Fuck "Temple", fuck its way too big size, and fuck the Hyrule Fight Club. Whoever designed that stage should burn in hell! Mr. Game & Watch was a good and simple man who paid his taxes and mortgage; he didn't need to be screwed over by Mewtwo like this.
Desiree was this close to slamming the controller into the ground and rending it into the millions of pieces that was her fragile ego, but it was one of those official Nintendo silver Gamecube controllers. Those cost money.
Most importantly, Violet probably wouldn't appreciate the gesture.
It was a little strange, honestly—Violet being here in Dad's combination man cave and game room, playing Project M with a hacked Wii and a 4K TV while most of the other fuckers at school were stuck at the Ivy & Friends Convention. Not that it was a bad thing, no; it was actually, dare Desiree say, a "blast". It was a good thing Parker hooked her up a couple of months back or else they'd be stuck with Brawl, something decidedly less of a "blast". They were cultured ladies, after all.
It really was more fun than just fighting randoms on Fortnite alone all night, even including the fact that she adored the new Star Power dance emote and was obligated to show off on as many defaults as possible. There was no challenge in that, though. At least Violet was a fair contender, or rather she would be if she actually knew how to L cancel.
Facts didn't matter anyway, as right now Mr. Game & Watch was Mr. Black & Blue. All Desiree could do was watch the carnage as the damage percentage reached into the 300's from the combination of unrelenting grabs and Confusion. Soon, the bloodbath was finished as Desiree's character ricocheted off the wall and shot straight into the abyss below. She stopped mashing the control stick and accepted her fate.
"Game!" went the digital announcer accompanied with the overly dramatic red-and-black font. The screen then transitioned into the victory results. Mewtwo won, but only because RNJesus decided their fate by letting the computer pick the stage. No other reasons.
Desiree set the controller down. "I'm choosing the next stage."
黑魔法仪式 -̵̨̀͜͜P̡͞R͝҉̶̛O̷̶̡͘͟J͏̡̨E̴͠Ć̵̨̢T̵̛͟ ͝͝M̶̀̀-̷̡̀͠͞
Skipping prom to play Smash Bros; private.
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MethodicalSlacker
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Temple rules.
But what was more important, truly, was how the situation had totally flipped in the weeks since "The Bench Incident," as Violet had started to refer to it in her memories. After she stomped up to her room and attempted to cry for a few hours, she felt like everything must have been ended right then and there. Now, she felt on top of the world. The shyness she felt from her feelings was replaced by boldness, still because of those flutters in her chest, but redirected towards daring.
Which is why she hoped that maybe sometime later tonight, Violet could try something. Something that it was about time she attempted to do in a serious time.
But that was in the future. As for right now, Temple rules.
Sure, maybe it wasn't the best stage to go to when playing competitively, but right now Violet and Desiree were just messing around. Violet had played Project M a good deal before—she had Dolphin, a Gamecube and Wii emulator, on her computer—but she had mostly stuck to Brawl. The Subspace Emissary felt like it was built for Brawl's mechanics, not P.M's, and that and event matches were what she spent most of her time doing. She didn't really want to try netplay with other people online. Anther's Ladder was intimidating, and none of her online friends on any of the message boards or chat servers or whathaveyou had Dolphin, or Gamecube controllers for that matter. Not that she'd asked.
Violet won the match handily. She hadn't even really needed to L-Cancel all that much, even though she had been making it a point to try that more tonight. The timing was strange, with Mewtwo. Maybe she'd try a different character? Briefly, she considered setting it to random, but decided against it. She didn't want to rub salt in any wounds Desiree might have after getting utterly destroyed, last time.
"Sure," Violet said, "but, um, could I suggest Yoshi's Island? We haven't played there yet, I think."
But what was more important, truly, was how the situation had totally flipped in the weeks since "The Bench Incident," as Violet had started to refer to it in her memories. After she stomped up to her room and attempted to cry for a few hours, she felt like everything must have been ended right then and there. Now, she felt on top of the world. The shyness she felt from her feelings was replaced by boldness, still because of those flutters in her chest, but redirected towards daring.
Which is why she hoped that maybe sometime later tonight, Violet could try something. Something that it was about time she attempted to do in a serious time.
But that was in the future. As for right now, Temple rules.
