With a fizzle and a crack it shattered, languishing against the wall—sparking still. The body of the lamp lay broken, scattered into a hundred pieces or more, and still, he could not stop. Tearing the pillow from the bed Legoshi buried his face into it, screaming—howling, furious. In dipped his claws and out came the batting—even as his fangs gripped the pillow tore.
Everything burned. His mind—his heart—tearing his teeth free Legoshi spilled the stuffing across himself, like so much blood. This—this was his life. And he hated it.
Pain. Loneliness. Loss. He had tried to bury them—tried to hide them—tried to make them go away. They hadn't. They had rotted, full of maggots in his mind, and turned loose now, over something as stupid as a forgotten phone charger.
Hurling the savaged pillowed, Legoshi smashed his claws into the bedspread—ripping it apart with a scream. There was no escape. It never got better. No matter what he tried to do. Talking didn't help. Crying didn't help. Ignoring it didn't help.
Breaking things—ripping them apart—it did help. Yes. Absolutely. He was a monster—a wolf. All the lies in the world couldn't hide that truth. Snarling, Legoshi split the face of the mattress, drawing his claws into its flesh and sinking his teeth in behind it. Down and deep his muzzle dove—rooting inside the fabric for something—something to kill.
She was gone. There was no home for her to come back to. That was clear now. No one cared. Or they didn't care enough. Yes—it was that one. Even Gosha—his grandfather—he didn't care enough. Memories, he had memories of her—pictures. What did Legoshi have?
Another scream—muffled as it was—tore free of Legoshi's lips. What good was a shrine? What good was a home? What good was anything now? They always left him. They always ran away. They hurt and they fled and he hated them—even as he loved them.
Why did they leave? Why did they abandon him? Why didn't he matter to them the way they mattered to him? Out, his claws spread, beneath the flesh of the mattress, and then upward—handfuls of the stuffing trapped between his fingers.
They hurt him! Didn't that matter? It was supposed to matter! Wasn't it? Or was that just another one of those lies adults told children?
Or maybe they were just children too? Maybe they didn't know either? Maybe they only thought they knew because that was the way the world worked? Did that make it better? God. No. It made it so much worse. They would never understand then, would they? How much it hurt—not if they were running away from it too.
In the doorway, Louis shifted. His feet light, his eyes bright. Legoshi swiveled, facing the buck with the batting and tattered fabric of the room about his muzzle—like the organs of a slain beast. Angrily, Legoshi twisted, shoving the mattress with all his might as he faced Louis. The buck stared and Legoshi tasted judgment there. Even Louis thought he was a monster when he behaved like this.
"What." There was a growl on his lips, primal and furious still—heightened by the perception that the buck could not turn away or ignore the destruction Legoshi had wrought.
Down, Louis hand-dipped, to his waist and out something came. Florescent green and see-through, the plastic dripped with water as the contents inside sloshed about, "Chase me." There was a tremble in Louis' voice—fearful.
No. He didn't dare chase Louis. Not like this. No matter how angry he was. No matter how much he seethed beneath the gaze of the buck's judgment, real or imagined. "No."
The trigger squeezed, a spurt of water crossing the distance between them and landing in Legoshi's eye, "Chase me or I keep squirting you."
Did Louis not understand? How easy it would be to rip him limb from limb—did he not see the lamp, the window, the fucking bed? Why then was he doing this? The thought was interrupted by a second squirt. Legoshi snarled, baring his fangs, "Stop!"
"Chase me!" the buck countered, his legs shaking—a third squirt.
Legoshi howled, primal and fierce, and Louis turned in flight. Fine. If the buck wanted to be chased—if he wanted to risk his fucking life—who was Legoshi to decline. Baying, screaming, Legoshi leaped after Louis the world tinged red with rage.
Cries and shouts erupted and Legoshi could not care—not as they scrambled away, screaming in terror as his claws tore into the well-polished wood of the mansion's hallways. They were scared, and he loved it. It was freeing. Finally, he didn't need to hide. What he was—who he was—a monster that chased their would-be king! A sickening laugh leaped from Legoshi's lips as he sprinted madly towards the buck. There would be no way Louis could escape him. Not for long.
Louis, of course, realized that too. Towards the stairs, he turned, and with dancer's grace, bounded down them, four—five steps at a time. Skidding, Legoshi twisted, turning towards the stairs and throwing himself now down them, but over the banister with a howl. Somewhere guards screamed, the tell-tale crackle of tasers snapping as they charged. Yet they did not fire—for Louis jinked across their line.
Into a study, of all things, the buck leaped and Legoshi followed. They would kill him—and part of him reveled in the thought. Who cared? Really? So what—another dead body. Another worthless life cast aside. Because anyone had cared about him, really? Even the guards had squirmed before—and now he proved them right! Good! Let them kill him. An end, at last, to all the pain—all the misery. But first, there was a buck to throat—Louis wanted it; all his anger, all his fury—and Legoshi would oblige.
