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ladyanaconda · 3 years

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Helluva Dad Vol. 5: Mom

Hey, guys! We'll start getting more info on Striker's wife and Jake's mother from here on out, though they'll mostly be tidbits. It might be a while before we fully learn what happened to her.

*HB*

The next morning, Jake awoke with a throbbing migraine. His body and joints were sore to the point he didn't want to move, but the acidic, bitter taste of vomit sent him on a beeline straight to the bathroom.

"Good, you're awake." His father was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. It's almost like he had been waiting for him.

"D-Dad…?" Jake threw up into the toilet again.

"You feel like shit, right? That's what happens when you drink a little too much."

"D-Drink..? What are you…?" Jake brought a hand to his head. "Ow, my head…"

"You and Moxxie got thrown inside a beer barrel during yesterday's job. Evidently, you two drank too much."

Jake shrank a bit. "Am I in trouble, dad?"

Striker's frown softened. After a moment of silence, he sighed. "Nah, it wasn't really yer fault this time 'round, pup." He watched as Jake threw up for the third time. "'Sides, I think the hangover is punishment enough. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Carefully, Striker undressed Jake and lifted him unto the warm bath he had previously prepared for this moment. Once Jake was fully clean and refreshed, Striker carried him back to his room to dress him in his pajamas and tuck him back in bed.

"Are you going to work, dad?"

"I'm leavin' ya alone in this condition, my boy. I took an absence for the weekend while you recover." Striker ruffled his son's hair. "Chill out, Blitzo and the others can survive without us for a few days."

Jake shivered. "I'm cold." Striker touched his forehead.

"Yer boiling hot, kiddo. You'll need lots of water to make up for the shit yer body is going through right now."

Striker left the room and returned sometime later with a tray, which he placed on the bedside table. Jake glanced sideways to see its contents: A cup of tea with a strong smell and a bowl of soup. Striker picked the cup and held it close to his son's lips.

"Drink." Jake took a small sip. His face scrunched up at the bitter taste.

"What's this?" He asked, sticking out his tongue.

"Ginger root tea. It ain't tasty, but it's good for hangovers."

It took Jake a considerable amount of willpower to actually drink the whole thing, forcing himself to swallow the bitter beverage despite the urge to spit it back into the cup. It left an awful bitter taste in his mouth, but his stomach had settled down somewhat and he wasn't as thirsty anymore. The soup, a plain and simple chicken broth, was more enjoyable. Jake couldn't help but feel like a baby, though. Dad would even tease him with the 'little plane' as he carefully gave him spoonfuls of soup.

"How're ya feelin', kiddo?" Striker once he was done with the meal.

"Tired and sore, but at least I'm not nauseous anymore."

Striker spent all morning dabbing Jake's forehead with a humid cloth to break the fever. Jake felt a little better by midday, though his head and body still ached. He didn't want to be stuck in bed all day, though.

"Dad, I'm bored," he complained.

"What are you complainin' about, boy? I'm doing all the work here." Striker said simply.

"Do I have to stay in bed all day? What if I want to pee?"

"Don't exaggerate, yer not disabled. But if you want to get better soon, you need to rest."

Jake shifted under the covers. "How long do hangovers last?"

"A day or so, dependin' on how much alcohol you consume and your age. In yer case, you should be as good as new by tomorrow if you rest properly."

With no other choice, Jake closed his eyes and did his best to fall asleep. Surprisingly, he managed to drift off after twenty minutes, in part because he was tired.

With Jake asleep for the time being, Striker took some time to himself and to do the chores around the house. The first thing he did was go to the closet near the doorway and open it; Blitzo, tied up and gagged, dropped out. The piece of cloth used to silence him slipped off his mouth.

"Come on, Striker! You didn't have to put me in there!" he protested.

"What did ya expect when I caught you about to sneak into my kid's room at three A.M. like a pedophile?" Striker murmured as he cut him free.

"I wasn't going to miss Jakey's first hangover! You only get to witness those moments once, you know."

"I'd thank you if you kept yer volume down, Jake is sleepin'."

Blitzo slipped a few envelopes from his pocket. "Oh, by the way, you got mail. Why didn't you tell me you got job offers? I.M.P. could get more clients!"

"Really? Now yer goin' to check my mail too?" Striker snatched all the envelopes from Blitzo's hands before he could pry any further. "Good thing I don't have a diary or you'd read it."

"Can you make one? Moxxie's diary is boring me and Loonie hid hers where I can't find it." Blitzo seemed to remember something. "If you'll excuse me, I have to change the bird's water!"

Striker didn't dignify Blitzo with a reply and instead focused on checking his mail. A few killing job offers, this month's light, and water fees, and… His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the seal on the envelope. Striker set the other envelopes aside for the time being and opened that letter.

"Ah, that's so much better!" Blitzo stepped out of the visitor's bathroom, a small piece of toilet paper stuck to his foot. "Maybe I shouldn't drink that much lemonade next time…" He trailed off when he noticed Striker's expression had darkened. "Strike? Are you okay?"

"I need to go out. Keep an eye on Jake while I'm gone."

Striker didn't give Blitzo an explanation or time to protest as he picked up his jacket and hat and walked out the door, whistling for Bombproof to come for him. Wordlessly, he climbed unto the saddle, clicked his tongue, and rode away in a quick canter.

*HB*

Jake woke up to a purring sound right above him. Shifting a bit under the covers, he opened his eyes and found none other than Blitzo's face inches away from his.

"Hi, Blitz." the impling said simply.

"Any interesting dreams?"

"Not really. Where's dad?"

"He had to go out for some errand and asked me to look after you while he's gone. We're going to have so much fun!" Blitzo rubbed his hands together. "Do you have any horse movies?"

Jake sat up. "Running Free and Black Beauty."

"Which version?"

"1994."

Blitzo's eyes lit up. "I love that one! Let's watch it!" Jake didn't quite understand why Blitzo was so obsessed with horses, but he didn't really mind. He, too, loved horses ever since he could remember. From what dad said, he'd learned how to ride before he could even walk.

Jake felt more alert and less sore, so he could walk downstairs to the living room. Blitzo made some popcorn and they spent the next hour and a half watching Black Beauty. Blitzo cried a couple of times whenever a horse got hurt, but he completely lost it when Beauty saw Ginger's dead body being carried away.

"Why, Ginger?! Whyyy?!"

"Have you read the novel? It's got more content that wasn't put in the film." Jake pointed out.

"Black Beauty is a novel?"

"No way, you didn't know?!"

"Jakey, the only things I read are Moxxie's diary and the Hellquine magazine."

Time went by. Blitzo sniffed around the house until he came across an old photo album. To Jake's chagrin, it contained baby pictures of him.

"Aww, you were so cute! Who would have thought your old man could take decent photos? Oh, look, you're with Striker and Bombproof on this one!" Jake groaned, trying in vain to hide in the cushions. "Oh, shit, what a big dick you had!"

"Okay, that's enough humiliation for a day!"

Jake tried to pull the album away from Blitzo, cheeks red. They fought over the album until something slipped out and fell down to the floor. Blitzo picked it up.

"Hey, this one wasn't in any of the pages." Blitzo couldn't contain a wolf-whistle. "What a lovely lady!"

Curious, Jake leaned in to take a look at the photo: a tall woman with dark red skin and gold-green eyes sat on top of a fence, running a hand through her long black hair as it was blown back by the wind.

"Is this your mommy, Jakey?"

Jake pondered on it, eyes fixed on the photograph. He's never seen that woman before, be it in a photo or in person. He looked through the album but found no more pictures of the woman. If this was his mother, why are there no signs of her anywhere?

The door swung open at that moment. "Blitz, I'm home."

"Hey, Strike, who's this pretty lady?"

Jake felt a shiver down his spine as he saw his father stop in his tracks, face pale. He knew what was coming. The shock became anger. But it wasn't like those other times dad had grown mad at Blitzo; this time, there was a darkness in his eyes as he stomped towards Blitzo, tail rattling, and wordlessly snatched the photo from his grasp.

"Where did you find it?!" he shouted, making Blitzo realize he had unintentionally reopened an old wound.

"It slipped from that album…" he stuttered, pointing at the forgotten tome.

"Why can't you keep yer bloody nose away from my privacy, Blitzo?!"

"D-Dad, calm down, he didn't mean to-!"

