Hello, everyone!
New update is here! The last three POV chapters weren't much to go off of or in terms of development. But here is where our story resumes and I really hope you guys like it!
This is a slow burn as I said but I hope to keep you entertained until it gets to the good parts XD
Until then, enjoy!
Act 1 Part 5- Ball In Your Court
Two years later
Boomer loved sunny days. They were his favorite. Townsville being on the West Coast, there were plenty to go around but you could never have too much of a good thing.
Warmth didn't seem to overheat his trademark blue sweater, nor the black jeans covering the lower half of the body. Brick and Butch were out getting...er stealing a couple of sandwiches and a few sodas. They'd told him to wait here and so he did. On a sunny occasion such as this, he didn't mind. It gave him time to let the mind wander and just enjoy things as they were.
Moderate temperatures, leafy trees, the sound of laughter and people having a good time...it filled him up with joy.
He stood on the edge of a fence bordering a black top which also lay adjacent to an overgrown baseball field that clearly wasn't kept up all that well. No matter. What mattered was that people were having fun. In private moments such as these, Boomer loved fun. Fathers, mothers, sons, daughters simply enjoying time with each other was a treasure.
He idly placed himself in the same position. Brick told him not to get his head stuck in fantasies that weren't possible but he couldn't help it. The idea of a true family being happy together in such a natural environment appealed in a way nothing else could.
"Hey, idiot!"
After all, it wasn't like he had anything to compare it to.
"What?
Something soft and spongy smacked him in the face. Looking down, he saw a sandwich wrapped in plastic but upon closer inspection it looked like…
"Egg salad," he said with disgust. "Dude, what the hell? I hate egg salad!"
Brick and Butch looked as though they didn't have a care in the world as they muched on their respective meals.
"Yeff, sorry dude. Da place we robbed wuz out of turkee," Butch said through a face full of bread and meat.
"So why couldn't you get me something else?"
"Short on time," Brick answered as he scarfed down what looked like an Italian. "You know how every burger joint in this city has a hotline button to those Powerpuffs."
He was tossed a drink in a plastic bottle which distinctly read 'Pepsi' on it and he made a face of disgust.
"I hate Pepsi too! What happened to orange soda?"
"Again, short on time."
Boomer could have sworn he saw a malicious glint in Brick's crimson eyes when he spoke those words. Sometimes, he believed his two older brothers existed just to make his life harder.
"I want another one."
"Too late, dumbass. Eat what you have like a big boy and man up. You can come along and pick out what you want next time."
Boomer felt a surge of raw fury course through his veins as he threw the sandwich on the ground and crushed it in revulsion with his foot.
"You told me to stay here!"
"You didn't object, stupid."
"Don't call me stupid!"
"Well if the sandwich fits," Brick laughed and Butch began guffawing along with him as the egg salad squelched in between his converse all stars.
Something snapped in Boomer at that moment. Why were his brothers so...needlessly cruel? He proceeded to toss the Pepsi in the air and blow it to bits using his heat vision, spraying both siblings in a bubbly, brown wave of artificial sugar and preservatives.
"At least I'm smart enough to get an order right!" he spat.
Brick's retaliation was swift and decisive as he rushed forward and grabbed the collar of that blue sweater and lifted Boomer up into the air.
"Are you smart enough to shut your mouth when I tell you to?"
The silence spoke volumes.
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
Boomer wished he had a bit more fortitude to stand up to Brick sometimes. But what was he going to do? Run off and go into the business of crime on his own? There was no way he could do that by himself. His brother's menacing, crimson gaze ensured that.
"You can pick up a sub on your own time. In the meantime, go fetch us a ball. We're bored."
"From...uh, where?"
Brick smacked a hand to his forehead while Butch began sniggering loudly.
"From the playground, dumbass. I assume even you can steal a ball from a little kid. Meet us back at the high school football field over on the other side."
"Yeah! Be useful for once."
Boomer gave a huff and flew off as the echoes of his brothers' insults continued to haunt him.
Dumbass!
Be useful for once
Suddenly, he felt a burning sensation in his chest and throat. Realizing he was about to cry, he mentally smacked himself and held it back. No, he wasn't about to shed tears. He was a Rowdyruff Boy! Boys didn't cry like sissies! He was better than that.
"I'm not dumb," he repeated to himself over and over again. "I'm not dumb. I'm just as good as they are."
