Lt. Carter Blake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2014-06-23 05:22 am
lieutenantantichrist) wrote2014-06-23 05:22 am
[17] [Text/Action for Mahogany] - "Whenever You Get Involved, Someone Gets Hurt."
[ACTION]
[In a low-rent corner of Mahogany, there's a real gym. No mazes, no boss trying to fight you in exchange for something they call a badge, no lackeys, just weight machines and a floor covered with rubber mats, the way it should be. Open twenty-four hours, and this late there's no human in this room but Blake. He's in a sweatsuit, gray in contrast to the brown of the Hitmonlee holding pads for him in its upraised paws. The only sound is his harsh breaths and the thump of his fists on the canvas. His shoulders are hunched like a boxer's. His eyes look straight ahead. Judging from the sweat darkening the back of his shirt, he's been here a while.
On the other side of the room, a Snubbull is sitting on the floor, looking at a Gear that's resting on the mats. A Musharna floats beside her. Fifteen minutes of frustration proved that claws are no good for texting with, but she wants to talk to someone. She really wants to.
She snubs softly, so as not to make her trainer angry. The Musharna's eyes show no reaction, but the buttons on the Gear depress. The text that Steve watches appear seems to be accurate, more or less. The transcription might come strange through the dreaming creature. It's close enough for what she needs.]
[TEXT]
Hello lo low hello
Please talk to me.
I want to talk.
I will tell you my favorite story.
He told it to me when I couldn't sleep. His eyes were closed for some of it but I shook his knee and got to hear the end. Without the end it isn't a story.
Once
upon a time there was a girl. She was poor and alone because her parents were dead, and child services didn't exist then, so she had to go to live with her wicked stepmother and do work for her. Hard work, the kind that nearly killed her, but in time she got used to it.
Then one day she heard the prince was giving a big ball. She asked to go, but her stepmother wouldn't let her. So she tried to run off and get a ride to the castle from a knight, but her wicked stepmother had tailled her, and she found her and dragged her off the horse. While she was going, the wicked stepmother threw the knight a gold coin. He held onto it, and he kept looking at it all the time. He kept thinking about the girl.
He wanted to help her, but he couldn't.
The knight went to the ball, and he was going to kill the prince, but there were too many guards around watching him, so he ran away.
Then the knight went to find the girl and save her. The wicked stepmother grazed him in the neck with an evil spell, but he killed her and all the other guys too, even though he got hurt bad. At first the girl was scared, but then she was free and she was okay. She got to go back home to her real parents. The knight was a hero. All the papers said so.
And everyone lived happily ever after.
..........
..........
..........
Tell me your favorite story.
Voice or video if you can.
The words alone are lonely.
Tell me please.
[In a low-rent corner of Mahogany, there's a real gym. No mazes, no boss trying to fight you in exchange for something they call a badge, no lackeys, just weight machines and a floor covered with rubber mats, the way it should be. Open twenty-four hours, and this late there's no human in this room but Blake. He's in a sweatsuit, gray in contrast to the brown of the Hitmonlee holding pads for him in its upraised paws. The only sound is his harsh breaths and the thump of his fists on the canvas. His shoulders are hunched like a boxer's. His eyes look straight ahead. Judging from the sweat darkening the back of his shirt, he's been here a while.
On the other side of the room, a Snubbull is sitting on the floor, looking at a Gear that's resting on the mats. A Musharna floats beside her. Fifteen minutes of frustration proved that claws are no good for texting with, but she wants to talk to someone. She really wants to.
She snubs softly, so as not to make her trainer angry. The Musharna's eyes show no reaction, but the buttons on the Gear depress. The text that Steve watches appear seems to be accurate, more or less. The transcription might come strange through the dreaming creature. It's close enough for what she needs.]
[TEXT]
Hello lo low hello
Please talk to me.
I want to talk.
I will tell you my favorite story.
He told it to me when I couldn't sleep. His eyes were closed for some of it but I shook his knee and got to hear the end. Without the end it isn't a story.
