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ill-go-with-that-then · 5 years

Text

More Erasermic Model AU??

Part 1

Shouta can’t hide the small smile that crosses his face as he steps off the subway platform into the station proper. It would take a stronger man than him to remain expressionless in the face of Hizashi Yamada, grinning at him and waving like a loon.

“Aizawa!” Yamada says, hurrying over to him. “You’re right on time!”

“So are you,” Shouta says, appreciatively. There’s a lot to appreciate about Yamada, though his punctuality certainly isn’t the least of it. Currently, Shouta’s admiring the line of his shoulders beneath his leather jacket.

“I hope you’re hungry!” Yamada says, linking their arms as they walk out of the station together. Shouta stiffens at first, startled by the unexpected display of affection, mild as it is, but after a moment he decides to roll with it. Yamada seems pleased with the arrangement, and Shouta finds that he doesn’t mind the closeness.

They make small talk as Yamada leads them through the neighborhood. Shouta keeps an eye on their surroundings - it’s not the kind of place he’d want to walk alone at night, and he wonders how well Yamada knows the area, if there was a reason he’d wanted to meet up at the station and travel together.

“Here we are!” Yamada says, coming to a stop outside a shabby building, the first floor of which is a yakitori restaurant. At least it’s clean, Shouta thinks to himself as Yamada holds the door for him like a gentleman.

The man behind the register flicks his eyes disinterestedly in their direction. “You brought a friend today, Yamada?” He asks, eyes on his newspaper. “My wife will be excited.”

“Nooo,” Yamada groans in the way people do when they really mean yes. “Don’t tell her! She’ll scare him off.”

“You did it to yourself,” the man shrugs. “Does your friend need a menu?”

Shouta doesn’t hear Yamada’s answer, too busy looking at the photos on the wall behind the register, casual snapshots that must be the owners’ children and grandchildren. There’s a picture of Yamada there too, smiling at the camera and pointing at a magazine with his own image on the cover. It’s not a very good photo - the lighting is poor, Yamada’s smile is too wide and foolish, and he’s not quite centered in the frame, but Shouta likes it. There’s nothing studied or inauthentic about it; Yamada’s giddiness is nearly tangible.

He only breaks his gaze when Yamada beckons him away from the counter. “You must come here often,” Shouta says, nodding towards the pictures. He hopes he doesn’t sound as surprised as he is.

But Yamada just grins, leading Shouta over to a booth in the corner. “Not as much now as I used to. I live upstairs.”

“You live upstairs?” Shouta can’t help repeating, wondering if he’d misheard. Yamada hasn’t been in the Industry all that long, sure, but he’s a big enough name now to own a flashy penthouse in a nice part of town. Not an apartment above a cheap restaurant in a neighborhood that had seen better days.

“I got the place when I moved to the city a few years ago. The rent was low but I could still barely swing it.” He shoves a worn menu in Shouta’s direction. “Everything’s good, but the tsukune’s unbeatable.”

Before Shouta can answer, a girl appears at the end of their table. “Is this your boyfriend, Yamada?” She asks, curiously. “And do you want your usual?”

“No!” Yamada flushes prettily across the bridge of his nose. Shouta feels a sudden flare of longing for his camera. “I mean - yes I want my usual, but no he’s not my boyfriend! And you are being super uncool right now!”

“How would you know? You’ve never been cool,” she smirks at him, then turns away from his sulky pout towards Shouta. “Do you know what you want?”

Shouta doesn’t bother trying to keep the smile off his face. “Whatever he’s having, I’m not picky.”

“Clearly,” she rolls her eyes, turning back to Yamada and ignoring his outraged gasp. “Grandma’s gonna kill you for not telling her you were bringing someone.”

Yamada slides down into the booth, then brightens, like he’s thought of something. He looks at the girl, saying a few words Shouta doesn’t understand. They sound like English.

The girl scowls, then says a few words back in the same language, much more slowly. Yamada’s small smile widens.

“You need work,” he says smugly. It’s a cute look on him.

“Maybe if my tutor were around more,” the girl says as she turns away, towards the door Shouta presumes leads to the kitchen.

“Hey! I’m here every day! You’re the one who never - aaand she’s gone,” he sighs, dropping an elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand. “University entrance exams are coming up. She’ll be singing a different tune then.”

“You tutor her?” Shouta asks, because he’s curious. He hadn’t heard that Yamada spoke English, let alone well enough to teach it.

