#;i want to be strong enough to punch out the wimp i am now! (character study - ganta) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aleatoryalarmalligator · 6 years

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Life Story PART 66

When I got back from Texas, things pretty much went back to the way they had before, like I had never left. It felt like the people around me were becoming more and more unhinged though – like all this craziness was eventually going to lead to a death in the family, like the decisions and the way everyone treated one another was going to accumulate into a chaos that would rip through the centuries and become the psychological ailments of future generations of people distantly related to us one hundred and fifty years in the future. The chaos that was created by my parents, my older sisters, and my brother was going to pierce the heart of a city. The decisions we made today could create the right stuff to breed a monster, the same way that some drunken alcoholic rapist for a dad back in the late seventeen hundreds likely abused his kids and the abuse and dysfunction prevailed throughout the family line and created a school shooter several hundred years in the future. I truly believe my family is unknowingly planting seeds.

It might have been that I was just noticing things I hadn't noticed before. That was always happening now.

Me, Allison and David, we all got really into Fight Club for a time and would watch it every night. I loved the inner dialogue of the main character – and didn't really know how played out Fight Club kind of was. Most people complain about the ending when Edward Norton and Helena Bonham Carter's characters hold hands and watch the buildings fall – but I personally loved it. It's just such a moment. I have double feelings about Fight Club. On one hand, it has this postmodern honesty to it that I had craved – and hadn't known I had craved. I understood the disenfranchisement in my own way. I adored Marla. On the other hand many of the fans of Fight Club are these fake 'revolutionary' dudes who think it's a movie for and about women bumming men out. They look at Tyler Durden as some kind of role model – Brad Pitt's character in particular – in a way that sort of completely misunderstands the book. Most of the people who think they understand Fight Club actually do not. Which is okay. We all have the right to enjoy media entertainment in our own way. It just felt to me at times like it appealed to and eventually helped breed the fedora wearing meninist nationalist Mr. smooth voice dudes. It really has been misused – a lot.

David and I got into boxing. Really, it was my father who was into boxing – and he thought that maybe David could use his access aggression to become a boxer – perhaps even a successful one. My father had had a friend who boxed professionally, being one of the better boxers in the state, and that man had told my father that he himself could have been a boxer had he chosen to dedicate himself to it – which he was probably being honest about. My father has a very thick skull. I don't believe this is the worst idea my father ever had, but it was in a way emotionally lazy to believe that what David had was an access of energy that could be fixed by buying a punching bag. David was personally suffering and acting psychotic and boxing didn't fix anything/ However, we both did like to box. It's hard to believe it now, but for about three months I mulled over the idea of perhaps taking up boxing myself. My father was a little taken aback by my ideas in this regard. He didn't condemn me for this idea per say, that I might be the boxer of the family and not David. He more just didn't like the idea of having a girl in the family who was physically tough. In the end, I gave up being a boxer, some for reasons I will explain, but largely because I didn't want to have a permanently smashed up face.

What I liked about boxing was, there was something incredibly liberating about being able to mock beat the fuck out of something. All my life, I guess since I had been a sweet shy little child in a homemade sundress, I had been really messed with and I had been psychologically socialized to not think that I was capable of getting my way, emotionally, psychologically or physically. And that had gone so badly for me. Having been abused in so many different areas, when I boxed I felt like I had the control again temporarily – as if I was knocking down those who victimized me. Secondly, though I know it would hurt like hell in the ring with a professional, I sort of enjoyed getting punched. I know it's weird, but it brought me this weird kind of joy. Sometimes I would do poorly when jousting with David just so he would punch me repeatedly. So, for this reason, given also that I am much stronger than most women physically, I thought that it might be a plan for my future – maybe. I also liked how boxing was a game of strategy. I watched all the famous boxing matches, all the Muhammad Ali fights.

David got a lot of attention for being interested in boxing from my father, and it became this really unhealthy thing in the end as I soon came to find. My father taught David a limited amount of defense techniques that he knew, and bought him a punching bag. But there was never any further training for David. David would walk around at first – pumped up believing he was going to be a pro boxer. But without a trainer he would never have a chance, and my father of course was not willing to spend any money on it. You could see this mounting disappointment growing on David's face – as he was now feeling cheated more by my dad wanting to fantasize than anything ever actually happening. Secondly, my dad only got into the whole boxing thing because he wanted to distract himself from online relationships he was having for a few months. As soon as he was with someone new he met online, he totally neglected David's interests in boxing. It was not hard to see the true feeling of being betrayed and abandoned on David's face, but nobody could say a thing.

David about a year or two later ended up putting my father in his place. My dad was just beginning to be intimidated by David. He was afraid that David, being as he was young, somewhat tall and muscular would eventually overtake him. My father believed that all sons want to destroy their fathers physically and make them the bitch of the house (as to any real verification of this, maybe, I don't know because it's so outside my zone), he became intimidated by David boxing. He wanted the local fuckheads and losers to see how much tougher he was than David. So, he decided to set up a boxing match between himself and David while David was still young enough to be beaten. He set the boxing match out in the backyard of Billy's house and a handful of these idiots came out to watch my Dad essentially put David in his place. It was so, so backwards. Well, David was starting to really resent my father. I think he resented dad on some level when he had been talking about moving away from all of us to live with Patti in Boise instead. It had really rattled David's understanding of his place in the family at that early age, and this all was beginning to feel, and rightly so, like my father was more or less using us kids to fulfill his own emptiness and David was nothing more than a vessel for my father to relive his 'glorious youth' through.

And well, David ended up catching on to just how fucked up it was that my father wanted to beat him up in front of a bunch of guys. My father was actually beginning to punch and hurt David in the boxing match – pretending that David was being weak and he was merely trying to 'toughen him up', but David somehow turned it around, realizing it was not a fair fight and putting all his might into it, he slammed my father in the face and bloodied his nose. David didn't pulverize our father, but he knocked him down, in front of 'the guys' which he completely deserved and it humiliated my father, though in order to save face with himself he acted proud of David. The dynamics between them were getting stranger and stranger.

As for me, I once went outside and overheard my father talking to David out by the boxing area around our porch. They didn't know I was out there. What I overheard managed to upset me to the point that I did start to cry. Basically, David was being mostly calm and agreeable. I don't blame him for this. My father was making fun of me, saying that it was very dumb of me to think I could ever become a boxer, and he was prepping David to beat me up really good in order to teach me some kind of lesson. Basically, my father was trying to get David to beat me up for him. David just mmhmmed it, and it was an open rule among me and my younger siblings that mmhmming things when our parents were talking badly about one of us to another one was a perfectly acceptable way for us all to survive. Our father was actually quoting Fight Club, him being one of those fucking idiots I guess who think that the story was antiwoman. And it really hit me then, not that I hadn't instinctively and at times somewhat directly understood that my father resented women. But he wanted to take that anger out on me specifically – there was something about me that bothered him the worst, and he wanted to kill the poetic bird inside my heart, chop off my wings and my sense of self sufficiency, and he wanted to see me physically and psychologically beaten. I hid behind the house and cried against the wall. I asked David about the 'talk' I had overheard, and David confirmed to me what my father had been saying.