Sure, maybe it wasn't the best stage to go to when playing competitively, but right now Violet and Desiree were just messing around. Violet had played Project M a good deal before—she had Dolphin, a Gamecube and Wii emulator, on her computer—but she had mostly stuck to Brawl. The Subspace Emissary felt like it was built for Brawl's mechanics, not P.M's, and that and event matches were what she spent most of her time doing. She didn't really want to try netplay with other people online. Anther's Ladder was intimidating, and none of her online friends on any of the message boards or chat servers or whathaveyou had Dolphin, or Gamecube controllers for that matter. Not that she'd asked.
Violet won the match handily. She hadn't even really needed to L-Cancel all that much, even though she had been making it a point to try that more tonight. The timing was strange, with Mewtwo. Maybe she'd try a different character? Briefly, she considered setting it to random, but decided against it. She didn't want to rub salt in any wounds Desiree might have after getting utterly destroyed, last time.
"Sure," Violet said, "but, um, could I suggest Yoshi's Island? We haven't played there yet, I think."
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- Desiree lightheartedly scoffed, swiping hair away from her face with her hand. "Maybe after Fourside again."
The screen went back to the character select screen, and the cheery music started back up. It was one of Desiree's favorite songs from Undertale, and she practically had to beg Parker to inject it somewhere for her. The main menu was a good enough place; besides, one girl could only take so many loops of Melee's second menu theme before going crazy.
Desiree reached over and checked the time on her phone. It was about time for Toby's medicine; poor guy's been fighting off a fever for the last couple of days. It was good timing, anyway; she really needed a minute or three to cool down after that beating. Violet didn't need to know that.
Desiree rose from her chair, turned around, and grabbed the top of the seat as she spoke at Violet in the dimly lit room, "Sorry, I'll be right back. I need to check on my chinchilla." With a head nod she took her leave, leaving the door slightly ajar and leaking light from the hallway as she headed for her bedroom.
The screen went back to the character select screen, and the cheery music started back up. It was one of Desiree's favorite songs from Undertale, and she practically had to beg Parker to inject it somewhere for her. The main menu was a good enough place; besides, one girl could only take so many loops of Melee's second menu theme before going crazy.
Desiree reached over and checked the time on her phone. It was about time for Toby's medicine; poor guy's been fighting off a fever for the last couple of days. It was good timing, anyway; she really needed a minute or three to cool down after that beating. Violet didn't need to know that.
Desiree rose from her chair, turned around, and grabbed the top of the seat as she spoke at Violet in the dimly lit room, "Sorry, I'll be right back. I need to check on my chinchilla." With a head nod she took her leave, leaving the door slightly ajar and leaking light from the hallway as she headed for her bedroom.
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MethodicalSlacker
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Pet Chinchilla!? Was Desiree some kind of fantasy princess or something? Things got better with every new little tidbit of information that she got. Violet hoped that she got to meet the little guy, or gal, or whatever it was, it's 2018. Even if she didn't, between the music playing on the character select screen, the fact that she owned a gosh-darn chinchilla, and the fact that she was even here in the first place...
OH NO!!! YOU'RE MEETING ALL MY STANDARDS!!!
Violet wasn't averse to playing on Fourside again, but she'd probably switch to random. Mewtwo didn't do that well on the stage for some reason. She wondered quietly if there was more Undertale music loaded for that stage, something something Game Theory and all that.
She took a fistful of Takis from the bowl sitting on the coffee table right next to where she was putting her feet up a few moments ago and chowed down. Spicy food never bothered her that much, but Takis always got her mouth tingling just a little more than she was the most comfortable with. She licked the red dust off of her fingers, brushed them on their jeans, and played around on the character select screen selecting Wario's name over and over again waiting anxiously for Desiree's return.
OH NO!!! YOU'RE MEETING ALL MY STANDARDS!!!
Violet wasn't averse to playing on Fourside again, but she'd probably switch to random. Mewtwo didn't do that well on the stage for some reason. She wondered quietly if there was more Undertale music loaded for that stage, something something Game Theory and all that.
She took a fistful of Takis from the bowl sitting on the coffee table right next to where she was putting her feet up a few moments ago and chowed down. Spicy food never bothered her that much, but Takis always got her mouth tingling just a little more than she was the most comfortable with. She licked the red dust off of her fingers, brushed them on their jeans, and played around on the character select screen selecting Wario's name over and over again waiting anxiously for Desiree's return.
Several minutes passed, and there was neither sight nor sound of Desiree.
