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some-dr-writings · 4 years

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Kokichi, Rantaro, and Shuichi x SHSL Military General Reader

Kokichi Oma:

· The Super High School Level Military General, that title sounded to be a mere invitation for a challenge to Kokichi. The moment he heard of you, your reputation of being so cold and distant, more stoic and silent than even stone, he knew you were his next target. He was determined to get you to crack that façade somehow!

· There was just one problem.

· No matter what he pulled you always either didn’t react, or effortlessly avoided it. You had to have some weakness. He just needed to snuff it out! And so that was how Kokichi began to follow you. The moment you exited class he’d be there to greet you at the door with some prank, after which he’d momentarily complain about how you were emotionless in a joking tone before hugging your arm talking nonstop about anything and everything that slipped through his mind. Not once did you ever utter a word or make a sound during these encounters.

· One day after class you sat in the library, studying for an upcoming test. “Ugh, Y/N, this is soooo boring. We don’t even need to study at this school, just improve our talents. What are you dooooing?” You simply jotted down some notes before flipping to the next page in the textbook. Groaning he took out a drawing pad and crayons and started scribbling on it. Loudly humming he worked away, even when in the corner of his eye he saw how you had closed your text book, daintily placing the book onto your lap, your hands properly held atop one another on the cover of the book. “… Give Tojo Kirumi a task in the gym.” “Ah HAH! You do speak!” You stared at him, standing on the table, pointing, his finger touching the tip of your nose. “… Tomorrow is Tuesday. Normally she’d be doing laundry by eight, but yesterday Yasuhiro Taeke, more commonly known as Ludenberg Celestia, will be hosting a card gaming tournament at the behest of the principle since a well renowned group of talent agents will be coming here. Tojo Kirumi will be asked to assist with setting up the hall. In order to get as many of your targets as possible give her a request immediately before nine. That will lead both Yasuhiro Taeke and the talent agents to the sight of your prank and keep Tojo Kirumi from intervening and cleaning up the aftermath too soon after your prank is ignited.” So, a peak into the mind of the SHSL Military General.

· Since that day you would occasionally speak to Kokichi, it was always abrupt and short, but it was always to assist in his scheming and nothing else.

· Eventually Kokichi got bored following you, saying it wasn’t fair that you two only ever did what you wanted so he’d begin to drag you around. You never resisted, not even once. Kokichi didn’t think much of this, just that you likely went along since it was the better option than fighting against it.

· Then he realized that was not the case.

· You and he were meandering around the school festival, Kokichi making fun of the sad horror house effects much to Korekiyo’s chagrin. It was then one of the students from your class told you things had gone array at your booth, and they needed your help. They were about to take your hand and lead you there when you jerked your hand away, a harsh snap sound cracking the air. You look down at them with a cold steelie gaze and in an intimidating, confident voice you said “No.” Then you began to walk away at a brisk pack. “Come now, I know you can keep up.” And that same tone immediately got your classmate to walk in time with you, in your exact stride too. Not long later you returned to the haunted house where Kokichi still was. “Y/A What was that all about? Wait! Hey, hey! That’s your weakness, isn’t it! Tell me, tell me. It’s your weakness! Come on! Just admit it!” You didn’t do a thing for a moment before taking his hand. “Letting one of my soldiers lead the way would be a sign of weakness. The same however can not be stated about the closest thing I have to a friendship with another.” “… Aw~ You think of me as a friend? That’s so sweet!” … closest thing you had to friendship… What exactly was your life like before entering Hope’s Peak, he wondered. He had some guesses… Likely awfully lonely. But that’s exactly why he’s here. Kokichi is a clown, and he was determined still to get a reaction out of you.

· It was strange. For the longest time he thought your stoicism was a façade, but truthfully that was just how you were. It just made the moments when he did get a reaction all the more special and mesmerizing. He wanted to be there to see each and every one of your little reactions. “Hey, Y/N!” He let go of your hand, spinning around and stopping before you. “Want to go out with me?”

· You blushed.

· Your eyes slightly widened, your posture laxed and your hands held the hem of your shirt. “I… l-like a date?” “Nishishi.” Your blush swiftly spread to the tips of your ears as Kokichi took your hands into his own. “Heh, who knew. Honesty is your weakness.” Suddenly he started skipping away, still holding one of your hands. “For a liar like me, this might be difficult but, if being honest with my feelings plucks at your heart strings, I guess I have no choice.” Seemingly out of nowhere Kokichi had a megaphone in hand and held it up to himself before taking a deep breath. “HEY WORLD! I’M IN LOVE WITH Y/N!” “Ah, O-Oma! I- uh Yes? I’d like to go out, b-but…” You covered your face with both of your hands, too embarrassed and loving how Kokichi smiled, continuing to announce his love for you to the world.

· Equal opposites yet exactly the same you and Kokichi seemed to be a reflection of one another. You almost unemotive and Kokichi very emotive. Both of you were fantastic leaders always trying to manipulate the world as to protect your own even if it meant manipulating them too. As the Ultimate Supreme Leader and Ultimate Military General, nothing could stand in your way. You could own the whole world if you wished. Luckily for the world, all you wanted was for all you cared about to be safe and happy. Safe under both of your watchful eyes and happy at the silly shenanigans you’d plan out for your own but mostly other’s amusement. After all the fighting you had been through it was therapeutic to use your skills outside of fighting and perhaps… that was Kokichi’s goal the whole time. Maybe, for as smart and clever as you were, you were outmatched by the emotionally intelligent Kokichi. Whatever his true intentions he had for approaching you that even he possibly didn’t know, you were still together and something you were forced to accept as a Military general is that sometimes it matters not how you reach a goal, just the end result and though that thought often weighed heavily upon you, maybe just this once, a single clown had helped you lift up and carry that burden, even changing it to something lighter. Something with no blood, just tomfoolery. And… after all you had been though, it was like a dream to have it be this way.