"Stay out of this, boy!" Striker hissed, startling Jake into stepping back.

"Whoa, whoa, there's no need to yell at Jakey! It's me you're pissed at, remember?"

Striker clenched his fists. "Get out."

"Wait, what?"

"Get yer shitty ass out of my house!" Striker didn't even wait for Blitzo to reply; he simply pushed him towards and shoved him out of the door, slamming it shut; Striker panted heavily for breath as he leaned against it.

"Dad, that was uncalled for!" Jake quickly regretted having spoken when his father shot him a frown. The rings around his pupils were thick, another sign that he was pissed.

"How many times have I told you not to look through my things without permission?!" he growled.

"I was curious, dad…!"

"That's no excuse, boy! You wouldn't like me to go look into your own stuff, would you?!"

"B-But dad…"

"I don't want to hear it, boy." Striker pointed to the stairs. "Go to your room, I don't want to see you for the rest of the night!"

Jake was close to tears now. "Daddy…"

"NOW!"

Jake didn't dare to talk back to his father this time. He ran up the stairs and into his room, tears in his eyes. The impling climbed into his bed, hid under the blankets and cried himself to sleep.

*HB*

He hadn't meant to yell at Jake. It's not him he's mad at, but… Seeing her photo in Blitzo's grasp and hearing him ask so casually as if he'd done nothing wrong really pissed him off... That, plus the rather unpleasant encounter from earlier… Great, now he'd have to apologize to Blitz when things calm down.

Striker couldn't sleep that night. There were too many things on his head, and he had to think of what he'd do now that Jake had seen the photo. There's no way he can weasel out of it now, the boy was too smart for that. And deep down, Striker wanted to tell his son about the wonderful woman who was his mother, the woman that he'd…

Striker closed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to push the painful memory away.

He waited until the next morning until he was certain he had calm down to go upstairs to his son's room with a jam and peanut butter sandwich, Jake's favorite treat. Striker tentatively knocked on the door.

"Jake?"

There was no reply. Slowly, he opened the door and walked in. Jake was still on his bed, hidden under the covers. He had seen him shifting just before he peeked in, so he knew he wasn't really sleeping, but it was evident that Jake didn't want to talk to him either. Striker sat down on the edge of his son's bed, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I… I brought you a sandwich in case you were hungry." He was met with silence again. "I know you're not really sleepin', kiddo." His suspicions were confirmed when Jake opened his eyes, but his back was still turned and he still did not speak. Sighing, Striker placed the place on the bedside table and ran a hand through his white locks. "Jake, I… I'm sorry for yellin' at you. I had a… complicated day and seein' that photo in Blitzo's grasp reopened an old wound, so I… I took it out on you."

"Who's that woman?" Jake asked curtly. Striker took a deep breath.

"...Her name was Jane. She's your mother."

Jake sat up on the bed this time. "That's mom?"

"Yes…" Striker slipped the photo out of his pocket, smiling forlornly as he stared at it. "She was a wild-spirited, passionate woman, my killin' partner, and the love of my life. We'd travel and take killin' jobs throughout the seven rings together."

Jake stared at the photo. The question that had been bugging him since Millie brought up the topic on Loo Loo Land left his lips. "What happened to her?"

Striker's smile vanished. That's the one, inevitable question that he didn't want to answer. But he had to tell him something, anything.

"...She got ill and passed away shortly after you were born," he told Jake. It's a half-truth, close enough to what actually caused her death. "You were just a baby, so it's normal for you to not remember her." Jake looked like he'd cry again at any moment now. Striker smiled sadly and wiped a lone tear trickling down his cheek. "But she left me the greatest gift she could give me: you, son."

Jake sniffled and threw himself into his father's embrace. "I wish I could have met her."

"She'd be proud of her little man, no doubt. You remind me of her quite a lot, my boy."

"Really?"

"You have her same spirit, the same fire in yer eyes, her determination." Striker smirked. "And her knack at gettin' in trouble, I may add."

"Hey!"

Striker laughed and pulled his son closer to playfully ruffle his hair. Sadly, the sweet moment was brought to an end as he caught a pair of yellow eyes peering through the window. With an annoyed grunt, Striker went to the window and tapped loudly on it, startling Blitzo into losing his balance and falling back with the stair.

*HB*

Blitzo should have started a stalking company, since he's so good at it XD-

Before I forget, I'd like to let you know that Helluva Dad has a TV tropes page now! Yaaay!

#helluva boss #helluva boss fanfiction #helluva dad au #helluva au #striker helluva boss #helluva boss striker #helluva blitzo #helluva dad

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maple-writes · 4 years

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WHG 14: Behind the Scenes (Ginger)

whg tag list: @ratracechronicler @concealeddarkness13 (Thanks for Triel!!), @nightskywriter , @rhikasa , @the-moving-finger-writes , @aeslin-writes @knmartinshouldbewriting , @pen-of-roses @timefirewrites

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The college had been quiet, muted, since the reaping. Not many of the regular students would have known Asher yet, but at this point much of the faculty did and he would have started working along teaching staff the next coming semester. No one really seemed to want to say very much about it, but I could feel the way they looked at me, when we spoke of everyday business and they walked a line between ignoring the obvious and trying to express their sympathies. I’d overheard students talking too, about Cirrus. He’d only been working at the campus convenience store for a few months, but now that he was gone… It was hard not to notice the absence of the seemingly unfriendly and blunt cashier who would sometimes cover the cost of their cheap coffee when they looked like they were having a particularly rough time. Not to mention how now, whenever Millie took his place she didn’t smile anymore.

Charlotte’s office was open, the door ajar, but still I gave a couple knocks before poking my head in. She looked up from her desktop computer, surprise crossing her face as I slipped inside and closed the door.

“Ginger,” She greeted me as I pulled over a spare chair to sit in front of her desk. “I wasn’t expecting you, what’s going on?”

I crossed one leg over the over and leaned forward in my chair. Best to just get straight to the point. “I’m thinking of attempting to rescue Asher and Cirrus.”

Charlotte tensed, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed tight. “What? Ginger I don’t think that’s possible. I know how hard this must be for you, but I don’t know about this.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair, exhausted. “Why don’t you take some time off? You can have my cabin for a week or two if you like.”

She looked like she could use it more, but I stored that away for later. “Hear me out. There’s rumour I’m not the only one who wants to snag tributes from the games. Remember the games a year or two ago, how there were rumours of something going on behind the scenes?”

I paused, but Charlotte seemed confused. Maybe she didn’t remember, or maybe those rumours weren’t as widespread as I thought.

“Well,” I continued. “Some people think there was a successful escape, and some tributes who are officially dead were among the escapees.” If it were true, it was genius really. How would the Capitol explain if they were to start searching to people who they’d told everyone died in the games? “So what I’m saying, is that it’s not an impossible feat.”

Charlotte paused, thinking. Then she shook her head. “That’s a lot to bet on rumour.”

I rested my cheek on a propped-up hand. “Oh absolutely. One hundred percent.” I smiled, wide enough the points of my fangs just barely showed under pink lipstick. “Which is why I’ve set up a meeting with someone who claims to be attempting to pull it off again. I’ll ask some questions, get a sense of legitimacy, and we’ll see how it goes.”

“I’m not so sure about this…”

“Oh, I’m not asking permission. I just wanted you to know what was going on and why I might be gone for a little while.” I shifted, crossing my legs the other way with a wave of my hand. “After all the work we’ve done with him, after all he’s been through, doesn’t it seem like injustice to let him go without a challenge?”

She sighed, closing her eyes and massaging at the side of head. I didn’t expect she would like the idea, and I’d almost decided against telling her anything at all, but she deserved to know.

Something clunked in the corner as her office printer whirred to life. Charlotte turned in her chair, watching as it spat out a single piece of paper. She plucked it from the tray, read it, then slid it across her desk to me.

Ginger’s right. Besides, I liked having him around.

Warmth brushed across my arm like a summer breeze, barely noticeable if I didn’t know what it meant as Cynthia settled in beside the wall. The founder’s late daughter had seemed to have taken a shine to him ever since his enrollment.

“Thanks you Cynthia.” I grinned at Charlotte. “Looks like even if you did have a say you’re outnumbered anyway.

“There’s no way I can change your mind, is there?” Charlotte gave a reluctant smile. “I wish you luck, you’re going to need it.”