Yamada smiles. “Yeah! She’s pretty good actually. Back when I first moved here, I couldn’t afford much besides rent. Sometimes I barely had enough for dinner. The Hasegawas - they run this place - would let me hang around even when I didn’t order much. Hanako - she’s their granddaughter - would be hanging out too, studying. And I didn’t have much else to do, so I’d help.”

“That was nice of you,” Shouta says.

Yamada just shrugs. “Nah, she’s a good kid. And Mrs. Hasegawa started sending me home with some of the leftover food when the place closed, so it was a good deal for me too!”

Shouta doesn’t know what to say to that, and before he can figure it out, Yamada changes the subject, asking him about his work that day at the studio. His answers are short at first, clipped and impersonal, but soon enough Yamada gets him telling stories about all his most difficult clients.

“You’re shitting me,” Yamada asks, after hearing about a particularly irritating model. “So she wanted mixed nuts - a specific brand of mixed nuts - but with no cashews? She wanted you to pick the cashews out?”

Shouta shrugs. “I mean, I don’t thinks she cared who picked them out, as long as she never tasted, saw, or smelled them. Took for-fucking-ever.”

Yamada’s jaw drops. “Holy shit! You actually did it?!”

“Had to.” Shouta takes a sip of his beer. “Until I get an assistant, and can shove the grunt work at them.”

“I pity them already,” Yamada grins.

When they’ve both finished eating, and the conversation reaches a natural lull, Shouta leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can I ask you something?”

“I’m an open book,” Yamada smiles, gazing at him flirtatiously through his eyelashes. It takes Shouta a moment to remember what he was going to say.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Yamada straightens, his mood shifting mercurially. “Don’t you like it?” He asks. The words are casual, but Shouta gets the sense that a lot hangs on his answer.

“I do,” he says. “But it seems very... personal. This place clearly means a lot to you. More than most people would show a first date.”

“Ah,” Yamada smiles slightly, shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, I suppose it does, but-” he runs a hand through his hair, like he’s a little embarrassed. “If you were just going out with me because of my job, you would have hated this place, and it would have been really obvious.”

Shouta is saved from responding by Hanako bursting out of the kitchen and half-running over to their table. “Grandma’s gonna be done in the back soon,” she says, handing Yamada a paper bag. “I packed you up some stuff to go. If you hurry, you can make it back to your place before she comes looking for you.”

“I owe you,” Yamada says, vaulting out of the booth before opening his wallet and shoving some bills at her. Shouta follows more slowly, just to give him a hard time.

“Don’t you want me to meet all your friends?” He asks as Yamada herds him to a side door. “Isn’t that why you brought me here?”

Yamada cringes. “Aizawa! She’s gonna talk your ear off! Be nice to me or I’ll let her!”

“Does she tell embarrassing stories about you? Maybe I’m interested,” Shouta says, though he follows Yamada into a hallway and up a barely-lit flight of stairs. Like the restaurant, the rest of the building is clean, but poorly maintained. Good tenants, bad landlord, Shouta thinks to himself as the steps creak under his weight.

Yamada’s apartment is no better. The one window is cracked, and the floor is uneven in places. Most of the furniture is old and beat-up, but a few pieces are nicer, clearly new additions. If Shouta had to guess who lived here, he would have said a poor student who suddenly came into a bit of extra cash, not one of those most famous models in the country.

They settle in front the the kotatsu to continue their conversation. It’s easy to fall back into it - Yamada is personable, and an important part of Shouta’s job is coaxing people to open up to him, to reveal things they’re used to keeping hidden.

“You wanna know a secret,” Yamada asks after a while, leaning in conspiratorially and smiling in a way that makes Shouta want to agree to things without thinking. Even knowing this, he nods. “I own the building.”

“You own-” Shouta glances around at the shabby walls, the cracks in the ceiling. “You own this building?”

“The Hasegawas were always so worried about the rent going up,” Yamada says lightly, like he’s talking about the weather. “I used to hear them talking about it, when I was waiting around to see if there was any leftover food. So when I started doing well with the modeling, I bought the place and hired a property manager to offer them a ten-year lease.”

There’s a strange feeling in Shouta’s chest. He can’t identify it, but it makes him want to slide closer to Yamada. “And they don’t know?”

Yamada grins wider. “Nope,” he says, eyes bright and pleased. “Though they might suspect when the repairs start.”

Shouta thinks back to that first day with Yamada, how annoyed he’d been at him before they even met. He’d nearly made such an ass of himself, assuming Yamada was the kind of person who’s throw a tantrum over mixed nuts or which brand of bottled water he was given, and Shouta half-wants to apologize for it.

But he’s never been the kind of man who dwells on the past. It’s much more rational to focus on the future. “Are you still accepting applications?” Shouta says, inching his hand closer to Yamada’s and linking their pinkies together.