Once
upon a time there was a girl. She was poor and alone because her parents were dead, and child services didn't exist then, so she had to go to live with her wicked stepmother and do work for her. Hard work, the kind that nearly killed her, but in time she got used to it.
Then one day she heard the prince was giving a big ball. She asked to go, but her stepmother wouldn't let her. So she tried to run off and get a ride to the castle from a knight, but her wicked stepmother had tailled her, and she found her and dragged her off the horse. While she was going, the wicked stepmother threw the knight a gold coin. He held onto it, and he kept looking at it all the time. He kept thinking about the girl.
He wanted to help her, but he couldn't.
The knight went to the ball, and he was going to kill the prince, but there were too many guards around watching him, so he ran away.
Then the knight went to find the girl and save her. The wicked stepmother grazed him in the neck with an evil spell, but he killed her and all the other guys too, even though he got hurt bad. At first the girl was scared, but then she was free and she was okay. She got to go back home to her real parents. The knight was a hero. All the papers said so.
And everyone lived happily ever after.
..........
..........
..........
Tell me your favorite story.
Voice or video if you can.
The words alone are lonely.
Tell me please.
[audio]
...Well. Can't ignore a request like that, can he?
Hiccup keeps his voice soft, even if there's only one creature around him that'd he'd end up disturbing. It seemed appropriate, given the hour, at the very least.]
I know a lot of stories, but I don't know if I could pick a favorite. What kind of story would you like to hear?
[video/text]
One with a happy ending.
well this got stupidly long
[He takes a deep breath, partly because that's just what he does, but also because he doesn't want to fill his time of thinking with just silence. His chosen tale might have been based on a memory, but he had a feeling that those involved might be offended about the severe changes he was making.]
Ah. Okay, so once upon a time there was a grumpy old Shroomish. He didn't like to leave his home or get to know anybody else, so soon all the younger pokemon grew afraid of him, and dreaded having to pass by where he lived. One day, a pack of Poochyena were going out to hunt for berries when the youngest, a curious little girl, wandered off to see who it was that made her family -- who she thought couldn't be afraid of anything -- so scared. If anyone had noticed what she was doing, they would have called her a fool like they had done so many times before, but they continued on their way and soon, the Poochyena was separated from her pack.
Lost and still burning with curiosity, the Poochyena bravely made her way up to the grumpy old Shroomish's house. It wasn't dusty or dirty, like you might've expected from a guy like him, but it was so clean the Poochyena had a hard time finding evidence of anyone living there. She snuck further into the house, using her nose to track down this mysterious old man she'd heard so much about, and eventually she found him resting in a dark room.
Being so young, the Poochyena -- she didn't really understand when people needed to sleep. When she woke up, she wanted her brothers and sisters to be awake, too, so even though she'd been told that she shouldn't, she'd gotten in the habit of pouncing onto whoever it was she wanted to play with. Not being afraid of the Shroomish like the rest of her family, the Poochyena jumped forward and landed on top of the Shroomish. Not surprisingly, he didn't think that was as great as she thought he would. Startled and angry at being attacked while he slept, the grumpy old Shroomish let out a puff of Poison Powder. When he saw who it was -- and how young she was -- the Shroomish did something he hadn't done in years.
He began to feel bad, and another feeling that he didn't know what it was, but I'll tell you because I'm the one telling the story, so I know. He felt some compassion.
Being a Shroomish, and a grumpy old one at that, it wasn't exactly easy for him to carry the Poochyena out from his house and into the town. Once he'd gotten there, though, he found another challenge. Every time he tried to ask one of the other pokemon for help, they ran away in fear. Some even fainted on the spot!
[He clears his throat some, preparing for a lower, gruffer tone, with a lighter one soon after.]
"I'm sorry," he told the Poochyena. "We live in a town of fools. Can't they see that there's work to be done? You need help."
The Poochyena, though poisoned, moved closer at his words, licking him on the cheek. "It's okay. I've been told I'm a fool, but I can still see that you're not the mean old man everyone thinks you are. We just have to show them."