This had to be the right place, a small, quiet bar mostly out of the way from too many eyes. At this time of day there didn’t seem to be too much traffic. I paused in the foyer, searching until I found a woman with a large hat and long coat seated at the bar. She looked to be well past a drink or two. She had to be my contact.

I shouldered my purse and made my way towards her. “Are you Triel, by any chance?”

She turned with a wide grin and a tip of her hat. “The one and only. Have a seat. Drink’s on me.”

How sweet. I smiled and took one of the stools beside her. “Thank you for the offer but I’ll just steal one of your empty glasses if that’s alright.” I set my purse down and dug out my pink leopard print bottle. “Not that I don’t trust you, it’s just been a long time since I’ve been able to handle this stuff.”

“What ever works for you.” Triel shrugged. “So, you wanted o discuss a proposition you had?”

I smiled. “Wonderful.” I slid her glass towards me and filled it about halfway with chilled blood. Maybe it would be best to keep things vague for now, just in case. “I hear there’s plans to do something interesting, so to speak, during the games this year, is this true?”

Triel tipped her hat down like a drawn curtain over her face. “I want to get as many tributes as I can out of the arena. I have an airship and a genius engineer who has made machines that keep us invisible to the eye and to the Capitol’s radars. You want in?”

“Wow, you really are prepared!” Thank goodness. If this had been a dead end, it would be over. I took a drink and nodded. “I’m in if you’ll take me. What do you still need?”

For a moment, Triel only watched, looking me up and down. “An alibi. A way to make a clean escape. Even if we avoid all of the Capitol’s eyes, they’ll know if was us pretty quickly. It’s too big of a heist to hide well. At least, unless we have something that proves we weren’t there. Do you know of anything that could help? If not, I won’t reject you from joining. We always need extra hands, especially with the amount of tributes we’ll be rescuing who will probably be injured. It’s a small hope that we’ll make a clean getaway.”

“An alibi eh?” I rested my cheek on my hand. An alibi… “How many heads are we talking about here?”

“Sixteen tributes. Ten people on my crew, not including whoever you’re bringing in with you like I said, a big heist.”

She wasn’t kidding. “I wonder…”I dug through my purse until I found my planner, flipping through to this month. Not a whole lot planned. I flipped back to last month, and my notes from the last faculty meeting. Charlotte had suggested we branch out and be more a part of the community at large. Other departments sometimes put on public lecture series, and she’d once suggested I think of doing something similar.

“What if I hold a seminar or something like that, one that for all intents and purposes you all attended for the entire duration? It could be entry level, maybe even open to non-students, I could label it as public outreach and education.” I closed the notebook and slipped it back into my purse with a smile. “I’m sure I can convince a few old students to attend and back up the claim you all didn’t just arrive for a photo at the end.” Whether or not they knew Asher, at least a few of them could probably be convinced if I could track them down. Luckily for me the students sent my way usually tended to be the, well, unorthodox type to say the least.

Triel smiled back. “That sounds fabulous. I can even lead two of my crew to be there and pretend like we passed notes back and forth the whole time. They’re great at forging writing.” She smirked and leaned back, downing the rest of her drink in one go. “Even though it will be unfortunate I can’t attend your lecture, since you’re so cute.” She held out a hand. “I think this proposition will work.”

I shook her hand with a grin. So she was clever and charming. This plot was in good hands. “Maybe I’ll record it then, just for you.”

She laughed, holding her empty glass in a toast. “A capital idea.” She smiled, as if to her own joke. “We can work out the details in a more private setting. I am happy for you to join this heist.”

Good, I was in. After a brief goodbye, I slipped out back into the quiet street. Should I tell Charlotte? No, the less she knew the better. If she knew what I was up to, and somehow word got to Striker who knew if she’d be able to keep him from trying to track me down. He had far more to lose than I did and I intended to keep him in the dark as long as I could. In fact… I found my phone and pulled up his contact info. I could memorize it by morning, and then delete his number, anything I could think of. I should probably get rid of Charlottes information too. It could always be replaced.

#whg 13 #writeblr hunger games #ginger #tumblr flagging my canadian spelling of rumour as incorrect lol

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real-life-pine-tree · 5 years

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Into the Arcverse: An Assembly of Celebrities (3/?)

Yuan Amaya just wanted to hide away from public eye, but fate had other plans. Based on Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse.

Hello, Vagabond. I heard about your legendary coding skills. I wish to meet up with you tonight to discuss them and how they can benefit my personal goals. -Striker

Inside what appears to be a truck, a young man was busy typing on a computer when he received the message. The computer had a total of six screens; one had an open window containing several files, a few were all connected to varying databases, and the rest had an assortment of files scattered all over the desktop screens, with one having the message from Striker opened up. As he finished reading this short yet urgent letter, he couldn’t believe who signed it. He had heard rumors and reports about how famous this Celebrity Duelist has become, but why him specifically? He placed his fair-skinned left hand over his chin—which had a dark violet goatee—to think. There was no doubt that Striker’s personal goals involved Sol Technologies’ supposed coverup based on those rumors and J.W. Frog’s morning news report. Speaking of which, Ghost Gal made a call to discuss this latest activity going on in Link V.R.A.I.N.S., so why couldn’t he converse with her and get himself some allies from CyberTech Sector? Regardless, this meeting was too good of an opportunity to pass up and he had to meet him as fast as possible.

But before he could respond, his phone unexpectedly rang. After a bit of alarm from the sudden noise, he answered it. "Hey, you've reached Café Nom," he said. "This is Cal Kolter, the one and only chef and founder. What would you like to order?"

"Have you received my message?" a heavily-filtered voice asked.

Cal paused, realizing who called. "So you're Striker," he assumed.

"Correct," the voice confirmed. "Greetings, Mr. Vagabond. It is nice to finally contact you. Now then, about my personal goals..."

"I know what you've been doing," Cal said. "Every night you're uncovering some cover-up information about Sol Technologies. It was even talked about on the news this morning."

"Do not listen to that amphibian," Striker dismissed, referring to J.W. Frog. "His information about me is false. What I am doing is for the good of all who use Link V.R.A.I.N.S., especially a few specific individuals."

"So why drag me into it?" Cal wondered. "You're already a skilled hacker. Why would you need a coder?"

"I was able to uncover the names of five individuals who were scarred because of something that occurred ten years ago," Striker explained. "So tell me, Mr. Vagabond... Does the name Jin Kolter ring a bell?"

A small gasp slipped out from Cal's mouth and he felt a short yet sharp thumping noise from his chest, indicating his heart has skipped a beat. How did he discover that Jin was indeed one of the victims? He has heard of how much of a skilled hacker Striker is, but he didn't expect his skills to be that impressive. Sneaking through potentially classified information from Sol Technologies in the middle of the night and finding proof of this alleged cover-up being true through five specific names with one of them being Cal's own brother? It's surprisingly miraculous Striker is not wanted by them or anything given his reputation.

More importantly, how did he deduce the two were related? You would think a jump to a conclusion like that would be rather creepy, and while that may be true, Cal was more speechless than creeped out. His gray eyes shifted to a computer screen containing the open window and he briefly scrolled through the files to open one of them up. For a short while, he simply stared at a photo from a decade ago, obviously not long before this incident occurred. It was a simpler time back then; he recalled how happier Jin was before the incident. There was life in his eyes and he would smile as much as Cal. Six months later, that smile and lively personality was gone. Cal had gave up on his sports career and spent the next ten years honing his hacking skills and it all led up to this: assisting a rising Celebrity Duelist in solving this mystery once and for all.

"Is that why you want my help?" Cal asked, now knowing how serious this is.

"It is more than that," Striker answered. "I know you are more than just a coder. You run a dueling archetype known as Codebreakers, a group of cards that can weaken the opponent's monsters through slight placement and subtle trickery. While you are not like typical Celebrity Duelists, your reputation exceeds you. Therefore, I must ask you to assist me in fighting a group of enemy duelists who are connected to the Sol Technologies cover-up."

"And if I refuse?" Cal asked.

"I am telling you this because I know you will not refuse," Striker revealed. "You will give your own life to help your brother regain his smile. Therefore, I would like you to meet me in Link V.R.A.I.N.S. this evening, along with two other Celebrity Duelists I have already spoken to. But you cannot come alone. I am already aware of your faceless associate. Bring him with you."

"You sure?" Cal asked. "He's not exactly a good duelist."