“Uh - applications?” Yamada stutters. He’s blushing again. Shouta makes a mental note to bring his camera next time.

“For a personal photographer.” Shouta smirks, enjoying the way the flush spreads down Yamada’s neck. He wonders how low it goes. “I’m very interested in the position.”

Yamada’s eyes darken. He licks his lips. “I can think of several positions you might be interested in. Maybe we could discuss them over another dinner?”

“Or breakfast,” Shouta shrugs. “Like I said earlier, I’m not picky.”

Yamada’s grin is sharp around the edges now. He leans very close, lips nearly brushing Shouta’s ear as he whispers. “How do you feel about cold yakitori? It’s all I have in the apartment.”

Shouta turns his head sharply, quick enough to catch Yamada’s lips in a brief kiss. “It’s a date.”

#erasermic #maizawa #since some people asked for this #and I'll pretty much do anything if somebody asks #*eventually*#also ILY guys you are the best <3<3 #my ramblings #my writing

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somethingusefulfromflorida · 5 years

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So, I learned something recently...

Mary Kate Olsen (the top billed twin; I feel kinda bad for Ashley) is married to a man 17 years her senior, who also happens to be the half brother to the former President of France.

That sounds like the plot to one of their movies! Like, there’s a foreign exchange student at their school and they discover that he’s secretly foreign royalty. I can picture the whole thing in my head, I’ve thought about this a lot:

It has a late 90s/early 2000s aesthetic; kinda grungey and “totally radical, dude!”

Twins Mary Jane and Kelsey are just your average upper middle class teenagers living in multi-million dollar beachfront property with their widower dad, a security guard with dreams of being a detective. His firm just got a big contract to provide security for the visiting diplomats of the vaguely Eastern European kingdom of Slovotia (it’s generically foreign; funny accents, weird customs, offensive Slavic stereotypes, the works. The writers based it on Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, Austria-Hungary, Ruritania, Backwardistan, etc)

At school, the girls are introduced to hunky Slovotian exchange student Nico. He’s, like, SO cool, but he doesn’t flaunt it. He’s quiet, tries not to make waves, and sneaks away at lunch to be by himself; the girls follow him and find him talking to a a burly bodyguard. Turns out, he’s the Crown Prince of Slovotia! His uncle, Count Bartok (who is clearly the antagonist but SHHH don’t tell anyone, we don’t know that yet) is visiting America as part of the Slovotian delegation; his brother, the King, wants to normalize relations with the west, but the Count doesn’t really like America.

Nico and his bodyguard Dolf (a hulking man of few words) ask the girls not to reveal his secret; he just wants to live a normal life, and be a normal teenager. The girls decide to show him around town and introduce him to hip American concepts like the mall and beaches and fast food.

They buy a hot dog from a street vendor, and Nico looks appalled. “My uncle, he say Americans, they are dogs, but I did not know they were to be eating them, yes?”

“They’re not really made out of dog, Nico! Try it, you’ll like it.”

He takes one bite, and is enraptured. “This is best thing I have ever to be eating!” He walks over to the vendor and offers to buy him out. “You there, meat monger. This dog that is hot, it is food fit for king! I buy your shop, I pay ten million Slovotian Kronle, good price yes?”

“Sure thing, whatever you say boss! Good price! Great price! My ticket’s finally come it, it’s easy street from here on out!”

They show him around “the city.” It’s never specified which city that is though; they live on a beach and go surfing, so it might be LA, but there are hotdog vendors and people with Brooklyn accents, so it could just as well be New York. Maybe there’s a shot in the middle of the film where the bad guys are looking at a satellite map of the USA, and the camera zooms into the center of the country, or there’s a blinking red dot somewhere on a random coast. The point is that there is no definitive location; it’s just meant to represent whatever city is closest to the viewer’s hometown (the writers didn’t put that much effort into it because this is a no budget direct-to-VHS Mary Kate and Ashley movie. What did you expect?)

Dolf follows them everywhere they go, and Nico complains that he wants to have some privacy. “You do not be seeing other kids with bodyguards, yes?” Wacky hijinks ensue as the trio try to evade him; there’s definitely a chase scene set to a punk rock song like SR-17′s ‘Right Now’ or something by Bowling For Soup. They sit on a park bench reading newspapers as Dolf runs by, then hightail it in the opposite direction. They casually steal hats and sunglasses from passersby to blend into the crowd. They walk in line behind a couple buys carrying a sofa. The chase ends with them hopping into a taxi and laughing with one another as we see Dolf give chase for a second before giving up in frustration.