There, before a window to the green of the world beyond, Louis stood. He wouldn't get the window open in time. Not before Legoshi crossed the distance. Had he not realized it? Well, it wouldn't matter for much longer. Screaming, snarling—sobbing—Legoshi leaped towards his prey. The way the world had always been meant to be: Fang to flesh.
Louis swiveled, throwing his hands up toward Legoshi. Down, the wolf's jaws turned, cinching tight.
It was not bone nor flesh his fangs found.
It was a ball.
And the grin of a wild-eyed and terrified buck as they tangled together in a heap of limbs, tail, and antlers. Behind them, the guards screamed, and Legoshi's heart skipped a sudden beat, only for the buck to roll atop him—placing himself between their weapons and Legoshi.
Grass—sun-bleached rubbed—the taste was familiar, and the scent more so, mixed as it was with the scent of fear and sweat that sopped from Louis. Experimentally, Legoshi's teeth closed about it, gnawing—chewing—tasting the whole of the memory and what it had meant. Yes—everything was gone. There was still this though.
Even when he tried to throw it away.
Tears stained Legoshi's whiskers—a wretched and empty sob muffled by the ball in his teeth. The buck's arms turned, wrapping about him, holding him fast as the world shouted and demanded around them. But Legoshi could not hear them—he could hear nothing but the racing of his heart and that of Louis' against his chest.
Had...had he really tried to kill Louis? Yes. In a sense. He had hoped they would kill him too. With a tremble, the wolf slumped, knocking his head against the baseboard of the study.
Anger turned to guilt, and guilt to misery as one bled to another. With shaking hands, Legoshi returned the buck's embrace, even as Louis laughed. Thin, frightful, it was perhaps the happiest laugh Legoshi had ever heard. Born not of sarcastic amusement, but joy—joy that Legoshi was still Legoshi. And so the tears came thicker, more desperate—more despondent.
"He's fine!" Louis' laughed startled them, "He just needs space—" they didn't believe that—they couldn't trust that, and Legoshi couldn't blame them. No, they deserved to shoot him. He wanted them to. It would be better if they did. He wouldn't risk hurting others—especially when he was mad. What sort of beast threatened their friends?
A killer. A monster. A creature that didn't deserve to live. One that was abandoned over and over again. One that deserved such a fate, over and over again. Wretched, the sob fought from Legoshi's lips as he spat the ball out. He couldn't say it—no matter how much he wanted to. They were right. But he couldn't say it. Not with Louis there.
"He tried to kill you!" They called—there was no denying it.
Louis didn't even try, "I don't care! He's scared. And angry! I swear to God, if you even try it I will fire every last one of you!" he knew—he couldn't deny it. But it was his life to risk.
Legoshi seethed—why did Louis care when everyone else didn't? What did he see? Why didn't his mother see it? Why had she left? Why did Alessandra do what she had done? Why had his home burnt? Tighter, the wolf gripped Louis. Why was it Louis?
Slowly their shadows receded—and they with them. Soon enough they laid alone across the scuffed and scarred floor, the voices merely beyond the room, but daring to approach no closer. "You should have let them kill me," Legoshi whispered—anger still burned in his breast. He could still do it. They wouldn't be able to stop him now, not if he wanted to.
"Legoshi," the buck snorted, and Legoshi found Louis' eyes, "I know a lot about being angry—and I know that even if you mean it, in the moment, you would regret it."
He knew? Did he really? The anger flared, "What if I still mean it?" bearing his fangs, Legoshi stared into Louis.
Fear. Resolve. Understanding. Sorrow. Each mingled—and Legoshi hated them all. Out, his teeth darted, nipping ever so gently at the buck's neck. Yet Louis dared not hide it, instead, the buck repeated an action Legoshi had seen only a fleetingly few number of times: arching his neck, Louis surrendered his throat to Legoshi.
Legoshi seized it and the buck's lips touched his ears, "You think," Louis trembled, "Just because you're angry and scared that I stop caring about you? I've been angry and scared my whole life, Legoshi. You didn't stop caring about me."
On his ears, Louis' hands landed, and buck tugged him closer—forcing his throat deeper into Legoshi's jaws. There—he could feel every beat—ever stroke of the boy's heart. Like lightning, they thundered, chasing across his fangs. So close—so easy to take for his own.
He had cared about Louis? Yes. That—that was true. It was still true. He hadn't ever thought about it. It just—Louis needed someone. A friend. And—and even if they were different they cared about one another. Legoshi's teeth retreated.
Turning, Legoshi closed his eyes, "I'm sorry."