"Trust me," Striker insisted. "I have heard about his potential to be just as good as you. If we wish to uncover the truth behind the cover-up, we need all the help we can get."

Cal thought about it for a few seconds. "Alright," he decided. "I'm in."

"Excellent decision," Striker replied. "I am sending you the coordinates right now. See you this evening, Mr. Vagabond."

Almost a minute later, a new window popped up on one of the computer screens. Sure enough, it listed the exact coordinates of where Striker wishes to meet up with Cal in Link V.R.A.I.N.S., and without hesitation, his fingers typed on the digital keyboard and downloaded it onto his Duel Disk so that when he logs in, he'll be in the vicinity of their desired location. Once the download was complete, he unplugged the Duel Disk from the USB cord and attached it on his left wrist. But first, he had to call his associate. So he picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number.

A few seconds later, a familiar voice answered. "Cal? What is it?"

"Hey Yuan, I need you to come here after school," Cal explained. "It's about Striker. He contacted me personally."

"...You're kidding," Yuan said after a few seconds of silence.

"It's not a joke," Cal replied. "But that's not all. He wants to see you too. Dunno why, though. You don't go to Link V.R.A.I.N.S. that often."

He was right; Yuan isn't the kind of person who usually goes to Link V.R.A.I.N.S. on a daily basis. But even with his low activity there, it was peculiar that Striker would want to see him, but not as peculiar as Striker knowing who Yuan was in the first place. The latter may be a fan of him, but he doesn't know him personally, so why bother wanting to see him along with Cal? It doesn't make sense.

"How could he know about me?" Yuan wondered. "My avatar is still in default mode and I only go there on the rare occasions to help you out with saving Jin."

"That must be why Striker knows about you," Cal guessed. "Remember when I asked for your help the other day, when I was cornered by these duelists in white robes?"

Realization struck Yuan. "Striker is a skilled hacker," he said. "He probably uncovered archive footage from Link V.R.A.I.N.S.. That's how he found out about me."

"You think so?" Cal asked. "Cuz if that's the case, it makes Striker suspicious."

"Then I better come with you," Yuan decided. "Plus this might be our only chance to see Striker in action. And..." His voice trailed off.

"What is it?" Cal asked.

"I...think we need some added muscle just in case," Yuan continued. "I know someone who could provide that muscle."

Cal quickly realized what that meant. "I know what you're thinking and it's a bad idea," he warned. "I can't risk letting an innocent duelist get hurt."

"Trust me on this one," Yuan insisted. "I know what his deck is like. He'll provide just the strength we need."

Cal was still hesitant on this decision to include him in the mix, but Yuan explained that whenever the two duel in Link V.R.A.I.N.S., their decks balance each other out when it comes to Tag Teams. While the Weather Painters are more oriented in skills, the second deck is composed of Beast-Type monsters that focus on strength, especially with the Link ace monster having a matching ability as the other monsters. Cal won't lie; Yuan did bring up a really good point. Even so, will that be worth it in bringing some extra firepower? Or was it just another risk of some bystander getting harmed? Cal thought about it for a short time before he finally made a decision.

"Alright," Cal decided. "Invite him over, but make sure he doesn't tell anyone about my true identity."

"Thanks," Yuan replied. "We'll come over after Duel Club." And with that, he hung up his phone. "Naoki, can you come with me to Café Nom after club?"

"Hmm?" Naoki muttered. "That hot dog truck in town? Why?"

"I'll explain more afterwards," Yuan answered. "Just trust me on-"

"What are you two talking about?"

The sound of a familiar voice caught the boys off guard, especially Yuan. They both turned their heads to see Hannah, who had curiously walked in on their conversation. "Oh, uh..." Yuan muttered. "Just...stopping by a friend's place afterwards."

"What friend?" Hannah asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Um... Well..." Yuan stammered, but he lost his train of thought.

Some of you may be wondering why he suddenly forgot what he was about to say. The answer is obvious: he was getting distracted by who was standing in front of him. Her ginger hair pushed back by her headband and flowing wavily from the back of head with her light orange side tails reaching past her cheeks, her amethyst irises glistening from the sun's rays beaming through a window and reflecting off her eyes, and her smooth fair skin. Not to mention her overall sweet, kind-hearted personality, as demonstrated from his arrival at the Duel Club to her defending him during his duel. Yuan was close to becoming quiet, his own cheeks becoming flushed with a pink hue. She wasn't doing much to make him act so flustered…other than the fact how cute she was, something he managed to catch on.

"Are you feeling alright?" Hannah asked, sounding concerned.

"...You're cute," Yuan blurred out. He quickly covered his mouth as his face turned crimson.

"Oh!" Hannah said, blushing as well. "Thanks...I guess."

Before things could get any awkward, Naoki took the awkward silence as his cue to step in. "Sorry about my friend," he apologized. "He's not very social like me."

"That's okay," Hannah replied as she smiled. "It's still nice to have another club member. I hope you enjoy your time here, Yuan."

"Oh... Thanks..." Yuan muttered, still blushing.

Some time later, the sun was setting over the horizon as the evening hours approached, signaling the end of the club activities for the day. All over the school campus, students were either putting away the clubs' respective items—whether it's the equipment for sports, the various art supplies for arts and craft, or the instruments for music—reorganizing the desks back to their original positions, which was the case for the Duel Club. Despite the unexpected outcome of Yuan and June's duel, a few more duels were initiated to give the members some practice on their current deck strategies. But with the club coming to an end, just about everyone had finished packing up and already left the club room. Well...everyone except Yuan and Naoki.

"Alright, so we're supposed to head to Café Nom for some reason," Naoki recalled. "Why's that?"

Yuan quickly looked around the club room before locking the door, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop. "What I'm about to tell you is top secret," he said. "Promise me you won't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone about what?" Naoki asked.

"I'm serious!" Yuan insisted. "This is classified information!"

"Okay, geez, I won't tell anyone," Naoki said, raising his hands defensively. "So what's this secret."

Yuan slowly walked closer to Naoki and took a deep breath. "I know who the Vagabond is," he revealed.

Naoki was in stunned silence for a few seconds before snorting a laugh. "You're bluffing," he finally said. "No one knows who the Vagabond is. His profile's so secretive that he even hides his avatar's face from everyone on the net. How could you know who he is?"

"He's a close family friend," Yuan explained. "He's kind of like an uncle to me. And during today's club meeting, he wanted me to help him out with a very specific mission. Luckily I was able to convince him to let you tag along." He held out his hand for a handshake. "So how about it? Is the Brave Battler ready to step up and help me out?"

Naturally, Naoki held his hand and returned the offering handshake while stating he is always ready to help his best friend out. With the decision fully made, the duo departed the building where the Duel Club was and left the school grounds, making their way to Den City's downtown area. It happens to be a common site for citizens to gather and watch any duels or special events taking place in Link V.R.A.I.N.S. thanks to the sixteen gigantic monitor screens of various aspect ratios. Parked in front of those skyscrapers with the screens is Café Nom, a truck serving mainly hotdogs and coffee to its customers.

Inside Café Nom, a fair-skinned man with dark purple hair and goatee was grilling a couple hotdogs, his gray eyes staring down as he used a pair of tongs to cook them evenly. His usual attire was casual as it was comprised of a dark violet hoodie, denim jeans, and burgundy boots; he usually wears a brown trenchcoat over his clothes, but he has it resting on a chair and is currently wearing a white apron while preparing the hotdogs. In the midst of cooking, his eyes glanced up and quickly noticed Yuan and Naoki heading towards the truck to see him.

"Hey Yuan!" the man called out. "About time you got here! I was starting to worry you bailed on me!"

"Relax, I didn't," Yuan reassured once he and Naoki got closer to the truck. "And I brought my friend along like I said."

Naoki looked around. "So where's the Vagabond?" he asked. "Is he meeting us here?"

"Um, Naoki..." Yuan said. He gestured at the man and started whispering. "This is Cal Kolter. He's the Vagabond."

Naoki's eyes shot wide open the instant Yuan finished talking. On top of that, he took a step back, left in shock and awe from the revelation to the point where his voice had enough strength to produce a yelling "WHAAAT?!" He turned his head to face Cal and back at Yuan a few times, his mouth still left agape as he hadn't fully recovered from the reaction to what he just heard.

"Shhhh!" Yuan quickly hushed.

"Sorry..." Naoki apologized.