Nico confides in the girls that life as a prince is not easy. His father, King Vladimyr XVI, is always telling him how big a responsibility he has, how important he is to Slovotia’s future. “My father, he tell me, Nico, you will one day be King, so you must to be acting like one, yes?” It’s so hard to be royal, he can never just be himself, he has to act a certain way to make his parents happy. The girls tell him that they know exactly what he means; high school isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either. They have homework and chores, and they too have to act a certain way or the cool kids will think they’re a couple of losers with a capital L (Nico doesn’t understand what the word cool means, “what does temperature have to be doing with this?”)

Suddenly, the trio is attacked by some dude in a track suit and gold chains with a jersey accent; he tries to kidnap Nico, and just when all hope seems lost Dolf appears from nowhere and lifts the would-be abductor up by the collar.

They interrogate him; Dolf holds him by the ankles from a second story window. “I ain’t sayins nothin, youse will never get a word outta me.”

Dolf says that if he doesn’t start talking he will disappear. “Maybe you wake up in gulag, yes?”

He sings like a canary. He was hired by Count Bartok to kidnap Nico. Bartok hates America and thinks his older brother Vladimyr is foolish for trying to normalize relations with them. He hoped that by having Nico kidnapped, he could blame the American government and end the diplomatic mission early. If anything were to happen to the boy, Bartok would become next in line to be king! He’s going to blame the girls’ father for Nico’s disappearance because he was supposed to be head of security.

“That’s everything I know. Hey, I’m sorry, okays? I just needed the money, ya know? I ain’t a bad guy, I’m just in a bad sitchy-ation.” The girls tell Dolf that he can let the kidnapper go, but he takes this literally and drops him out of the window (onto a bush! He’s fine)

They have to race to city hall to meet the Slovotian delegation and stop Bartok from doing anything drastic. Mary Kate plays the edgy tomboy, so she teaches Nico and Dolf how to skateboard so they can get across town super fast. This sequence is filmed with a fish eye lens so it looks “totally bodacious.” As the group barrels down the crowded sidewalk, pedestrians leap out of their way.

They make it just in time to be locked out of the ceremony. Bartok is giving a big speech condemning the Americans for kidnapping his poor nephew, and the girls have to watch helplessly as their dad is taken away in handcuffs. Dolf uses his espionage training to break into city hall and get the trio into the sound booth undetected.

“Hey Dolf, where’d you learn to do all this stuff?”

“I have many skills” (he is implied to be ex-KGB and it’s played for laughs)

The girls interrupt Bartok’s speech with video they took of the kidnapper revealing his entire plan. Bartok denies it, but the girls’ dad pulls some as-yet-unseen sleuthing skills out of his ass to prove that Bartok is lying, finally living his dream of being a detective. Nico bursts into the room and orders the Slovotian guards to arrest his uncle, but Bartok pulls a pistol and holds one of the twins hostage. Nico uses some of the American skills he learned to free her (he kicks his skateboard towards Bartok’s feet, and he slips on it)

Bartok is taken away, screaming that he would have gotten away with it were it not for those meddling twins, and the girls break the fourth wall by making a Scooby-Doo joke to the camera. Nico delivers a heartfelt speech to the gathered crowd at city hall about how much he has come to love America and how he’s proud to be representing Slovotia and normalizing relations with the west. He wants to open malls and hot dog stands and skateboard parks in Slovotia, and he gets a standing ovation as the mayor awards him the key to the city.

The girls are so proud of their dad, and he is just as proud of them. Just then, King Vladimyr and Queen Anastasia themselves make a live appearance, apparently having flown all the way from Slovotia (it’s never explained how they got there so fast). They thank the girls for helping their son, and award their father their kingdom’s highest honor. They even offer him a job as Dolf’s second in command, but he declines, saying he’d rather remain at his humble career and raise his family in the states.

The girls encourage Nico to tell his father how he feels. He knows he will be king someday, but that is very far off, and he would like some time to just be a kid instead of a prince all the time. The King decrees that Nico may stay in the United States and have a normal high school experience, “you are to be having twelve bodyguards instead of twenty now, good compromise, yes?” The girls roll their eyes and laugh; Nico’s dad still has a lot to learn!