Rantaro Amami:

· The pair of you had met only once before joining Hope’s Peak. Rantaro had stumbled upon a training camp you were temporarily heading. Impressed he was even able to make it there since it was near impossible to get through those snowy ranges without a helicopter or some way to just skip over manually trekking through the dangerous terrain, you allowed him to rest for the night after thoroughly checking he didn’t have anything dangerous or was a spy that is. Promptly the moment the sun rose you kicked him out, but he was still appreciative you let him stay at all. So when he saw you at the entrance ceremony he took the opportunity to thank you since you never gave him the chance to back then.

· Since that day whenever Rantaro was at school and not traveling he’d make sure to spend time with you. You never spoke much mostly keeping to yourself or intervening into our class’ affairs should a leader be helpful, even so Rantaro would still chat with you. That was actually something he quite liked about you. The few times you did speak, there was always purpose and power behind it. No matter what was happening, even if you quietly muttered a single short word, you’d instantly garner the attention of all those around you and even if they were preoccupied with something else, you did not need to repeat your words, for they already knew what they were.

· Others always though the two of you to be a strange pair. You were strict and up tight while Rantaro was more relaxed and laid back. Seemingly opposites, yet you did have a common thread. Nurturing. Rantaro, often his big brother instincts would kick in and he’d comfort and help just about anyone, even if he wasn’t all to great at the task at hand. You on the other hand always push those around you to their limit, motivating them to work as hard as they could independently while still being good team players. Rantaro more so focused on being the emotional side or being the rock others could lean on while you were their leader, assisting them in finding the best plan of attack that was most efficient but least costly on materials whether it be monetary or their health, you took all that into consideration as costs. A mentally damaged soldier can’t properly fight with their everything after all.

· Sometimes when Rantaro was planning his next trip away from school you’d join him. “If you cut through the mountains, you’d have a direct path to the town.” “Well… Yeah, but I don’t know. There’s supposed to be wolves there.” “You said the town you’re coming from is known for fishing.” “Yeah.” “Surely one of them would have a boat or shipping route you can hitch a ride on. There’s a large river that cuts through the mountains, unless there’s white rapids I’m sure someone uses it for transport. If not, with your persuasion skills I’m sure you can convince someone to do so.” “Persuasion skills? I don’t know about that, but thanks.” You looked to him with that icy glare, one that would make most anyone flinch, but not Rantaro. His regular demeanor was just so calm and relaxed he was one of the few people who was unaffected by it. “Never doubt yourself. Hesitating for a moment will get you killed.” Rantaro simply smiled with his eyes closed, patting you on the head. “Okay, I won’t. Thank you.” “ah!... don’t, don’t patronize me. We’re friends, don’t treat me of a lower station, we’re equals.” “Huh?” He looked to you in confusion. There was still power in your voice, but did it waver? Your cheeks and tips of your ears were dusted with a bright pink. He retracted his hand. “Sorry, I wasn’t doing that. I forgot you don’t like touch. It’s a habit I guess.” “… Please refrain from doing so in the future. It’s common practice to treat a child in such a way. Not to say children are lower than us, but most often with head pats and that sickeningly sweet tone you took is used for looking down on those younger, those one sees as beneath them… Children are not given enough respect.” “Oh? I don’t look down on my little sisters.” The blush on you face kept darkening as you made unwavering eye contact with Rantaro trying to not show just how flustered you were becoming. “Well, I, I mean… Often people only treat others they see as lower like that, and, I…” You then abruptly stood up. “I need a moment to collect my thoughts.” You then ran off wondering what the hell you were even doing. Meanwhile Rantaro simply smiled watching you as you left. “Cute.”

· As Rantaro thought about it, he did appreciate what you were trying to say. He knew how highly you treated respect, and you give that to children as well… Perhaps you’d be a good person to be around his sisters.

· For all of Rantaro’s life he had always gone with the flow, so it was not surprising that the same happened when getting together with you. Neither of you ever confessed, you just knew you were together and that was that.

· On occasion you’d go with Rantaro on his trips. Though he never had much luck before, Rantaro felt that with you by his side, perhaps he could find his sisters again. With a person as strong and smart and dedicated as you, he was sure you’d come up with some ingenious plan to find them all. If anyone could do it, it would be you. These trips, when these thoughts appeared, it reminded him of all the reasons why he fell for you, how kind and caring you were under that cold exterior. You just always wanted the best for others so should you be separated, you didn’t have to worry about them, because you knew you trained them well to be independent and a team player when needed. You were the best partner he never could have even dreamed of and with you by his side, he felt that just maybe anything was possible.

Shuichi Saihara:

· Shuichi was introduced to you through Kaito. Kaito acted like you and he were the best of friends, but you seemed to be so distant. “Kaito… Are you sure you’re friends?” “Huh? What do you mean, Shuichi? Of course we’re friend’s, just look at how happy they are to be here with me!” You did not even take a glance at him as he draped his arm across your shoulders, pulling you closer, he so brightly smiling. “They’re like Akamatsu and me, a great leader! I actually brought them here to see if they’d take you on as a sidekick as well!” “Soldier.” Shuichi’s breath got caught in his throat hearing that quiet, yet powerful voice. “Yeah, soldier, sidekick, they’re the same for you.”

· Not long after you ended up joining he, Maki and Kaito for their training in the evenings. As the SHSL Military general, he thought it was going to be hell, but… it was not? You gave Maki, Kaito and Shuichi different amounts of push-ups or whatever exercise they had decided to do. Every one of you were pushed to your limit. You’d correct them on their form, but more so, you’d encourage them, saying you knew they could do better and asking that they not disappoint you, which was surprisingly motivating. Though he hadn’t known you for long, he didn’t want to let you down, something about you made him want to do better. Perhaps it was that commanding tone that made him feel he had too or how you were working out with all of them, not taking a break or slowing your impossibly fast pace till everyone was done. Whatever it was, some part of Shuichi wanted to make you proud of him as odd as that may sound.

· You also ended up following Shuichi around. Nothing stalker like. You’d just sit by one another in the library or at lunch. Being more introverted, Shuichi actually rather liked this. Neither of you had to speak much but your friendship still blossomed.

· One day you spoke up. “Shuichi, are you free after school?” “Yeah, I am.” “I’ll meet you at your classroom then.” And you just left. Indeed, when Shuichi left his classroom you were there waiting for him by the door. Locking eyes for a brief moment you began to walk away, and he followed. You lead him out of the school, down streets and alleyways till you arrived at a small building.