A hand gripped his muzzle, turning it back—nose to nose with Louis, "I don't want an apology. I want to know you're okay."
Legoshi shivered, "I'm not."
There was a flicker there, in Louis' eyes, "I noticed."
With a click, Legoshi snapped his teeth together, fighting free of Louis' grip on his snout, "Everything is wrong—everything keeps going wrong, and I can't make it any better."
"Sometimes we can't," there was pain behind those words, "Sometimes we just do our best, Legoshi."
"It isn't good enough."
"For who?"
"Anyone," squirming, Legoshi seized the ball once more, chewing on it methodically. It helped—sort of.
"Bullshit." Off, the buck rolled, flopping down beside him, "You're plenty good enough. For me. For Jack. Your grandfather."
They weren't who he was talking about though—not truthfully. "Momma isn't coming home," it sounded pitiful, and Legoshi grit his teeth all the harder about the ball.
The silence stretched as the buck blinked, staring towards the ceiling, "I—I never had one to lose, Legoshi. I don't know how to help. Or what I can say. All I know is that I'm still here." Down, Louis' hand reached, seizing Legoshi's—there the buck threaded his fingers between Legoshi's. "We've got each other."
Whispered, above the din of the voices beyond, Legoshi squirmed, "I just want someone to love me."
"Lots of people love you, Legoshi."
They did—but it wasn't the same. It would never be the same, there was no replacing that—what he so desperately was missing now, "I miss her."
Louis' fingers tightened, "Tell me about her?"
Slowly, Legoshi's eyes swept closed, "I miss the way she would sing me to sleep." So soft and gentle, so warm—her arms all about him. The darkness never was frightening then—not when she was nearby.
"Do you remember it?" Louis' smiled, Legoshi could feel it—and tentatively he accepted the invitation.
Humming, Legoshi repeated the notes, feeling the flicker of warmth cross his spine—he would always remember—how could he not? Her words, her voice—even now they felt far away, but the song never faded. Tears stained his eyes, happy and far away, and Legoshi trembled beside Louis. It didn't hurt any less, but it hurt a different way—a better way. To miss someone you loved so, in such a way.
They had hardly heard anything from Legoshi or Louis, and their teachers had provided no answers to the pair's whereabouts. Truthfully, Miguno had wondered if they would ever come back. And so when Jack had excitedly announced movie night, to the surprise of the dorm, they had stared at him like he had sprouted a second head. Of course, once he had declared the reason why—besides the fact they were officially 'unsuspended' again—the rest of 701 had naturally been inclined to excitement.
While it persisted for the rest of the dorm it had quickly receded in Miguno. Not that he didn't miss Legoshi, and Louis too, but for what it represented—an uncomfortable thought. He had been angry with Louis for hiding it at first—the truth about Alessandra, yet the more he thought about it the more the anger had bled away to depressed understanding. They didn't want anyone to know who she had been, what she had done—whatever the reason (and if Louis was right they had been told not to, even). There was a paradox now in his mind, that confusion born from a conflict of who she had been in his mind—the bon vivant, artise extraordinaire—and the cruel monster that had nearly slain his friends.
And the notes, glue-stick'd to the inside of his notebook were an ever-present reminder of both facets. A swan of grace and beauty, and limitless cruelty. He had kept the notes—and Miguno hated himself for doing so. They were important. Legoshi had brought them to him—and Louis a different set that said much the same (but were less jumbled). Had they suffered to bring him these? Had she always been like this? Why hadn't they said anything if she had? Surely they could have proven it sooner. Or had she lied to them too? There were too many questions and he did not dare to ask a single one of them.
The truth, sometimes, was far too scary to accept. That was itself a truth he lived with every day. One that became more obvious with each movie night. One that he could hardly admit because to admit it would ask more questions than we could ever dare to face. Let alone questions from others. No—sometimes it was just easier to pretend you were like everyone else. After all, he was a hyena in a canine dorm. Maybe things like this were just part of life.
The sun had hardly set when the first knock on the door sounded. Like a rocket, Jack leaped across the room, his tail wagging relentlessly all the while. Jack probably—definitely—missed Legoshi, and Louis, the most. Legoshi was practically Jack's Durham—which was a weird thought. Maybe Jack was Legoshi's Miguno? Miguno wasn't certain. But all the same, the lab beamed as he all but hauled the door off its hinges in his excitement—the backstop rumbling loudly in protest.
Out, across the short distance, Jack pounced, and a surprised deer bleated in mild terror as the world's worst predator jumped upon him. Louis flailed, stumbling backward into Legoshi, and in a pile, they collapsed.