A year later, I decided to spar with one of Kyle's little brothers who lived next door, Khris. He was really strong, but I knew more techniques, and in any case we were only doing this for some fun. We both agreed not to punch as hard as we could or anything. Well, he wouldn't get close enough to actually be in a match. He stood seven or eight feet away and wouldn't get near me enough to fight. I should have just said, 'hey, I don't spar with wimps,' and took my gloves off, but instead, after waiting for three or four minutes I decided to get in there and just take this to some kind of conclusion. As soon as I walked over to him, he threw this wild haymaker and rabbit punched me behind my head, between where my head starts and my neck – and he did it as hard as he could. You aren't supposed to punch like that, since it can cause spinal and brain damage, and it really did mess me up. I started crying and I had to get in the house. Everyone was very annoyed at Khris, knowing full and well that he had intentionally cheated in just about every way. Khris just kept saying 'wow, it's because I am so strong! I didn't know I was this strong because I just tapped her!' which was total bull. He wanted to pretend he was superman, basically. And I just decided as I held my head and cried against the tool shed, that I was never going to box again. Second to that, David and I had gotten into a disagreement and then proceeded to box once. We both had gotten really aggressive with one another, which was stupid. I guess I was infuriated by David and I wanted to be able to take it out on him. But me initiating that fight had also been stupid. So for me, being a boxer was not meant to be. I didn't want to deal with my father being a sexist prick, getting rabbit punched by cheaters, and using boxing as some kind of coping mechanism. So I let that dream die.

Upon my father's behest, I attempted to apply to ATK where my father worked for a job at the sorting lines. This involved going through a very large process of applying, and going to a class in the unemployment office that tested our basic IQ's. I still could not write, nor did I have a social security card, but my father seemed to think you didn't need these things to work there – you did. I think he wanted this because he wanted to control me – and in his mind I am sure he saw it as helping. In any case, if I got the job, the starting pay was thirteen dollars an hour. That sounded amazing to me. I didn't even fully understand what could be done with that kind of money. I couldn't manage to scrap together thirteen dollars a week most of the time. I had to somehow bleach the rainbow out of my hair just in the hopes I might get the job– making the mistake of doing it right before we had to leave was a sorry mistake and it pretty much destroyed my hair. I mean, it was blonde, but I didn't even finish washing out the bleach before I left. My head dried with crusty bleach since I didn't wash it out well enough. My skull bled a bit, the hair wasn't even hair anymore. It was falling out. I really had not wanted to change my hair color, but work would never allow me to have rainbow colored hair. For this reason, I hoped dearly that I would be able to at least get the job I wanted. Nothing hurts worse than sacrificing parts of your identity for someone/something, only to be rejected anyway.

I went in for my final assessment where I was going to talk to some people about getting hired. I went into this office, where I was called in. Two men came in. They were very phony to me – you could tell they had moderate positions of power, had to kiss ass to their bosses, but also loved getting their ass kissed too – which I guess made it all worth while to them. They used a bunch of absurd company lingo, and they didn't talk to me directly at all. They looked over my application and my basic information, and they talked about me as though I were not in the room. I didn't have the job. They didn't want to invest their time and energy in someone as young as me. But rather than have someone come out and tell me that I wasn't a good fit, I spent twenty minutes listening to this absurdly phony banter, which I assume is some kind of cheap ass corporate technique of letting people off easy. I hated it. I would much rather they just looked me in the face and explained what was up. In any case, I hadn't really wanted that job. I just needed it. Which kind of sucks worse, but you know.

At my mother's it was the same old same old. Roxanne and Jeremy had gotten into the low income housing they needed, so they no longer lived at my mothers and I had more reign again. Roxanne was pregnant again, with a baby girl. She seemed happy, but she seemed unhappy about it too – very unhappy. Jeremy had basically forced her into getting pregnant so that she would never have any recourse. He wanted to be attached to her forever. Roxanne likes having babies. It's sort of her thing. But I had this very eye-opening experience with her where she showed a rare moment of clarity and honesty. She was crying after a fight her and Jeremy had had. I don't remember all of what was said. I was laying on the couch a bit mystified. But essentially she told me that she dreaded having the baby. She almost wished that she could get an abortion, and part of her was willing to go to hell for it, just to not have to be attached to Jeremy. She wanted away from him. He was dangerous and sociopathic and controlled every aspect of her. She was sobbing uncontrollably, and she had pretty much spelled out that she knew full and well what this pregnancy was. But there was also no place for me to stop this train. I listened and I tried to agree with her. But I knew that agreeing too hard would get me shut out, and she wouldn't even have the opportunity for these rare moments of hearing herself say something that made sense. I was hoping she would listen to herself. She did not.

I began to go to bible studies with Roxanne and her family. This particular group was mostly younger and middle aged people who had really messed their lives up. It wasn't your typical older folks church. I was an atheist there, disguised as a Christian. I mostly went for the food and because I was always feeling anxious and alone and it at least gave me something to do, but there was something really humbling and comforting about being around people who were trying to better themselves, no matter how misguided I felt like it was ultimately. I went because for one, there were honestly, passages in the bible about love and about how we are to see one another that I thought were pretty damn deep coming from someone nearly two-thousand years ago. Even if you don't agree with those statements, it's really worth understanding and appreciating that they really were dealing with certain elements of the human condition in the best way they knew how, and in certain ways, society hasn't changed from then. Most of the bible is totally frivolous demanding statements without explanation and the other half is fairy tale, but here and again, if taken a part piece by piece sometimes you find something is there. I thought the guy who ran the bible study, was a completely self righteous asshole. He had a lot of power in the community, and I guess he helped a lot of people. A long time ago, he had been a heavy drinker and had become an alcoholic, and he had turned his life around. People groveled to him, and when they had Christmas and Thanksgiving get togethers in the community hundreds of people would treat him like he was a prophet. But to me, I thought he was a sick arrogant bastard. The whole thing had gone to his head. He not only looked down on those he helped like they were freeloaders, he also thought that his wealth and his influence in the community meant he might actually be some kind of messiah. Maybe he did a lot of good – he was definitely a smart guy and he was able to rally up money to help needy kids, but his personality was shit and he was homophobic and sexist – though he generally didn't talk so much about sinning and rather applying the bible to your life so it didn't come up much. I looked around sometimes and could not people were so in love with this guy.

All the same, I went to his meetings for about a year. I sometimes got free top ramen and I was given a free raincoat once. He didn't talk offensively about 'the gays' and he was never rude to me. He made possible, and offered places for homeless people to live, and offered up and found places, sometimes even in church basements for people in bad places to stay for awhile till they got the help they needed. It was no wonder in many respects that people of the community cared so deeply for this guy. I guess I couldn't personally complain either. I just knew he was a real douche, I could read it on his face and I could tell how much be looked down on people – I just couldn't tell anyone I thought that.

I remember very vividly a terrible fight I ended up having with my mother and David. It was up to that point one of the worst fights we had had in some time. It started with my mother was being really virulent towards David for no reason. My mother has some kind of unspecified personality disorder. Everybody who has ever met her has said it. I think it's likely she has several and they interact with each other strangely. My father thought bipolar and sometimes sociopath (though he's no angel either honestly). I think borderline and anxiety. She's been diagnosed with ADHD. It could be that she is just massively insecure. Now that I am older and I can see her not as my parent, but as the weird woman that she is, and can identify in myself the things that came from her, I have learned what I can and cannot tolerate from her personally and have to leave, and what isn't worth getting into with her. Because she won't stop. Her moods and her entire identity will fluctuate and her fantasies will proceed more deeply. If she is being mean towards you, it's a petty power play. She might really hurt a person and totally forget she ever did it. I don't think she can help it. Anyway, living with her is a drag. She likes chaos and will find ways to create it. She was intentionally being mean towards David this one Saturday evening, pushing his buttons to make him snap.

