault for that? He glowered down at Shiver.

He watched the thing try and squirm up the edge of the tub, to a questionable degree of success. He could help him out if he wanted to - and that was exactly why he wasn't. It was some sickening sense of superiority he never often found anywhere else.

"Something wrong?" he inquired, a rather snarky tone hinged to his words. He knew well enough that he probably wanted to go inside the tub, not merely the tips of his fingers. He was all too tempted to 'accidentally' flick the merlad's hold off the edge, but he realised that would probably result in another whine, that would likely bring about another headache.

He did see that the bath had filled to a rather satisfactory amount - say, halfway - and he reached to turn the tap off. Soon, the gushing slowed to a mere dribble, and he returned his expectant gaze to Shiver. What to do... "Do something funny and I'll let you in." It was the least he could ask of without access to his precious television.

Shiver's eye trailed Owen's hand as he reached to turn the water off, then rose to glare at the boy for his demands for something funny. The merlad curled his lip back over his teeth as he hissed menacingly to tell Owen what he thought of his bargaining. Damp fingers gripped the curved edge of the tub and with a speedy heave his slippery form was propelled over the wetted porcelain. The ease of the action was entirely too languid, unveiling his previous display of difficulty for the pretense it had been.

Of course, thrusting his entire form into the half-full tub of chilly water generated a health splash that sloshed messily over the edges. Whether it managed to connect with the rock or not, Shiver pretended not to notice either way even though it was entirely his aim to do so.

A gleeful whistle hissed from between his teeth and the merlad hunched his shoulders up while he slipped lower on his back, and sunk his head below the surface. A small barrage of air bubbles fluttered to the surface of the water from his mouth and nose as he exhaled, and his tail fin curled happily up above the tub before flopping lazily to dangle over the rim--an action which, similarly to the innocent splashing, may have been loosely 'aimed' at Owen's face.

After a few short moments, the bubbles subsided, but the creature stayed below the surface with his eyes closed like he had every intention of taking a nap there and then.

Well, his offer didn't work. He had almost expected it to, he was starting to believe that Shiver was enjoying acting like some sort of clown for him. Well, he probably wasn't doing it on purpose, but Owen was rewarding him for it, so he didn't quite see what the big deal was.

The ease of which Shiver hauled himself into he tub did pique a stare from him.... That dirty sneak.

Owen didn't react all that well to the water that was splashed in his general direction. From where he was leaning on the side of the tub, he leapt onto his feet, squirming away from the uncomfortably cold wetness. He glowered - had the merlad even noticed? It seemed not, and he allowed himself a deep breath.

Lowering himself to sit on his knees, he leaned his folded arms atop the rim of the bath, before resting his chin on the top. It sort of reminded him of days babysitting his younger sister - and it wasn't entirely days that he wanted to recall. It was sort of the same thing... except he didn't have to worry about Shiver drowning if he wasn't paying attention. That was a plus side.

But as another splash of water sprinkled on his face, his expression turned to revolt. That was intentional. He saw the dastardly thing now, probably trying to hide underneath the water. Unfortunately for him, water was pretty damn well see-through. He dangled an arm over the edge, aiming to give him a rough nudge on the shoulder. "Oi," he grunted. "Don't do that."

It was fortunate for Shiver that with his eyes closed, he had not seen Owen reeling backwards away from the splashing. Otherwise, he likely would have lost himself to a fit of giggles at his success and given himself away. As it was, he remained 'napping' beneath the surface and missed the student's glowering.

He was actually extremely content in the cool water, having been out and dry for quite some time today. Of course with Shiver, it was not a peace that would last. But he did sigh happily, flooding his mouth with water and working it back out through the gills above his ribs. The chill it caused inside his torso made him quiver happily.

Shiver became very alert after the success of his second smaller splash when the surface of the water was disturbed, and he felt the water displacing above like an extension of himself. There was an unexpected pressure when he was nudged and his shoulder was briefly bumped a little roughly into the porcelain floor of the tub. Eyes snapped open wrathfully, not because of the nudge really, which hadn't been hard enough to cause him pain, but because there happened to be a hand there to play with.