"You're back! You're back!" singsong, the dog wriggled, rolling atop Legoshi and Louis alike with manic glee, "You guys missed so much! Everyone got suspended when we totally destroyed a cougar who was making fun of you—and then I got attacked—and then he got suspended for attacking me; then my parents came up and visited, and they brought so much candy Voss had to go to the hospital because he ate like three pounds of that sour-sweet candy powder stuff, you know the stuff my dad loves?—anyway, Durham dared him and Voss was so sick we thought he was gonna puke out his whole skeleton!" There was hardly a pause for breath in Jack's manic talking—especially as he buried the whole 'nearly getting ripped apart by the cougar' bit.
That was Jack in a nutshell though, nearly dying was hardly a bigger deal than Voss having his stomach pumped. To be fair, that had been a crazy night. Not that Voss had learned anything—except maybe moderation—as he had finished the rest of the bag once they had brought him home.
"Then—then Durham got a date! Dun dun dun! And he totally kissed her! She slapped him so hard his face swelled up for like two days! He was so proud!"
Durham grinned, "Still am!" Of course, he was—ladies man that he was. Miguno was jealous, really.
"And then we had to see the Headmaster again, and he was so irritated with us that he threatened to extend our suspension! But I told him we'd behave if we knew where you guys were—and I sent Louis like thirty texts—but he never responds! So he got irritated more but understood we were acting up because we worried, so then I begged him to let us have a movie night the night you guys were back—so we're having a movie night!" At last, Jack remembered to breathe, and Miguno sighed—Jack could sell snow to penguins. It was hard to believe the Headmaster had swallowed that excuse, but they were on the short leash now, especially with Louis and Legoshi back.
"I respond to a reasonable number of texts!" Louis grunted, squirming out from between Legoshi and Jack, "And it's sounding like all this candy I bought is going to be a waste then."
"Hand it here!" From atop Fort Collot, Voss commanded, his eyes already bright. This was how someone ended up with diabetes, honestly.
"You're really gonna risk it?" Collot chuffed, grinning, and Miguno sighed—why was it his responsibility to be the responsible one.
"He'll probably die," Miguno protested, closing his notebook—there was no point in trying to study now.
The deer laughed, and the fennec joined him—though perhaps for different reasons, "Your point being?" With a lazy lob, the bag of candy landed between Collot's legs.
"I love you too, prom date!" the candy-goblin that the fennec was descended, diving into the bag with a cackle.
"Swear to God, if you don't share I'm going to wrestle Collot for the right to wear you like a crown," Durham grunted—that was another thing they had started, wrestling. Voss the theoretical champion's hat—not that it seemed like that much of a victory to cart Voss around, per se. It was hilarious though—especially when they had arrived at the designated rooms for in-school suspension. They had nearly convinced the poor ewe that Durham was Collot, and Collot was Durham, and that she just couldn't tell canines apart. She had been apoplectic—threatening to call Gon on them if they kept it up.
They hadn't, of course. No one actually wanted to get expelled. Cherryton was amazing. Insane—but amazing. And for Miguno there was no other place to go—his mother had fought tooth and nail for him to be here, to not have to be stuck in a dead-end school that barely had the funding to fit kids, let alone had kids who wanted that even wanted to be in class.
"You respond to like three texts! A day!" Jack wailed, untangling himself from Legoshi only reluctantly. The dog craved affection. A day spent without a hug was almost torture for Jack, and Legoshi's absence had only made that more clear to the rest of the dorm.
"Do you need to tell me what is for lunch every day—when I am not even here?" Louis snorted, shaking his head, "Here ya go, Miguno," Miguno twitched at his name as a bag was lobbed towards him. With a thump it bounced past him—depth perception would never be his strong suit.
"Whatcha get me?" Miguno blinked, peeling the bag open—and to his surprise, it was more than just candy. Pencils, paper—the hyena squirmed—jelly beans, sodas, and—Miguno's stomach turned—a gift card? What—why? "What's up?" he buried the emotions, no one needed to know how awkward it felt, not if he hid it.
Louis shrugged, "It's your gift card for costume shopping—we're doing Halloween this year, on Oguma. S'like two hundred on gift cards for everyone. We cashed out a ton of points from a bunch of cards. Apparently, Oguma uses his card on everything, and then early pays everything—we had like a grand and a half in gift cards just waiting to be redeemed." A grand and a half—Miguno's mouth suddenly felt dry.
He couldn't imagine money like that—could he really spend this on something so stupid as a costume? What would his mother say? They would never be able to afford something like this. Was this really how other people lived? It seemed almost unfair. Miguno blinked the tears away before they formed.
"Dude, that's insane," Durham stared, agape, "Who does that?"
"It's Collot's birthday," Legoshi volunteered. It was? Oh. It was—well, the day before that was, "And Louis insisted." Because of course, he did—and it was an excuse to do something like...this. Miguno's stomach twisted up.