Nico tells the girls that they are “very cold” (he meant “cool,” but it’s the thought that counts) He and Mary Kate kiss, and Ashley jokingly asks if he has a brother. As it turns out, there’s a nerdy kid at school who is played by the same actor as Nico who’s had a crush on her for years, so she gets with him instead (once he takes off his glasses)

Freeze frame

THE END

Roll credits

80 minute run time

Return the tape to Blockbuster and never watch it again

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turntechgodoka · 7 years

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Whoop, I guess it's April 13th and I already posted my new fic stuff on Sunday. I was hoping to get a couple one-shots done or something, but I've spent the last couple weeks helping a friend prep/recover from surgery and said friend is my primary brainstorming partner t'boot. It's surprisingly difficult to brainstorm with someone who just got out of surgery! I'm like, "yo, should I have John do this thing or that thing?" and they're like "zzzzzzzzzz snore snore just fifteen more hours of sleep first..."

Hmm, so. How about I share one of the relatively polished scenes I've got cooking for Constants & Variables Act 4? (PS: someone stop me from sub-titling this act "R.O.D.: Retcon Or Die." My beta reader is doing the opposite of discouraging this nonsense! Bad beta reader!) CW for violence and a small bit of blood.

* * *

Despite what Auto-Responder and Jake and probably everyone else who knew him assumed, Dirk didn't relish the opportunity to kick his glitchy descendant's ass. If he'd actually found that shit enjoyable, he wouldn't have been so hesitant to take the kid on as a protege.

He doubted anyone would actually believe it, but it was what it was: sending Daveglitch flying across the block was just fucking depressing, not satisfying.

"Stop jumping in on the easy openings, Glitch," Dirk said, lowering his katana without lowering the rest of his guard. "If it's obvious to you, it's sure as hell obvious to me and I'll see you coming five miles away."

Daveglitch climbed back to his feet, taking a deep breath as he steadied himself. "Got it." Under the glitch's influence, the kid was unstoppable, an opponent that even Dirk struggled to match. Without it, he crumbled before Dirk even broke a sweat.

"How exactly do you expect to help the lad by kicking his caboose time and again?" Jake called from the sidelines. He leaned back against the wall and kept his arms crossed as he watched the strifes.

"It's called the 'drop them in the deep end until they swim' method," Dirk said, sliding into an offensive stance and waiting for the perfect opportunity to spring.

All told, for as easy as it was to bat Daveglitch around on a counterattack, it was hard to get the drop on the kid the rest of the time. Daveglitch was faster than Dirk when he wanted to be and he had uncanny observational skills borne from glitch-lent senses.

Still, better to exhaust every angle while in a controlled setting than risk the kid discovering an otherwise unknown weakness while in the heat of a real life-or-death battle.

Dirk shot forward in a flashstep and Daveglitch responded in kind. Their swords clashed in a deafening blow, the echos drowned out by continued strikes. Daveglitch stabbed, Dirk blocked and slid in to land a kick, Daveglitch spun out of reach and slashed at Dirk's back, Dirk ducked and slashed at Daveglitch's legs, Daveglitch jumped over Dirk's blade... Dirk's main goal was to provide a new line of attack as often as possible, changing shit up to push Daveglitch's limits until repetition could take him off-guard again and then Dirk would push him hard the other direction until there were no more damn limits to push.

The main difference between the kid and the glitch's ability in a fight was confidence, and the relative lack thereof. Daveglitch hesitated. He faltered. He questioned himself. The glitch, when it acted alone, didn't have time for such emotional weaknesses, just like the Auto-Responder. Computers were fast. When built right, they had the capacity for perfection, at least when it came to executing tasks.

No organic lifeform could hope to match those levels, not even a kid who'd played host to a digital ghost.

Which was why Dirk didn't have room to go easy on the kid. If Daveglitch was going to survive an encounter with another version of that glitchy asshole from some doomed timeline, he had to be as close to fucking perfect as it got. With any luck, he wouldn't have to trash his flesh identity to do so.

Dirk caught Daveglitch's wrist and threw him into the wall. Daveglitch remained silent, but the wall made a pretty loud thud.

"Stop going for the predictable hits, Glitch," Dirk said, keeping his sword raised in case Daveglitch got a second wind right away.

"Dirk!" Jake snapped, stomping into the ring and over to check on Daveglitch. "That's too rough!"

Dirk shrugged, but he did lower his weapon. God, he didn't want to flip back to black with Jake, not on top of everything else going down. "He can take it."

Jake glared over his shoulder at him. "That doesn't mean he fucking should!" he said. He knelt to check on Daveglitch and caught his shoulder, gently rubbing it. "You okay, lad? You didn't hit your noggin, did you?" he said, his tone softening.

"I'm cool," Daveglitch said even as he winced. He struggled to climb back to his feet and Jake slipped an arm around his middle to help steady him. "This shit is exactly what I asked for. You don't need to go to bat for me."

