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snowflake-of-destruction · 2 years

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Rebirth

Adam Appreciation Week 2022. Day One. Celebrations.

A week after the funeral beef Adam had shown up at Crazy Rock back in his Matador of Love costume, or, at least a version of it. Pristine white, from the mask with only raised, textured ghosts of its usual hearts and whorls to the boots that only kept their unblemished lack of color due to the red carpet he still demanded be rolled out before him. It could have been said that he struck a figure like an avenging angel, but if that were the effect the God of S was going for, all assembled knew he would have gone more flamboyant and strictly biblical with several sets of widespread wings and a multitude of eyes. The crowd would still have to be told not to be afraid.

The board he carried was pure white as well. A blank state–which also happened to be his true intended motif.

A snap of long, thin fingers had the capmen handing out permanent markers from a previously unseen stash, and Adam invited the skaters of S to use him as their graffiti wall. “Mark upon me your true feelings,” he intoned like a king giving a decree. “Tell me the story of the man you see. Hold nothing back.”

It had the feel of a trick. Nobody wanted to be the first to comply and all found themselves trying to think of verses of appropriately effusive praise that might have them win some good will instead of sent to the bottom of a ravine if they were forced to come forward.

Well, more accurately it was almost all who reacted as such. Lord Cherry Blossom was reported to have asked his skateboard to list common insults in various foreign cultures and languages.

It took more urging to get the proceedings started. The skaters were given permission to use anything they wished, not just the markers, to make an impression. They were even encouraged by the Matador to hit him and let his blood stain his uniform. “I’ll take it as a sign of love. Please love me how I deserve to be loved. This is your chance,” Adam challenged.

Eventually the braver in the crowd came forward. None present struck the matador, but there was a mix of praise and insults drawn upon him.

Reki Kyan heaped damp dirt on his head until the mud weighed down the spikes of Adam’s hair and half dripped, half crumbled onto his shoulders, though very little actually made it onto his costume. The redhead declared it “My favorite look for you,” before stepping back, but also added, “It might be kind of cool to skate together again sometime when it’s better weather. More fair. More fun.” with a shy smile that seemed equally likely to be an attempt at flirtation as a waver of lingering trepidation around the matador.

Six Pack Skater Joe though was the one that stole the night, as per usual, when he borrowed a tube of bold “Photo-Op Fuschia” lipstick from one of the girls clinging to his arms, which he pulled quite well when he applied it to plant lipmarks on Adam’s collar, both shoulder epaulets, and over his heart.

Lord Cherry Blossom took the lipstick after Joe, and there was a smattering of whispers from both skaters’ fans debating whether this counted as a “Joecherry indirect kiss for the kiss list,” but he didn’t end up applying it. He rolled the lipstick out as far as it would go and then smashed and smeared it across Adam’s torso while whispering something in his ear that made the matador pale almost to the level of his costume but then grin wolfishly and nod. Lord Cherry then patted Adam’s cheek before turning away. Joe was heard pressing the AI skater to reveal what he’d whispered, which soon devolved into a fight between the two legends, but Cherry revealed nothing but that Joe was an “Uncouth Gorilla fit only for a circus” which most assembled already knew.

Snow took his time and used the marker, writing what seemed to be an entire letter on Adam’s back and telling him not to peek until he got home. Other skaters did their part to peek on Adam’s behalf and to satiate their own curiosity, but the clumsy kanji proved completely illegible even before other people wrote over it.

It was a strange ceremony, but several would describe it as cathartic after–obviously it was so to Adam–and much stranger had happened at S.

Afterward, Adam declared himself reborn and baptized, and the next year there was the Birthday Tournament with entrants required to offer gifts aside from whatever they decided to wager with their opponents. The factory was decorated, and banners at the top of the mountain as well as the finish line declared Happy Birthday to Adam. There were papercrafts since he was turning one year old, as he kept reminding everyone. There was a ball pit filled with hearts of all sizes, some of which were plush, some traditional rubber not-quite-ball-shaped balls, and some of which were poppable balloons to represent the fragility of life and surprises contained within. And, naturally, there were several types of cake, bewilderingly enough provided by Joe. Snake, who had taken a place among the top skaters at Crazy Rock, wore a ribbon around his neck, and a few other skaters were seen with matching armbands that marked them as presents.

Adam’s birthday became the only holiday S formerly recognized and lasted as Crazy Rock tradition long after the matador himself once again stopped coming to the hill–at least for a few years after the birth of his son–but the original celebration of his new life became something like urban legend, a nice story, but bizarre and unlikely to be truth that the old-timers nodded over. You had to be there.

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