Hesitantly, Miguno objected, "This seems like a little much?"
"It was this or lingerie—and I figured Oguma would ask fewer questions about this," Louis laughed, all but cackling as he dropped onto the ground, "So did you miss us?"
"You, or your money? Sheesh," Durham snorted, "I think we missed the both of you more than the money, Louis." That was true—Miguno tried not to think about the money. It just freaked him out when he did, truthfully.
Legoshi hauled Jack through the door—the lab wagging madly as he hung suspended under the wolf's arm. Only a Jack could be so at ease like that, honestly, "Missed you both more than anything! Anything I say!" the dog whined, kicking and giggling.
"Sorry—my house sort of...burned down," Legoshi clearly reconsidered the thought half-way through, but it had escaped his brain all the same.
Miguno winced—this really was a bad year, wasn't it?
"The fuck?" out of the candy, a goblin sprouted, Voss' ears swiveling, "What the fuck do you mean it burned down? Was Louis burning matches down to the tips of his fingers in his desperate need to feel something?"
The buck tossed his head, "What does that even mean?"
"You're an edge-lord." Voss hardly skipped a beat.
Durham shifted to the edge of his bunk, "Seriously, what happened?"
The wolf squirmed, setting Jack down—only for the lab to launch into another frantic and protective embrace, "Someone did something." It was probably the worst lie Miguno had ever heard anyone ever give.
The coyote's face broadened, cracking into a grin, "Dude, can you be more evasive? There was almost a bit of useful information there!"
"Sorry."
"If you don't wanna talk about it, just say it—we'll respect your privacy." Durham shrugged, shaking his head as he opened his bag—candy rope, enough to choke a full-grown elephant, Durham's perennial favorite. Miguno made a mental note of that.
"Speak for yourself! Prom date, what happened?" Voss interjected, rumbling angrily, "If some crazy-ass fan did something, I am not above building a cannon!"
"No cannons!" Collot's hand landed atop Voss' ears, plucking the fennec from the ground, "You promised."
Voss sounded almost defeated, "Giant slingshot then."
The buck shrugged, "If Legoshi doesn't want to talk about it, just let it be." That was kind of a surprising vote of confidence—normally Louis blurted things out. Maybe they had to surprise him more to get that effect? Was it mean to startle herbivores for secrets? Ya—it was. On second thought maybe it wouldn't be good to pry.
"Is your grandpa okay?" that was right—Jack knew Legoshi before they had even ended up at Cherryton, he probably knew Legoshi's family.
Legoshi nodded, "Mm, ya—he's gonna be staying in the city for a while; he got offered a new job by a family friend, I guess," Legoshi didn't like that friend, whoever they were, "What are we watching tonight?"
"B-flick, horror flick, whore flick," Voss rattled off from between Collot's ears, "'It Ate My Brain', 'The Lonely Lands' and 'Naughty Nightie #2 – Hotel Whore'." Even hearing that last one made Miguno's ears burn. If his mother ever found out the things they watched.
Well, it probably wouldn't be the biggest secret he kept from her, actually. She'd still be pissed though. And over something he didn't really enjoy that much either.
Jack's ears perked and then dipped as the dog began a conspiratorial whisper, "Also! I totally didn't forget, but I might have forgotten to tell our other guests about the third movie."
Legoshi blinked, "Other guests?"
"Oh ya—when I was getting almost-killed two members of the drama club helped me! Bill and Riz, so I totally invited them to the next movie night!" Jack nodded excitedly—they seemed nice enough. Miguno could only balk at what they would think if they stayed around for three movies.
It was Voss' fault. When it doubt—it was always Voss' fault.
"So what you're saying is you have conned a pair of large carnivores into watching dirty canine smut—without them ever knowing, and you're proud of that fact," Louis prodded, and Jack seemed almost embarrassed for a whole twelve seconds.
Jack grinned, "Yup!" it never lasted though—Jack was just a Jack. There was nothing else quite like him. Even among other dogs, he was ridiculous.
"I thought Voss was the designated evil liar?" the buck snorted.
"I'm not evil!" with his widest puppy-dog eyes, Jack objected, "I'm adorably reprehensible!"
"Here here!" Voss cackled, "To the sneakiest of canines!" tilting his head back the fennec poured powdered sugar into his open mouth until it piled up, like sand—a mighty choke followed, predictably.
"Chokes-a-lot," Durham sniped.
"So does your mom," Voss returned, sputtering powder across the top of Collot's head.
The coyote grunted, shifting his fire, "Gremlin."
"Track and field." Voss grinned viciously.
"That's not an insult!" it wasn't until he started to take it that way—Durham knew that though, probably.
With a cackle, Voss swiveled, "Bitch, please. I've seen your meets."
