Author Note: Ok, this chapter gets darker. As in, "don't show your kids" and "I should probably up the rating" darker. Not to hype it up, but I think that's a fair warning. (I did try to maintain the rating, and if you're older without kids, you should be fine, so we'll see.)
Oh, and there are intentional errors within this chapter, such as unfinished sentences. Additional warning? It works. Enjoy!
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Entry Log: Somber (Third to last)
Numbers get tiring after you enter the vast number of things you want to pour out of your mind. Why I've taken to using the letters of my last name and describing my current mood with them is beyond me. Explaining it doesn't even help it make sense. This doesn't even make sense.
Somber isn't even a good choice to be writing with.
But it's not going away this time. It should by now. He should be leaving us alone. I don't want him here, not here. It's safe; I'm safe, without him anywhere near
Stop. No need to keep going on with that drivel. There's nothing. He's nothing. We have never been. Our past was a ruse, a way for him to scour what little he could find and use it to propel forward. He never needed me.
Never.
Wait, that's the lie. He did need me. That's why he bothered with me, when we were young. That's why he reached out to me, for me, when he was alone, when no one
He had no one. You could have. Why did you choose him? WHYWHYWHY?
Back then is when I thought I needed him too. No
Yes. Yes, I did think that. We were both street peasants. Damned by the world, all of Lylat, to live in terrible upbringings, to survive. Stealing wasn't a choice for us. We wouldn't be above all of those petty laws that the justice system put in place, the same ones that the armies enforced. It's how we lived.
That's not what I wanted though. I wanted him. I wanted love. Not in that idiotic romantic sense that people rave about and would act like a nimrod over. Not the way Panther keeps touting it like the greatest thing is to just find someone to
Easy. Panther's not the cause of this. Caroso even knows how to help me open up sometimes, as if he knows what it's like to hide. Smug fool. He's too nice some days.
It's him, though. It's always been him.
That blasted fiend who ruined me, who sentenced me to hell. Falco—I HATE HIM. I HATEHATE HIM SOSOSOSOSO MUCH HATE WITH EVERY FIBER
When we were young, go back, when we used to be friends. There used to be that bond between us, something akin to brotherhood. We were what they call, "Partners in Crime," or whatever nonsensical idiom it was. Fal the bird and I stole what we could to survive. Food, riches, those were easy when we were young.
We got serious, as we grew older, learning to steal more helpful, valuable things. He grew taller, protective of his meek partner. I'm older, even if only by a little, but it felt so nice to have someone to watch out for me. I let him because of that. He had to have cared then, at least for a while, somewhere he had to care
HE NEVER CARED NEVER WANTED ME NEVER WANTED TO KEEP ME AS HIS FAMILY NEVER WAS THERE NEVER ANYTHING
Something the two of us learned to steal a few times were ships, crafts. There's a sense of freedom when you fly and when you break from the earth. We wanted that, so we took it whenever we needed. It was good then. Life was good.
Well, not always. We got in too deep once. Some ape ruffian threatened us both. It was a day we wandered into a warehouse, thinking we could steal off of higher-level thugs. He caught me when I let my guard down, stopped blending in with the walls. He caught me in a tight grip and I tried to kick my way out. No good.
"Ha-ha! I think I'll torment you before I cook you!" He laughed while I struggled. After that, he brought out a small knife.
That about tore it for my partner, who finally came rushing over and slammed into the creep. They fought, but it came down to speed, not strength. I took a moment to run against the wall and blend in, hide again. Blue beak pressed the hoodlum into an adjacent wall, leaned close to him, whispered, no, hissed, loud enough for me to hear him:
"I think I'll torture you for a while!"
The thug knocked him off and they wrestled a bit. Now it was strength. Now, the bird was in trouble.
Before that, we practiced. He was handy with a few different blasters and other types of firearms. He was tough in a fight, but went down easy enough if you could nail him. I became skilled with blending into my surroundings, and playing up close with prey, getting intimate with them, lulling them into false sense of security. I never needed a blaster. All I needed was something sharp.
It wasn't far from me. Picked it up quickly and assessed their fight. Dim ape never heard, nor saw, me coming. It was my first.
There was something that switched in my partner's head. It was something that made him stop after that. Stop what we were. He went and found that floozy Katt, took off with them for over a year, left me to figure out my own path. I waited for him for a while, but eventually I fell into routines without him.
He betrayed me not long after that happened. BETRAYED IS EVEN TOO NICE FOR HIM MUCH TOO NICE
It was a Cornerian military base. That's where I went to get our next ship. He knew I would be there. He knew how to find me, with a nice pair of infrared goggles on himself. And he brought the whole blasted army along with him, gave them a whole show. I remembered to bring barriers with me, lots for military scum, but I didn't think I would need them for this. They were all concentrated on me. Every. Last. Weapon.