· Once inside you were immediately greeted happily by men and women. “Hey, General, who’s this kid. A new friend of yours?” “Yes. A childhood friend of mine introduced us and I was asked to take him under my wing. I believe this place may be useful to him. I’ll be heading to my therapy session now.” With that said you walked up the stairs and left Shuichi behind. “Uh, therapy? What is this place?” It looked to be a large cozy house. There were not too many people about ten or so but most were of different ethnicities or were injured in some way. One of the people sitting at a table eating baked treats approached Shuichi. “A drop-in center. A place for us retired soldiers to gather and… just talk with others with similar experiences. You don’t seem like the Ultimate fighter or anything so a civilian like you must have been through something rough. Come, let’s share some snacks till the General gets back.”

· And there Shuichi was told many a story of the battlefield, stories of you, how you always tried to take as little life while still being realistic. How you’d push everyone to the breaking point but also be tender. War is not kind but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be. “So… what about you?” “Eh- Me?” “Yes, Shuichi. You feel up to sharing your experiences?” “I… I can’t. My problems must sound so trivial compared to what you’ve been through.” “Enough! You never fought in a war but that doesn’t make your pain any less real.” “Exactly. This is a safe space to share any troubles, but if you don’t want too you don’t have to. I know it sure took me a while before I shared any of my stories.” “Well…” And Shuichi told them. About how he got his title, about the look the killer gave him, the guilt he carried on his shoulders, the fear of finding the truth only to cause more pain. And… everyone was so supportive. Some even saying that in some ways they weren’t sure they could deal with what Shuichi had gone through and fighting seemed easier to them. It seemed so surreal to Shuichi. So surreal in fact he didn’t notice you came back down those steps, briefly smiling before sitting in a corner to do your homework.

· It was around dinner time that Shuichi had noticed you and realized how late it had gotten. You both quickly left, not wanting to miss out on Teruteru’s delicious cooking. About a block away from the building, you spoke up. “I go there just about everyday after school. Even if I don’t go, you’re welcome. A drop-in center is for everyone, not just soldiers of war.” Shuichi knew what you were getting at and accepted your offer. It was nice and quiet there. There were different regulars for each day, so conversation never got stale and… it was just so pleasant.

· Eventually after you and Shuichi started going out you were occasionally teased at the Drop-in center, but it was always lighthearted. Some even shared stories of their spouses or past romances.

· With Shuichi’s life seemingly being a rollercoaster, always so fast, loud and busy, he loved being with you. You were able to help him clear his mind. You were one of the few truly stable things in his life. No matter what happened he could always seek your guidance and you’d help to an extent but make sure Shuichi did most of the leg work. And you… truthfully you could say the exact same about Shuichi. He still needed to gain confidence, and independence, but you knew that you could rely on him. Should all the spilled blood seem overbearing, Shuichi would help you out of that dark place. You relied on him just as much as he relied on you. You were truly equal partners and neither of you could want for more from a partner.

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lowat-golden-tower · 7 years

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Out on a Limb

It’s the chapter you’ve all been waiting for. The resolution to the climax and the finale to a fic I never imagined would get so huge. What started out as a silly oneshot idea became a beast all its own, and though it’s been a hassle to wrangle at times, I don’t regret letting it grow to its full potential- wild and crazy as it might be.

It’s kind’ve a tree pun get it cause... nevermind.

The support and love for this fic has been astonishing and appreciated. I never thought so many people would be into it, or into the King’s shenanigans, so count me (and him) happily surprised! As one of Mark’s oldest egos, he really deserves more love, and hopefully I’ve sparked a little something in the community by writing this. Let’s never forget our nutty monarch.

I have to give a final thank you to @angstphilosophy for putting up with me and all the horrible things I did to his favorite ego, and of course @alcordraws for all the inspiration and support. If you aren’t following them yet, go.

So here it is, everybody. Hope you enjoy it, and I’ll see YOU, in the next fanfic. Buh-bye~

AO3 Mirror

Chapter 13: a brand new court

"Is it truly such a loss?"

"Shame on you, Darky. He's been with us since the beginning."

"The Host thinks a certain... something, would be lacking without his presence. When he finds a name for it..."

"Sass awrful."

"He was kinda dumb anyways."

"And he was holding all those poor babies hostage!"

"Wouldn't even consider sellin'em, tha monster."

"Too much, too much, it's too much..."

"I can't believe it's gone! All that work, wasted!"

"Everyone, calm down, this isn't helping."

"The doctor is correct. His chance of survival is extremely low as is."

"Approximately 20.6754%."

"Thank you, Oxnard."

"Should have permitted my assistance... could have helped...."

"I wish there was something I could have done sooner. I could have stopped him."

"Jim, don't. You know that's not possible...."

"...if you're all done going off on your own tangents, I have a suggestion."

The rains had dried up. The clouds retreated. The world was warmed by the sun's rays and gradually, the mess of the back lot was cleaned up. The Googs insisted on lopping off what remained of the walnut tree's shattered trunk, leaving only a short stump as a marker it had ever existed at all. Bim stopped by, shortly after, decorating the stump with some lovely ribbon and a small, handmade plaque. He felt it was the least he could do for the fallen.

Days drifted by. The squirrels, displaced from the home they'd created, milled about the many crawl spaces of Egos, Inc. They could often be spied briefly in any of the numerous rooms, including those belonging to the egos. They never remained in sight for too long.

Except, however, in the clinic. Dr. Iplier had placed all of the babies in a makeshift nest in a secluded, quiet corner and thus many of the squirrels were drawn to the space. He did his best to keep an eye on them and keep them warm, but even with the odd conditions, the squirrels did a decent job of caring for their litters. Host had actually offered to let the babies nest in his library, where it was warmer, quieter and darker. Yet Dr. Iplier had declined.

He felt it was best if the babies stayed near the one non-squirrel they trusted. The person who had risked his life for them on more than one occasion.