I put my book down and tried to stick up for David. It is a weakness I have. It might slightly be fueled by my ego. I have troubles understanding what is acceptable for what I accept, and therefore I will accept a lot of abuse. I am also a bit of a coward. I am not the most cowardly person mind you, but I know I could be better. But when I see someone I care about being given a hard time I jump in and try to protect that person and I rarely think of the consequences. That's what I did, and when I stepped in and tried to tell my mother to knock it off, or tried to explain the misunderstanding that I thought the two of them were having, it all went to hell and she was screaming at me, and I was trying to defend myself. Pretty soon, David, who I had been trying to protect, sided with her and the two of them were screaming at me together calling me worthless and a number of other things I don't even fully remember. David saw this I think as an opportunity to blow some steam at me, which made little to no sense, but he was a fucked up angry kid in certain ways so it was to be expected I suppose. I was being attacked at different angles, I was being told I was a loser and that my dreams were nothing, and I suddenly felt myself snap. I called my mother a bitch and told her she could fuck herself and she was a terrible person and just about everything I could think of. I was sobbing and I knew if I stayed I would physically attack them, so I slammed the door and left. I was crying and out the door grabbing my shoes and coat as I went

I thought about running away. For about five minutes it all made perfect poetic sense to run away. I didn't know how I would survive, but people surely did this kind of thing all the time. I knew there was a world out there that wasn't my family's house. I wanted that freedom. But then, as I walked on I realized flatly that it could never happen. I had less experience out in the world than most. I could only survive with a book in my face at this point. I felt ugly and fat. I was already starving and I needed to pee. I was freezing without a coat. I had no money. It was basically winter. But I felt this agonizing frustration at the idea of going back. It didn't seem emotionally possible for me to simply stroll back through the door. Things had been said that had been malicious. I just figured I would walk around, cold and miserable as I was for awhile. I was hoping the library across town would be open – it was not. I knew I had to walk back or take cover somewhere.

Meanwhile, my mother called up my father and told him that I had freaked out on the family, and had been acting crazy and suicidal. Like a fucking sucker he bought her story of all people, and he came over – convinced that it was yet again me who was the true culprit of all things terrible in the family. Honestly, I think at the heart of it my parents wanted to snuff out a certain kind of clarity I had that they found offensive. When people talked to me, I tried to be honest and thoughtful and thorough in my responses. I was a listener and found ways to be trusted and needed by my family when they talked.

I went back to the area, but I saw my dad's car in the apartment complex driveway and I just couldn't do it. There was some guaranteed drama in there. I listened in. My parents were talking about me. They were talking about how I was a mooch, about how reading and studying philosophy was ruining me for the work force – I was too poor and too lower class to be thinking that I had any potential to become anything. I had been talking loosely to my mother about a dream of mine to travel the world. I fantasized about hitchhiking since I had just read the Dharma Bums. I wasn't actually going to do it, but I wanted to travel like the beatniks did back in the day. Her and my father both spent a good deal of time talking about how I was unrealistic about my goals. I don't even know what they were even trying to say about me after awhile. I was just a horrible person I guess, with no specific crimes other than being who I was. My goals had had nothing to do with my mom attacking David over the remote controller mind you. Also, my parent's hated one another. They both saw the other as a sociopath. My mother had tried to get my dad into prison for not keeping us one weekend only a year and a half previous because she and Danny had wanted to party. They hated me because I was passively rebelling. I wasn't fucking up like my older sisters had by having gross boyfriends, drugs, getting pregnant with babies I couldn't take care of and didn't want to. Even though I generally said very little, I had dismissed their way of life, their world views and their existences and had become a voluntary orphan of sorts. And I was so bad that these two shitshows for people had seen fit to side with one another against the common enemy – me. I was mad, and I didn't want to be spotted by anyone lurking outside the window. So I left.

I had to go pee so bad, it was pitch black out and my skin was ice. I could see my breath, I felt exhausted and cried out in the winter air and horrible and panicked. Down the road quite a ways there was a gulch, and I figured I might be able to pee there. I didn't have toilet paper. It was going to be a mess. I just couldn't walk through that door with everyone revved up to attack me like this. So I walked over there and tried to pee. I ended up slipping as I tried to pee, which caused me to fall on a bunch of puncture weeds which are the curse of Clarkston. So there was not only pee all over me and my clothes now, but I had scratched up my butt and the pee that had gotten all over me made me even colder and I smelled and I had no future and I hated myself but resented the reasons why other people hated me and I missed the few people in my life who had ever cared about me at all, and it was seriously, no fucking fun. I wish this misery on absolutely no one.

I trudged back to the apartments frozen with pee all over me and I walked down into the laundry area. It was a really fucked up laundry room. Part of the wall had been torn down and there was broken wood and knocked over dead washing machines and various parts of debris and garbage all over floor. It looked like someone might have squatted down there. I found a place to sit. I sat there and sang to myself and rocked back and forth. I felt sick and alone and mentally unstable. Eventually, the voice of utilitarian pragmatism took over, and I knew that sooner or later I would have to go back into the building anyway. It was two in the morning by that time. I had been outside frozen and feeling awful for eight hours. My mother was still up and she tried to say something to upset me as I walked through the door. I just closed my eyes and said nothing. All that mattered was that I get warm and get clean clothes on. I just pretended she didn't exist.

Of course, my father's later retelling of that story is that he protested my mother's snarky confusing comments about me. While it is true that she initiated the entire thing and made up the most about me that wasn't even true, she had also gotten my father to speak pretty unfavorably about me. He doesn't remember it that way. He honestly remembers being some kind of honorable ally to me this night, but he doesn't know that I had been hanging out outside the window and had heard it all.

On the positive – kinda. There was this beautiful husky that lived a few doors down. Her name was Tikka. She was well trained, she wasn't reserved at all as some huskies are. She loved people and she loved especially children. For some horrible reason her masters just left her when they moved. It made zero sense to me. Tikka ended up come up to our area of the apartment complex, and more or less became everyone's dog. Everyone fed her, everyone let her stay in our apartments (this despite the fact that there was a no dog rule). She would knock on your door when she wanted in. This went on for a few months I think until someone found a permanent home for her. During the days she would play outside with the children. I seriously remember this almost cartoonishly sweet scene out the window one day. Tikka was smiling ear to ear. On her back as she walked were two small toddlers. She was seriously voluntarily giving the children free rides. I know that things like Tikka being a good community dog are really small. But they were literally the only things that kept me afloat. I had to really have a blind faith that things were going to work out well for me. Because I had no indication that they were. I was pretty much trapped, by my own inability to operate in the world like a normal human being, my lack of connections, but mostly my family. I sometimes just started thinking about killing myself. I didn't really ever have a plan of action. I didn't openly express that I was going to commit suicide. It just felt as though death's door presented itself to me and creaked open a little bit. I didn't go through, but I didn't keep my eyes off it either.