Both sets of webbed fingers shot forwards to try and latch onto Owen's offending wrist and forearm. The movement caused the water to slosh against the sides of the tub, but it was fortunately not filled enough for much to reach the edges and spill over.

Look at that little watery doofus, thinking he's so cute and mischievous, he inwardly bemoaned as he observed the apparently ignorant merlad. Such was hypocritical thinking - less than an hour ago he'd been admiring just how dastardly adorable the thing was. Well, he'd remembered that he wasn't an adolescent female, and that he wasn't about to fangirl over something so annoying.

The coldness of the water was uncomfortable on his hand, yes, but it was easy to disregard. As the nudge connected, he felt a stroke of absurd satisfaction, mostly because he had expected something to go horribly wrong... or something.

But it was only a matter of time before Shiver would return the favour. And he did - lashing out webbed hands to grasp his arm. Owen probably could have wrenched his arm away if he put in the effort... but he didn't. He allowed the clammy fingers to cling to him, only jumping slightly from the surprise.

"You wanna play hardball huh?" he muttered coldly. He'd tease him a bit. See how he liked it. Rather than pulling back, he thrust his captive hand forwards, aiming to tickle the gremlin's stomach area into oblivion. Malicious? Probably not. But he had to amuse himself somehow.

Shiver had no plan beyond grabbing hold of Owen's arm and not letting go, not that he had ever been or ever would be one much for plan-making. Stubbornly holding on was as much fun as one could hope for! When the student above him spoke, the water barrier between them made the sound muffled and mumbly otherwise he might have wondered at the meaning of 'hardball'. As far as Shiver was concerned, he was winning because the rock's arm was his prisoner. He was not counting on an onslaught of tickling.

He was caught unprepared when Owen plunged his hand downwards, and failed to hold it back. Even as the attack began, the merlad was unable to force the hand upwards despite his desperate grappling and shoving because he simply was not the stronger.

A tirade of bubbles erupted from Shiver's mouth when he could hold it in no longer, and the muffled high-pitched shrieks of hysterical laughter could be heard resonating beneath the surface. He squirmed frantically to and fro on the slippery floor of the tub and his tail flopped widely above them.

In fact, torturous as the tickling was, it was turning out to be so much fun, that Shiver forgot to be sore about losing.

He laughed so hard that he felt himself tiring out, but until Owen desisted, there would likely be no rest.

Noooooo, nooooouuuuu!!!! He squealed giddily towards Owen, the barely directed thoughts shimmering in and out of coherency like it was too difficult to focus them. Ssssss!!... Stooooopp~~!!

Another barage of merry bubbles burst from his mouth and he threw his head back with his shoulders hunched up, belly sucked in as far as it would go.

As his fingers frantically raced down the merlad's apparently sensitive form, he tried not to let his desperate (though heart-wrenching) squeals distract him. He admitted it - he expected the thing to get mad and start trying to gnaw his hand off. From the irritating way it had been acting, he'd anticipated nothing else.

But he was glad - the fish was actually enjoying it, if not in a somewhat torturous way. And so was Owen - a wide smirk spreading across his lizard-like face.

It took some amount of sadism to continue, but he did, plunging in a second hand to add to the horror. Heck, he found himself leaning more and more within the tub, careless of splashes that would hit him.

"How'd you like me now!" he half yelled, half chuckling. Yes, he was pushing his luck. But he was going to take full advantage of these small moments of entertainment.

The laughter that continued to erupt from the water in a storm of bubbles eventually grew so desperately exhausting that the sound simply fell away and the merlad was left gasping and thrashing in silent howls of mirth.