Dr. Iplier was still trying to figure out how King of the Squirrels had survived. Between his healing injury, the partial electrocution and being buried beneath the rubble of an entire tree, King should have at least perished. Perhaps not disappeared, but been dead for some time before reviving with help from Mark's community. He was such a small ego with an equally small fanbase, it didn't make sense for him to be strong enough to withstand such abuse.

Yet he remained stable throughout the passing days. Never waking up, but never slipping into a more permanent slumber. He was resting; healing slowly even with assistance from the doctor.

"It's kind've a miracle, you know." Dr. Iplier quietly explained after King had finally opened his eyes. "And I don't really believe in those, but I don't know what else to call this kind of intervention. Mark's community... there was an odd spike in interest, recently. In you. I'm not sure what caused it, but... I have zero doubts the popularity spike resulted in your survival. Something made them remember you, King. And it also made them love you, all over again. I think you're giving Silver a real run for his money on the luck side of things."

Once awake, King still had many days of recovery left. He'd broken bones, dislocated limbs, shattered joints and been punctured more times than a pincushion. The shapes and sizes of wood shrapnel Dr. Iplier had removed from his body were astounding. He'd lost much of the blood he'd regained, and simply moving proved near torturous. Dr. Iplier kept him on heavy medications for a long time.

Gradually, though, he improved. He became more lucid as the drugs were decreased, and he found he could move and even sit up in bed. He started to interact with the squirrels which had been lingering around and was thrilled to discover all of the babies were okay.

"Thrilled" wasn't the same word he'd use to describe his reaction to actually being visited by some of the other egos, but it was close.

Wilford stopped by once, gifting him with peanut butter cups he'd gotten from a fan. Claimed King would just have to drop by for another interview, as the ego who survived being struck by lightning.

Host delivered a book he'd gotten about anthropomorphic squirrels and other rodents questing in a fantasy land. He emphasized it was King's to keep, and even stuck around to read the first few chapters to the ailing monarch.

Mark Bop drifted by with Bing in tow to drop off a CD player and another mix he'd made up. He didn't say much, clearly nervous, but Bing happily exclaimed how "rad" and "gucci" King was for surviving the lightning storm "like a boss." King still wasn't sure how to take it, but it sounded like a compliment.

A small portrait of a squirrel mysteriously appeared at King's bedside one morning, blessedly clear of any creepy red men.

Oliver stopped by often just to chat with King and see how he was doing, and occasionally he brought along the Jims or Bim as well. They always had treats or snacks to indulge him with until Dr. Iplier caught them and chased them out long after visiting hours were over.

It was... strange. King wasn't accustomed to receiving so much attention from anyone besides his subjects. Between the love he could feel swelling within Mark's community and the attentions of his fellow egos, it was almost as if he were healing something else alongside the physical. Something deep inside of him which had been broken and lacking for a very long time.

When King could finally be "discharged," he was approached by Bim in the clinic. He still had a bit of a limp and couldn't exert himself for long periods of time, but he wasn't at risk of collapsing or tearing open any stitches. Curiously, Bim actually looked excited, immediately piqueing King's curiosity.

"King! I'm so happy to see you on your feet again. You had us all really worried for a while there- well, most of us. The important ones." He grinned, gesturing some with his hands as he spoke. "Now, I know you were just released by everyone's favorite medical professional, but I was hoping you could come with me for a bit! Just a bit, I promise, I won't keep you long. You can bring all of your squirrels along, too! And the babies!" A hint of a delighted squeal tinged Bim's tone, drawing out a soft smile from the King. Bim had been utterly smitten with the babies since he discovered them in the clinic.

King was still so tired, but Bim's enthusiasm really couldn't be denied. "...alright, I'll come. But just for a little while. I don't know how long I can be up and about right now." He needed to figure out where he was going to hole up next. He didn't recall any other trees occupying the back lot, and the babies needed somewhere safe to be raised. The clinic just wouldn't do.

Bim clapped his hands together excitedly, beaming. "Great! Fantastic! Grab the babies and we'll be right on our way. Not a second longer than you can stand, I promise!"

King sort of doubted Bim, but he didn't comment on the hastily thrown about promises. Instead, he went to grab the box, cradling it much as he had his own crown that fateful day. The squirrels would have tailed him regardless, but with their babies in tow they followed him a little more adamantly. Several were hitching rides on his shoulders. He didn't mind one bit, and neither did Bim, if his amused smile was anything to go by.

While they walked, Bim navigating the halls of Egos, Inc., King allowed his mind to wonder about what Bim wished to show him so badly. He had no idea where they were going to supplement his imagination, so it ended up running a little wild. At least he knew it wouldn't be anything bad. Bim didn't have the heart for that.

They arrived to a set of doors King didn't recognize at all. They weren't labeled, and the wood was darker in color than the other doors in the building. In fact, the entire frame looked brand new, along with much of the surrounding wall. He blinked owlishly at the sight before turning to Bim with a questioning expression. Even the squirrels were sniffing curiously at the doors, but Bim merely maintained his smile as he set a hand on one of the door handles.

"This was a... well, a group effort. I- we, really hope you like it, King. You deserve it. After... everything." Bim turned the handle and swung open the door, gesturing for King to step through.

Natural light and the blessed smell of fresh air hit King first. More than a few of the squirrels scampered eagerly over the threshold before he could coax his own feet to move. The warmth of summer ensconced him instantly, but it was subdued. Shade cast by the surrounding walls prevented the grassy inner courtyard from becoming too hot.

Egos, Inc. did not have a courtyard. King had lived in its nooks and crannies long enough to know that much. No, this entire space had been cleared out from the very heart of the building. Not just at the ground floor, either. The open air stretched up and up and up until the sky could be seen from above. The sun's gentle rays drifted in, reflecting off the glass windows and dappling the leaves of a massive, California black walnut.

The tree stood tall and strong at the very center of the courtyard. Its trunk was thicker than King's last two trees combined, with its roots running long and deep into the soil. Its boughs almost stretched across the entire expanse of the courtyard and reached more than halfway up the building.

It was a tree which should have taken decades, perhaps even centuries, to grow. A tree which never could have been transferred from one plot of land to another. Not without some physics-breaking abilities involved.

