Rocky Road ~ House of Brisa, Dave, Koa, and Owen

[Dragonfree]

“I’m not here to tell you what to do. You’re the one who was insisting I need to be happier.” Dave rolled over to stare Owen in the eye. “Whatever these false dichotomies you’re seeing are, they’re not what I said. ‘Everyone’ll remember you fondly if you’re a doormat’ means just that; it doesn’t mean you’re a doormat, or doormat-not doormat is some kind of black and white binary, where are you even getting that. It’s an argument about why optimizing for how you’re remembered is a piss-poor proxy for doing good. Yeah, leaving problems for other people to deal with after you’re gone is fucked. But who the hell is suffering if other people think I was a piece of shit after I’m dead? Why should I care, other than pure fucking vanity?”

Shadow was wincing beside him. Dave took a breath, shooting him a glare. “And this whole thing about happiness being a disservice to somebody is something you made up. Whatever elaborate set of reasons I’m not allowed to be happy you think exist in my head, they don’t. All right? Maybe there’s just not all that much for me to be bursting with joy about at the moment and maybe that’s none of your fucking business.”

Shadow shuddered as Dave caught his breath, a knot of cold, tight rage coiling in his chest.

“This is how I’ll be remembered,” Shadow said, quiet. “I burn bridges. I always end up pushing people away. I don’t know how not to.”

 

[Namohysip]

It was strange to see this once trembling, lost Charmander now look down at Dave with the air of the age he actually was as a blackened, hardened Charizard. It had only been the better part of a year, but perhaps Owen had lived much longer as his memories rebuilt themselves. A younger, emptier Owen would have gotten riled up or saddened or openly fight against Dave's perspective. But now, he knew better, and he only nodded when Dave finished, and then looked at Shadow--the truth Dave wanted to hide--and made it known with only a glance that Owen could tell how lost Dave truly was.

"You have been through a lot of hardship and injustice in your world... and you don't want to risk losing more, so you try to avoid gaining what you can. The loss will be less painful that way, right?" He tilted his head.

Owen made a small gesture with his hands and tossed a little green ball--seemingly conjured from nothing--onto the ground. It spread until it split into two little patches of grass. Two flowers, white roses, struggled to emerge, drooping and struggling to grow. Withered leaves, prickly thorns, wilted petals. They grew and grew, but while one seemed to strengthen enough to stand, it didn't look very pretty. The other one seemed tender, but the petals were lush and vibrant. The thorns looked weaker. But some of the leaves still showed signs of struggle.

"I'm no psychologist. It's just a guess. Maybe I'm wrong... But your Shadow is here, speaking against you, while mine is quietly watching, in agreement with what I'm saying. But I think the first thing you need to do is acknowledge it the way Shadow is. Otherwise... nobody can help you. You're going to set up your own, next tragedy."

And then, without warning, both flowers burst into flame, crumbling in seconds until identical piles of ash remained.

"...But I won't deny the parts of what you said that are total facts. You're right," Owen said. "Here, we'll probably both forget. Forget everything. All to void. And if I ever get it all back, will it matter by then? ...So maybe it doesn't matter." Owen looked between the piles of ash, first the one that had withered but endured, and then at the one that grew and blossomed. "All to piles of ash in the end... They both look the same, now. We'll both wind up the same to Cibus. Gone. Our 'selves' here will wind up the same. To the void, sealed until it doesn't matter."

Owen's eyes trailed between the piles, but his eyes were more often looking over the one that had blossomed moments ago. "I guess it's funny that I liked one pile of ash more, though."

He pointed at them both, gathering it up in golden barriers, before bringing it toward his palm. By some strange slight of hand, the ash disappeared. Then, he leaned back, signaling that he was done, that he would no longer pester Dave with his own tragedy, and reached beside his bed to grab a comic book. One that he'd never know the ending to. And started to read.

 

[Dragonfree]

Dave gritted his teeth at Shadow's words, shadows boiling and raging and fighting for an outlet, wanted to just slug him in the face again, but the other Mightyena flinched in fear and pinned his ears back, and what was even the fucking point.

He turned and flopped back down on the bed instead with a groan, dropped his head flat on the pillow and stared at the wall, waiting for Owen to finish whatever speech he came up with, restlessly wanting to go get a beer from the fridge. He rolled his eyes silently at the initial shot at psychoanalysis, raised an eyebrow at the far too elaborate pretentious flower metaphor.