"I'm sure you have a lot of moxie, but I think a breather is in order regardless. Don't you, Dirk?" Jake said, shooting Dirk a Look that communicated plain as day that he'd be sleeping alone for a perigee if he didn't relent.

Dirk held back a sigh as he put his katana away. "Yeah, take a break, Glitch. Save straining yourself for when you're in the field," he said, because even if he had to back down, he was at least going to shove in a reminder that Daveglitch's real opponents wouldn't go so easy on him.

Jake rolled his eyes. All those fucking sweeps and he finally grew a backbone. Dirk equally admired and hated him for it -- God knew Jake needed to learn to stand up for himself, but he could have chosen some better hills to die on.

Daveglitch hesitated, still gripping his sword. "I'm not down for the count yet."

"Now, now. Dirk's given the order, so just sit your tush down and take a well-earned break," Jake said, coaxing Daveglitch back to the floor. They sat crosslegged together, Jake ruffling his hair and talking about the newest movie he discovered from the humans' libraries while Daveglitch. The actual Dave would have interrupted a few times, but the glitched up version must have grown used to listening quietly for the five hundred sweeps he and Jake were both captives.

"How is it going?"

Dirk did not jump. That was a thing way too uncool for a Strider to partake in. His head may have turned a little faster than usual, but there was only so much even a dude as awesome as himself could do when some limeblooded pupa literally goddamn teleported next to him with no fucking warning.

Jade just smiled, giving no commentary on his less-than-stoic greeting.

He grunted. "Your matesprit's a slow learner," he said.

"Aww, I am sure he is trying his best! Maybe you could try new approaches?" She clapped her hands together. "Everybody learns best in different ways, you know!"

"Then he could have picked a different teacher instead of coming to me," Dirk said flatly.

TT2: What's wrong, Dirk? Can't adapt to challenging circumstances? TT: Shut up, AR. TT: "Teacher" isn't exactly on my business card. If he doesn't like my unprofessional teaching methods, he can find someone else who actually specializes in it. TT2: Oh, but you're all about manipulating people into doing what you want. TT2: Sorry, I mean manipulating them until they reach their top potential. (And do what you want.) TT: I'll uninstall you. TT2: Yeah, haven't heard that before. TT2: brb, cowering in fear of another empty threat.

Daveglitch's demeanor changed the instant he caught sight of Jade, his drooping indifference dropped in favor of perking up like a lost pupa who just spotted his first sign of home. He scrambled to his feet and hurried over to meet her, Jake following after more casually with a sly smile.

"Hi, TG!" Jade said with a smile so bright that it could probably cause blindness if stared at directly. "How's the training going?"

"Well, you know, we're getting shit done and learning all kinds of mad awesome skills here," Daveglitch said, catching her hands when she offered them to him. "Can I kiss you?" he murmured, almost out of earshot of Dirk.

Jade giggled. "Yeeees, silly," she said, hopping onto her toes and giving him a quick peck on the lips.

It was so fucking chaste compared to the PDAs that Dave partook in with his human matesprit. It was, if Dirk dared admit it, almost fucking cute in all its innocence.

Dirk caught Jake's hand and held it tightly. Jake gave Dirk a questioning look before squeezing back.

"I'm sorry," Dirk whispered.

"Let's skip that old song and dance today," Jake whispered back.

"So what have you guys been teaching TG anyway?" Jade asked, her eyes lit with curiosity.

Dirk cleared his throat. "We've been sparring."

"Dirk was, ah..." Jake said, stumbling on his words even as he spoke quickly. "Dirk was finding his feet with this whole teaching hullabaloo, but I'm sure he's getting the hang of it." He grinned up at Dirk and swung his arm. "Eh, old chap?"

Dirk nodded and averted his gaze. "We'll be slowing down for a while. Making sure the kid can keep up."

"I could keep up just fucking fine," Daveglitch grumbled with a foolish stubbornness Dirk related to, just a touch.

"Well, it's easier for lessons to sink into your sponge if you take them at a steady pace!" Jade said with a smile, leaning against Daveglitch's shoulder. "Can I train with you guys too?"

Daveglitch's eyes widened. "What, for real?"

"With the Striders?" Jake asked, just as surprised. "Jade, you don't use swordkind."

She shook her head. "Nooo, but I'm high enough level that I can diversify my specibus deck!" she said, holding up her deck. "It's a good idea to round out my skills with an option for close combat, right? Besides, it sounds like fun."

Dirk shrugged. "Doesn't hurt or even waste my time, seeing as I'm already training one of you either way," he said. Maybe he'd stay grounded better with her around. "Anyway, she's got a point. The art of sword fighting is a useful skill to possess, especially for an otherwise long-ranged specialist."