I sometimes would look at the old letters Zack used to write to me about me having a destiny and being a very special person and about how the world was trying to dim my inner light and I couldn't let them do that to me. I would remember that he had told Casey that he loved me still. It hurt. I couldn't face him, he had a girlfriend. Zack also was not a caretaker. There are the types of people who want to take care of others, and there are the types that do not. Zack was not someone who took care of people. In this sense I think I was beginning to understand that he wasn't a particularly grand human being. I had never seen him kick anyone while they were down. But I hadn't seen him help anyone either. I had read enough books, and knew enough very real feeling fictional characters to know that he lacked a lot of positive traits I had never thought to look for when I was naive in my early teens. And I was so full of the kind of pain someone might very well run from. I didn't want to be seen as a weak person filled with pain. Perhaps if I had known Zack better. But I really didn't. I understood that now. And he hadn't known me either. But I had to believe he knew me well enough to have seen that inner light I had, because if that inner light wasn't real, and I wasn't special or perfect or loved, than nothing was worth it for me. It wasn't worth being alive for me really. Not like it was. Still, I just knew somehow that he and I were meant to be. My new reason for not telling anyone that I was still in love with Zack wasn't to avoid talking about him or to deny it myself or get people to not want what I had. It was to prevent people from thinking I was fucking insane. Because at this point, five years after all was said and done, for me to be holding on to this in some way really was absolutely crazy.

PART 65 - https://tinyurl.com/yb22o6rv

PART 64 - https://tinyurl.com/y98zxljs

PART 63 - https://tinyurl.com/ybosu235

PART 62 - https://tinyurl.com/ybjrvccn

PART 61 - https://tinyurl.com/ybm99k8o

My Life Story in Chapters, PARTS 1-60 (this link below will lead you to a list of all the chapters i have written thus far).

http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/168782771574/life-story-sections-1-60

#text

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words-writ-in-starlight · 7 years

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I'd love to hear your thoughts about adhd Rachel.

So, for context, when I was a small baby human reading these for the first time, I saw Rachel and I was like “!!!!!!”, you know, as you do when you see a character who kind of Speaks to whatever undetermined weirdness you have going on at the time. And then I was a slightly older baby human whose school reputation was Somewhere Between Charming Young Genius And Possible Future Gangster--by which I mean that I have punched many a person in my public school career and consequently had a lot of people who were afraid of me and not many close friends. And I connected even more to Rachel then, because listen: it’s so easy to just fight, and fight, and fight, when you’re too depressed and angry to control overwhelmingly impulsive thoughts. Now I’m an adult and I know that a huge part of my problem was undiagnosed ADHD (in addition to just being...I’m a real angry person you guys, it’s just...how it is), and I went back to reread the Animorphs and I was like “You know who the fuck else has ADHD.”

I connected to that in Rachel, and I have Evidence.

First things first, you know that...thing in Rachel books where she’ll actually verbally go “this may not be a good idea” once she’s already doing it? Constantly? That’s the impulsivity thing in ADHD that you hear about. It’s not dunking your hand into 160 degree water without realizing that you’re going to burn yourself and being surprised when it hurts, it’s dunking your hand into 160 degree water and your brain going “hey, that’s going to hurt, you’re going to get burned” once you’re already whipping your hand back and yelling and being resigned that it hurts. That little voice in your head telling you not to do dangerous stuff is still there, it’s just super late to the party. And Rachel is a fucking thesis on that whole concept. The first time she morphs grizzly, she picks the morph on impulse because she wants to be big and strong and able to fight back, and once she’s finished the change she goes hmm, this might be a bad idea, I don’t know if I can control this morph under pressure but she’s already done it and they’re in battle and she’s committed. When Cassie tells her “I’m going to go get help, don’t do anything dumb” in Book 12, Rachel isn’t unaware that jumping down into the croc pit is something dumb, it’s just that the connection between the action and the fact that it’s a bad idea is made once she’s already up on the railing and jumping in. She knows that morphing into a starfish on a beach full of people in order to retrieve an earring is both stupid and dangerous, but by the time she notices, she’s already committed. So: uncontrolled impulses, check.

Incidentally, I always take it kind of personally when people in the fandom read it as...I don’t know, as either Rachel willfully ignoring good sense or Rachel genuinely not knowing a good plan from a bad one. Rachel knows common sense when she hears it, that’s obvious even if she sometimes prioritizes some other thing. And more to the point, Rachel is pretty good at combat tactics in the heat of the moment. Take 22, where she assembles a plan to take down David in the mall--the fact that he had time to prepare the ground doesn’t change the fact that her plan is reasonably tight. This is something I will bitch about at length when I write up a recap for Book 37, AKA my most hated Animorphs book because it does BOTH of those things to Rachel’s character. She’s reckless and impulsive, not stupid, and honestly I kind of resent the part of the fandom that confuses the two.

Second of all, Rachel’s emotional responses tend to either be ‘highly controlled and masked with sarcasm’ or ‘wildly out of hand’, which is really typical of girls with ADHD--society tells us to be utterly in control, which means that the emotional lability (...being mercurial, basically) typical of ADHD bursts out in sudden violence or crying or whatever your particular person is prone to. So, like, take that one time very early in the series where Rachel goes from being totally checked out to slamming another girl face-first into a table. ...I’m not saying I’ve done that. But I am saying that one time when I was twelve a guy came up and hugged me from behind and started complaining when I told him to leave me alone and I put him on the floor and dared a teacher to suspend me. And Marco says, when they’ve all been dragged up to Chapman’s office, that he’s afraid Rachel’s just going to out them to Chapman right then and there because she’s so furious and out of control. I told a teacher to go to hell, and called another one a moron to his face, and told yet a third one that he couldn’t find his way around a literary analysis with both hands an a torch. That’s super standard undiagnosed ADHD shit right there, especially since Rachel’s under a lot of pressure.

Third of all, Rachel’s got some focus problems like whoa: she does struggle to focus on the right thing from time to time, but I’m more interested in the wat she exhibits some real hyperfocus. The main example that springs to mind is the way Cassie describes Rachel shopping in MM4--there’s no war, there’s no outside stressors of life or death issues, and Cassie still talks about how Rachel is absolutely laser focused, to the point of scheming out which stores they’ll hit in what order like a battle plan. We hear a lot about Rachel with this kind of obsessive focus, to exclusion of all else, often about shopping but also about other things. Hyperfocus is a little-discussed but extremely common symptom of ADHD, and it really is exactly what it says on the tin. And Rachel, oh boy, does Rachel ever have it.

Related to the focus thing, there’s this one bit that I read and every time I’m like SAME DUDE, and it’s from that same scene in the mall at the beginning of 22, when Rachel and Ax are forming up to attack. She believes Tobias is dead, Jake is actively bleeding to death on the floor, the situation could not be more dire--and her brain still goes “hey, that store’s having a sale.” And Rachel is furious with herself for it, she hates that her brain kicks that bit of information out while everything is so awful, but she just can’t seem to stop it. That’s the life, man. #ADHDAesthetic right there.

Fourthly--I’m realizing that I have more points here than I thought--Rachel’s a fidgeter. This isn’t really explicitly stated because the books have such a strict length limit that they’re usually really cut down to the bare bones, but there’s one place where body language is pretty reliably described: barn meetings. Marco is usually sacked out on a convenient chair, Tobias in the rafters, Cassie doing work, Jake either standing or sitting. But Rachel’s a pacer. She’s repeatedly described as pacing, and if she’s not, if she’s sitting with someone, it’s for narrative reasons. She’s sitting near Marco? She’s going to smack him, or challenge him to an arm wrestling contest for the dangerous mission, whatever. She’s sitting near Cassie? That’s supposed to say something about her emotional state.