He absentmindedly scanned the people below him, the same families he'd just wished to be a part of were the ones Brick had designated to steal from.
Well, in any case, it wouldn't be a good idea to steal with witnesses. Just find someone alone, snatch the ball, and take off. Easy enough, right?
The trouble was, every kid seemed to be accompanied by a parent or guardian of some kind. No matter where he looked, an adult figure hovered not too far away. It's not that he really cared that much. He could beat any of them up. But the last thing he wanted was a screaming child which would then alert that screaming Powerpuff Girl.
His eardrums practically bled as the memory of one her accursed screeches came back to him.
No, he did not want that.
Finally, at long last, he found exactly what he was looking for. A lone, sandy haired boy of no older than seven was tossing around a football by himself. Perfect.
Setting himself down on the grass, the kid was unaware of the potential bully until smacking straight into his chest.
"Huh? What?"
Boomer was at least five inches taller than the pipsqueak in question and the intimidation rankled through his bones.
"Who..who are you?"
The next series of movements were swift. Boomer knocked the ball out of the kids hands, sped past and cradled the pigskin like a running back.
"Hey! That's mine! Give it back!"
"Oh, yeah? You want to do something about it?"
Boomer was almost bored as the stupid kid attempted to tackle him to the ground, the little legs feebly working against the Chemical X that powered his body. As though he were a fly buzzing around, he sent the kid back to the ground with a simple swat.
"Sorry, kid. Nothing personal. I need a ball. Get a new one."
Salty tears and snotty discharge began emanating from the little boy's nose and eyes and he began quietly weeping.
"Crybaby," Boomer muttered. But something about the kid breaking down like that made him extremely uncomfortable as a knot began twisting inside his stomach. It was unfamiliar and he did not like it one bit.
Come on, just fly off and forget about it
But he remained glued to the ground and unable to look away. Despite all his self proclamations as 'bad' and boasting of being a Rowdyruff Boy, something about this felt fundamentally wrong.
He would soon regret his own hesitation. A familiar, high pitched feminine voice sounded behind him.
"Give the ball back, meanie. Now."
Bubbles Utonium stood in front of him looking as 'Puffy' as ever: blue dress, white tights, polished Mary Janes to go with her trademark pigtails. She was taller now but those piercing, light blue eyes were as potent as ever. Boomer often wondered why his brothers considered Buttercup to be the scariest Puff. For all of Bubbles's innate sweetness he had been on the receiving end of her temper more times than he could count.
That didn't mean he'd back down.
"Make me," came the aggressive reply.
"I mean it, Boomer. Give it back."
"What're you gonna do? Beat me up? You don't got any of your sisters with ya this time."
Far from heeding the snide reply, the blue Puff stood her ground. Were those tear stains on her cheeks?
"I don't need them to prove myself."
Boomer raised an eyebrow at that statement.
Wait, what?
His momentary lapse in concentration cost him. A fist rammed into his face and the football went flying. Rubbing the side of his cheek, he saw Bubbles zoom past and attempt to scoop up the ball.
Oh, no you don't!
He used his eye beams to push the ball out of her reach and returned to his feet. He quickly caught her with a burst of speed and snatched the ball away before she could do the same.
"Gotta be quicker," he taunted.
Bubbles responded with a determined screech and gave a kick in his stomach that temporarily knocked the wind out of him as well as the ball.
She triumphantly caught it before it hit the ground and raced off, but Boomer quickly regained his bearings and followed.
"I stole that ball fair and square!" he yelled.
"Stealing isn't being 'fair and square'!" she responded in kind.
"Yeah well...your dress is stupid!"
"WHAT?"
Boomer grinned at his own ingenuity as she stopped dead in the air at the insult.
*Whoosh
"Interception!" he cried out triumphantly, plucking the ball from her in a dark blue blur.
"You big doo doo brain! Get back here!"
"Neh, neh, neh, neh, neh."
He stuck out his tongue and flew off, but Bubbles kept pace aiming a few punches which he managed to block only using a single arm while also using the football as a shield. This did not deter the blonde puff and she managed to grab onto the collar of his sweater and pull him down.
They punched, kicked, and screamed as they hurtled with increasing speed towards the ground.
KABOOM
The resulting crash turned several heads. But the two blondes carried on their fight, all manner of dignity forgotten as they tugged the ball back and forth.
"Let go!"
"Never!"
"LET GO!"
"NO!"