Hell, the entire courtyard must have been the result of just that. Reality had been bent here; molded and shaped to fit the egos' will. King gawked at the sight in absolute awe while his subjects scampered about with a newfound excitement and interest of their own. He was so enthralled by the surprise and his own shock that he failed to realize several more egos had been awaiting his arrival.

"Couldn't get Dark to get off his lazy bum and give us a helping hand, but with some help from Bim I was able to manage. Hosty helped some too. Couldn't have done it so nice and neat without him." Wilford drawled, gesturing to the other two reality benders present. Bim smiled a bit bashfully, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Host was smiling as well, hands clasped lightly together. "They just required a guiding hand. Host wanted to assist, if it meant keeping the King's squirrels out of his library...."

"Sul sul- ah, I mean..." Mark Bop awkwardly cleared his throat, wringing his hands. King wasn't certain if the ego was nervous about him, or the powerful egos in the courtyard. "We didn't really... help, but... Bing and I here, we just... garnar frash. Flarn." He scrubbed a bit at his face. "We wanted to apologize. For trying to force you out of your tree."

Bing didn't look too enthusiastic, but a swift elbow to the ribs from Mark Bop got him speaking up as well. He scratched at the back of his head in obvious irritation, attempting to come off as aloof. "I mean... fuck. Yeah. Sorry, I guess. That I flipped off your tree, and your squirrels. An' told'em to fuck off. That was... lame." He huffed and pouted for a moment, but it dissolved away when he exchanged a brief look with Mark Bop.

"That's why we're here too. I offered to help decorate the space but they told me no." Silver lamented, motioning between Ed Edgar and himself. "I've been meaning to tell you, but... I just couldn't work up the nerve. I'm sorry. I should've asked more questions, and not jumped to conclusions.... You had every right to dump me out of your tree."

"And I guess I... well... sorry. For offerin' ya a gosh darn business venture-" Ed made a pained sound as someone stepped on his booted foot, but it happened so quickly no one could be sure of the culprit. "I'm sorry! Okay? 'm sorry, got-damn."

Artiplier stepped forward. He looked as awkward and anxious as the others, but different somehow. Clearly, it wasn't pride or stubbornness heavying his tongue. Rather, guilt shone bright and sad in his brown eyes and his expression. He even toned down some on the accent when he spoke. "Desole. I'm... zorry, King. For everything." He despairingly shook his head. "I never should 'ave..."

"It's not your fault lightning struck my tree. Or that Yandere attacked me. I'm sorry I scared you off that day." King was quick to interject. He had no idea why Artiplier felt so responsible.

Said ego sighed, but worked up a pained smile. "Of course, of course. I... I left you zome paints and brushes, near ze trunk. In case you... wanted to make murals. On ze walls. Darkiplier gave his permission..."

"With a little arm twisting. Told'im he wouldn't be able to see it, anyway." Wilford spoke up with a mischievious wiggle of his mustache.

It was King's turn to smile at the kind gesture. "Thank you, Artiplier."

The artist scoffed softly. "Zink nothing of eet. I also promise never to paint zis tree."

"Uh... okay." King didn't understand why that was necessary, but if it prevented another freak out, he wouldn't complain.

All of the Googs weren't present, but Oliver was. "We installed some dim lighting around the courtyard as well. For nights when moonlight is unavailable. We attempted to make it as natural appearing as possible."

"And I'm forecasting nothing but sunny days to come." Weatherman Jim grinned from where he stood with Newscaster Jim. It was only then King realized they each held something in their hands, and Bim stepped forward once more.

"May I...?" He was extending his arms, gesturing to the box of baby squirrels.

King's first instinct was to tighten his grip and pull the box closer to himself. However, the items being offered were too tantalizing to resist. He needed his hands. Hesitantly, after much internal debate, he carefully passed over the box. He treated it like precious, fragile glass, and was relieved when Bim mimicked the caution.

The Jims stepped closer, raising their "offerings" with matching smiles. "Jim here's gonna try apologizing to you profusely, I couldn't convince him not to, so you better accept it Mr. King." News Jim was speaking up before his other self could, and Weather Jim shot him an irritated look.

"Jim..."

"You don't need to apologize either." King lifted a hand, quieting the egos who were primed to bicker. "You couldn't have stopped me. Even if you had the ability, if you were actually there... I would have ignored you. Just like I did the others. In fact, I should thank you. In the case Oxnard might not have gone to fetch the Host..." He trailed off, a shadow crossing his face at the very real possibility of his untimely demise.

Weather Jim still didn't look entirely convinced, but he smiled and pressed a familiar cape into King's hands nonetheless. "We may not know each other very well, but... I wanna change that. And I'm glad you're okay. You'll be safer, here. All of you."

King accepted the cape with a renewed awe and relish, rubbing his hands over the soft and fluffy material. "How..."

"Well, you know, when you've got reality benders on the roster...." News Jim grinned, and Bim's bashful smile told all. He waited for King to slip the cape back over his shoulders before offering him the crown again. "We shined it up real nice for you. It was kind of dirty, after... y'know. Now it's good as new."

"I... thank you...." King took the crown into his hands, admiring the sheen of the faux silver and costume jewlery. Almost reverently, he set it upon his head and grinned. It was barely a second before a squirrel was clambering on top of it, chittering away happily. He giggled. "I almost feel like my old self. Now if I just had some peanut butter-"

"Don't make me regret this."

The sound of a cool, raspy voice drew the egos attention to the still open doorway. Several sets of eyes widened at the sight of Darkiplier, clad in his finely pressed suit and clutching a large jar of peanut butter. He stalked towards King, who immediately tensed and inched away. His brief experience with the void may have been ages ago, but it stuck out in his mind like a fresher memory.

Several of the egos were stepping in, looking more than ready to get between two of Mark's oldest creations. Dark stopped and held up his hand, expression reserved. "Stop it. I'm not going to hurt him. I simply wanted to... view the finished product. And supply a peace offering." His darkened eyes flitted back to King, whose stomach still chilled beneath their gaze. He eyed the jar being extended towards him with an understandable wariness. Dark looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. "It's just peanut butter. Take it. And kindly keep your antics in here, where they can't cause the rest of us any trouble. This week's been enough of a headache...."