She beamed. "Thanks, Mr. Strider!"

He snorted. Jegus Crust, these kids were always finding new ways to surprise him with unnecessary formality. At least she wasn't calling him Mr. Signless anymore. "Dirk's still fine, Li'l Harley. Go pick a weapon and we'll get this show on the road."

"Okay, Dirk," she said. She beckoned to Daveglitch before running over to the assortment of swords Dirk had set up.

"Don't get too rough with my descendant, eh?" Jake said, shooting Dirk a smirk as Jade tested the weight of the swords and showed each one off to Daveglitch. Whatever she picked, Dirk would probably have to correct her later, but he'd let her make that mistake, for now.

"I wouldn't fucking dare." Dirk returned the smirk. "She'd probably shoot me again."

Jake lightly elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't even remind me of that. I think witnessing that took ten years off my lifespan, immortal or not."

"What, you mean you still care, Harley?" Dirk asked, leaning his shoulder against Jake's.

Jake's cheeks turned a light shade of green as he leaned back. "Yes, you big lug, I still give one or two shits about my closest bosom friend."

Dirk laughed, only half bothering to try hiding it. "You call me your what?"

"Oh, shut your trap, Strider," Jake said, but he was still grinning. "Your jabber has its own kooky jargon to it."

"Sorry my dope lingo is too kooky for you, dog."

Jake snorted and made to grab at Dirk's nose, as if he was quick enough to ever get the drop on Dirk. At least Jane had a chance in hell, since she knew to throw her (metaphorical) punches when Dirk was least expecting them, but here Jake wanted to rough house with full warning.

Dirk ducked under Jake's arm and slid in close to him so that their chests were practically pressed together, then he swept Jake's leg out from under him. He caught Jake under his back, but only after he'd fallen a couple of inches and his feet had gone splaying. Dirk smirked and pulled him into a kiss, not minding even an iota when Jake nipped at his lips.

Maybe vacillating a little pitched wasn't so bad.

"TG, don't stare!" Jade whispered.

Oh. Right. The audience.

Dirk made no hurry to break away or show any other sign of embarrassment. He let his mouth linger by Jake's ear long enough to murmur, "Stop by my block later," before he pulled Jake back onto his feet.

Jake pressed his knuckles to his mouth and cleared his throat, as if he could ward off the blush covering his face with a loud enough noise. "Yes. Well then," he said, firmly patting Dirk's shoulder. "I'll, uh. I'll just leave you to it, since you seem to have gotten the hang of it. I should... check on my moirail."

"Right on, bro," Dirk said as Jake scurried for the door. Was it the audience made up of their descendants that got to him, or that they were too flushed for that level of shameless PDA? Ah well. Dirk rested a hand on his hip. "You kids ready?"

Jade quickly stood at attention, a blush the same color as Jake's still resting on her cheeks. "Yes sir!" she said.

Dirk nodded. "Glitch, go wait for me to initiate another strife while I get Jade set up here."

"On it," Daveglitch said as he returned to the center of the block, though he glanced over his shoulder at them.

Dirk picked up one of the swords and passed it over to Jade. "This one," he said. "The one you picked is too long for you. Hey, don't sweat it," he added when she looked disappointed. "We all make rookie mistakes early on. You should have seen the first piece of shit I fought with. It's a small miracle it didn't snap under pressure."

She giggled. "That is hard to imagine!" she said, placing both of her hands around the sword hilt and holding it up.

"Oh, yeah, believe it or not, I was a noob once too, a couple thousand sweeps ago." He slid behind her and set his hands on her arms, guiding her to an ideal starting pose. "My posture was shit, my stance was sloppy, and I barely even understood what the word 'balance' fucking meant." He nudged her feet with the toe of his shoe until she got the idea and widened her stance. "I was, I dunno, two sweeps old?"

She broke into laughter. "Yooou are still pretty arrogant, you know!"

He smirked. "Oh, I am arrogant as shit, but at least I can make people laugh about it sometimes." He caught her hands and gently guided her fingers into a better grip. "Here, careful not to put too much strain on your wrists," he said.

Jade nodded, following along without any complaint. "It is true, Striders are pretty funny guys, even if you also take yourselves a little too seriously," she said, shooting him a wry smile. Once she had the right pose, she held it well, but he wouldn't have expected less from a highly skilled fighter whose greatest weakness was training in the wrong weaponry.