I liked one pile of ash more, though. Leave it to Owen to invent a whole new caliber of insult.

Without waiting for an answer, Owen sat back and reached for a book to signal the end of the conversation. After a few seconds Dave rose, got a beer from the kitchen, and settled in the sofa with it.

Shadow lingered in the bedroom with Owen, quiet. "You deserve better."

 

[Namohysip]

Owen smiled a little. "That's life," he replied to Shadow. "Even in a world like Pop's, someone somewhere has to work to get something done. Who the reward goes to isn't... always the person who did the work. And sometimes you can do everything right and be the best person you can, and still things will go wrong." He rubbed his chin. "Dave and I are examples of... being unlucky. And I dunno, I think we both have a few things in common. We both don't really trust gods. We both think that maybe they have too much power. Both lost daughters, both are in situations that seem hopeless, overpowered by other authorities... And we both think this world is better. And we both are probably going to forget it all.

"That's why I think Dave's strong, you know. He went through a whole lot and he's still standing. Maybe it's to spite the ones who wronged him, huh? Or maybe it's... to protect the ones he has left. That's probably it." Or maybe it's both, but Owen didn't say that out loud. "Shadow, I hope that when Dave wakes up, he'll find ways to be happy. Therapy seems silly, but it's better than stewing in it. I think he should live a better life for Mia. Both Mias. And all the others he cares about. And maybe if he has a better outlook, he'll have more energy to fight some other way. A different angle. Who knows...? He's not dead. So he has time to keep fighting and get creative... That's what I'm going to try to take home, too."

Owen's voice was soft. He didn't really know if Dave heard all that Shadow heard, but he wasn't aiming to speak loudly or obviously so Dave could hear. Only Shadow would, unless Dave tuned his keen hearing for it.

"Dave might be too tough, externally. But I can learn a thing or two from it. Wishkeeper definitely was tougher than me. I need that in my world... I guess I should be thanking him for some of that." He sighed, turning the page. "I'm rambling again, huh? ...I think I was too hard on Dave... Maybe after the fight, I'll ask him if he wants to do something. Something dumb that he wants to do. Maybe go out eating. Or blowing something up. Does he like flying? I could do that, too."

He settled back, feeling a little tired. He didn't show it, but talking to Dave did get him more worked up than he'd ever admit.

"I guess it's silly to try to help everyone be happy," he said, "but that's what I want. So I'll try anyway. Thanks, uh, for listening, Shadow." He adjusted where he sat and closed his eyes, leaving room if Shadow wanted to curl up and rest. "I'm gonna rest up for the fight."

<><><>​

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

Brisa groaned softly in her heap of blankets and cushions. A good bruise or muscular ache was one thing, and she was used to the singe of her arcflash plasma, but this was something else.

She cracked a heavy eye open at Owen.

"Hardest ass-kickin' since Joule," she muttered. "Feels halfway t'the Voidlands."

 

[Namohysip]

"Yeah," Owen said with a whimsical sigh. He still looked like a broken mess and it looked like parts of his body were somehow dented from the beatings he'd taken, despite healing up nicely. There was a smile on his face, though, like he was daydreaming about the fight again in his head. "It's nice that we finally got to fight someone and not have the world hanging over our shoulders for once. I should do Colosseum fights more..." he glanced at Brisa. "You know, before we have to... go."

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

She didn't nod, just made a pained grunt of agreement. "Yeah, I wanna get as many as I can in afore I run outta time. Surprised you ain't had more yerself. More big ones anyway. Y'sure y'ain't been holdin' back in yer fights? You'n I could take apart a lotta folks t'gether."

 

[Namohysip]

"I... guess I'm still a little, what's the term... camera shy," Owen admitted. "Fighting in a big arena like that, with so many people watching, gives me..." He trailed off. "...I guess it puts me in a place I don't know how to feel about yet, sometimes. Being with the whole team, it's different. Still... Maybe I'll try something. There's one fight I wanted to try a while ago. Never... got around to asking. Maybe they'd like it, and stuff..."

He shook his head, as if to dismiss it. "It's silly to be nervous like that."

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

"You're adorable," muttered Brisa, fondly. "Whatever it is y'have in mind, I reckon you oughta go fer it. You've more'n earned that, however it turns out."

