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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[She laughs.]

It's not a Wailmer, those are way too big! It's--... ah, hold on, let me see if I can draw one.

[And the screen goes blank. A few minutes later, Anemone's back, and she has a sheet of paper and a bright pink highlighter.] Promise not to laugh at my art, okay? I'm not an artist.

You're right.

I walked across town in the middle of the night to come not talk to you.

Actually, I was thinking I could join in. It's been awhile since I've trained with anybody but my Hitmonchan.

_{[She folds her arms.]}

How about it? Yay? Nay?

[He looks at her darkly over his raised hands.] Did my dog call you?

[He shakes his head like a bull. His shoulders are raised, hunched up.]

I'm not punching a little girl.

Get out of here.

[And as absorbed in telling the story as he is, Yusuke doesn't actually notice the sudden absence of background noise either. He's a little surprised by how much Steve seems to be enjoying listening to him - surprised, and also pretty pleased, which is probably why his answer to Steve's question regarding whether "the guy" died or not comes out sounding a lot more cheerful than it really ought to.]

Yep! Cracked his skull open on the concrete and died right on impact. In fact, it happened so fast the guy didn't even know what the hell was goin' on at first. He saw his body on the ground, saw all the people standing around and gawking at him like it was some kinda screwed up free show, saw the jerks in the ambulance pick him up and stuff him into the back of their ride, but it wasn't until he sat down and tried to focus on remembering everything that'd happened up until then that finally he was like, "holy shit, I'm a frickin' ghost."

That's when things got even weirder.

Out of nowhere, this girl riding an oar showed up, and at first, the guy was freaked out. Thought she was some kind of witch. 'Cause, y'know, that's really what his day needed, was a visit from a fucking witch. But then when he asked her who the hell she was, she told him...

[Yusuke pitches his voice up and puts on a goofy accent. It sounds vaguely British.]

"Oh, no one! Just the Grim Reaper!"

[Yusuke's voice goes back to normal. For the most part, anyway, because he continues to use the "Reaper voice" whenever necessary as he progresses through the story. ~~You're welcome, Botan.~~]

The guy wasn't buying it. He said, "the hell you are! Since when was the Grim Reaper a cute girl with thunderboobs and not a skeleton in big black robes?" And then she pulled a book out of her kimono and flipped through it and said, "Oh yeah, I thought you'd be kind of a dick! It says here in my stupid stalker book that you are, and also that you're loud and obnoxious and your grades suck! Golly gee, your life was pretty crappy, huh?" Because that's not creepy or bitchy at all. The guy got pissed off and told her off. Said to her, "hey, if you're gonna run your mouth so much, could you at least tell me something useful, like whether or not that kid's okay?" Then the Reaper asked him if he wanted to go see for himself, and they went to the hospital where the kid and his mom were.

The kid was fine. A little scraped up, but hell, compared to the guy, he was in great shape. Satisfied that the kid was okay, the guy told the Reaper he was ready to leave. "Take me to Hell or where ever else I'm supposed to go. I've got no regrets." And y'know what the Reaper did?

She laughed right in his frickin' face.

The guy felt like punching her out, but since she was kinda hot, he asked her what her problem was instead. "Oh, I'm not here to take you away from the living world," she said. "I'm here to give you a shot at getting your life back." See, apparently the people up in Spirit World, the place where people went after they kicked it, hadn't expected him to die that day, especially not by saving a kid 'cause he was such a scumbag. In fact, if the guy hadn't interfered, the kid woulda survived anyway. Basically, his death was a fluke. A fuckin' cosmic accident. So because he'd died unexpectedly after tryin' to do a decent thing for once in his life, Spirit World was offering him the chance to undergo this trial to be brought back to life.

The Reaper made it sound like it'd fix everything, but the guy knew better and didn't wanna do it. He said, "Y'know what? I kinda like being dead. Now my teachers won't have to nag me and my mom can get wasted whenever she wants, and I won't have to listen to any of 'em talk about what a pain in the ass I am. It's a win-win situation. You said it yourself that I was goin' nowhere fast, right?"

"Well, that's depressing as hell," said the Reaper. "How about you go to your wake and make your decision after that?"

The guy wasn't real convinced, but the Reaper buzzed off before he could argue, so he went ahead and went to his wake later that day. There was a bunch of people there. Way more people than he expected, most of 'em from his school. They were all talking and laughing, though, so he was like, "oh, great. These bastards probably all showed up just so they'd get extra credit and have somethin' to pat themselves on the back about later!" That was what he thought at first, but then, uh...

... then he saw there were people there who were actually pretty upset about him dying: the girl he'd known for forever, his mom, the principal of his school. Hell, even the ugly guy he'd beat the crap out of earlier that day was there, yelling about what a giant prick he was for leaving him with nobody to fight.

["Who am I gonna fight now? Who am I gonna fight?

You're supposed to be here... for me."

It's been a year - hell, a couple years, if you count the time he's spent in Johto - since that night, and Yusuke can still hear Kuwabara's words in his head, clear as day. It makes him think, for a second, about a more recent time when he'd had to listen to Kuwabara freak out about him dying. And then he quickly makes himself stop thinking about it, because he knows if he does, it'll put him in a weird mood, and right now, he's got shit to do.]

The little kid he'd saved was there, too. Didn't seem to realize what was goin' on, though, because after he and his mom paid their respects, he, uh -

[Yusuke lets out a rueful laugh.]

He asked his mom when the guy could hang out with him again. Said all the people at the wake musta been crying 'cause the guy was nice and they wanted to play with him too.