Boomer gave an almighty kick and sent Bubbles on her back. Both ten year olds immediately popped up ready to resume their fight. But there was a curious look in the blonde girl's eye. She cocked her head to the side and began to study him as though he were some vaguely interesting piece of art, the aggressive stance subsiding into curiosity.
"What?" he asked rudely.
"Boomer…" she said slowly. "Why did you steal that ball?"
The question was so simple and ridiculous, he could practically hear Brick sneering at it.
"Duh, cuz I want to play with it."
"That's not what I asked."
What do you mean? Of course that's what you asked?
Boomer felt confused. What was this Puff trying to pull? Unless she meant something else?
"Why did you steal it?" she inquired again with those bright sky blue eyes of hers staring intensely.
"Cuz...cuz my brothers wanted me to."
"And did you want to?"
Boomer scratched his head.
"Not really, no."
"So why steal it?"
He paused before coming up with the proper answer. An honest one.
"So I won't get treated like a baby. To prove I'm not a dumb."
Again, she kept looking at him with that weird gaze. What the heck was she doing? Stop that!
"I understand."
That, he had not expected.
"What?" was all that came out of his mouth.
"Your siblings don't think much of you sometimes. I get that," she said quietly. "But that still doesn't make it right to take it out on other people."
"Wha-What do you know?" he practically sputtered.
"I know that you're hurt and angry," she responded softly. "I also believe you know the difference between right and wrong. So choose the right thing. Give the ball back."
Boomer's eyes nearly popped out of the sockets. Was this Puff crazy? Why would he give it back after going through all the trouble of stealing it? Of course he knew the difference between right and wrong. That's why they were bad. Or at least according to Brick.
He wanted nothing more than to tell her to eat dirt. Maybe rush forward and give a pull on one of those stupid pigtails. Yeah that would show her! That would prove to Brick and Butch he wasn't dumb or weak or useless!
But he couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to, no matter the inclination, Boomer found himself unable to commit a foul deed worthy of the Rowdyruff name. Bowing his head in defeat, he tossed the ball back without fanfare.
"Here's the stupid football," he said, as she caught it awkwardly. "I didn't even want it anyway."
He didn't bother apologizing. He didn't need to. The action was enough. Slowly, Boomer flew off leaving his female counterpart somewhat flabbergasted but eyeing him until the moment he was out of sight.
She quickly gave the ball back to the original kid and waved the onlookers away.
"It's okay, cutie. He won't bother you anymore."
"T-Thanks. B-Bubbles."
"Aww, don't cry. Here, let me get that for you."
Bubbles wiped his tears and gave a wide smile. She was glad to cheer anyone up, but this latest incident proved something else to her.
You were right, daddy…
Boomer could have predicted the reaction he received upon meeting his brothers by the high school football field.
"Dude, what took you so long?"
"Yeah, and why do you have a tire? Where's the ball?"
He touched the ground without saying a word. Brick was studying him up and down in a way that was far too analytical for his liking. Butch merely looked pissed off.
"Any particular reason you're covered in grass stains?" the eldest asked pointedly.
"Never mind that. The ball! The ball!" Butch twitched. "Where is it? Or were you too stupid to even get that ri-"
WHAM
Boomer slammed the tire against Butch with such force it drove him into the ground like a railroad spike.
"I decided to get something else instead. And I invented a new game: hit someone with a tire until they say 'stop hitting me with a tire'."
He looked over at Brick, who to his relief, started laughing hysterically and flipped back his shoulder length hair.
"Oh man, that was awesome, Boomer. This is definitely the best idea you've had in awhile."
Dazed, Butch wobbled a bit before digging himself up from the ground. Brick took the tire and hit him again, standing over him imperiously with a devilish grin.
"Come on, Butch. Don't tell me you're wimping out on us."
"Hell no!"
That sparked what Boomer referred to as the 'crazy eyes' in Butch as he stole the tire back and hit Brick in kind. It set off a chain reaction as each of the boys began wrestling and play fighting in the afternoon sun, laughing and cavorting about as they pleased.
Boomer suddenly felt very proud of himself. He was back in their good graces again.
So why couldn't he get Bubbles' words out of his head?
I know you know the difference between right and wrong
Honestly, girls were so weird sometimes.
Hmmm, perhaps Bubbles senses Boomer isn't so bad after all. But what about the other two counterparts?
Find out soon!
~The wasp