"You'd think he was the one struck by lightning." Wilford muttered, the only one confident enough to voice his thoughts. He smirked when Dark's shell cracked and his composure twitched to the side in a silent scream. "Go ahead, Kingy. If it is poisoned, we'll just turn his office into an arboretum."

Dark was scowling openly at Wilford and King used the opportunity to take the jar. Immediately, the grey aura dispelled from it, and Dark turned away from the assembly of egos. "Just keep your squirrels in here, and we won't have any problems." He left without another word, as quickly and silently as he'd come. None of the egos had any complaints about how brief the visit was.

However, they did take it as their own signal to head off, saying goodbye to King and some giving him well wishes. Others promised to come and visit very soon. Bim was the last, and he lingered, beaming at how King still looked up at the massive tree with a childish wonder. He cleared his throat to get the King's attention and gestured to the door. "Also, in case you thought the color on these doors might look familiar.... They're made from the walnut that was destroyed. We gathered up the broken wood and the Googles did a bit of planning, and we did a little magic and... I just thought it was appropriate. I hope you don't mind..."

King looked up at the door frame. Slowly, he dragged his hand down the freshly carved wood; polished smooth and clean by skilled hands. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to the walnut and closing his eyes while he breathed in. It still smelled like home.

Now he had a new home. A safe home, tucked away in the heart of Egos, Inc. and surrounded by friends he never thought he'd be lucky enough to have. The smile on his face was utterly serene. He'd never been so at peace. "No, it's... thank you. I'm glad it didn't go to waste. It was a good tree. It deserved better than the dump or a wood chipper or a fire...." He pulled away, giving the frame a few solid pats.

"It did... and so do you. I'm happy you like it, King. Please, feel free to come visit me any time as well. You can even bring some of your squirrels along, just- don't let them get to the wires." Bim passed the box of babies back to King before taking his leave. The doors clicked shut behind his retreating form, and King was left alone with his subjects at long last.

He turned back to the tree, still trying hard to wrap his brain around all that had happened. The babies and his subjects were safe. They would be happy here. He'd survived so much, and Mark's community was remembering him. The egos were remembering him. They liked him. They wanted to be... he had...

He had friends. Not just loyal subjects, but friends. A warm wetness trickled down his cheeks and he sniffled. Something soft and fluffy rubbed against his cheek, and he smiled gently at Tim perched on his shoulder. "I'll be okay. Just... bein' a big, bubble-blowin' baby here." He sniffled again. The babies in the box were beginning to chirp softly, calling to their parents in search of food and affection. He laughed, more breath than actual sound, and shook his head. "We have some work to do. Our new kingdom awaits, and a new generation with it."

King looked back up to the tree, its boughs swaying in a light breeze. His eyes shone big and wet with more tears he didn't bother wiping away. They were good tears. Adjusting the box in his arms, he headed for the sturdy trunk, watching his squirrels like a proud father.

"Hello, everybody! I am your King, and today we're going to explore our new kingdom!" He laughed brightly as he began to scale the branches. "First one to the top has fleas!"

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thetravelling1 · 7 years

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T+73: The Date.

Ok, this story is likely to be a bit of a long one, so bear with me please!

Part 1: Context

I flew out to NZ 73 days ago, with a bag holding all my possessions and an incredibly vague plan to find a job and get a visa. I didn’t know anybody here, and one part of my journey would be build a new social circle from scratch. I now have a job and a visa, and so was in the mood to celebrate.

Building a complete social circle once you get a foot in the door is relatively easy; the trick is meeting people at first. There are two approaches I’ve taken so far - Meetups and Online Dating sites. In my experience, Meetups have been much more amiable - you are there to do a specified activity, and even if you don’t click with anybody, you still get to do that thing.

In terms of online dating, I’ve used OKCupid, Tinder and Bumble. OKC is the most “thorough”, having a series of essay based questions to read about each other, and a lot of multiple choice questions that the system uses to rate how well you’re likely to match. The problem is that there aren’t many people in Christchurch on OKCupid.

Tinder has a reputation of being a “hookup” app, but in my experience that hasn’t been the case. You have a few photos and a small amount of text to give a sliver of insight into yourself - and only people who like each other’s profiles can start contacting each other. This results in less time wasted on interactions that are clearly not going to work.

Part 2: Prelude

I swiped right on Kylie’s profile for a combination of shallow and personality based reasons. She enjoys pizza, wine and board games. She likes to go walking. While she doesn’t live in Christchurch, it’s an easily travelled distance (half an hour). She has 2 kids, but the father has custody on the weekends, and she lives near supportive family. We had a nice chat and I suggested meeting up that coming weekend, on Saturday. She was in Christchurch anyway having a “Girls Day” with friends so it was perfect to meet at a pub walking distance from mine.

I won’t misrepresent things and imply that there weren’t warning signs. My housemate queried “what is she, in high school” when Kylie commented about how excited her friends were that we were meeting up - or that her friends were on the crazy side. I charitably put this down to hyperbole and someone being happy about finding someone on Tinder who’s vaguely on their wavelength, but you can take it as foreshadowing.

On the day of the date, I met up with a friend in the morning at a farmer’s market, and we went for a lovely walk up to the Port Hills over Lyttleton. Then we had lunch, and I accidentally left my NZ sim phone in the cafe. I went home for a nap and shower, put on a fresh pair of jeans and an actual shirt before heading to the pub (5:30)

Part 3: The conventional part of the date.

I got there first, and ordered myself a diet cola, then sat outside in the sun trying to get my non-sim phone to connect to Wi-fi so I could message her - when she turned up, right on time! She grabbed a glass of red and we sat outside, chatting about all sorts of stuff. She’s on good terms with her ex, her kids are handling separated parents well. She had dated another guy after separating from her husband, but I was her first date after splitting up with him.

I wouldn’t say there was romantic chemistry there per se, but we were having an amiable enough conversation and it was a nice evening and a good setting. Kylie refused a second drink as she was driving home (note: it feels like the default behaviour here is to have 1 drink if you’re driving. It’s a little unnerving but when in Rome..)...But it was looking like maybe having dinner together and/or watching a movie could be on the cards.

Part 4: A jarring sense of something unusual.