... It was right about then that the guy realized something. It wasn't that everybody around him thought he was a worthless pain in the ass and didn't want him around. He was just so busy bein' pissed off about all the people who did think that way that he never noticed the ones who didn't. Or he just didn't realize that some of the people who were always getting on his ass about stuff did it 'cause they gave a damn, like with his mom and his principal and the girl.

[Suddenly, Yusuke seems a touch distant.]

It was, uh...

It was a real eye opener.

[He's quiet for a moment. Then he shakes off whatever sort of melancholy it was that took hold of him and continues, coughing a bit.]

Anyway, after the wake was over, the Reaper came back and asked the guy if he'd made a decision about whether or not he wanted to do the trial. The guy thought about how sad the people he cared about were about his death, and then said, "Yeah. Sure. I'll do it."

So they went to Spirit World to meet King Enma, the god of the dead.

[A spasm passes over Blake's face.] God, that would be fuckin' nice to believe.

[To keep telling himself something late at night a lot when he's staring at the ceiling, just replace it's not real with it wasn't your fault.

He'd be in good practice. He thinks that one a lot already, anyway.]

His kid blames me.

Somebody else must, too, or I wouldn't be here.

Oh, I see. Humans have types too? Like Cop type, that's what my trainer is. I've never heard of Viking type before.

Nice and strong to dragons, those are both valuable things! Worth a bad smell.

[The sound Blake snorts might be a laugh's dead, dry second cousin.] I used to trust that. Look where it got me.

[Blake looks down at his hands. They ache, like the tired ache deep in his muscles, but it's not enough to make his head shut up.

This guy, he talks like God is a real thing. Something personal.]

You believe in that? God, and judgment?

[The words feel strange coming out of his mouth.]

It's tough not to, when one's your father and another's actively trying to sleep with you.

[...it's complicated.]

But here? Fuck no, I don't.

That's a good way of putting it -- and I've met some Cop types before. They're good people.

[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.

Of course he does. He's lost his dad in probably traumatic circumstances; it'll take years before he can look at the situation with anything that even resembles objectivity.

[If he ever can. If he ever should.]

...That can't be it. Otherwise, the 'you' that actually went through with it would have been brought here instead, if there's any justice in the world.

War? No.

[Blake shakes his head, not knowing what the kid is talking about.]

Only one shot fired.

[Steve places her paw over her heart and snubs sincerely.] I won't laugh. I promise.

[She waves her paws in encouragement.] Let me see.

[Okay, now that cuts right through whatever is going on in Blake's head and yanks out a sincere]

What?

...Man, that probably coulda used some context, huh?

Actually, she and I were having a real nice conversation about rabbits that had nothing to do with you, so yes but no.

_{[She pauses, vaguely insulted but mostly just exasperated by his refusal-- it's not like it comes as a surprise. Still, her eyes are hooded when she replies, matter-of-factly--]}

Funny, you didn't used to have a problem with punching little girls.

_{[That's right Blake. You're never living down that thing with Parker.]}

Edited 2014-07-11 18:45 (UTC)

[Right now Blake is beyond anything going on around him, nothing matters besides what's in his head--

That hits home hard.

Blake snarls and rams his fist hard into the pad.] Fuck you.

Well, okay...

[It's crude, but not a horrible drawing of a mermaid with red marker. She shrugs a little as she holds it up.]

Mostly like that, except actual mermaids look nicer.

Hah. You sound like some kinda psychologist. [There's no bitter edge to it, for once.]

I thought he was hallucinating or something. It'd make sense. Half-drowned kid, left standing in water for fucking days by some psycho--

[In a sudden jerking motion, Blake slams his fist into one of the pads held by the Hitmonlee. Then he drops his hands and stares down at the mats on the floor. His hands stay in tight fists.

Ash's voice brings his head up, and he's struck with genuine surprise.

He has actually never thought of that.]

I...shit. You got a point, there.

[His brows draw down again. He can't get out that easy.]

But I'm the same guy. Just with different luck.

[Steve bend close to take a good look. True to her word, she doesn't laugh. It's a perfectly fine ~~totally kickass~~ drawing.] I see! Like a Dewgong that's part person.

[Not an evolution she's ever heard of, but there's stranger things in the world.]

You said a little one. Are they...usually large?

[For a second, Blake's issues slip his mind. He wipes sweat from his forehead and shakes out his hands.]

How about you start from the beginning. Your parents are who now?

[You know, there's something incredibly funny about this whole conversation.

Maybe it's that Ocelot is having a reasonable conversation with a Pokemon belonging to the guy he really wants to fuck with.]

It could have been.

I don't think about this sort of thing often, myself.

[The guy who is just starting to notice, over the sound of the blood in his ears and his fists against the pads, that there are low voices coming from the other side of the room.

Steve doesn't notice. Her ears are lifting with curiosity at something else.]

You don't wonder why you're here? Most people seem to. They ask about it a lot.

[Her arms wrap around herself.]

Do you think it's because you did something bad?

...That poor kid. Any possible reaction would have been understandable after that ordeal.

[Ash's hands are fisting, too, at the thought of children being left for days in the hands of a madman like that. At the thought of one child being left for days in the hands of a madman like that.

He can understand why the boy's father must have committed acts that made him look insane to find his son. He understands perfectly.]

You don't just have different luck, you have a different kill count. I'd say that last part matters more than the rest.

[Ah, okay... So it wasn't about that D-Day talk. Or whatever it was called. Still, one shot. That can only mean one thing...

Riku's face pales slightly, and a crease forms along his brow.]

...And were you the one who fired the shot?

_{[If Heather's fazed by that, she doesn't show it. She's probably not. It's hardly the worst thing anyone's said to her before.]}

Okay, we can play it that way, too.

_{[She sinks into a crosslegged sitting position right there on the edge of the mat. In a way that suggests she's not gonna leave.]}

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

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