Fifth, Rachel bores easily. And I mean real easily. In the Oatmeal Book, she talks about claustrophobia, but one of the things she complains about the most often is being alone in the dark with her thoughts. For me, that’s the worst thing about insomnia--the inside of my head is only enough to keep my attention for so long, and then I start to lose it, and yeah, it feels like a panic attack, it would be easy to lump in with external claustrophobia. When she’s taking a day off from school, she only lasts a few hours watching trash TV before she bails out to go flying--this is also related to the fidgeting thing above (7). When she has nightmares, she gets up and leaves the house. When Rachel morphs prey animals or motion-attracted predators like cats, it’s easy for her to get lost in the rapid-change thought patterns. I can’t think of a single time where Rachel gets put on surveillance alone--not because she’s not good at surveillance, but because she can’t be relied on not to get distracted.

I could come up with some other things, but these five plus the idle descriptions she throws around about ‘racing thoughts’ and ‘I lost my temper and I just couldn’t think anymore’ would get her an ADHD screen from any respectably competent therapist. Throw in “incredibly high performing academically but with some disciplinary issues” (13 and 5 respectively) and “exhibits suicidally reckless impulses even in non-battle life” (literally every other book), and she’s a shoo-in.

The short version here is that my headcanon that Rachel has severe ADHD is summed up by two books: 12 and 32.

In 32, the two Rachels are both poster children for ADHD--Mean Rachel is impulsive, loud, temperamental, unfocused, and generally uncooperative (you and I all know the stereotypes come from somewhere, a lot of people who manifest ADHD like that are pretty uncooperative, and I say that as one of them), and Wimp Rachel is just as temperamental on the other side of the spectrum, forgetful, easily distracted, genuinely scared of her own impulses and intrusive thoughts, and, you guessed it, kind of uncooperative (again, the stereotypes come from somewhere). You don’t put those two people together and get one non-ADHD person, you put them together and get a person whose symptoms have settled out to a degree of homeostasis.

And in 12, beyond all the really impulsive shit Rachel does and the way she approaches everything from the angle of “this is my fault because I’m not in control of myself,” which, oh my god, honey, same, but no it’s not, Cassie morphs Rachel. And what does Cassie say about being in Rachel’s head?

“I’m having the worst time trying to control this morph!”

“You’re having trouble being me? What could be hard about that?”

“It’s this brain of yours. It keeps trying to make me do really dumb things.”

#animorphs #rachel berenson #adventures in adhd #rachel my bold beloved bloodied sister #i'm RIDE OR FUCKING DIE GUYS #this is way longer than i meant it to be #but my point fucking STANDS #QUOD ERAT DEMONSTRATUM MOTHERFUCKERS #RACHEL HAS ADHD #IT IS F A C T #honestly i relate to rachel so much #but i'm pretty sure this is not just rampant projection on my part #this is canonically supported #anyway yeah that's what i've got #idiot teenagers with a queue #miraculoussparrow #asked and answered

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duhragonball · 6 years

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (76/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[7 March 234 Before Age. Nat-Chezz II.]

"Saiyan maggot!" Ünderlyne snarled. "Have you learned nothing from the defeat of your kin? Your power doesn’t begin to compare to ours!"

"I’ve noticed," Luffa said, smiling excitedly. "I sensed the two of you from orbit. Very impressive. Let’s do this."

Nat-Chezz II had fallen to a pair of alien invaders less than twenty-four hours ago. The fighters who had pledged to defend the planet had failed. Stryquethru and Ünderlyne seemed to be completely unbeatable, to the point where surrender had been the only sane option. The pair wasted no time in celebrating their bloodless conquest by staging a ball in the palace of the Chezzi King.

And then Luffa arrived to confront them.

"Have a care, Saiyan!" Ünderlyne warned. "The power we possess will reduce you to a cinder! Beg for our mercy, or we shall annihilate you instantly!"

"Maybe you don't understand how this works," Luffa said. She balled her fists and threw back her head as she transformed. Like all Saiyans, Luffa had dark hair and a tail covered in brown fur. These suddenly changed to a luminescent yellow, and her eyes flashed as they became a menacing shade of bright green. She extended her arm toward the couch the invaders were sitting on, and pointed at each of them.

"I'm going to fight you now," she said with a twisted grin. Get up and let's get down to business!"

They looked at each other and exchanged confused looks. At last Ünderlyne said: "Perhaps this Saiyan does not realize the full extent of our power, my lady. We must summon our full might to show just how far beyond her we truly are!"

Luffa was growing impatient. "No, I get it, you're both stronger than me. I'm excited, really. Let's hurry up and fight. If you don't mind, I'd like to take you on one at a time. You know, just to make this last longer. But if you're more comfortable working as a team, I can adjust."

Stryquethru was visibly disturbed to hear this. "What is wrong with you? You admit we're stronger, yet you still want to fight us?!"

"Okay, enough of this crap," Luffa said. "I was hoping you two were just as anxious to test your powers as I am, but it doesn't really matter. I'm going to start hitting you as hard as I can. If I were you, I'd start thinking about hitting back."

With that, she started to yell, gathering her power as her aura raged like a tempest. Most of the people in the hall ran for their lives, while a few took cover and looked on in terror.

And then suddenly, Luffa stopped yelling, and she drew back her fist. "Ready or not!" she shouted.

"No! Wait! I give up!" Stryquethru cried.

"You what?" Luffa asked.

Stryquethru got up from the sofa and fell to her knees. "You win! We give up! Don't kill us!"

"Stryquethru, don't be a fool!" Ünderlyne scolded. "This Saiyan is only bluffing!"

"But what if she's not?!" Stryquethru asked. "If she's really this powerful..."

"It matters not, my pet!" Ünderlyne said. "For we are stronger still! This Saiyan won't dare attack us--ARRRRRGH!"

Without warning, a bolt of green light burst through one of the large, stained glass windows of the hall, and struck Ünderlyne somewhere beneath the folds of her black cloak. She fell off the sofa and started twitching.

"I told her to stay out of this," Luffa muttered. "Sorry about that. My wife is kind of over-protective. I told her I was going to fight you two and she got a little nervous. I guess it was because you were so much stronger than... wait a minute."

She looked down at Stryquethru, as though seeing her for the first time. "What happened to your ki?" she asked. "It's like you turned into a wimp all of a sudden."

"Please, spare us!" Stryquethru whined. "It was all a deception! We have the ability to manipulate ki perception! That way we make ourselves appear to be more powerful than we really are, and our opponents don't dare to challenge us."

Luffa considered this for a moment as she looked at Ünderlyne convulsing on the floor. Then she gently tapped her finger against Stryquethru's shoulder, and she collapsed, clutching her arm in agony.

"You're telling the truth!" Luffa said. "You idiots! I was ready to come at you with my full power! I could have killed you!"

"Wuh-we never expected any...one to call our bluff!" Ünderlyne whimpered. "Our illusion makes us seem unbeatable! Who would want to fight a superior opponent with no hope of winning?!"

Luffa opened her mouth to answer. She wanted to say that any proud Saiyan would eagerly accept the challenge, even at the risk of death. Then she remembered that there had been other Saiyans to greet these invaders, and they had apparently given up without a fight.

So instead she said nothing, and went to find the Chezzi king to inform him that his planet had been saved.

*******

[8 March 234 Before Age. Nat-Chezz II.]

"If any of you had thrown a single punch at either of them," Luffa said, "you would have exposed their trick instantly! Those women weren't invaders, they were con artists. Tricksters!"

In spite of her disappointment in them, she had cooked a meal for the group, and was now serving it to them while she critiqued their performance. They took the food and ate, but none of them seemed to relish the experience, and no one was in a hurry to speak up.

"Hijik," Luffa said. "I would have thought you would have caught on. You've been accusing me of being an impostor Super Saiyan. The king tells me you were convinced that Stryquethru and Ünderlyne were me and Zatte in disguise! You're just about the most suspicious man I've ever met, but you didn't see through this?"