A bartender came over with a shooter, placing it on the table in front of her. “From an admirer”. This appeared to be as much of a shock to her as it was to me. We looked around and there were no hints of guys trying to muscle in. Still, this is not what you expect. The shooter appeared to be kahlua and baileys, and Kylie enjoyed it. We kept chatting, and more of the story came out.

Her “girls day” involved two of her friends, Charlotte and Pixie. Pixie had recently broken up with her bloke, and was feeling down about it. So down, in fact that she was under strict orders not to drink. Charlotte had a bloke, but doesn’t often get a chance to go out and relax, so she took the opportunity to take Pixie out to a pub. Specifically, the pub Kylie was going to.

They assured Kylie that they were just looking to hang out with some guys, and wouldn’t interfere with the date. The shooter that the bartender provided was from Charlotte, the first sign that this assurance wasn’t necessarily a firm boundary. The good news was that as Pixie wasn’t drinking, Kylie would be able to get a lift back to Pixie’s to crash - and therefore, could drink more.

I can’t remember exactly whether this fact was raised before or after the Tequila was delivered “from an admirer”. But hey, when in Rome, roll with the surprises - right?

Part 5: Genre Shift

Now we could go back to drinking normally, I went back to the bar to refill us both. Spiced Rum and Diet Coke for me, Glass of Red for her. Regardless of anything else that happened on top, this was the baseline. While I was at the bar, Charlotte turned up. We chatted, I thanked her for the shots and pointed out I was relieved it wasn’t an interloper.

Charlotte announced we’d be joining herself, Pixie and two newfound friends for Truth or Dare. Wait, what? Apparently that’s what they’d been up to since arriving. It’d been quiet enough so far that I hadn’t noticed (bear in mind that this is probably 7pm on a Saturday night, and my back had been to them). The delivered shots had been part of the dares.

The thought amused me, but I knew that wouldn’t be on the cards; we were still talking about going for food (having not eaten) so these would probably be the last drinks before making new plans. Kylie was out to meet me, and wasn’t looking to merge with the crowd.

I stepped outside, and Kylie had merged with the crowd.

Part 6: Truth or Dare

I haven’t played this since university, 14 years ago. And I didn’t play it at university, as far as I can remember. At high school...yeah ok, I’m not sure if I’ve played this game since I was a child. It’s surreal how silly the game is, the combination of risque and childlike natures butting up against each other. I’d basically decided that there weren’t going to be any romantic feelings arising, so moving away from a traditional date format wasn’t a big loss.

Charlotte and Pixie had met two other locals, and everybody seemed positive and friendly, so I stayed and resolved to go with the flow. Charlotte had oodles of personality, had a pink dress that matched her hair. Pixie was a little quieter and more reserved (maybe because she was the not drinking), her blue hair also had a matching dress. I forget the names of the two guys, but one was killing time until his Tinder date (he was going to the cinema), and the other was his mate.

It quickly became clear that I was the PG one of the group. Certainly, when compared to the ladies. Early on, I asked one of them what the most illegal thing they’d done was - I was not expecting “I once got strip-searched while holding Methamphetamines (a class A drug)” as a result. It certainly helped me out that Kylie was the one asking me, so everything had a fairly light touch.

Part 7: Interactions with other Patrons

So we’ve got the scene. 6 of us are sat round a picnic table in the courtyard of the pub. 2 guys, 3 ladies and me. Charlotte was evidently a dab hand at this; she knew to alert the bouncers - and find a safe table of other people sympathetic to the cause, to involve with dares. These dares varied from finding someone to do the Macarena to, to licking someone’s face. Yeah, that’s the level we were at by this point.

Some of these safe tables were amused by what we were doing, and before long I was being summoned by one of the tables that Kylie had gone over to chat to. A big, burly Glaswegian “invited” me to perch on his knee, so from that position we were able to confirm that yes - this was a first date, yes - we met on Tinder, and yes - we’d gotten merged with her “crazy” friends in a game of Truth or Dare. As I was explaining, Kylie sat on my knee, and Pixie sat on hers, making a chain of 4 people with the Glaswegian at the bottom. That didn’t last long.

The bartender was also becoming embroiled in the mess too, as Charlotte had noticed that he kind of liked her (not that she was interested, what with having a boyfriend). As such, when I bought a round, I was under strict instructions to announce that one of the drinks was for the girl with pink hair, and therefore it should be a special one. “I don’t think she can be shocked”, I commented. “Challenge accepted, he replied”. When he delivered the cocktail, she gave him a peck on the cheek. Then tasted it, and swapped with a friend (she doesn’t like spicy cocktails).

Part 8: Oversharing

I’m listing all of the shenanigans as if I was a passive observer. I feel like I should state for the sake of journalistic integrity that I certainly played a part, enabling the rest of the behaviour. I was happily referring to the evening as a car crash, but still going to the bar when it was my round (that as I recall came a bit more frequently than I’d expected). I wasn’t counting drinks...Maybe I could have been the voice of reason...Maybe I was enjoying the trainwreck of the evening with a morbid curiosity.

It was also interesting to hear other aspects of the ladies lives come out. Since splitting with her husband, Kylie had dated a hairdresser called Aragorn. Charlotte had previously dated Aragorn, and as the drinks flowed and the questions continued, certain home truths came out. Apparently, Kylie made lists about the things she didn’t like about her exes. I know this, because I was shown Aragorn’s list. Some of it was mundane, some explicit, and one line just said “Intellectually Inferior”. I have to appreciate the brutal honesty there.

Kylie also demonstrated her Tinder Swiping technique. Yes, on our first date I got to witness her going on Tinder and looking for other guys. The surreal-ness of the moment far outweighed any offence taken. However, the biscuit was taken when one of the ladies showed off a website she had found, where guys would post dick-pics in costume (the person, and the dicks). I still wrestle with what the appropriate reaction should have been. At the time, I went with stunned disbelief.

Part 9: Genre Shift, Part 2

The evening wore on, and the two guys decided to leave. They left most of a pint of light beer, and Charlotte decided that Pixie was safe to drink it. Charlotte found a couple of people from the “safe” tables to make up the numbers, but it didn’t really matter as the game was kinda falling apart regardless. We figured that food was probably a good idea, so we ordered a plate of Nachos (with the next round of drinks). Charlotte stays indoors for now.

