lieutenantantichrist | [17] [Text/Action for Mahogany] - "Whenever You Get Involved, Someone Gets Hurt."

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[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.

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[Blake's face twists into a feral snarl] He was a stupid, lying son of a bitch.

[He jerks his head away from the screen. Yanks himself back to approximate something sane. Seething instead of raging outright.]

Yeah. I thought he was right and it turns out he thought the same thing, no matter how fucking crazy he got.

_{[She does let out a slight snort at that. In hindsight, she actually didn't blame Claudia for having thought that. After all, it was Sunny the Togekiss she'd been looking at, and Sunny's about as close to 'angelic' a Pokemon can get, in personality and appearance.]

[But her tone turns murky when she replies.]}

More like brainwashed.

[Sour sympathy tugs at Blake's mouth. His mind jumps straight to one reliable source of brainwashing.] This would be a hell of a place to come to from a cult.

[He's almost amused as he turns his face up to look at the stars.] You know, that's what I thought this was for a while. Bunch of weirdoes who don't talk quite right and dragged us here from home. It seemed to add up.

Yeah.

It was.

_{[Claudia had died trying to build Paradise. It was the last thing she remembered. Showing up here... she thought she'd succeeded.]

[And Heather found out what it was like to feel sick with anger and utterly heartbroken at the same time.]}

I think this place strikes everybody as weird, but... to them, we're the weirdos.

[Okay, that. That wasn't the reaction he was expecting at all, especially over a discussion that apparently took place a long time ago.]

...How fucking crazy are we talking about, exactly? Since he's apparently also a liar?

I don't think she agrees with you.

[At least, he assumes that's his Snubbull. Or some other Pokémon.]

And are you sure he wouldn't listen? I mean, I guess I'd be wary in his shoes, but I feel like this is only gonna keep eating you up if you don't do something.

[Blake grumbles as he rubs his leg.] She could do that without jabbing me.

[Could she, Carter? Could she really?

He sighs.] I don't know. Guess I could think about it. If I...I don't know.

But hey.

[Then he meets Riku's eyes. He looks tired, beat up, and a lot more sober and steadier than he did a little while ago.]

Thanks. You know what you're talking about, for a kid.

Yeah. And they let us in anyway. Shit, if it were me and some weirdos kept popping out from nowhere and yelling about getting kidnapped, I'd've chased them into the woods with a shotgun.

[As they walk nearer the lights of buildings, Carter's hand lays over his sore jaw. Talking makes it twinge, but he's had plenty worse.]

Hey.

Would it be weird to say thanks?

For smacking some sense into me, I mean.

[Steve certainly means to thank her for that.]

[Blake's hands ball into hard fists, and sweat burns his abraded knuckles anew. His voice is raw.]

Crazy enough to murder eight little kids.

...Fucking hell.

[The anger he feels at the moment is usually kept for people murdering his loved ones right before his eyes, but he has no trouble bringing it out now.]

Should he ever show up here, and should I somehow get my mobile suit back, do you want me to unhesitatingly step on him? I can even do it eight times, for good measure.

_{[She looks up at him, then smiles crookedly and bobs her head a little, putting an extra bounce in her step. She wasn't honestly expecting to be thanked.]}

Nah. S'not weird.

I've thanked people for doing similar, in the past.

You're welcome, by the way.

Maybe it was. He's been gone for a long time now. Wherever he went, I hope he's doing all right.

[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.

[Carter knows that kind of anger. It's right there on his own face, and time's done nothing to cool it down.]

The son of a bitch is already dead, and he fucking got off easy.

That means nothing. I met a little girl here who remembered her own death, what's stopping him from showing up too?

[The thought worries him, even with the local 'no death' policy. So many children are traveling by themselves, easy prey for any crazy adult...]

[Riku blinks. Was that an actual compliment? At first he stares, fidgeting with one of his wristbands. Man, what does he even say to that?]

...Hey, no problem. Just try not to beat yourself up, all right? You're not a bad guy in my book.

[Naturally the thing for Blake to do is snap at him to quit being a punk pain in the ass and tell the damn story.

He doesn't. He keeps quiet, watching, and waiting for him to continue.

Continue he does, and it's a hell of a thing. As he goes on, what seemed like gibberish starts to cohere into something with its own sort of twisted dream logic. Redemption beyond the grave. Crazy shit.

Steve soon has her head resting on her paws and is nodding along. Maybe she makes something of all this.

Quiet as he is, when he hears about the girl running into a burning building, he's not aware that he murmurs aloud] Fuck, that's some balls.

[He starts leaning in closer, his eyes focusing. This he can understand. Some dumb kid playing hero and about to pay the price.

He's just about to snarl at him for telling his dog fucked-up stories about girls burning to death when he's shut up. He doesn't really understand what a magic egg has to do with it, but he gets that it's a sacrifice.]

His sacrifice pays off and it turns out all right.

So this is a fairy tale.

There a moral to this story?

[The look in Blake's eyes could burn a hole through the floor.]

If he does, he'll pay.

[Nothing focuses the mind like remembering the one who really deserves the full force of his hatred.]

It was all him. All of this shit was his fault. Never would have even been on that fucking rooftop if it weren't for him.

[You know, despite everything, that's a pretty good joke.]

You go to a library a whole lot different from everybody else's.

Edited 2014-08-15 12:30 (UTC)

Because he was stupid enough to grab the kid of a man ready to do anything to get him back?

[Let it not be said that Ash is bad at putting two and two together.]

At least there weren't nine deaths.

Turns out that was what he was after all along. Eight little kids drowned for his fucking daddy issues.

Then when somebody finally passes his fucking game, I...not me, but some other guy who's me...

[His eyes squeeze shut.]

I fuck up the happy ending.

Have you tried talking to him? I mean, you obviously care a lot about him, and I've only been talking to you for a little while and can see you're a smart one.

He might listen, if it's you.

[His smile is faint and crooked.] Hope you don't mean for punching you in the face.

[As they reach her door, he mentions] Hey. You wanna spar for real some time, gimme a call. You know what you're doing.

Night--

[He's about to turn away when Steve moves, and there is now a little pink dog fiercely hugging Heather's leg.]

[She likes being called smart. But she thinks about his suggestion, and her ears lower.] He's been strange for days. He won't listen to me, even when I have someone to translate.

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.]

Edited 2014-08-16 15:34 (UTC)

[Welp, time to sit up more. Couldn't speak so easily to someone who was a human.]

You're scaring your dog, you know. And it sounds like you've been worrying her for a while now.

My dog's not your problem.

[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.

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[17] [Text/Action for Mahogany] - "Whenever You Get Involved, Someone Gets Hurt."

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