"I get you're excited, but we'll talk more inside," Cal suggested. "Gotta keep a low profile from unwanted fans."

"I was thinking the same thing," Yuan agreed.

With Yuan leading the way, he and Naoki headed to a pair of doors located on the back of Café Nom. He opened them and the duo hopped into the truck, shutting the doors behind them. He then went over to the attendance window to disconnect the hatch and close it, leading to the sign to automatically retract. Now they would have some privacy to talk to Cal regarding their upcoming mission.

"Alright, here's the deal," Cal explained. "As Yuan already knows, Striker contacted me about a special mission in Link V.R.A.I.N.S.-"

"Whoa, hold there!" Naoki interrupted as he raised his hands defensively. "As in that new Celebrity Duelist goin' around the net?"

"Yeah, that Striker," Cal answered. "He said he's got some info about something that happened ten years ago. Something that happened to my brother."

"Who?" Naoki wondered.

Yuan, on the other hand, knew who his friend was talking about. "He knows about Jin?" he realized.

"That's just one of the names he pulled up," Cal continued. "Striker said there were four other victims, but I never got around to learning about their names. And for some reason, he also asked for Yuan to come along."

"But that's why I wanted to bring you here, Naoki," Yuan added. He lifted up his Duel Disk. "My Weather Painters aren't strong, but your bamboo monsters are."

"Oh, I get it," Naoki realized. He grinned. "No problem. The Brave Battler's got your back!"

"You sure you're up for it?" Cal asked Naoki. "We might end up dueling some pretty strong opponents."

"Pfft, piece of cake!" Naoki bragged. "Besides, this could be my chance to duel alongside my best bud!"

"Okay," Cal said. He strapped on a purple Duel Disk that looked similar to Yuan's. "I'm sending you both the coordinates Striker gave me. Once we're in Link V.R.A.I.N.S., we should arrive at the same spot." He walked over to a pair of doors. "C'mon bud, let's get going."

"Huh?" Naoki muttered. "What're those things?"

"Special login rooms," Yuan explained. "Cal and I need them to log in because our Duel Disks are older models."

"Oh, okay," Naoki replied. "I guess..."

It's honestly weird that Cal and Yuan still use the older Duel Disk models and the login rooms, mostly because Sol Technologies have been improving and updating their Duel Disks to the newer models. Heck, almost everyone owns one, even Naoki, so they could log in without having to use those rooms; not only does it save a bit of time, but also a bit of space, depending on where they were constructed in the vehicle or building.

Regardless of whatever method they use, Naoki and Yuan's Duel Disks had retrieved the designated coordinates, with text appearing that read "COORDINATES RECEIVED" on the older version and an A.I. implanted in the newer build confirming what was sent to Naoki. With everyone ready, the doors shut in front of Cal and Yuan to prepare them for the login sequence. They pulled out their respective desks and inserted them in Disk Zones, followed by the words "INTO THE V.R.A.I.N.S." appearing on the sides where the blades are projected from. Outside the login rooms, Naoki stood in front of the six-screen computer as he simply raised his left arm with his Duel Disk on his wrist and shouted four words, along with Cal and Yuan.

"Link into the V.R.A.I.N.S.!"

While Naoki was instantly transported into the network, the loading time for Cal and Yuan took longer. While inside their login rooms, blue digital orbs surrounded them as their minds were transported into the network. For Cal, his outfit was transformed within a few flashes of light so he wore a black turtle neck, teal pants, red buckled boots, and a dark red coat with a matching cap and a brown belt used to store his deck. As for Yuan, since he never really came up with a proper avatar design, his outfit remained unchanged as his body transformed into the default Link V.R.A.I.N.S. avatar design, which was a white and black faceless robot build.

With their avatars fully loaded, Cal and Yuan caught up with Naoki through the network to log in. Sky blue, holographic pixels materialized at the location Striker informed to meet up, going from the head downward and cloaking them in the same pattern. Once those pixels reached their feet, they dispersed to reveal who they are in Link V.R.A.I.N.S.: the Vagabond and…well, Yuan doesn't have a name for his avatar since it's in default mode, so for now, his name is essentially the same as it is in the real world. Next to them stood Naoki, who goes under the alias Brave Battler; his attire was composed of a tealish-blue, black, and white robotic suit with yellow decals, having a matching mask with a green lens on his head—his green hair had become longer, pointer, and more magenta while his olive green eyes were now blue—and a logo on his chest comprised of a pink "B" on a white hexagonal-like polygon, which was surrounded by a yellow border.

"That's your avatar?" Cal asked, not impressed. "Looks a little..." He tilted his hand to the side. "...flashy."

"Hey, don't underestimate how I look!" Naoki defended. "I wanted to look flash for when I finally appear on camera!"

Yuan remained silent as he crossed his arms. "You okay, Yuan?" Naoki asked. "You're not sayin' anything."

Suddenly, a digital screen materialized in front of Yuan, who proceeded to type something into his Duel Disk. As he did that, words appeared on the screen.

YOU HAVE TO EXCUSE MY SILENCE. I CHOSE TO REMAIN MUTE IN THE NETWORK SINCE MY VOICE CAN BE EASILY RECOGNIZABLE. IT'S TO MAINTAIN A LOW PROFILE FOR CAL SO NO ONE WILL RECOGNIZE ME AS HIS ALLY.

"Whoa... That's a cool way of talking," Naoki complimented.

THANK YOU, MY TRUSTED FRIEND. NOW WE MUST STAY ON GUARD. WE DON'T KNOW HOW MANY DUELISTS STRIKER CONTACTED, OR WHO HE CONTACTED. FOR ALL WE KNOW, WE HAVE UNKNOWINGLY TEAMED UP WITH-

"So you're the infamous Vagabond! 'Bout time you and your buddies got here!"

Yuan, Brave Battler, and the Vagabond all rotated their heads to where the voice was coming from and saw a 19-year-old man walking to where they were. He had tan skin, light blue eyes, a brown chin beard, and a two-toned flattop haircut: blonde with red highlights on top of his head and brown from the forehead down. A greenish-gray jacket is worn over his built body frame and his neck had a separate collar of the same color and a golden animal necklace. His pants were also greenish-gray, but there was a large patch of denim on the front and a belt was shown supporting it, with the strap having the same color as his jacket and gold studs and the gold buckle containing a magenta "G." He wore dark gray boots with a bronze stripe on the front of each boot and golden plates buckled on the toe areas. More gold plates can also be seen on his abdomen and forearms, which extended over his greenish-gray, fingerless gloves, and a gold ring gripped onto his upper left arm. With an appearance like that, it was clear who he was: The Gore, a famous Celebrity Duelist in Link V.R.A.I.N.S..

"Lemme guess... Striker called you here too," the Vagabond assumed.

"'Course he did," The Gore confirmed. "Said he's got some important info 'bout somethin' bad that took place years ago. Dunno what for, but it must be important if he's askin' for my help." He noticed Brave Battler and Yuan. "So what's with the backup?"

IF YOU MUST KNOW, STRIKER ASKED FOR ME TO COME WITH THE VAGABOND. BUT BECAUSE MY DUELING SKILLS ARE NOT AS GOOD AS HIS, I ASKED FOR MY TRUSTED FRIEND, WHO GOES BY THE ALIAS BRAVE BATTLER, TO ACCOMPANY ME.

Brave Battler grinned in response. "That's right!" he confirmed. "We've known each other since preschool!"

Yuan's hand twitched, indicating slight embarrassment. Luckily the Vagabond stepped in. "So who else did Striker contact?" he asked The Gore. "He said he already talked to two other Celebrity Duelists before he reached me."

"Dunno," The Gore admitted with a shrug. "But from what I heard it could be-"

Before he could finish, a small group of stars began to shimmer in the air, something the group quickly noticed. The stars then descended towards the ground, leaving behind the same sky blue pixels as they formed into someone else and unveiled who it was. In front of the four stood a fair-skinned teenager who looked a few years younger than The Gore and looked reminiscent to a magical girl. Her long, blue hair with light blue highlights were tied into pigtails with dark blue ribbons and formed hearts at where they were tied in place. On her face, periwinkle irises glistened from her eyes, and on her right cheek, one would notice a light green clover tattooed on it. Her uniform stayed true to the magical girl trope: dangling earrings shaped like winged pink hearts, dark blue choker, white, sleeveless shirt with pink trims, a blue tie, and stopped just below her breasts, a dress with light blue fabric on the upper half, blue on the lower half, pink trimmings with one shaped like a heart on the front, and wing-shaped frills, dark blue stockings with light blue frills, blue, light blue, and pink boots with winged purple clovers, and dark blue upper arm rings with small wings. Two giant wings adorned each adorned with a pink heart and a purple clover completed the outfit. Turns out The Gore wasn't the only Celebrity Duelist present because he, Brave Battler, Yuan, and the Vagabond were joined with the one and only Blue Angel.

