AN: So, confession time. I haven't been able to do a whole lot of writing lately. It's been a crazy couple of weeks. I had my midterms, then I had my big writing assignment for the semester due, and then literally right after that there was a two-or three day period where it looked like I was gonna be homeless for a while. Thankfully things are...better, and they should be back to normal in a couple of weeks. But yeah, haven't really been in a proper headspace to write for a bit. But every now and then I'd come up with a couple of jokes, and writing down enough of those let me get this out. So that's something. Hoping I might be able to return to a more regular writing schedule once my finals are over in December.
In the meantime, my friend Zeobide wrote a Stupor Heroics lewd with my blessing, Stupor Heroics: Loud Friction. So anyone who's been jonesing for some Stupor should check that out. And he may or may not be working on another related thing, which might help to scratch that itch as well. So keep an eye out for that too.
Wolvenstrom: I wouldn't worry about that. This is supposed to be a fairly short story, and Ronnie's only going to be in the first part. We'll see what, if anything I end up doing with her in the long term. Hoping I'll be able to get back to the Shazam stuff too eventually.
Jeff: I figured it was overdue.
Kamen Rider Ranger: Glad you liked it. I did the Carlota fakeout as a gag, but I ended up having fun writing her like this, so this story happened.
"So…" Said Ronnie, subconsciously wrapping her ponytail around one finger.
"SO…" Lincoln replied in kind, scratching the back of his head nervously.
This exact exchange had been repeating on loop for minutes on end. The average person, possessed of an ordinary amount of humor and sentimentality might have found the sequence to be amusing, possibly even endearing. But everyone has their limits—
"AAAARG!"
And Carlota had just hit hers. With a roar of frustration, the Upscaled young woman lurched forward and pulled Lincoln into a headlock. "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!"
"W-WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" Lincoln stammered. Actually, the words were significantly more muffled, likely due to the fact that the Loud boy's face was now planted firmly in the older woman's considerable cleavage, but he still managed to speak with remarkable clarity, given the circumstances. Almost as if this was a common-place occurrence for him.
A short distance away, the mysterious fog that had been clouding Ronnie's higher brain functions suddenly cleared, leaving the raven-haired girl in full possession of her mental faculties once again. The world snapped back into focus, colors and sounds abruptly reasserting themselves, almost as if she'd just woken up from an impromptu nap.
Which is why it was all the more shocking for Ronnie when the first thing newly revived brain functions took notice of was the sight of Lincoln being steadily smothered by two helpings of Carlota.
Words were coming, Ronnie could feel them pooling in her throat, but before she could properly assemble a response, a sharp pain in her right hand jolted Ronnie from her short lived reverie. Glancing down, she saw that her fingers were clenched into a tight fist, the kind that made her knuckles bulge outward and whiten, ever so slightly.
Ronnie Anne, her fist seemed to say. Wield me, and together we shall purge this wretched world of all impurities!
...That...was probably the result of her having woken up way too early. And also, possibly, an indicator that she should have checked the expiration date on her abuela's sausage. With a bit of exertion, Ronnie managed to unclench her fist—
Nooo! Undone in the prime of my youuuuth!
And turned her focus to the gigantic pair of Lincoln and Carlota, the former still grappling the latter's gigantic pair. A quick mental inventory revealed that now, all she was feeling was perfectly ordinary rage. Much better. Now she could begin…
"Hey, Lame-O!" She barked, jabbing one finger toward the boy in question. "Hands off my cousin!"
A tremor shook the ground, causing Ronnie some momentary trouble with maintaining her footing, but it stopped about as quickly as it began, and when it was over, Lincoln was standing a good distance away from the now perplexed-looking Casagrande.
Carlota blinked in disbelief, looking from the action-figure-sized Ronnie Anne, to the larger-than-life Lincoln, who was now standing perfectly still, with both hands raised into the air, as if in surrender.
She sighed and shook her head. "SERIOUSLY?" She said, incredulously.