Durham objected, "I didn't stretch!"
"Sounds like a lube problem," the fennec bowed, totaling Durham out. The coyote growled, flicking a length of candy rope at the goblin, only for it to be seized in the teeth of Fort Collot and devoured contently.
"The patient hunter waits for his delicious candy to come to him," Collot nodded, self-satisfied with his catch.
"God, do you spend hours coming up with insults staring in the mirror, or is it a trait of being an ankle-biter?" with a sighed of annoyance, Durham slunk back into his bunk.
Miguno jumped in,"Skill bonus due to being an ankle biter. Comes from being tiny, for sure."
"Okay cat-dog," Voss fired back, Miguno winced a bit—that one did sting a bit.
"Don't tease him about that," Durham returned, "Not his fault."
"Didn't say it was! But if me being short is on the table, so is him being a pussy!" Which was about as close as Voss ever came to saying something was off-limits, really.
"Fine, hate-hat," Durham grunted, and Miguno shifted awkwardly.
"That's better." Voss grunted—somehow being a hat was better than being an ankle-biter—apparently.
"You guys are vicious today," Jack whined, a cry for peace that was, at this point, unnecessary.
"Today?" Louis laughed, "Aren't they always."
"Only when we miss you, prom date." Voss shrugged, rolling his ears from side to side, "Pop in the first movie, they're supposed to be bringing your fabled drama-club popcorn."
"Fabled?" Legoshi blinked, "I thought it was pretty stale?"
"Honestly, it sounds like Bill blowing smoke," Louis sighed—that did sort of sound like how Jack had described the tiger, didn't it?
From deep within his bunk, Durham glowered, "Well, if it sucks it's your fault—you're the drama club members."
Louis frowned, unamused by the idea, "So I am responsible for concessions now?"
"Of course, you're their senpai!" Collot chuffed.
"I'm your senpai too, does that mean I'm responsible for all of you?"
"Well—duh."
"Pretty much."
"Kinda."
"Didn't you know that?"
"We're your idiots," Miguno cracked a smile, peering down from above as the dorm nodded as one.
A plaintive sigh escaped Louis, "I didn't ask for this."
"But you got us anyway!" Jack beamed, literally rolling across the floor.
"You can sick us on your enemies," Legoshi offered, his ears swiveled upwards.
For a moment, Louis paused, staring at the wolf—as if considering the offer for a long, lazy moment, "Now I just need enemies."
Legoshi had never experienced too much popcorn.
Twenty gallons was too much. The fact that Bill insisted they had started with double that seemed improbable. Then again, the drama club storeroom did have a lot of old stuff. Twenty pounds of old popcorn kernels wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. They really needed to clean that out.
Maybe he would volunteer to do that? It was probably something that needed doing. It wasn't like anyone else was doing it. That was something folks forgot, a lot, the stuff that needed doing that no one else would do. The little things. They weren't acting, or costume design, or maybe even all that important to anyone else—but without them things just sort of fell apart. People looked over those sorts of things a lot. Those sorts of people.
That was the kind of person his grandfather was. Even if Yafya was not. Gosha cared about people. How what happened affected others. That was what the Sublime Beastar seemed to lack over everything else. Legoshi felt confident he could say that now. Not that anyone asked. It was why he had understood when his grandfather had taken the job—at least temporarily, even if it meant long hours. That was okay—Legoshi was at school anyways. Or would be. Was again.
Whatever.
Bill hummed, "So what are we watching?" Legoshi had been surprised the tiger had come to Jack's defense. Pleasantly surprised, truthfully.
"Bad horror movie, good horror movie, amazing horror movie," Voss rattled off and Legoshi wondered if it was fair to play this prank on Riz and Bill. It was a little mean, plus it shared something that was supposed to be a secret. And the more people knew about it the more likely they were going to get caught, eventually.
The tiger chuffed, "Now I don't feel so bad about running late," back, towards the door, Bill sat as Riz simply pressed himself towards the wall—the doom of being taller than the rest of the dorm.
"That just 'cause you don't have an appreciation for fine cheese," the fennec snorted, pressing the play button once more.
Riz rumbled, a long popcorn bag crinkling, "Cheese?"
"Comically bad films," Collot nodded, shifting as he drew a blanket about himself.
Jack beamed, his tail thumping loudly, "It makes everything else better by comparison."
That was usually true, Legoshi could admit. Though it wasn't so much that they had planned it that way originally. There were just as many bad horror movies as good ones. Sometimes it was a pair of duds, and more rarely it was a pair of really good movies. Either way, the third movie was always. Ahem. Exciting.
Durham would ask the question Legoshi had noticed but chosen to ignore, "Why are you sitting over there?"
The tiger blinked, "Oh. Well," the feline's face screwed together, "It's a tiger thing."