He was mean, and he was old, but even the Shroomish didn't feel like arguing just then. Instead, he sat with her and talked until the moon shone bright in the sky. By that time, the Poochyena's pack had noticed her disappearance, and had spent hours searching for her. When her scent led them to the Shroomish's house, their hearts grew heavy and they made their way home with their heads hung low -- so low that they nearly missed her as they walked by. But because the Shroomish was talking with her, and she was of course the more chatty of the two even feeling as sick as she did, her mother and father heard the sound of her voice and were quick to rush over.
"Thank you for watching over our daughter," they told him as they used the berries they'd gathered during the day to cure the young Poochyena. "We've never known of a Shroomish who was as kind as you to stay and talk with someone in need." But they had, their daughter told them, and her pack was stunned to hear her speak so enthusiastically about the grumpy old Shroomish they'd all feared for so long. After making sure the Poochyena was healthy once more, the Shroomish made his way back to his home, now too clean and too empty.
It didn't stay that way for long, though, what with the pack of Poochyena returning the next night to share their haul of berries with him as thanks, and then the night after to see if he needed anything more. Night after night, they visited the grumpy old Shroomish, bringing with them food, stories, and friends, until eventually there wasn't a pokemon in the area that hadn't heard of his kind deed and grown to like speaking with him.
The Shroomish still thought of them as fools, of course, but he never was quite as grumpy again, and the youngest Poochyena became his favorite fool of all.
[Hiccup falls into silence after that for a few moments, then breaks it with a light cough. He couldn't be certain, but he had a feeling he'd fallen into rambling somewhere in there and could have missed his mark.]
The end. Sorry, you know, if that wasn't happy enough.
Dang son! *applause*
Steve, however, is as expressive an audience as you could ask for. Her eyes widen with worry as the little Poochyena wanders into danger, and she thinks of her friend Vince Lombardi, the one they got from Shaun Mars and raised from an egg.
As the story goes on, she forgets all about the sounds of steady blows behind her.
At the end, she softly claps her paws together. She begins to snub enthusiastically, and the Musharna rouses. The keys on the Gear depress and form words.]
Wow! That's a wonderful story. Thank you for telling me.
I think it's a good ending. A really good ending. The Shroomish hurt somebody, but he didn't mean to, and she was okay. He wasn't poison on purpose. And he made friends, even though he was grumpy.
Just because someone's grumpy doesn't mean they're a bad person, or scary.
[There's a rough grunt and a particularly loud impact from behind her that brings Steve back to reality. She glances over her shoulder, then her head hunches down.]
Most of the time.
no subject
...Your trainer being grumpier than normal? Is there something bothering them?
no subject
I don't know. Grumpy is normal. This is... He kept talking to himself. He's always complained that this isn't the real world, and that he's stuck here, but now it's...
He kept saying that what people said about there being a million worlds was bullshit. The same thing can't happen at the same time in different ways.
He kept saying that.
[She's quiet for a while as the steady thumping sound goes on.]
Your story was really good.
I'll remmber it.
no subject
[That seems a simple enough problem to tackle -- alternate realities on the other hand? Hiccup makes a low, thoughtful noise.]
...It is a lot to think about. Some people are stubborn, you know? Where I live, there are some of the most stubborn people to ever exist. They just need time. I'm... I'm sure he'll return to be a regular old Shroomish-type in no time, huh?
[After a little bit of hesitation, Hiccup switches his feed over to video to give the Snubbull a warm, if sleepy, smile.]
...Thanks. If I come up with another one sometime, would you like me to send it to you?
no subject
[Then she lets out a sigh.] I hope so. I'm used to stubborn.
But the most stubborn people in the world, really? They must be something else.
[She perks up to see a face come to join the voice. He looks like a nice boy, and he has a nice smile. It makes her feel a lot less alone.]
Yeah. I'd like that a lot.
no subject
[He loves Berk and can't imagine staying away forever... But the pokemon world was his first choice of an extended vacation spot.]
Oh, they are. They definitely are. My dad... One time he didn't even want me to know that he was listening to me. He was, but...