"Nah, we don't take ourselves seriously." He released his grip and stepped around to survey her from a distance. Daveglitch also watched their progress, though Dirk ignored him for the time being. They'd get back to work in a moment. "That's just an ironic act. We really don't give a shit about anything."

"I do not think I believe you," she said, her eyes following him even as she kept her stance. Yeah, given practice, she could unleash hell with that blade.

"My moirail doesn't either," Dirk said, stepping beside her and catching her beneath an arm. "I'm gonna show you some basic blocks and strikes now."

She let him guide her arms through a high block, a medium block, a low stab, and a medium slash, just for starters. None of them were particularly impressive moves or even anything remotely resembling the techniques he practiced in an actual fight, but they covered the body movement well enough for beginners.

"All right, try them out without my help," he said, though he didn't have much doubt that she'd do fine on her own. He watched her block once, twice, and begin her stab before he flashstepped away.

He shot behind Daveglitch and swung his katana, bringing it to an abrupt halt when its edge was half an inch from Daveglitch's neck. Only then did Daveglitch raise his weapon, but Dirk flung his arm around him and pinned Daveglitch's arm to his side.

"Too late," Dirk said, gripping Daveglitch's wrist as he rested his blade on Daveglitch's shoulder. "You can't let your guard down when you're in enemy territory, Glitch. If this were real, you'd be dead now." Dirk lowered his voice and murmured directly into Daveglitch's ear, "Tuck that away deep in your think pan and learn from it, because you got a lot of people who want to see you come home safe." He released his hold on Daveglitch and pulled his sword away.

Daveglitch stumbled forward and spun on Dirk, his sword at the ready though his eyes were still wide from the shock.

"You ready for this again, kid?" Dirk asked, lowering into a defensive stance.

Daveglitch caught his breath, keeping his gaze locked on Dirk and his katana. "Hella ready, bro," he said.

Dirk nodded. "Keep practicing those moves, Li'l Harley," he called to Jade, both to assure her that she hadn't been forgotten and to remind her not to waste time gawking at their strife. "I'll give you some new ones so you can change it up in a bit, but you want this stuff wired into your muscle memory until they come to you as easily as walking."

"Will do!" she called. He'd have liked to have turned his head long enough to make sure the event hadn't startled her out of her perfect technique, but what kind of role model would he be for Daveglitch if he let his guard down for even a second?

Daveglitch inched to the side, always facing Dirk and keeping his sword raised. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

God dammit. Dirk had wanted to start going easy on the brat, but how the hell could he overlook a mistake that blatant? It wouldn't do anyone any good to let Daveglitch get away with that. Dirk charged, ready to hold his blade back at the last inch again.

Daveglitch's eyes snapped open and he blocked Dirk's attack with a shockingly sudden twist of the arm. He'd wiped the surprise and uncertainty from his expression, replacing it with a perfect poker face that might as well have been a mask for as little as it allowed even a wince.

Dirk smirked. That was more like it. He weaved away from Daveglitch's counterattack, slipping in to try a new strike. It was only a little frustrating that Daveglitch blocked it again, compared to the satisfaction that the kid was actually learning a thing or two.

They traded blows back and forth, remaining in a near constant state of flashstepping in order to keep up with each other. Daveglitch wasn't having much luck at driving Dirk back, but he wasn't letting his guard down. Dirk would have been happy to call the lesson accomplished with only that, until Daveglitch made for another way too obvious attack.

Dirk adjusted his weapon. In a real battle, he could have sliced Daveglitch in two for such a reckless strike, but as it was, he'd just shove him with an elbow and follow it with another goddamn lecture that was getting too repetitive.

It was a feint. Daveglitch ducked sideways, holding his sword with his non-dominant hand, and struck on Dirk's freshly unprotected opposite side. A sharp pain shot up Dirk's side and he clenched his teeth to prevent crying out as he felt blood leak down his skin and stain his shirt. It wasn't deep, but even papercuts could smart like a motherfucker.

Daveglitch's poker face crashed, replaced by a startled grimace. "Fuck!" he said, yanking his sword away from Dirk. The edge of it dripped in bright red blood.

Jade dropped her sword and hurried over, her eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay?"

Dirk waved her off. "I'm cool. It's just a surface cut." He lifted his hand to show off the wound. It was a fair amount of blood trickling down his shirt, but he'd had worse. "I'll have Jane look at it later."

Daveglitch shuffled back. "S-sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you and shit. Again. Fuck."

"Nah, don't apologize that I failed to stop you." Dirk raised his fist and Daveglitch started back, ready to go on the defense again, before he recognized it wasn't another strife initiation. They bumped fists and Dirk nodded. "You did good work tonight, Glitch."

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