"Well tiger thing or not, you can't see from there." Up, Durham's eyes darted towards Miguno, "Steal Miguno's bunk—he can't see from there anywhere."
"I can!" the hyena objected. He couldn't. Not nearly as well as he pretended he could.
The coyote snorted, "Oh ya? How many fingers am I holding up?"
Miguno retorted, "Four." Legoshi blinked—it was zero.
Crossing his arms, Durham issued the ultimatum, "Wrong. Climb down."
It never progressed beyond Durham making the demand, "Fine. Mom." The hyena grunted, nearly slipping as he dismounted.
Bill laughed, waving it away, "You guys really don't have to." He seemed uncomfortable—or terrified. Legoshi wasn't entirely certain. He wasn't used to this. Whatever this was precisely.
"Shut up and take the seat," Louis ended the complaint, even as the buck's eyes met Legoshi's. Louis had noticed it too. Were cats always this awkward? Or was it the close confines?
The tiger started only to abandon the objection, "Alright, I mean, if you insist." Cautiously the feline shifted, moving to the ladder and mounting it, "So how did this start?"
"Voss' brother has a huge collection of movies," Jack grinned—a twinkle in his eyes. When had Jack developed such a good sneaky streak? Was it Voss' fault? Probably was.
"Well—my dad does, we just have spent like our whole lives expanding on it. It's about as close to 'quality time' as we spend with the old man," the fennec shrugged, dialing the volume up.
"Ya?" the tiger's head tilted—a flicker of curiosity on his tongue.
"He works like fourteen hour days. Has since before I was born—pop in a pizza, throw on a movie, grab a beer, sit on the couch with us til he passed out. You know, that song and dance," Voss never really liked talking about his mother.
Uncertainty again crossed the feline's voice, "Ya." He didn't know that song and dance, at all, "What shit job does your dad have?"
"Engineering." A soda can hissed in Collot's lap, rising to meet the fennec, "Living that six-figure dream."
Somewhere above the feline leaned back, "Oh."
"Yup. What's your dad do?"
"My dad is a manager!" Collot chuffed, interrupting with a grin of his own.
Voss sighed, smiling all the same, "Not you—ya goofball." Collot was the lone soul exempt from Voss' vinegar, though the reverse was no always true.
"He—works in sales?" There was no confusion in Bill's answer—only that the question had been asked at all, "Mom does the mom thing."
"'The mom thing'?" Miguno blinked, lain flat beside Durham.
"You know—stays home and stuff."
Miguno seemed surprised—as if the idea had never occurred to him, "Nope? My mom works."
"Ya, mine too," Durham sighed, "Least she did till my step-dad got promoted."
"If the mom thing means 'being lock in an asylum' then ya, sure," Voss grunted, tossing his shoulders.
"Are like, Collot and I the only people who don't have massively weird families that live in this room?" Jack's ears quirked curiously, "'Cause I just noticed that."
"You're dogs," Louis snorted, "The rest of the world is differently-functional."
"Ooooh, I like that one!" the lab hummed, "I guess I never thought about it?"
"Hey. Wait. I resent the idea that my family is weird," Durham countered, "My step-dad is fucking awesome. When was the last time you guys got to see someone actually fire a firearm, huh?"
"Yesterday," Louis panned, drawing the room's attention, "Oguma apparently owns a rifle."
"Guys. I can't hear the movie," Riz objected ever so quietly, and the room hushed in response.
Two minutes into the third movie and his companion for the evening had fled, all but screaming.
The dogs were right. It was a horror movie. Just not in the way they had advertised. From his perch, Bill stared in shocked terror. Especially when the noises started.
Who the fuck watched this with other people? Dogs. Apparently the answer was dogs. Bill could have lived a lifetime without knowing that. Or nine. Hell, he could have been immortal and lived without ever having to know that. This was beyond awkward—beyond weird. This was the kind of shit you repressed and never once ever mentioned to anyone ever.
This. Of all things. Was the first time had seen a naked female. And it was being ruined. Worst of all he couldn't just cut and run. He wasn't gay. If he fled they would make fun of him—and that was worse than the sheer fucking awkwardness of it all. Oh. He hated this.
But this was also so much fucking ammunition. Louis liked dogs—err, well, bitches—that wasn't the point! The point was now—now he had something to use against the buck! Which probably, almost positively, made up for it. This was the kind of secret you could totally hold over someone, for, like, years. Did they know that? Had the lab, Jack, known? Was this some sort of weird twisted repayment?
Or maybe canines were just that freaking fucked up?
Well—whatever the truth—it was all Bill could do to watch and not cover his eyes. Not that it had stopped the lab, he had scurried off into bed, whining about how scary the next movie was. He wasn't fucking wrong—Bill would give the retriever that at least. Why the hell had he agreed to this?