Hijik shrugged without looking at her. "They were so strong," he said. "And they weren't going to hurt us. I figured there was nothing to lose."

"Nothing to lose?!" Luffa snapped. "What about your pride as a warrior?! They were going to use you all as breeding stock!"

Hijik shook his head. "I should have known they didn't mean it. All you women are alike. You make demands, tease us with the promise of sex, but you always find a way to back out at the last minute."

Luffa grabbed him by the throat and yanked him out of his chair. Before he could react, she struck him in the torso several dozen times, then tossed him to the ground.

"Get the hell off this planet," she said. "I've had enough of your paranoid fantasies. You're a waste of Saiyan blood."

Hijik coughed as he recovered from Luffa's beating. He looked up at her bitterly, as if to remind her that the feeling was mutual. Then he leaped into the air and flew away.

Zaperc watched him go, but said nothing.

"Is that it then?" Lesseri asked. "You're firing us? I think I'd rather skip the lecture then, if that's all right with you, Supe."

"You didn't even show up to face them, Lesseri," Luffa growled. "You sent Vigurd to prep the ship so you two could abandon your comrades and your duty to this planet!"

"I only had one 'duty', sister," Lesseri said with a laugh. "And I did it. Helping you losers tackle a pair of aliens was never part of my plan."

"The Chezzi forensics team found traces of explosives in the wreckage," Luffa said. "Vigurd's death was no accident. You're going to tell me why you did it, or I'll pull the answers out of your mind. Your choice."

Lesseri laughed again. "Why should I keep it a secret?" she said. "Yeah, I killed Vigurd. I've been plotting to kill her for years. I only joined this outfit so I could get close to her and find the right opportunity. I was afraid you might save her, Luffa, but then you and your wife went on that trip to Tingi V, and I knew I had my chance. The invasion made it perfect. I knew Vigurd would be in too big a hurry to escape. She'd never bother waiting for the rest of us, and she'd certainly never think to run a pre-flight sensor check for any hazardous substances on board.

Zaperc hung his head as he listened to her confession. Lesseri seemed to enjoy his reaction. "That's right, old man. I never cared about your stupid movement. I doubt Vigurd did either. She was a coward who probably only threw in with you because it was easier than going it alone."

"You talk about cowardice, Lesseri," Luffa said, "but I notice you didn't bother to challenge Vigurd to a fair fight."

Lesseri laughed again. "I wanted to kill her, not defeat her," she said. "If I had challenged and lost, she might have killed me first, or run away before I could get my chance to finish her off. I didn't want her to realize what I was up to until it was too late."

"Why?" Luffa asked. "What did Vigurd ever do to you?"

Lesseri looked her straight in the eye and smiled. "You heard what she said before. About how she abandoned her brats at a gestation facility. As I recall, you didn't approve of that very much."

"I don't," Luffa said coldly. "But that's no reason to kill--"

"I was one of the brats," Lesseri said with a snort. "She thought they were twin boys, but we were actually girls, which shows how little she cared. She had no idea I was her daughter, and I made sure to keep it that way right up to the end."

Luffa was speechless, which seemed to make the moment even more enjoyable for Lessri. "Nothing to say, Super Saiyan? You don't have some snappy lecture about the honor of motherhood? Vigurd left me to fend for myself, and I made sure she died the same way I grew up: confused and alone. I betrayed Zaperc, and you, and this planet, but so what? It all worked out in the end anyway. So go ahead! Beat me to a pulp! Kill me! Do whatever your old fashion morality tells you! I've got my satisfaction, and I was prepared to die for it, so do whatever you think is best."

Lesseri leaned back in her seat and put her hands behind her head as she waited, but Luffa didn't move. She glared at Lesseri, but took no action.

"Fine," Lesseri said. She stood up and started to walk away from the group. "I'll take that as my cue to leave. Thanks for your help, everyone."

Luffa waited until she was gone, then regained her composure. "Where's Jikama?" she asked.

"You're just letting her go?" Brockle asked.

"Where's Jikama?" Luffa repeated.

"No worries!" Bodi said as he adjusted his sunglasses. "Jikama contacted us last night. He had a meeting with the Chezzi King, but promised to be here as soon as he could."

Luffa held out her hands in resignation. "Fine. Fine. Let's talk about you, Bodi. You tried to get the invasion rescheduled until the night of the full moon."

"Uh... they didn't agree to my terms," he said.

"Would you like to walk into my fist next week, Bodi?" Luffa asked. "Would lunchtime work for you?"

He seemed to take her point, and tugged at the collar of his blue tunic.

"I haven't turned into a giant Ape in years," Luffa said. "It might not be safe for me to use the form anymore, but more importantly, a lot of planets don't have moons big enough to trigger the transformation! And the ones that do aren't reliable either! You might have to wait months or even years for a full moon, and then a cloudy sky could ruin everything!"

"It's worked well--" Bodi began to say, but Luffa cut him off.

"In setpiece battles!" she said. "When you've got hundreds of individually weaker enemies to mow down. Then you can play cat-and-mouse, and lure them into a position where you can overwhelm them in the Oozaru form."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and smiled. "Very well," he said. "For the next invasion, we should get an army to land on Nat-Chezzi! Then I'll show the ladies just what Bodi can really do!"

"You still don't get it!" Luffa said. "You're here to defend a single planet! You don't get the luxury of picking who to fight, or where, or when! That's the whole challenge, Bodi!"

"I see," Bodi said. He had said the same thing the last seven times someone had explained it to him. Luffa was beginning to think would never understand. She wanted to kick him out of the group, but she wasn't really sure that he was ever really in the group to begin with. Sooner or later he'd just move on, so she resolved to ignore him.

Besides, there wasn't much of a group left to kick Bodi out of. All she had left were Zaperc, his son Brockle, and Jikama.

"This is a waste of time," Luffa said. "I can't help these people, Zaperc."

"The fault is mine, Luffa," Zaperc said. "I accepted whatever followers I happened to find, but at the time I was basing my teachings on The Luffa Way. Now that I know the book is a fraud, and now that I've trained with the real you--!"

"You think other Saiyans will flock to your movement?" Luffa asked. "Don't be ridiculous. You failed just as badly as the others. You were so worried about your son's safety that you forgot to fight." She gestured to Brockle. "And he takes all his cues from you, apparently. You talk tough, Brockle, but only if your dad thinks you can win."

Brockle crossed his arms and looked away from Luffa like a petulant child.

"Luffa," Zaperc asked. "Could I speak to you alone?"

*******

Inside the mansion the Saiyans had been using for a base, Luffa took a seat in front of Zaperc's desk. "All right, spit it out, Zaperc," she said.

"I want to apologize for my son. He's been very insolent towards you and your woman."

"Accepted," Luffa said.

"You probably think I coddle the boy," he said. "That I should have taught him some manners before he became too strong for me to handle."

Luffa rolled her eyes. "He's not the rudest Saiyan I've ever met, Zaperc. "Thought that isn't saying much. He's only called me a whore twice."

"You must understand that he's very special," Zaperc said.

"Of course. He's your son."

"No, it's more than that. He had a tremendous potential since the day he was born. I've always known that he was destined to do great things. That is why I've devoted my life to supporting his development into a mighty warrior. That is why I wanted him to learn from you."

"Is there a point to this, Zaperc?" Luffa asked.

"I would ask you to teach my son your power," he said in a reverent tone.