When we came back, Kylie disappeared again to chat to some other newbies (I’d been helpfully informed that this was just the way she is), leaving me to chat with Pixie. It wasn’t long before a bouncer came over to have a friendly chat.

“Your friend, over there... she has to leave. She’s too drunk, and bothering other customers”.

Well, shit.

Part 10: Suddenly I’m sober

I honestly can’t remember being in the situation where I’ve been in the company of someone being ejected from a pub before. I turn to Pixie, who disappears inside (emphasis on the disappears) while I chat to the bouncer. He’s aware of my situation, and sympathetic, but can’t let Kylie stay there. I point out that we’re waiting for Nachos to hopefully sober her up. When they arrive, he offers to box them up - but she has to leave.

We head down to the picnic tables on the outskirts of the pub, and two ladies there offer to help take care of Kylie while I find her two friends, who are suddenly nowhere to be seen. I have to tell Charlotte twice (the second time with a “what the actual fuck”). Kylie falls off the chair, again. We discuss the options.

I can’t phone for a taxi, because my phone is in Lyttleton, and it’s a half hour drive back to Kylie’s.Charlotte can’t stay to help out, because there is a cute Eurasian guy at the bar she’s chatting toPixie can’t leave to take care of Kylie because she’s on her second pint now and the evening looks promising for her. The only option, Charlotte asserts is for me to take her home. I sense a nudge and a wink offered from Charlotte but not accepted by me.

I point out that while my place is walking distance, Kylie can’t walk. Pixie needs a recharge on her Vape anyway, so will ferry Kylie to mine, but not stay.I point out that she’s blackout drunk, and waking up in a stranger’s bed could be concerning to her. This doesn’t seem to be a problem.

Part 11: Exodus

So, Pixie and I both prop Kylie up and walk her to Pixie’s car. Kylie sits in the back. We drive two minutes to mine, and have to wake Kylie up. Pixie and I get her through my gate, in the front door and to my bedroom. Kylie collapses on the bed, already passed out.

My landlady is concerned that I left the gate open. While Pixie plugs in her Vape, I go close it and explain the beginnings of the situation. Pixie leaves. I explain the full story to my landlady. She understands and gets a bucket and towel, just in case. I go back into the bedroom.

Kylie’s awake, and heard everything. She is valiantly staying almost upright, outraged at the suggestion that she might throw up. We assure her it’s not a slight on her character. She says she should go. At this point, I think better of pointing out that she doesn’t really have anywhere to go, as her friends have abandoned her.

I open a bag of cookies and get a glass of water. One cookie and mouthful of water, Kylie’s back to passed out on my bed. Bowie the dog is agitated, and would be more agitated if someone slept in the living room - and there are doubts of the safety for Kylie to be passed out alone. It’s 9:30, Oh boy, it’s going to be a long night.

Part 12: Sharing a bed

I change from my shirt into a t-shirt, and get my mobile. I’m full of emotion, put on life-tilt by the way the evening totally got away with me. I’m scared for Kylie, I’m scared for myself, I’m angry at Charlotte. I can’t sleep, and so I put Youtube on and watch videos. For over 5 hours, until 3am. Kylie makes occasional movements, and occasional sounds, True to her word, she doesn’t throw up.

At 3am, Kylie wakes up and says her first statement of the new day - that she forgot how uncomfortable it is to sleep wearing a bra. I sympathise and face away as she gets comfier and then goes back to sleep. I finally allow myself to relax, and fall asleep.

At 5am, we both wake again. Kylie is a bit more talkative now; waking up in my bed didn’t phase her at all. She can’t remember how she got to mine, but takes a sip of water. We chat a little, but I’m overtired and overstretched mentally. She is due to meet up with the ladies to raise money at a local market that morning, and starts texting them. At 6:30am, they are apparently on their way. We turn the light on and she sees the bucket. “I never throw up” she comments, offhandedly.

We wait outside, and a few minutes later, Pixie drives up. Charlotte is in the car, but they are literally just picking her up and driving off. I return inside, and see her jewelry. Pixie drives back to pick up the jewelry, and they are gone.

Part 13: The Aftermath

Sleep remains elusive for a while; I don’t really sleep all day, but I don’t get up either. It messes with my mind, and my sleep pattern goes out of whack. I mean, it’s 1:15am 3 days later and I’m still a bit zombified.

I receive a message a few hours later saying Kylie made it to the market, with her friends - and they are re-evaluating their life choices.

The following morning, Kylie sends me a message to say that she appreciated me taking care of her - but needs to do some soup searching and so will be deleting her Tinder profile (that’s why I will see her disappear from my contacts list). I appreciate that, and wish her the best. She points out that she meant to type soul searching, not soup searching. I understand.

Part 14: The Lessons

I take the time I have to look back at the warning signs, see if there’s any lesson I can take from it. There were definitely some yellow flags I need to be aware of. It’s good to stay aware of what might go wrong, and how it might go wrong.

But you know what? If you never have regrets, you’re not taking enough risks. It was exhausting, and ended the wrong way - but the evening was certainly memorable, and certainly entertaining in its own screwed up kind of way.

I came out here to meet new, interesting people. On Saturday, I met an order of magnitude more people than I was prepared for, and none of them were actually obnoxious, or bad people, or in any way unfriendly or unwelcoming.

I’m grateful to the bouncer for calling it a night before Kylie did something really dangerous, and to the barman for playing along like a good sport. I’m grateful to the randoms at the bar for getting into the spirit of things and letting the forces of nature that were Kylie, Charlotte and Pixie do their thing. I’m grateful to Charlotte and Pixie for being a lot of fun throughout the evening, and legitimately caring about their friendship (I’m generously saying that their decision to have Kylie stay at mine was based on good judgment of character, knowing they can trust me and maybe slightly impaired perception).

Mainly, I’m grateful to Kylie for opening the door on what was certainly the most interesting story I’ve encountered to date, and inviting me in.

It’s going to be a while before I’m up to something like that again, though.

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