Right, he hadn't known about this. That excuse totally wasn't going to fly though. Not if his roommates caught wind of this. No—he'd have to make something up. They would ask about the movies—they would be able to sense how much he didn't want to explain it to them. Oh fuck—this was a new form of hell. Typical—the moment he stuck his claws out for someone they got ran over by a freight train full of suck.
And the proportions. What the hell was wrong with the proportions! Why was he still watching this? Why couldn't he pull his eyes away from the sheer horror?!
Oh. Right. He was a male. And a teenager.
This—no this couldn't stand. He had to stop this. He had to say something. Not to a teacher—no, but he couldn't just sit here and watch.
How the fuck had no one reported them to the dorm mother yet! It was so fucking loud! People could probably hear it on the floor above and below! Was she a freak too? No—no, no, she was just mean. No one wanted to tell her anything if they didn't have to. Which probably explained the lack of narc-ing.
He couldn't hold it in, "You guys are fuckin' weird!"
"Fifteen minutes, pay me," the vulpine snorted, extending his hand towards the coyote.
The 'yote whined, "Oh come on, you couldn't have waited even like two minutes more?" Out the money came, a twenty, slapped into the contently grinning fennec's grasp.
"What?" Bill blinked.
"Durham thought you'd suck it up for at least twenty minutes, Billiam; you know what they say about a fool and his money, don'tcha, Durham?" the fennec cackled.
Holy fuck, really? "This—was just to fuck with me?" Bill couldn't believe it.
Louis piled on, drawling cynically, "Well, sure—what, you thought a bunch of dudes sit around in a circle and watch porn together?"
No. No of course not. This was—a huge prank? "Holy shit, okay—you got me. Jeez," backwards, the tiger sank, bouncing off the wall with a sigh, "Was gonna say there's no fucking way that's not enhanced."
"Enhanced?" Legoshi, of all people, tilted his head.
"His—ya know," Bill slapped his thigh and the wolf blinked.
"I thought it was normal?" What? No fucking way. That made zero sense. There was no chance in hell that was true.
"Seemed pretty normal to me," the fennec piled on—now he knew for sure—what a load of bullshit, "Self-conscious, purrvert?"
Bill ripped back, surging towards the edge of the bunk, "Fuck you, you couldn't fill a pencil case, pipsqueak!"
"Bitch—the vixen's know tripod when I come walking. What, you think I hang on top of Collot because I can? I'm dragging on the floor here."
The hyena's ears swiveled, "Does that mean you're constantly tea-bagging Collot?"
The sheep-dog snorted—it was a lie, obviously. It literally had to be. That made zero fucking sense. The sort of boast a dumbass made. Maybe Legoshi—big predators had more variety, right? Why the fuck was he focusing so much on this!
Bill's ears seethed, aflame with shame and frustration, "You're so full of shit even your service dog is giggling, satellite dish."
The fennec's eyes narrowed, "Oooh, satellite dish—haven't heard that one in the past two days. Whatever you say, Willy." The sheep-dog choked, covering his mouth as popcorn escaped.
"Fuck you." Bill snapped, flashing his teeth.
"Fuck me yourself, you coward—you got intimidated and now you think acting like the big cat will hide how much of a bitch you are. You're so small they need GPS to find it," the fennec snarled and Bill paused for a moment. The rat had some fucking bark, that much was for sure.
Bill's blood boiled, "I'm fucking huge. You want me to prove it, you little shit?" Why was he going to prove it—what a horrible plan this was. It was too late, the challenge was issued.
Voss bellowed, "Prove it then—you neutered queen!" the room tensed and Bill leaped, not upon the fennec, but to the floor with all the grace of his feline kith.
Boldly, proudly, the tiger tugged his trousers and shorts to the ground, "Boom! Headshot!"
The whole room stared and Bill scoffed.
Louis sighed, "Fucking really?"
"I'm not looking!" the still very-conscious lab loudly attested.
Legoshi blinked, "Huh." It was a vote of confidence, surely!
"I respect the game, but dude, making a boast because you think you're on target is a total fucking disaster," the coyote, Durham, covered his eyes. Bill's confidence crumbled.
Wait. What?
The fucking fennec laughed next, at the top of his lungs. Tipping backwards from atop the sheep-dog and to the ground with a loud thump, "Holy shit. Maybe I should date a big cat! She'd fucking love me!"
What?
The hyena winced, looking away, stealing a second glance before his eyes dart out the window.
Bill turned and ran.
"Pull them up!" The sheep-dog barked, and Bill paused only long enough to manage just that. Fleeing for his life with his pride shattered. Of all the stupid fucking things. Why did he—it didn't matter. He'd never speak of this again—fuck the fennec.