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MethodicalSlacker
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Violet had started playing against a CPU Yoshi on Final Destination as Mewtwo after two minutes of slamming the A button and shoving Takis into her face so fast that she had to take out a moisturized towelette [wet wipe] from her purse and dab away red dust from her fingers and cheeks. Every extra minute that Desiree took to make it back out of her bedroom shook her with more anxiety than she had known in a long time, hence the power eating. Gamer fuel. Years were being shaved off of her life like hair from yaks.
Eventually the match wrapped up (Yoshi lowered into his grave, a vigilante murder for tax evasion. culprit never found [nor looked for]) and Violet scanned the room. No signs of life from Desiree's room. Silence, except for Undertale music and the beating of Violet's heart.
"Desiree?" she called. She leaned over to the other side of the couch and picked up the T.V. remote, muting the music and listening for any sounds that might indicate that she somehow got stuck in a door, or had to go use the bathroom due to sudden and explosive Taki digestion.
Nothing.
Violet got up from the couch, her sock-covered feet finding purchase in soda-damp carpet. She made for the hallway slowly, cautiously, excruciatingly slowly. Her breathing was short; she could sense that something was wrong, but could not tell whether the event had any occult significance, yet. With all the bad choices that was undoubtedly being made around town, tonight, Violet had anticipated some kind of bad aura to cover the whole town. She hadn't been able to feel it over the video games, but now, as she slinked down the side of the light-stricken hallway, she felt like something was terribly wrong.
"Desiree?" she called out again, lower this time, "are you okay?"
Eventually the match wrapped up (Yoshi lowered into his grave, a vigilante murder for tax evasion. culprit never found [nor looked for]) and Violet scanned the room. No signs of life from Desiree's room. Silence, except for Undertale music and the beating of Violet's heart.
"Desiree?" she called. She leaned over to the other side of the couch and picked up the T.V. remote, muting the music and listening for any sounds that might indicate that she somehow got stuck in a door, or had to go use the bathroom due to sudden and explosive Taki digestion.
Nothing.
Violet got up from the couch, her sock-covered feet finding purchase in soda-damp carpet. She made for the hallway slowly, cautiously, excruciatingly slowly. Her breathing was short; she could sense that something was wrong, but could not tell whether the event had any occult significance, yet. With all the bad choices that was undoubtedly being made around town, tonight, Violet had anticipated some kind of bad aura to cover the whole town. She hadn't been able to feel it over the video games, but now, as she slinked down the side of the light-stricken hallway, she felt like something was terribly wrong.
"Desiree?" she called out again, lower this time, "are you okay?"
Sniffling. Choked tears. Running water.
These sounds permeated throughout the hallway, all resonating from the same source: the bathroom, locked away so that none shall enter and snatch the teasures inside. Or perhaps that none shall leave and reap the joy of freedom?
Whatever case, Violet's questions went without answer other than a hesitant pause and a shuffling from the other side.
These sounds permeated throughout the hallway, all resonating from the same source: the bathroom, locked away so that none shall enter and snatch the teasures inside. Or perhaps that none shall leave and reap the joy of freedom?
Whatever case, Violet's questions went without answer other than a hesitant pause and a shuffling from the other side.
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MethodicalSlacker
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She was in what looked like the bathroom. Violet creeped over to the door and knocked on it lightly, gently, carefully just a few times just to ascertain that Desiree was in fact inside and was in fact crying, as it seemed. That, and she wasn't going to try to open the door just yet. Taki poops were miserable and if Desiree was just having one of those then Violet could offer a sympathy "Aww" and then go back to beating up Yoshi.
"Desiree? You okay?"
Violet stared at her feet as she waited for an answer. Shoegazing, it so happened. Something about this whole ordeal was making her unreasonably anxious, and she had no clue why.
"Desiree? You okay?"
Violet stared at her feet as she waited for an answer. Shoegazing, it so happened. Something about this whole ordeal was making her unreasonably anxious, and she had no clue why.
The water stopped with the creak of a faucet. Another sniffle.
Desiree finally spoke through the door with an unusually emotive tone, "I'm fine. Just... just give a minute."
Sniffle.
"...Please."
Desiree finally spoke through the door with an unusually emotive tone, "I'm fine. Just... just give a minute."
Sniffle.
"...Please."
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MethodicalSlacker
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Violet didn't want to leave Desiree alone.