She lashed her tail at him as if to wag a finger. "No backin' out, y'hear? I'll be in that audience. Our void eternas, too. Count on it."

It'd be good to watch Owen in a real battle from the stands. They trained together enough, and they'd fought plenty together, but it was a rarity to see the guy take someone apart in a tactical match. She purred with anticipation.

 

[Namohysip]

Owen's tail flared up when he smiled. "Guess now I have to," he commented, stretching slowly so he made sure each joint got a little pop. They were incredibly deep from his body, almost like large drums from a distance. "Nnggh, there we go," he mumbled.

"How have things been going with Starr and Astrid?" Owen asked curiously. "Unreal to think about where we all started, and... where we are now. Not even a year, but it feels a lot longer... And from me, that's probably saying something."

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

"Yeah, been thinkin' 'bout that plenty of late."

There were a lot of ways to answer that one. Some more optimistic, some more negative. She didn't much feel like overthinking it. That was one of the advantages of speaking to Owen. He didn't know exactly what you were thinking, but he could always tell when you were leaving something unsaid, so you may as well say it.

"Things're good," she said, after consideration. "I ain't gone steady with a soul my whole life so far, an' I was all kinds of nervous given the circumstances of our bein' t'gether, but Starr an' I... I think we're good fer each other. I'm happy. An' Astrid ain't in a place where she can go fer anythin' like that, but I like what we have. We're close again, an' I appreciate it. O'course . . . it ain't long t'go now 'til that all goes away. An' I've spent countless hours preparin' myself fer that, acceptin' it, but it's still a dreadful, forbodin' eventuality t'be sure."

Brisa pulled a dry face at Owen. "Don't much wanna see the last of you either, partner."

 

[Namohysip]

Owen nodded, not looking at Brisa as usual, at least until he remembered that was something he had to do during a conversation. He glanced at her, then maintained eye contact. "Right. I'm..." And then, he broke it, looking out the window instead. Cloudy. Behind the clouds, a bright sky. "Going to... miss a lot of things. Cibus reminds me of home. Or, what I want home to be like one day. What I'm fighting for, even when it feels like it's all... slipping away."

He got like this occasionally, though he usually snapped himself out of it. And as much as Owen marched toward the future while enjoying the present, the fact that Owen got in these moods more often meant it was getting to him.

"I'll become a tiny, obedient puppet all over again... I know, somewhere in my gut, that I won't remember any of you for a long time while I'm there. Diyem said my... Hero's Aura, he called it. He said it's got a shine to it that suggested... I'd have it for ages. At best."

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

"Can't be easy t'contemplate goin' back to," said Brisa, feeling a little deja vu. "I ain't keen on losin' what we have here, an' while my old life ain't good, I ain't a 'puppet', at least. Makes me wish..."

She was so used to shutting down her own fantasies before she could enjoy them. Fuck that.

"Makes me wish we could gather up the posse and do a whirlwind tour of everyone's worlds, rightin' wrongs, fixin' their lives up. Kick all the right asses, put things a better way, spend more time t'gether."

She sighed. "Fer what it's worth, I got complete faith in you, Owen. You don't need the posse to make things right in yer world. You'll make it more like Cibus one day fer sure."

 

[Namohysip]

Owen smiled appreciatively, and it looked genuine. Nodding, he said, "But having a... a posse would definitely make it faster," he said. "...I've got plans. I'm never not planning. Back home, planning was all I had for a while. Even with as much power I have, I'm..." He tittered. "I'm actually outclassed by most of my allies. I'm their tactician for some things... but I don't... have a lot of power compared to them.

"One can cast a blizzard over a city as large as Destiny Village, covering it in a layer of snow taller than Starr. Another one, m-my mother, at her best, she could tell a river of lava which way to go, just with a thought... And then there's my leader. He's... he's basically invincible. He's never fought at full strength... unified the whole world with his power. The one time I saw his attacks, he reduced whole trees to rotten ash in just one stray attack.

"And then there's me," Owen said, laughing, as he flicked his wrist. A small petunia appeared between his fingers. "I make plants grow. When you're around people like that, my head is all I have going for me." His eyes had a little glint that said more, though: And even my head needs some work.

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

Brisa nodded. Owen had alluded to as much, before. The kind of strength that seemed plentiful in Kilo was practically incomprehensible.