And he pleaded there, begged me quietly to stop here. He wanted to play hero, save face at the last minute. He wanted to be worshiped by everyone, be the big savior and get the cushiest adoration, universally accepted by all, even me. I gave the only retort I could think of, snapping, laughing: "Annoying bird! I am the great Leon!"
And then they fired. It was useless; they fired where they thought I was, where birdie tried to point them. No good, none of it. "Can't catch what you can't see," was that the other phrase? Either way, I was faster. Slipped away with ease. Burning hatred in my heart. Burning, yes. I burned what little he owned when I got back to our little hideaway. Burned it all. Burn, burn, BURN
Watching him feel hurt is something I'd revel in. I want him to feel some kind of pang in his heart. So I use those words against him, every so often I can. What our would-be-murderer told us. What he told him before I killed him. What I told him the minute I knew he chose to betray me. And I don't know if it hurts him, but I hope with all of my heart, my soul, every fiber of my being, that it does.
After that, I decided. I practiced every moment I wanted to spend on him on contracts, on people I was issued to, commissioned by anyone, sometimes my own. Months went by, before Wolf found me one day and decided that he could use the talent for long term. Wanted to kill. His target was a team called Star Fox. I wouldn't have cared until he listed the newest member: a brash, loudmouthed, blue bird. Sold.
We didn't click right away, but there was something he liked about me, something that convinced him to clean me up for a year, help me improve my dialect. He protected me too, kept me safe from trouble. I would have thought he'd clean house completely after the Andross assignment, but he kept me. We're not that close, but enough to understand one another, to work together. Be loyal.
And it's with him that I want to stay. I want to feel some closeness again. Rigid, cold, that's what I've become. He might help me, maybe Panther will. They're about as close to friends or family as I'll ever have.
Right now, they're all I need.
End Entry
Sign Off: Leon Powalski
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Author Note: There's Leon! Key traits that are known about Leon include: refined dialect (64/Lylat Wars), devolvement to borderline insanity speech (Assault, Super Smash Bros.: Brawl), and yet there was still hope for kindness somewhere in him (Command). That alone makes for a mess of conflicting viewpoints; combine it with the fact that this was the cold, calculating assassin writing about himself and needing to open up. Now that's what I call razor-sharp contrast! /unfunny, sorry.
So, how was that? I didn't think it was all that dark after I wrote it, but then I checked the rating guidelines (aw, I'm still a rookie that actually does that!) and thought, "There aren't too many young readers for Star Fox, right? It should be fine! But what if...ok, I better tone this down." I'm stubborn though, so I tried to keep the same ideas of the story, just less descriptive in certain parts. (For example, the part about the ruffian, if you couldn't guess, was...more violent when I originally wrote it.) So...yeah. If it's an issue still, I'm not sure how that works, but I'll up the rating or tone it down more if it's not good enough. Also, I don't claim to know anything about mental illnesses, so if that's also offensive, my apologies, and I will rewrite this. I like it being open to more audiences, but only if it's acceptable.
Ah, but moving on, I need to go back and explain the abundance of errors, which played into Leon's insanity. The idea was that he tried, a lot more often that anyone realized, to not think about his past, to keep himself in check, to use the vernaculars that Wolf taught him, but that there was just something, or someone (Falco), that just led Leon to lashing out. So, if you were confused by the sudden caps lock or sentence cut-offs, or the whole "arguing with self" moments, that's what it was for. If that's not clear, then I'll definitely rewrite this.
So, in a number of ways, Leon and Panther turned out to be opposites. Whereas Panther is light-hearted enough to write to anyone, Leon chose to write to himself. The cat was comfortable talking about his past, but not necessarily opening up completely, whereas Leon despised the notion, but felt compelled to do so anyway. Also, I wanted to save it for Wolf, but I felt like Leon needed to tie the team together too, which is why he mentions both teammates.
For those that are wondering about the Falco/Leon thing, they're rivals, so I wanted to give them reason. To not use the lengthy explanation I wrote up, I'll keep it short and say that "the bird" doesn't have an innocent past (implied in canon), which I felt Leon should have had a part in. It turned out to be really tragic, which I felt was perfect, and represents a true fallout. (Plus, I had to go somewhere with all of the "razor-sharp" descriptions they gave Leon, along with the "lock-on only, no lasers" gimmick that his ship in Command had.)
I'd go on, but that takes away too much, so if you'd like to know more, send me a comment, message, review, or whatever works. Comments and criticisms welcome! On deck is the team leader, Wolf. He's had more discussed about him than his teammates, but there's certainly some background to work with here. Thank you for reading!