[Hiccup gives a weak chuckle, shaking his head.]
To prove it, he just gave my advice back to me as if it were his own. And my friends never stay put when they're supposed to. I guess I kind of don't do that either, though...
You'd be surprised at the kind of fights Vikings get themselves into.
no subject
I like them, though.
Friends don't stay put a lot around here, too...People go away all the time.
[She doesn't have much time to be sad over that before she's distracted.]
Hey, what's a Viking?
no subject
[Dragons, he's pretty much got. People, though? Nope.]
I guess some things never change...
Let's see... Well, I'm a Viking, but I was never the best example of one... Usually they're big, strong people with a bad attitude and a bad smell. They've gotten better about it over the years, but learning to ride dragons is still their greatest improvement.
They're really...nice people, in the end. Most of them.
no subject
Nice and strong to dragons, those are both valuable things! Worth a bad smell.
no subject
[Hiccup nods in agreement.]
Yeah... I think so, too. But dragons are just as strong against us as we are against them. It's like how dragons have a hard time fighting each other, I guess. That's why we try to work with them instead.
no subject
[Then she looks thoughtful.]
Are you a Dragon-type trainer? You must be brave. They're big. I'm not scared of them, though. Lots of big things that growl aren't really so scary.
Usually.
no subject
I...wouldn't say I'm brave, dragon trainer or not. [Not compared to others he knew, anyway.] I don't have to be afraid of them because they're my friends.
[Usually, indeed. Not that he's going into that.]
no subject
[She pauses her rapid snubing and takes a few breaths to calm down. The Musharna floats patiently.]
But lots of people know he's okay. Like Ash and Heather, and even the lady in red who kicked him a lot.
[She rests her head on her paw.] Making friends is brave, too.
no subject
[Well, he was the Shroomish, really, but Hiccup thought of him as a friend, too.
...He sure does miss the guy.
Maybe it's best not to push the poor dog on the subject of Shaun, since she seems to be getting worked up. He smiles, partly to encourage her, and partly because it was kind of funny to imagine the only lady in red that he knew kicking some gruff guy around.
Oh Hiccup, if only you knew.]
I guess it can be. It does get scary sometimes, doesn't it?
no subject
[Her trainer was so happy to meet another Cop type. There were a few of those, but then they went away. Steve didn't understand why that made him so angry. Sometimes people are here and sometimes they aren't. It's how life is.
The boy's smile cheers her up a little.] Yeah. Fighting's easier. You know what you're going to get, then.
no subject
[It is how life is! but... Didn't make it any easier when it happened. Not that Hiccup's ever really been angry about it. He tended to swing more towards sad and disappointed.]
Most of the time, yeah. You do. [He sighs.] I wish people could see that even though it's easier, it doesn't always make it the better option... But what can you do, when dealing with warriors?
...At least it's better than running away from the problem.
no subject
[That's something Steve can understand.] Yeah. Fighting's fun, but you can't do it all the time. You'd get tired.
I don't know how to tell him that.
no subject
He might listen, if it's you.
no subject
I don't know what to d
[That's when she hears the voice behind her. It's a voice pitched low, whose calm is a distinct reminder of how calm can be a temporary thing.]
Might listen to what?
[The Snubbull yelps in alarm and drops the Gear. Blake looms above it. He looks tired, his breath coming ragged and his eyes sunk deep. He says nothing else, and waits.]
no subject
You're scaring your dog, you know. And it sounds like you've been worrying her for a while now.
no subject
[Blake's arms hang at his sides. He can still feel the motion of striking over and over, embedded in the muscles. He looks coldly down at the black screen and the young male voice it emits.
He ignores the needle of guilt that jabs at him, and does not look in Steve's direction.]
Don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong.
no subject
[And if the story Steve had told was meant to be a happy one, well... She obviously wasn't getting enough of them at home. Whether it was intentional or not, Hiccup had noticed the depressing inconsistency.]
I don't know what it is that you're doing, but it's not helping anyone.
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