"It ain't a challenge of strength, though, is it? Yer head is part of it. I reckon yer heart is, too."

Brisa skewed her mouth in thought. "Y'know, in some ways we've had it real easy on Cibus. Sure, the threats've been proportionately intimidatin' in terms of strength, but ordinary folks're on our side, local divine and temporal authority is on our side, even other outworlder do-gooders're on our side. Hearts an' minds ain't been scarce. Victory in combat means victory in real terms, eventually. That ain't true fer Kilo, the way you tell it."

She offered a sympathetic, sad smile. They both knew that any revelations Owen came to while here wouldn't survive his soul's trip home intact. Still...

"I believe in you, not 'cause you're strong, or talented, or smart in combat. I believe in ya 'cause you've a good heart and a determined soul."

Home seemed far away, and her friends near. A posse would make things faster, huh? If only. But she couldn't help but wish she could lend Owen a paw, for whatever it would be worth.

 

[Namohysip]

Owen nodded slowly. "We can only... hope that a small amount will carry over. Some tiny way..." He laughed. "It's all we can do. I think in some ways, I understand why some people... think for the best when they don't know what comes next. When it doesn't matter either way, you know? I get that, now. Took me a while to get that..." He sighed. "It's crazy. Just a few years ago, I didn't believe in a single god. Guess that stops pretty quickly when they invade your life."

He'd been talking about himself too much. Glancing again at Brisa, he offered the petunia--red, like his favorite soup--without a thought and asked, "And I think you'll figure it out at your home, too. You were lonely, but... someone like you, there's no way it'll keep up. You'll find a way out."

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

Brisa took the petunia with an ironic grin. She wasn't really a floral kind of gal. But she loved her friend, so she stuck it in her mane anyway.

"Been cogitatin' a bit on that, yeah," she said. "Like, am I really not gonna get sick of that shit in ten, twenty, thirty years? Is nobody else gonna make any changes? Ridiculous t'think it'd continue fer ever. An' besides..."

Her tail-tip looped in the air as she recalled a now-distant memory.

"That golett I told ya 'bout way back. Gil, the courier? I'm thinkin' they're hopeful enough to mix me up a li'l once I get back. They took a shine t'me 'cause I dug 'em up outta the ground an' helped 'em get their fuckin' tree delivered, an' I offered 'em board fer however long. Hangin' 'round decent folks like you an' the locals here got me t'change plenty in hardly any time at all. Maybe that can happen back home somehow. Given enough time."

Maybe not long at all, if she could just remember that feeling of being loved, and deserving love.

 

[Namohysip]

Owen nodded. "And he's not from your society, either. He's a fresh perspective... And, you know, when I think about it, he's also someone who might ask innocent little questions that get you thinking." Owen smiled a little. "Not too far from me, or the others you met here. At least, me, back when I didn't have all my memories. Maybe he's what you're looking for. And, y'know, maybe some small part of you here will awaken that thought again. Back in my home... memories could be sealed. But it was hard to seal feelings. Deep memories that you aren't consciously aware of. Maybe it's the same in your world, huh?"

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

"Feelings, huh?"

Brisa mused on that. That feeling she had now, of hope and expectation for Gil to spark something new in her life, of fondness and admiration in retrospect for their brave little soul... If it could survive the return home, maybe she'd be alright.

"That's a good thing t'hope fer," she said, at last. "'Specially seein' as I know fer sure that feelings an' memories are sealed, 'stead of erased, in my world. Y'know, by way of my Pa."

 

[Namohysip]

"That's the... benefit of sealing them," Owen remarked, looking up. "I don't know how it works in other worlds, but in mine, you just... can't erase memories. Maybe for some people, that's more convenient. Being able to erase who someone was, maybe start a new life, fresh start... I don't think that's possible where I'm from. They tried, with me, many times. And... I don't think I want that."

A hazy phantom, barely visible, loomed over Owen, the same size as him, now. Wishkeeper was watching quietly; he'd felt the need to appear less and less often lately.

"I think I owe it to my own past to live my best life. And I can't really do that properly if I don't know them at all. If 'they' can't be here with me. It's... a burden. Every bad memory is also there. But... it's still me." Owen sighed. "That's why I hope one day what happens here can get unsealed, too. So the 'me' that's talking to you right now can also be there to help me. Must be the same for you, huh?"