"Okay, so now that we've got that sorted out, what exactly is...this—" Ronnie vaguely gestured to the two Upscales, who were now standing on opposite sides of the balcony. "—About?"
"I TOLD YOU, CUZ" Carlota said, exasperated. "LINCOLN'S MY—"
She took one step toward the younger boy, and immediately he responded by taking a step in the opposite direction. Carlota took another step, and again he matched it, this time earning a scowl from her.
"...MY CLIENT," She growled, through gritted teeth. "WHO, BY THE WAY, I NEED TO BE ABLE TO INTERACT WITH TO DO MY JOB!"
This, was somehow the weirdest thing to have happened to Ronnie all morning.
"But...you're a fashion sales rep." Said Ronnie, incredulously. "Or...something. Right? Why would you be meeting with someone who's barely on his...what, second outfit? Ever?"
"TECHNICALLY, THIRD" Lincoln interjected, tugging absentmindedly at his shirt. Which was true, she supposed. From what Ronnie had seen via news coverage, after being Upscaled, Lincoln and his sister had been forced to clothe themselves in whatever could be thrown together on short notice. Which had essentially amounted to patchworked rags for both of them. Now that Upscaling had become more widespread, thereby creating demand for products that could fill the needs of the burgeoning Upscaled population, a number of companies had come forward and attempted to fill that need, hoping to get a foothold by striking while the iron was hot. Naturally, clothing had become one of the first, and most heavily sought-after commodities.
And on that front, things had improved. The Loud boy still wasn't anywhere close to fashion forward, but he'd managed to upgrade his look somewhat, possibly thanks to the efforts of his similarly Upscaled sisters. While he was still wearing what essentially amounted to an oversized t-shirt, which preserved his modesty by hanging down past his knees, this one was made of actual fabric, like what a normal person might wear. Granted, he'd still opted to get it in the exact same shade of orange he'd always worn for some inconceivable reason…
That last point caused Ronnie to look at her wayward friend with a more appraising eye, and in spite of herself, she found a small smile threatening to tear its way onto her lips. There was something...strangely comforting about how little Lincoln had changed in spite of everything that had happened over the last year. Yes, he was the size of a house, and yes, his formerly doughy body was lean, and bulged pleasingly in multiple areas (which she needed to take special care to not let her gaze linger upon). But between the eye-gouging shade of orange, and that doofy, buck-toothed smile that came far too readily to him, it was clear that Lincoln was still the same old Lame-o he'd always been. There was just...more...of him. She supposed she couldn't even really fault him on the orange, now that she thought about it. Yes, that particular shade tended to leave one seeing spots long after it had left their line of sight, but it brought out the color of his eyes in a way that she'd always found—
"YOU OKAY, RONNIE?" Lincoln asked, concern evident on his face as he leaned down to get a better look at her.
Ronnie's response was to give herself a good smack across the face.
"Totally fine," She said, nonchalantly.
Lincoln and Carlota exchanged confused glances, then turned their attention back to Ronnie, as if waiting for some kind of elaboration on...whatever that was. But Ronnie seemed content to leave things where they lay.
"...OKAY THEN," Carlota said uncertainly. "ANYWAY, YEAH. LINCOLN HERE HAS A FASHION ISSUE THAT HE NEEDS A CONSULTATION ON. BUT SINCE HE WAS GONNA HAVE TO COME ALL THE WAY OUT HERE ANYWAY, I THOUGHT IT'D BE A NICE EXCUSE FOR THE TWO OF YOU TO RECONNECT. SO…"
Carlota trailed off, clearly expecting someone to pick up the conversational thread. But no matter how long she drew out that last, elongated syllable, nothing seemed forthcoming.
"SO...YEAH," She finished, somewhat lamely, glancing between Ronnie and Lincoln. "YOU GUYS CAN...FEEL FREE TO START...CONNECTING. DON'T HOLD BACK ON MY ACCOUNT."