"What?"

"Your transformation," he said. "I want you to make him into a Super Saiyan."

"That's... that's ridiculous!" Luffa said. "I've been trying to teach him this whole time. The Shiei Fist, remember? He won't listen to me."

"That's because what he really wants to know is how to be what you are," Zaperc said. "Invincible. Unbeatable. The ultimate warrior."

"He thinks I'm a freak," she said. "But if he could do it, suddenly that makes it okay?"

"If you can show him how to become a Super Saiyan," Zaperc said, "then you could teach others! The Saiyans would have to acknowledge you then! They would hail you as a hero who showed them the road to even greater glory!"

She stood up and began to pace around the room. "I don't even know if it can be taught," she said. "It's not like the Galick Gun. It's not a technique I developed and refined. It just... happened."

"You're a fighting genius," Zaperc said. "And you've had this ability for at least three years. Surely you've gained some insight that can be passed on."

"What about the legends?" Luffa asked. "Chanisp and Old Darbock and the rest. If I can show someone how to do it, then why didn't they?"

"Perhaps they lacked the right student," Zaperc suggested.

"Your son won't listen to me," Luffa said. "I doubt he'd listen to Chanisp, for that matter. Why should I waste my time?"

"Think of the possibilities," Zaperc pleaded. "You have no rival in the universe. Even if you find another warrior to challenge you, you'll just overcome him as you surpassed the Shockmaster, and you'll be back where you started. But if there were other Super Saiyans, constantly working to surpass you..."

Luffa closed her eyes and made a rather wistful smile. "It'd be something, wouldn't it?" she asked. "All right, maybe it's worth a try. I'll need some time to think this through. I have no idea how to put it into words."

"Of course. Brockle and I will await your summons."

*******

"I knew we couldn’t beat them head on," Jikama said. "Even if we all worked together, so I started gathering supplies and preparing for an underground resistance."

Zatte looked up and down the walls of the cavern and made a low whistle. "Very impressive, Jikama. You’d still have a long way to go, but this is a great start for just one afternoon of work."

"I dug this one in a hurry," he said. "I figured everyone would he so busy fighting that they wouldn’t stop to wonder what I was doing using my ki out here in the middle of nowhere. Once I had the tunnels laid out the way I wanted, I headed for the mansion and grabbed as many supplies as I could find."

"Luffa will be impressed," Zatte said.

Jikama smiled. "No, she probably won’t," he said, "but it’s nice of you to say so."

"Yeah, but this reminds me a lot of the story she told me of the last Super Saiyan, Chanisp," Zatte said. He found a place to train in secret, and finally turned the tables on his enemies."

"Maybe so," Jikama said, "but I’ll probably never be that strong. I’ll keep trying to get there, but until I do, I’m better off using my head, like you showed me."

"Well, for what it’s worth, I think we’re leaving Nat-Chezz II in good hands," she said. "Unless you’re planning to run off and join another gang of Saiyans."

"I think I’ve had enough of outer space," he said. "I only went looking for Saiyans because of my father."

"You were trying to find him?" she asked.

"No, he died in a battle not long after I born," he said. "I never knew him. I sort of hoped that if I lived with other Saiyans, went on the kinds of adventures Saiyans have, that I’d understand him better."

He looked around at the cavern. "Zatte, can I ask you something? You know Saiyans pretty well, right? From living with Luffa, I mean."

"I wouldn’t call myself an expert," Zatte said. "But I know a few things, sure."

"Do you think my father would be proud of me?" he asked. "If he could see me now."

She screwed up her face as she tried to formulate an answer. "I don’t know," she finally said. "Luffa killed her own father after he betrayed her. Then again, Zaperc seems pretty supportive of Brockle. I think it really depends on the person, but the bar seems pretty low, at least the way I see it."

"Yeah," Jikama said. "It doesn’t matter anyway. Everything I’ve accomplished, all the things I’m going to do, well, they were for me as much as they were for him. I’m going to protect this planet and my mother’s people, no matter what anyone else would think about it."

Zatte patted him on the shoulder.

*******

Hours later, Luffa met with Zaperc and Brockle on the peak of a mountain. "You want me to teach your son to become a Super Saiyan?" she said. "Are you sure you know what you’re asking?"

"Yes!" Zaperc said. "Please."

Luffa balled up her fists and transformed. The golden aura raged around her body like an otherworldly storm. Her cold green eyes stared at Brockle as though gazing directly into his soul.

"What about it, boy?" she said. "Is this what you want? It’s not just power, you know. Once you cross the threshold, nothing will ever be quite the same."

Brockle looked to his father, then back to Luffa. "I...I’m ready!" he said.

"You’ll have to suffer for this, Brockle!" she warned him. "You’ll have to pay a terrible price to become what I am. They didn't write about that in any damn book."

"Anything!" he shouted. "I’ll do whatever you ask!"

"Your father," she said in a low voice. "He will have to die."

"Wh-what?!" Zaperc gasped.

Brockle snorted as he turned towards him. He raised his hand and charged it with his ki. Zaperc was too stunned to defend himself.

"Then so be it!" Brockle laughed. He brought down his hand with blinding speed, and with a destructive force sufficient to tear through solid steel.

And then it stopped, just short of Zaperc’s neck. There, Luffa had blocked Brockle’s strike with a single finger.

"Stand down, boy," she said.

"What?!" Brockle asked. "What are you--?!"

Luffa frowned at him. "I told you to stand down."

"But I did what you told me!" Brockle whined. "You were testing me! To see if I would really do it!"

"And you failed," Luffa said grimly. "Now power down, before I--"

"I did what you told me, you stupid bitch!" he howled. "You said I had to kill this useless dolt, and I would have, if you hadn’t stopped me!"

Zaperc backed away from them. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he could tell that Brockle was making things worse. "Son, don’t--"

But Brockle was too angry to listen to anyone now. "You’re afraid, aren’t you?!" he growled, pointing his finger accusingly at Luffa’s face. "You know that if I had the secret I’d surpass you! And I would! I’d beat you, and then I’d show you what a real Super Saiyan can--"

In a flash, Luffa had taken his arm and twisted it behind his back into a hammerlock. Brockle wailed in agony as she cinched the hold.

"Oh, I’m just terrified," Luffa said.

Brockle tried to hit her with his free arm, but Luffa’s body was so small that he couldn’t get reach her. As she was strong enough to maintain the hold with only one hand, Luffa used the other to torque Brockle’s wrist, adding to his torment.

He wailed in pain.

"So this is what a real Super Saiyan can do," she said. "I had no idea this world even existed."

Brockle's shoulder blade was scraping against his rib cage, but the sound was drowned out by his pathetic cries.

"Don’t hurt me, Brockle," Luffa said coldly. "I beg you."

He squealed as she applied more pressure. Then she suddenly released his arm and wrapped her arms around his waist. Before he could react, she pulled him backward, launching him over her body and releasing him as he collided with the ground. So great was the impact that Brockle’s body had formed a crater.

Luffa rose to her feet and pointed at him. "When he wakes up, you tell him to think long and hard before he ever faces me again," she said to Zaperc. "Because the next time he pisses me off, I’ll kill him."

She snapped her fingers to indicate how easily she could carry out her threat.

"I don’t understand!" Zaperc said.

"I can’t teach your son," Luffa said. "That’s all there is to it. I had to figure out what it was that made me this way, and it's not something I can teach. It's not something he can learn."

"But why not?" Zaperc asked. "Please, at least tell me that!"