"Wow..." Brave Battler said, completely in awe. "We're actually working alongside Blue Angel?! This is incredible!"

Yuan, on the other hand, didn't type in a response. Instead, he slowly walked over to Blue Angel, his gaze fixated on her. "What's goin' on with ya?" Brave Battler asked, sounding concerned.

The Vagabond, on the other hand, knew exactly what was going on, since he groaned and rubbed his brow. "Not again..." he muttered.

At that point, Yuan was right next to Blue Angel, who was a bit annoyed with the close distance. "Can I help you?" she asked with her arms crossed.

Yuan typed something into his Duel Disk before placing his arm on Blue Angel's shoulder. At that moment, a single word appeared on his screen.

HEY.

Blue Angel simply remained standing near Yuan, her widened eyes staring at him, her right eyebrow furrowing downward, and her left eyebrow raised upward. Brave Battler and The Gore had similar reactions as they also faced Yuan, wondering what that was for. The Vagabond knew exactly what his partner was doing and all he could do was place his hand on his face out of pure embarrassment. Now is not time, he thought to himself.

"Okay, that's enough," the Vagabond said as he stepped in, pushing Yuan away from Blue Angel. "I take it Striker called you out here too."

"Well like your little armor friend said, that's true," Blue Angel confirmed. "Striker told me his research reveals what happened to one of my childhood friends. If he knows what happened to her, it's bound to be important." She glanced at her Duel Disk and sighed. "But where is he?"

"Good. Everyone is finally present."

#Into the Arcverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #yugioh vrains #yugioh arc v

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pxrtgasdace · 7 years

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race to the pirate doctor, with @pilawforhire. (previously.)

Another man would have taken Law’s offer or suggestion to leave purely out of spite. Let him see how far he’d go without a guiding light, an extra pair of hands and a living fire commanded at will. All three things the captain would regret having dismissed when he found himself in bigger trouble. How easy it was to just walk away with a thanks for nothing and fuck you very much...

Not Ace, though. For one, even if he didn’t need to find this wonder man or heretic demon for Pops’s sake, he was not one to turn his back on adversity, as Law would soon find out, if he hadn’t figured that much already. In some aspects, Ace was a straightforward kind of man, easy to figure. Then, if anything, his companion’s lack of capacity to appreciate his company and the aid light and heat provided was all the more reason why he should stay. What kind of lesson would Law learn if everything he found unpleasant walked away with a gesture of his tattooed hand? Though older than Ace was, he might become a spoiled brat just yet.

Besides, pride and duty aside, to stay around Law came with the fulfilling reward of knowing he'd be bothered. Wasn’t that fun?

By accepting the canteen, which looked like a peace offering, Trafalgar Law accepted Ace’s company in what was now a joint enterprise of unclear nature - were they joining forces to find this doctor still or to get the hell out of what, with every new obstacle, felt more and more like a floating mousetrap?

With a quenched throat, Law threw the canteen back at Ace, who promptly caught it in his hand as though it were a baseball, and gave good use to his voice, letting the intellect hidden under that curious furry hat his new friend thought looked too much like a baby seal for his taste shine through. He’d noticed the absence of women and children and in reality the island was scarce even in the young adult male department. To call it the opposite of Amazon Lily sounded about right. Talking about unnatural demographics!

Ace would have answered Law in all politeness had the Surgeon not made the mistake of talking of Pops and things he did not know or could ever hope to understand - what did he know of Whitebeard? That’s right. He knew nothing. It was not for Law to say if the use Ace was giving to his time would turn out to be a waste and, even if it was so, it was still Ace’s own time he was wasting and no one else’s.

His bitchy friend was already on his way to the curious building of questionable taste but Ace, who’d already placed the canteen back in his bag and positioned it on his back, didn’t move, forcing Law to peek over his shoulder, at least, if not force him to stop altogether lest he proceed all alone.

If he did go for a peek, he’d find Whitebeard’s son frowning back at him and it could not be clearer his calm was an illusion, achieved with no small effort. No longer a little boy with fire on the tip of his tongue, Ace’s temper was not as volatile as it used to be. He could rein in his bad disposition before mild offence, which was arguably the best way to classify Law’s remark, unfortunate but not insulting.

“Careful now, Traffaroo. You don’t want to be speaking of Pops, do you? Nothing’s a waste of time for my father’s sake, you got that? And it’s not like I owe you shit but no, no one knows I’m here. Especially not Pops.”

The moment he said it, Ace thought of his crew, still performing maintenance on the Moby Dick, not too far from this island. His absence should come as no surprise since he’d announced he’d be taking Striker in order to do some personal business; but what of his delay? How much time had passed since his departure? No matter. They would be fine and so would he... and Ace would return with a doctor for Whitebeard, the promised one or not, even if it was Trafalgar Law’s sorry ass he had to drag onto his raft and kidnap... He hoped things would not come to that - Law hardn’t earned his blind trust yet.

Ace’s words were a warning that, once uttered, lifted his mood and brought back a cheeky smile to the face and some wit to the tongue. “You should get along with whoever owns this place. Guy with a big-ass sword, guy with a big-ass building... Sounds like you’re compensating for something”

Finally, Ace caught up with Law. “What about your crew? Do they know you’re here?” Like Law, he noticed the black birds and, just like he did as well, did not give them attention with a prolonged look or a pointing finger. Maybe it was a dumb thought, but Ace gave it voice, still. “D’you think those work like surveillance Den Den Mushi?”

The crows were awfully quiet and still, not there to attack the intruders, meaning there had to be another use to them. They could not be normal crows. If they were, then there should be other animals around, squirrels and lizards... Species which were lacking. Ace’s hypothesis was that the birds might be acting as eyes and even ears to the boss of the weird creatures they’d encountered thus far, which could explain why traps came so quickly whenever they roamed outdoors.

Before Ace could come up with a joke about the foul smell coming from Law’s insides, the facility came full into view. For the love of God! This island was making Ace’s work as a comedian too easy! “Oh, come on! Tell me that’s not compensation!”

At the sudden movement of the ground, Ace grabbed his hat as a reflex, followed by a clumsy seizing of Law’s clothes. But the ground did not open for a second time and thank heavens for that, for the sake of variety. Funny enough, instead of the bottom opening up, it was the top that was closing in on them. Never a dull moment with Traffaroo!

Jokes aside, the ancients had spoken of their fear of having the sky crashing upon them on several accounts and it was not hard to give them credit. It was a scary thing to be suddenly engulfed in darkness, as though there was no escaping closed spaces where the sun didn’t shine. At least neither of them suffered from claustrophobia.

Ace lit up the moment Law spoke but there was no need for his fire to show the way. “The birds”, he said to his grim company with narrowed eyes and a clear tone of accusation in his voice.

A while later, Ace and Law were facing the mighty aubergine phallus with its appendages, the shape not so noticeable up-close. Now, Law might have expertise around balls and feel at ease picking a favourite but that did not mean Ace was eager to do the same. Luckily, the younger man stopped himself in time before provoking the other with this kind of remarks - from what he already knew of Law’s sharpness of the tongue, something told Ace things would follow a route of no return if he gave him an excuse to be lewd. Not only that, there would be no winning... Ace kept his mouth shut about it.

“You’re not the boss of me!” No, no, no. It was not fear. Ace had decided he would not separate ways were it not truly necessary. Without them having the island figured out, adopting the divide et impera tactic could prove to be a fatal mistake. Besides, what made Law believe there would be a way of meeting halfway, even? “Step aside, Roo!” He added, urging Law to give him some space inside the elevator.

No buttons to push. No music to listen to. No movement... And then, when Ace was starting to wonder if this was no more than a static box to trap trespassers inside, the elevator began its crazy ride. Surprised by the sudden jerk, Ace shouted something about being fed up with this shit and grabbed hold of another jerk - his pal Roo, who’d unwillingly bump against him. All Ace could hope, apart from wishing this unnerving trip would stop soon, was for Law not to vomit on his shorts.