She'd been in these kinds of situations a few times before. People thinking that they know what they need, when in reality what they need is for someone else to make decisions for them. To help them. Guide them. Be there for and with them. Supportively. This felt like one of those situations. Violet felt like she probably needed to stand by the door and ask for Desiree to talk about what was wrong. To confide in her, a little bit. Maybe it was asking too much. They had only barely briefly met once or twice before this. Bench, and then some other time. It was too forward.
But she relented.
"Okay," she said, sinking away from the door and back to the living room, taking a seat on the couch.
She did not unmute the television.
She'd been in these kinds of situations a few times before. People thinking that they know what they need, when in reality what they need is for someone else to make decisions for them. To help them. Guide them. Be there for and with them. Supportively. This felt like one of those situations. Violet felt like she probably needed to stand by the door and ask for Desiree to talk about what was wrong. To confide in her, a little bit. Maybe it was asking too much. They had only barely briefly met once or twice before this. Bench, and then some other time. It was too forward.
But she relented.
"Okay," she said, sinking away from the door and back to the living room, taking a seat on the couch.
She did not unmute the television.
After several more minutes with the affirmation that Violet had left, Desiree stepped out of the bathroom. Her face was still red, still puffy. Splashing some cold water helped, but now her face was visibly moist even as hard as she scrubbed with a towel. But she couldn't stay in there all night, as much as she wanted.
The hallway was eeriely quiet. Desiree limped back to the game room and peaked in the crack in the door. Violet was sitting down.
Desiree looked away. What was she even supposed to tell her? But she had to, she had to say something. Maybe she'd know what to do. after all.
Desiree grabbed the handle and slowly pushed it open, revealing herself to Violet like a specter. She was ready to vomit any second now.
"I...," she said while looking at the couch. She placed the side of her finger on her mouth and bit it. Her words cluttered together like gibberish. "He's... he's not moving. Not breathing. I just picked him up and I... I..."
Her hand shook, her breathing erratic. Her heart continued to race.
She sniffled.
"...Toby's dead."
The hallway was eeriely quiet. Desiree limped back to the game room and peaked in the crack in the door. Violet was sitting down.
Desiree looked away. What was she even supposed to tell her? But she had to, she had to say something. Maybe she'd know what to do. after all.
Desiree grabbed the handle and slowly pushed it open, revealing herself to Violet like a specter. She was ready to vomit any second now.
"I...," she said while looking at the couch. She placed the side of her finger on her mouth and bit it. Her words cluttered together like gibberish. "He's... he's not moving. Not breathing. I just picked him up and I... I..."
Her hand shook, her breathing erratic. Her heart continued to race.
She sniffled.
"...Toby's dead."
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MethodicalSlacker
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It took Violet a long time to figure out what to say to Desiree.
She had never lost someone close to her before. Neither had she ever had a pet. She had come close to it before but it was a bad idea of hers that she chased to the storm drain and then stuck her head in, IT style, but not quite pulled back all the way in. Dana had a little terrier at her place, allegedly, but Violet had never seen it. Him? Her? Was Toby a Him or a Her? She couldn't really tell by name alone. She had known of Toby's by either, or neither.
Desiree said something, Violet said nothing, and dead air hung in the air between the two of them.
"...I'm sorry."
Violet shrunk. She pulled her arms close to her chest, bent over slightly, and stared down at her socks.
Was now the time?
No.
Soon.
She had never lost someone close to her before. Neither had she ever had a pet. She had come close to it before but it was a bad idea of hers that she chased to the storm drain and then stuck her head in, IT style, but not quite pulled back all the way in. Dana had a little terrier at her place, allegedly, but Violet had never seen it. Him? Her? Was Toby a Him or a Her? She couldn't really tell by name alone. She had known of Toby's by either, or neither.
Desiree said something, Violet said nothing, and dead air hung in the air between the two of them.
"...I'm sorry."
Violet shrunk. She pulled her arms close to her chest, bent over slightly, and stared down at her socks.
Was now the time?
No.
Soon.
Desiree shook her head and bit her finger even harder after Violet's apology. Her mind raced a mile a minute, her mouth barely keeping up with the pace of her thoughts and words as the spaces blurred together like a train departing for the next station. "He just had a respiratory thing they said he'd get past it even though he was older so I just had to give him this syringe thing daily and that would've been it."