Luffa looked down at Brockle. "I can’t teach him to become a Super Saiyan, because to do that I’d have to kill you," she said. "I’d have to torture you to death while he watches, completely unable to stop me."

Zaperc took a deep breath. "You said I must die, but when he tried to kill me you stopped him."

"Because he thought I wanted a sacrifice," Luffa said. "That’s not it at all. The point is that he has to experience a loss so heartfelt and painful that his body will have no choice but to transform."

"But he was already humiliated by Styquethru and Ünderlyne," Zaperc said.

"I’m not talking about pride," Luffa shouted. "If all it took was a wounded ego and a dead parent, every Saiyan male in the universe would have ascended a long time ago!" She pointed at her face. "Look at me! Do you think I tried to turn into this thing? That I just did a bunch of pushups and tensed up a certain spot on my back?! No."

"Then what was it?" Zaperc asked. "What did you have that Brockle lacks?"

"Compassion," Luffa said.

"What?!" Zaperc was so confused now that he started to laugh. "That makes no sense!"

"I didn’t understand it either at first," Luffa admitted. "I had already been defeated, already suffered a lot worse than Brockle ever has, but it wasn’t until I was worried about someone else... And then I remember becoming furious at myself for being so helpless."

"Then that’s why you’ve been protecting planets all over the galaxy!" Zaperc said. "To become even stronger!"

"No, I do it because it’s the only way I can find a worthwhile challenge," Luffa said. "And also because I know what it’s like to be helpless. I sympathize with people like the Chezzi. I was hoping that maybe you could learn to sympathize with them too, but I was wrong."

"No!" Zaperc said. "It can still work! I was right to come here, Luffa. I was imitating your methods without knowing their purpose, but now I see! Once I explain it to Brockle, I’m sure he can--"

Luffa snarled and waved her arm, pushing Zaperc away with the force of her ki. "Don’t you get it?!" she shouted. "Brockle doesn’t care about this planet or its people! He never cared. He doesn’t care about anyone or anything but himself! He’d kill you just for a chance to have this power, but that’s not how it works."

Her hands started to tremble. She turned away from Zaperc and crossed her arms tightly to steady them.

"He’s so ruthless that he’d kill his own father, even though you’ve spent your whole life trying to support him. If your death wouldn’t stir those emotions inside him, then I don't know what will. I can’t teach him, Zaperc. No one can."

"One of the others then," Zaperc suggested, desperate to find a solution. "Perhaps Bodi is soft-hearted enough to--"

"Even if he were," Luffa said. "I’d have to hurt him in a way I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. Brockle might have been willing to kill you, Zaperc, but I’m not. You remind me too much of my own father... or at least the man I wanted him to be."

She started to walk away, and Zaperc moved to follow her. Heedless of the danger, he reached out and grabbed Luffa by the arm.

"Luffa, please!" he begged. "You can’t just keep this secret to yourself! Think of our people! The Saiyan race could do incredible things with your power!"

Luffa looked at him sadly, then shook her head. "Take care of your boy, Zaperc," she said. "He should learn to be worthy of the power he already has. That should keep you both occupied for a while."

She shook him loose, and then flew away, leaving him with far more questions than answers.

*******

Luffa wasted little time making her departure from Nat-Chezz. She boarded her star-yacht, confirmed Zatte’s presence on board, and ordered the ship’s computer to lift off and set course for the nearest starport. Then she went to the hot tub on the observation deck. She removed her boots, but didn’t bother undressing any further before immersing herself up to her nose in hot water.

Just as she was beginning to forget her troubles, Zatte entered the room.

“Well look who dropped in,” she said in an icy voice. Luffa suddenly found herself wishing she lived on a much larger starship. In another galaxy.

They had argued for most of the previous night. Their return trip from Tingis V had been fraught with complications, and the invasion they had found on Nat-Chezz had strained their morale further, and then Luffa’s farce of a battle with Stryquethru and Ünderlyne. Luffa had told Zatte to remain in orbit with the ship, but instead she had participated in the battle, albeit with a sniper rifle four miles away. The revelation that Strykethru and Ünderlyne were never a threat to anyone should have broken the tension, but somehow it had only made things worse.

In hindsight, Luffa wasn’t sure if she had taken her frustration with the Saiyans out on Zatte, or if she had taken her frustration with Zatte out on the Saiyans.

“The least you could do is say hello to your wife when you come on board,” Zatte said. “Or are we still not speaking to each other?”

“Hello,” Luffa said wearily as she lifted her head out of the water to speak.

Zatte put her fists on her hips and stared down at her. “Is that all?” she asked.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you last night,” Luffa added.

“And?”

Luffa smiled in spite of herself. “You were right to shoot Ünderlyne,” she said. “It was a beautiful shot too. Did you use the gamma scope or the AI model?”

Zatte’s frown melted away and she disrobed, revealing her swimsuit with “Super Saiyan Club President” printed on the front. “Move over,” she said as she entered the tub.

“I really hate that suit,” Luffa groaned.

“I know you do,” Zatte said. “I put it on because I was still mad at you, but if you keep saying nice things about my fieldcraft skills, I might change into something else.”

“Zaperc wanted me to teach his boy how to turn into a Super Saiyan,” Luffa said.

“I’m gonna guess it didn’t work,” Zatte said.

“Bullseye. You’re a crack shot even without a gun.”

“I’m sorry things went so badly with those guys,” Zatte said. “I really wanted you to be able to reconnect with your people.”

“They seemed so... small to me,” Luffa said. “I kept trying to get them to see the bigger picture, but they just couldn’t let go of their petty self-interests. I guess I used to be like that. Back on Dorlu Prime, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Zatte said. “But I always got the feeling you only acted like a big jerk because you thought you were supposed to. Like, you were afraid you’d turn into a Dorlun if you didn’t carry yourself a certain way.”

“Huh. And now?”

“You’ve been on your own so long that you’ve become your own person,” Zatte said. “It’s liberating, but it kind of leaves you exposed. If people don’t like it, you take it harder than if you were pretending to be something else.”

“I’m really sorry for last night, Zattie. I trust you, but I don’t want you getting hurt because of me, either. It’s hard for me to know where to draw the line.”

“Same here,” Zatte admitted. “I would have stayed put like you asked, but I kept worrying that those two would be more than you could handle.”

“We should have just said that to each other last night,” Luffa said. “Would have saved us a lot of hassle.”

“Better late than never,” Zatte said. “We’ve grown a little since yesterday. Brockle might seem small to you now, but he just needs more time to grow. Maybe he’ll become a Super Saiyan on his own some day.”

“Maybe,” Luffa said. “At least Jikama’s got a good head on ”his shoulders. Nat-Chezz should be in good hands, at least.”

Zatte made a puzzled face. “I didn’t think you gave him that much credit.”

Luffa shrugged. “As a Saiyan, no. But I’m not too impressed with Saiyans right now, so that works to his favor. He was worried about whether his father would be proud of him, but his old man was probably a creep like Brockle or Hijik, so it doesn’t really matter. Once he figures that out, he ought to do just fine.”

“Yeah,” Zatte said. “I think you’re right.”

NEXT: My Dinner with Rehval

#dragon ball #fanfiction #lssjluffafic #super saiyan #luffa #zatte #zaperc #brockle #bodi #lesseri #jikama #hijik #stryquethru #ünderlyne #yeah uh ünderlyne #so she died in this chapter #sorry to all her fans #nat-chezz ii #i've been looking forward to this chapter for a long time and i buried the important part under a goofy villain with formatted dialogue

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