“Get off me!” Ace pushed Law away the very moment the door opened, obviously ignoring the fact it was him who was decided to grab Law in the first place. “I hope the crows didn’t catch that... You alright?” He patted Law’s shoulder with some sympathy for his upset stomach and stepped out. As someone used to having his body adopt strange positions when the digestive system was filling up, Ace had more resistance to all those abrupt motions.

The room they were now in was... The very opposite of what Law’s room must be like, according to Ace’s imagination. It was as though someone had puked rainbows all over the place and they had stubbornly pasted themselves to the walls, coating them. A children’s play room, the one Ace could be glad he’d never had.

He glanced over the pictures on the walls. They seemed authentic enough, drawn by children and not adults trying to pass as children though, by now, the idea of them being forged was not that crazy, not after the turkey and the Bigfoot, the gigantic ball and the eccentric construction. While there was nothing special about them, Ace was sure that, for the shortest amount of time, he’d seen a wave of ginger hair before it disappeared. (Where to?)

He was about to tell Law of this - any minimal thing, any slight impression might be of utmost importance - when the same ginger head reappeared and this time it was lock on, targetting Law and throwing sponge balls from the pit placed in a corner of the room at him.

Ace shrieked. What? It was not every day that you were confronted with a maimed cyborg child. The shock subsided and was replaced with something like sadness, akin to it. The first child they met in this island and it was not... whole; healthy. Somehow Ace knew, in his heart, that any other children they might find would be in a similar state, with limbs entirely amiss or mechanical parts in their place.

“No!” He chastised Law even before the Surgeon of Death moved. “Don’t attack her!” His approach was different. “Hey, little girl” Crouching across from Law, elbow supported on the raised leg, Ace gave the child a smile. “Did uncle Traffaroo scare you? Come here” His hand beckoned her to as much as his words did. “It’s alright”

Law might disagree, say this weak form of fighting back was not a fear-induced reaction but a learnt tactic, a command, as though the child was yet another foe, a short-legged, part-tin pawn meant to delay them before the cavalry arrived; yet Ace did believe the girl had to be fearful, if not of them, then of whatever it was that was going on in her life. He’d rather not harm this child or any other.

This pacific approach did not work and Ace made the stupidest face when eleven other kids appeared out of nowhere, from the already mentioned ball pit, from behind the bookshelf, from under big duvets covering bunk beds... forcing Ace to retreat back to Law. Though they were children, there was an army of them, equipped with prosthetic arms, legs, clockwork eyes, metal in lieu of flesh... One of them had no head on its shoulders. It was not a pretty or peaceful sight to behold.

“Hm, Roo? I think we found the kids” No shit. “You’re the doctor. What are the odds of these being happy kids who’re able to enjoy life thanks to the miracles of science and not a sacrilegious fusion of people and kitchen appliances?” Before Law had the chance to answer, Ace addressed the kids. “We mean you no harm. Why are you here?” All that was left was for Ace to ask them ‘take us to your leader’ to complete the stranger in a hostile land cliché. “Where are the women?”

#long post for ts #✕ race to the pirate doctor [plot]#✕ [with pilawforhire]#✕ one more day will be enough [adulthood]#✕ my father is whitebeard [his golden age]#[i never add anything to the thread i always ride on your creativity i'm a leech]#[*keeps on leeching*]

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maple-writes · 5 years

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(Yay, managed to finish this chapter before I go on my trip :D)

I was supposed to have met with Ginger already, but after a brief call she and I both agreed that I needed a little more recovery time before she felt comfortable bringing me. In spite of why, I had to admit I was grateful for the delay. I didn’t like having to leave Striker alone around the anniversary of our mother’s death.

If he was suffering though, he didn’t show. But then again, he rarely showed even when something was wrong. He took the week off work, same as he did last year and the years before that. We spent more time at home, watching movies or playing board games or even just cleaning out the house one room at a time. It was routine, and comforting, and even if he didn’t mention it we both appreciated the closeness and the quiet atmosphere this time of year.

Which is why I was so surprised when Striker accepted Kyra’s invitation to her neighbourhood block party the day of the nineteenth.

The whole street was blocked off and filled with people. Chatter rose loud and joyful through the warm air where it mixed with the smells of cooking hamburgers and hotdogs. Scattered under the canopy of broadleaf, roadside trees sat a colorful bounce house for kids, inflatable games and a range of other activities from face painting to huge chess set. I stuck close to Striker’s side, Cirrus hanging back behind us. My eyes still heavy and my thoughts a little fuzzier than normal, it was a lot to take in all at once.

“Hey!” Kyra waved from a place in the crowd, then slipped through groups of people around her to stand in front of us. She wore a pretty sun dress and denim jacket adorned with buttons all sharing the colors of pink, blue, and white. “You made it!” She smiled at me. “You look a lot better too.”

I couldn’t help but return the grin. “I’m feeling better too.” At least better than when they found me; at least enough to leave the house. “Thanks for helping me out.”

Kyra waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t mention it.”

Music from a small band drifted through the air, distorted by distance. I craned my neck, but couldn’t find it’s source among the heads of the crowd. Striker looked equally curious, scanning the street like he couldn’t figure out what to see first.

Finally, he settled on Kyra. “You guys did this all yourself?”

“It’s kind of a family tradition.” She glanced back at the people in the street with warmth in her face. “There’s a lot of us so it makes light work really.”

Striker tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and raised his eyebrows. “Wow. That’s really cool.”

“Come on,” She tugged gently at his sleeve, grinning at him, then me and Cirrus. “I’ll show you around. Want a hotdog or something?”

Flustered, Striker let her lead the way through the cheerful crowd, Cirrus and I at his heels. Cirrus rolled his eyes as we passed groups of people talking, and all but scowled at the colorful games set up on the grassy sides of the street. I elbowed him in the ribs with a pointed look. He glared, but held his tongue. Good. Kyra stopped us by a woman with short hair and a sleeve tattoo tending to a barbeque covered in patties and hotdogs.

Her face lit up when she saw Kyra and she greeted us with a wave. “Hey-o.” She twirled the spatula then pointed it at us. “Who’re you’re friends?”

Kyra gestured towards me. “This is Asher he—”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “He’s the one who found Lacey, right?”

“Yeah, him and” She gestured to Cirrus. “Him and Cirrus.”

The woman set her spatula down on the side of the grill and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, can’t thank you enough. You can call me Fallon.”

I took her hand and shook. She had the same werewolf aura as Kyra, and I couldn’t help but smile with the good-natured warmth that leaked from her skin.

Kyra stood beside the grill. “She’s my cousin.”

I took my hand back and she extended it to Cirrus, and he reluctantly returned the gesture.

“And this is Striker, Asher’s brother.” Kyra pointed to Striker.

They shook hands as well, then Fallon stood up straight. She had the same wide grin as Kyra plastered across her cheeks. My shoulders fell, relaxed under their easy energy like the sun’s warmth on my back.

Fallon grabbed a plate and raised her eyebrows towards us. “You’ve got good timing, I’ve got some burgers just about ready if you want them.”

The food itself wasn’t anything special, but eating it in the shade of arching trees surrounded by people having a good time made it seem all that much better. I sat on the grass by a tree trunk, watching as Kyra and Striker chatted above my head. If I wasn’t so tired I would have joined in, but just listening put me at ease. Cirrus had gone off somewhere, but I couldn’t be bothered to track him down just yet.

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the bark of the tree, sighing with the gentle breeze across my skin. It was a nice day, the nicest in a while. The kind of day when nothing could go wrong.

“You!”

My eyes snapped open as a man with a snarl stalked towards Striker. I tensed as he stopped barely an arm’s length from his face. Kyra’s face went white, her posture just as stiff as mine.

Striker held out a hand, keeping space between the two of them. “Hey.” He kept his voice even, but firm. “Is there a problem?”

The man balled his fists. “Hell yeah there is! How dare you show your face here after what you did to my sister?”

For a moment Striker’s face didn’t change, then it twisted in realisation.

“Do you even remember?” The man raised his voice, thrusting a finger towards his chest. “She came home crying after school because of you now how dare you—”

Kyra swallowed and inched herself beside the man. “Calm down Dylan it’s—”

“Fine?” Dylan swung his head towards her. “It’s not fine; he’s the son of a bitch who bullied my sister!”