She collapsed in the seat she just sat in several minutes ago. Her head hanged forward, her hands the only thing propping herself up lest she caved in. Her leg shaked erratically, her head shook.
Desiree just sat there for what felt like hours in the dead silence of the game room with Violet. This wasn't fair. Things couldn't ever just go her fucking way once. What did God get out of tormenting her?
She breathed heavy. She tried to calm down. Breathe. Breathe. "...I'm sorry... If you wanna leave... it's okay." Her voice shaked, but not as bad as it just had been. Her head didn't rock from its cradle.
"...I just... I don't know what to do."
She collapsed in the seat she just sat in several minutes ago. Her head hanged forward, her hands the only thing propping herself up lest she caved in. Her leg shaked erratically, her head shook.
Desiree just sat there for what felt like hours in the dead silence of the game room with Violet. This wasn't fair. Things couldn't ever just go her fucking way once. What did God get out of tormenting her?
She breathed heavy. She tried to calm down. Breathe. Breathe. "...I'm sorry... If you wanna leave... it's okay." Her voice shaked, but not as bad as it just had been. Her head didn't rock from its cradle.
"...I just... I don't know what to do."
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MethodicalSlacker
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Emotionally heavy. Violet nodded.
Death is real, she reminded herself. A year ago she had heard that tragic Mount Eerie album and felt like she knew for the first time how awkward and strange other people's grief would be. Now she was watching it. Of course, it was about a pet now. Not a wife of ten, eleven, twelve years.
She also reminded herself not to say anything weird.
As nice as she knew that she usually was to people,—knowing this not because of any feedback but because she knew that she went out of her way to be nice to people—she also knew that occasionally she said some weird, weird things. Not every conversation needed a reference to third stream jazz, or an obscure Sega Genesis game. Even weirder is when she made a reference to something she hadn't played or seen or listened to yet but knew enough about to make a reference to.
Right now she was about to say something on a whole new level of weird shit though. Weird enough to warrant the swear. Weird enough to maybe need a bit more time to ruminate in her think pan. Weird enough that she might get kicked out if she said it. Weird enough that she was worried that under a certain microscope she could be looked at as someone who used others for her own strange occult experiments and practices in their times of need instead of providing human care and assurance that people wanted and actually desired, rather than the nice and just human being that she felt like she actually was, and she was unsure if she wanted to take the gamble that she was about to take, with Desiree, that gamble being that she was about to say some weird shit.
"...I could help you speak to him," she mumbled, staring at the ground as hotness enveloped her chest and face.
Death is real, she reminded herself. A year ago she had heard that tragic Mount Eerie album and felt like she knew for the first time how awkward and strange other people's grief would be. Now she was watching it. Of course, it was about a pet now. Not a wife of ten, eleven, twelve years.
She also reminded herself not to say anything weird.
As nice as she knew that she usually was to people,—knowing this not because of any feedback but because she knew that she went out of her way to be nice to people—she also knew that occasionally she said some weird, weird things. Not every conversation needed a reference to third stream jazz, or an obscure Sega Genesis game. Even weirder is when she made a reference to something she hadn't played or seen or listened to yet but knew enough about to make a reference to.
Right now she was about to say something on a whole new level of weird shit though. Weird enough to warrant the swear. Weird enough to maybe need a bit more time to ruminate in her think pan. Weird enough that she might get kicked out if she said it. Weird enough that she was worried that under a certain microscope she could be looked at as someone who used others for her own strange occult experiments and practices in their times of need instead of providing human care and assurance that people wanted and actually desired, rather than the nice and just human being that she felt like she actually was, and she was unsure if she wanted to take the gamble that she was about to take, with Desiree, that gamble being that she was about to say some weird shit.
"...I could help you speak to him," she mumbled, staring at the ground as hotness enveloped her chest and face.
Desiree stewed in her emotions in the cloudy haze of the silent living room. Guess she was supposed to bury him now. Right? A little Western-style service for a big rat. She was gonna have to tell her parents. Her mother's burning words were already emblazened in the back of her head.
You should've taken better care of him.
She wanted to punch something. To scream. Until Violet said those words.
"I could help you speak to him."
Desiree jolted her head up and stopped sniffling, her eyes focused on Violet. "What?"
You should've taken better care of him.
She wanted to punch something. To scream. Until Violet said those words.
"I could help you speak to him."
Desiree jolted her head up and stopped sniffling, her eyes focused on Violet. "What?"