Finally when he felt like he would surely die of laughter, Shiver scrounged up every last invisible fiber of self-control and forced his muscles to launch himself of Owen's neck and shoulders. He threw his arms out wide and stretched them as far as they would goo--He envisioned himself coiling forcefully around the rock's neck and clambering to where those fun but torturous claws could distress him no longer! He would drag the student down into the water forcefully and force him to breath the water like a fishy until he flailed his stupid arms an yielded to Shiver's dominance!!

Of course, that's what he imagined.

In reality, Shivers arms managed to rise out of the water and flail a bit lamely in the air, scramble a bit at Owen's forearms, maybe even scratch at him mildly even though he couldn't garner enough muscle control to cause any real damage. His tail which was supposed to be coiling strongly around the student's neck to help subdue him quivered and flopped about like any fish does when plopped onto the floor of a fishing boat.

Somehow, though, Shiver did manage to twist himself onto his stomach so he was able to gasp at the liquid that flooded through his gills and greedily harbor any fleeting oxygen it offered.

All of the thrashing about, needless to say, cause quite a bit of the water to travel impressively far and wide across the bathroom.

Could fish suffocate? The thought had never really occured to him before, but the more he continued, the more he starting to consider it. Not that it deterred him in continuing his unprecedented assault, but he was honestly curious.

The 'retaliation' was half-expected, and he could do nothing else but watch as the fish flailed its flubbery fingers over his forearms. Not that it was very effective though. But it did distract him from the tickle-attack, removing his arms from the poor merlad to try and flick the tiny hands off him.

He stood back a moment, observing the room for a moment. It was... wet. Well, to Owen's personal standards, it was still pretty clean, since water pretty much dried by itself anyway. Plucking a towel from a cabinet, he rubbed his hands with it, before his face. Well, it was a pretty futile effort, no doubt he'd only get splashed over again, but he hated the feel of that cold water. It was around then he was starting to realise that he was rather tired. It felt like he'd been babysitting this brat for almost a year.

He walked to the edge of the tub again, peering down to see if there were still any signs of life. "Are you done yet," he asked in a flat, raised tone. Whether or not he was prepared, his hand reached down in an almost threatening manner - before pulling the plug.

Shiver was spent. After Owen finally ceased the attack, he only had enough energy to slowly heave his weight onto his shoulder and let himself fall that remainder of the way so that he was once again on his back and gasping up at the ceiling. His little rib cage heaved up and down while he breathed heavily, a few lingering giggles bubbling out of him.

He didn't answer Owen's question, probably didn't even really hear it. His eyes did linger for a moment on the hand though, before he slid those closed and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

The sound of water rushing to escape down into the pipes below the tub filled his ears. The water gurgled and sputtered in his mouth as the level fell below his face, and he coughed once in reaction to the change from breathing water to air.

Some incoherent noises filtered out of his throat, and he blinked up at Owen. One eye narrowed into a thin red slit, and the other remained wide in an awkward display of a 'stink-eye'. Then quite suddenly, both hands grasped either side of the tub's rim and his torso shot forwards. His soaked curls clung to his face and shoulders, and one hand shoved the hair off of his face and into a tangled mess on his forehead, before returning to its death-grip on the porcelain.

Cake!

It seemed the merlad was also pretty exhausted - maybe Owen wouldn't have to monitor the thing anymore. Maybe he could return it to that tank... or wherever the heck it came from. It could probably find its own way back, he assumed, because Owen wasn't about to expend more effort in carrying it places.

What he didn't expect was the merlad to lunge forward to the edge of the tub, giving him some sort of strange, unpleasant look. He found himself reeling backwards, his brows furrowed, but a defensive sort of grin on his face.

"Haha, cake?" he asked. "You want cake?" He chuckled to himself, shaking his head, before snapping his head back towards the merlad. "CAKE? Are you serious?! I've spent the past God-knows-how-long carrying you everywhere, giving you sweets, makin' you a bath and now you want cake?! What else you want me to do, pull a unicorn out my ass?!" He promptly did a head-desk, out of half tiredness, half impatience. Although, given the environment, it was more of a head-edge-of-bathtub.

There was just one question that sparked to mind: why was he reasoning with a fish?