“Hey!” The word tore from my throat and I leapt to my feet. Anger ran hot through my veins and tore at my chest. How dare he? “He is not!”

Striker raised open palms with a glance towards the people starting to watch. “Let’s take this somewhere else, okay? There’s kids here and—”

Dylan lunged at Striker, slamming his first into his gut. Striker hunched over and Dylan punched him in the side of the head, He stumbled on his feet and fell onto the grass by the tree’s roots.

Panic gripped my limbs and I froze. My heart pounded loud in my ears, screaming that I should do something, but I couldn’t move. I could only stare, wide eyed, as Dylan wound a kick.

But Striker scrambled up, retreating with his hands outstretched in between the two of them. “Stop!” He raised his voice, the edge sharpened and his stare hard.

Dylan didn’t listen, rushing forward with another punch aimed at Striker’s face, but this time he jumped back out of reach. My legs shook. Dylan’s back was to me. I could grab his arms. I could help Striker. But fear seized to my bones, rooting me to the spot helplessly as Dylan kept coming.

Kyra watched, my own worry written across her face. “Dylan stop!”

She reached for his elbow, but he wrenched it out of her grip. Dylan distracted, Striker swooped forward, grabbed his other arm and wrenched it behind his back. He forced Dylan around and pinned him face first against the trunk of the tree.

Dylan struggled, but couldn’t free himself from Striker’s hold. “Let me go you bastard!”

“Not if you’re going to hit me again!”

“Fuck you.”

From somewhere in the crowd, Fallon shouldered her way through and stopped behind Striker. “Is there a problem here?”

I whirled, thoughts racing too fast to pick out a good sentence. She glanced at me, then back at the two of them, hands on her hips and face set in a glare.

“Unhand my cousin.” When Striker hesitated, she lowered her voice to a growl. “Now.”

Striker did as he was told, stepping back and away from Dylan as he turned, brushing moss and dirt from his shirt. He glared at my brother with enough fire to melt solid rock.

“You knew he was here?” Dylan pointed at Striker. “He,” for the first time, his voice faltered. “He made Mabel’s life miserable! He teased her and threatened her and—“

“It wasn’t his fault!” The volume of my voice shocked me, ripped from ice cold lungs. “He—“

Striker shot me a look through narrowed eyes. “Asher.” He lowered his eyes and nodded. “I know. It wasn’t right. She didn’t deserve it.” He sighed. “I’m really sorry.”

For a moment, Dylan looked confused, but the anger quickly took back it’s place. “I don’t care how sorry you are. Doesn’t mean nothing apologizing to me.” He snarled. “You’re word’s worthless to me.”

“Listen,” Striker spoke low, soft. “I’m not proud of what I did.” He toed at a clump of moss by his foot. “I understand if you don’t want to forgive me.”

I turned towards Dylan, trying my best to pick a thought from the ones racing through my skull. “He’s not bad! It was hard for him too when he—“

“Enough, Ash.” Striker shook his head. “You don’t have to defend me.”

“But,” I swallowed my words and lowered my head. I didn’t get it. It wasn’t fair. Especially not today…

Dylan swayed side to side, watching Striker through narrowed eyes. Something brushed my shoulder and I jumped, but looking up it was only Cirrus. He glanced between the two of them, then raised his eyebrows towards me.

Cirrus slid a casual hand into his pocket and leaned back on one leg. “Did I miss a fight?” His ocean-blue eyes slide towards me and I nodded. “Too bad, would have been something to see.”

I crossed my arms and shot him a glare, but he only rolled his eyes and turned back to the action. New anger flared in my gut. How could he care so little? Was I the only one who cared?

Finally, Dylan sighed. “Mabel’s here somewhere, tell it to her yourself.”

Striker nodded, once, wringing his fingers together. “Of course.

“I think I saw here not too long ago by the big chess.” Fallon pointed with her thumb somewhere farther down the block. “I’ll go with you. Keep an eye on the both of you.”

They half muttered their agreements, and Fallon turned to lead. I started to follow by Striker’s shoulder, but he held me back with a gentle hand.

“Thanks Ash, but I think it’s best if you wait here.” He smiled, but his eyes were too tired looking to make it convincing. “It’s between us, alright?”

I nodded and stepped back beside Cirrus. All I could do was watch him, Dylan and Fallon disappear somewhere.

The people watching quickly pretend to be looking at something else. Kyra glanced between us and where they’d just gone, then shook her head at the ground. “Sorry about that,” She sighed, long and shaky. “I…”

I shook my head. “It’s okay.” Well it wasn’t, but it also wasn’t Kyra’s fault.

“So,” Cirrus smirked. “Who won?”

Kyra gave him a confused look and I did my best to ignore him, and the angry retort that bit at my tongue. Nothing good would have come out of my mouth right now. Instead, I sighed and rubbed at the back of my neck. Maybe if I changed the subject…

“So, um,” I turned back to Kyra. “How is Lacey?”

Her posture immediately relaxed, a sigh of relief slipping from her lips. “She’s doing really well.” She smiled, small and soft. “She and my sister are on a little vacation to the interior right now.”

“Nice.” I nodded and straightened my back. “I’m glad.”

She nodded back, and then an awkward quiet fell over the three of us. The air seemed to buzz, slowly releasing the tension that’d built in the space beneath the canopy of leaves. The rush of feelings would live faintly in their branches for months. I tried to crane my neck and see where Striker had gone, but I failed to find him through the gathered people.

Kyra gently reached for my elbow, brushing her hand against my sleeve. “Hey, don’t worry.” She offered a smile, and I couldn’t help but relax under her gaze. “I’m sure he’ll be okay. Dylan’s a little short tempered, but he’s not awful, really.” She chuckled under her breath. “And he goes at him again I’m sure Fallon can sort them out. Everyone listens to her.”

“Good.” I sighed and lowered my voice. “It’s just… It’s not really a great time for this, you know?”

Kyra tilted her head, concern furrowing her eyebrows. I turned away, studying the breaks and ridges on the bark of the tree trunk. Was it really my place to tell her? My heart sank. I’d already gotten this far…

“It’s the anniversary of our mom’s dying.”

Quiet pressed heavy on my shoulders despite the ever present laughter and chatter from all around us.

Then Kyra spoke, soft and gentle. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I took a breath and faced her again. “It was a long time ago now. I’m okay, but I feel bad for Striker.” Why was I telling her all this? “He’d lost his dad when he was fourteen, too.” I paused. “Don’t tell him I told you that.”

Kyra nodded firm. “Sure.”

“Hey,” Cirrus looked up from his phone. “Striker says they’re going for coffee?”

I scrunched my face and dug my phone from my pocket. Sure enough, he’d sent a message: getting coffee with Dylan, Fallon and Mabel. See you tonight. It must have gone well… I hastily typed a reply and slipped it back into my pocket.

Cirrus crossed his arms loosely in front of his chest. “Oh well.” He sighed dramatically, shoulders bunching by his ears. “At least he tells us when he’s taking off, unlike some people.”

I rolled my eyes and matched his arms-crossed stance. “Yeah, okay, fine.” He wasn’t going to let it go, was he?

Kyra chuckled. “I’m glad it seems to be okay.” She straightened her back and a smile stretched across her face. “Unless you have somewhere else you’ve got to be, you’re welcome to stay. I can introduce you to the rest of my family if you like.” She glanced between the two of us. “Most of us already know your names, but I’m sure they’d love to actually meet you. Or we can play some games.”

Cirrus grinned, teeth sharp hiding behind his lips. “I’m curious about face paint.” He glanced at Kyra. “We don’t have that where I come from.”

Dragons didn’t have face paint? A smile spread across my face at the thought of Cirrus with a whole face of paint. “Sure thing.” He didn’t know what he was in for.

“Great!” Kyra started to lead the way. “Leena’s on painting right now, she’s lots of fun.”

I followed in her shadow, hurrying to catch up. Good. It wouldn’t hurt to do something fun before tonight.

Tag List (so exciting! First time I’ve ever done a tag list aaaah): @abalonetea, @cadewrites

(also if you change your mind about being on the tag list feel free to let me know and I’ll take you off)

#chapter six #my writing #writeblr #writblr #fiction #the city of eventide #original writing #original fiction #idk what else to tag #:D

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