Again, the pair exchanged awkward glances, and again it wasn't long their eyes slipped free of each other, each finding something far more interesting to look at, which was conveniently located someplace entirely different. Mere nanoseconds later, the two were right back where they'd started.
Carlota twitched in mild irritation, but rather than speak her annoyance aloud, she settled for taking a deep, calming breath instead. It didn't escape her notice that as she did so, Lincoln's gazed briefly snapped to her chest as it gently rose into the air, and then returned to it's natural, resting state.
"Well," She thought, smiling in bemusement as Lincoln hurriedly glanced away again. "I tried. Nobody can say I didn't try. So nobody can blame me for what happens now...right?"
Almost as if the universe was responding to the unasked question, the door to the Casagrandes apartment slammed open, drawing the trio's attention to the now-opened portal—
"Roooooooooonnnnnnnnniiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee Aaaaaaaannnnnnne!"
—and the blue and brown blur that dashed through it, flung itself into the air, and affixed itself to Ronnie's face, nearly bowling the girl over in the process.
"I'm going to take that as a 'yes'", Carlota thought, dryly, as she watched her miniature, freshly cousin, desperately struggle against a face full of still-wailing Sid Chang.
"Sid…" Ronnie hissed as she tried to dislodge her friend from her person. However, the other girl proved remarkably adept at evading Ronnie's grasping hands. In spite of the fact that Ronnie's face provided very little real estate with which to attach one's-self, Sid repeatedly managed to deftly nudge herself away from Ronnie's hands without coming anywhere close to dislodging herself from her perch. It was tempting to think that the brunette was doing this on purpose, but the nonstop stream of incoherent babbling spewing forth from the other girl had quickly shot down that theory. Sid was simply being Sid, for better or worse.
Finally, Ronnie had the presence of mind to feint to the left before immediately flinging her arms in the opposite direction. Her crow of triumph, as she felt the familiar fabric of Sid's sweater between her fingers quickly turned to a wail of despair as the material instantly began sliding through her fingers, but with a mighty grunt of exertion, Ronnie managed to press her hands together until they finally found purchase. Despite starting somewhere on the other girl's upper body, she was surprised to now find herself only barely holding onto a single ankle. But for her purposes, that would be enough. Sucking what little air she could into her constricted airway, Ronnie squared her feet, and pushed off, whipping around in a tight circle.
"Get…OFF!" She yelled, managing to harness just enough centripetal force to pry Sid off her face, and fling her away. Vision, and more importantly oxygen returned to her once more, Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief.
...one which immediately turned to a gasp of concern as she saw Sid's body gracefully arcing through the air, before abruptly plummeting to the ground. Ronnie lurched forward, her hands once again reaching out toward her friend, only to fall short as Sid slammed into the ground—
SQUEAK
—which, oddly enough, caused her body to make a sound, not unlike one of Lalo's chew toys, rather than the sicking splat one would have expected from a human body. Apparently still possessed of kinetic energy to spare, Sid bounced straight up into the air again, and then returned to the ground—
SQUEAK
—again
SQUEAK
—and again
SQUEAK
—and...was it possible she was somehow milking this?
After five bounces, Sid miraculously landed lightly on her feet, without even a stray hair out of place to indicate the bludgeoning she'd just suffered. Dumbfounded as she was, Ronnie was also relieved. Denied her sight, Ronnie had been forced to throw her friend blind, and unfortunately, she'd ended up flinging the overly excitable girl towards the balcony. Thankfully, small miracles being what they were, Sid's impromptu flight had ceased just before the guard rail. Another bounce like the ones she'd been subjected to, in spite of how hilarious they'd been, might have sent her sailing over the edge.
"UHHH…."
Sid blinked in surprise was the unexpected utterance, and whirled around, now finding herself face to...err, upper abdominal region, more or less, with the overgrown Loud boy, who'd apparently been dutifully standing there as the two friends had resolved their impromptu encounter. Sid's head craned upwards, and eventually, the two sets of eyes met. Sid's slender frame grew noticeably more rigid, and it suddenly occurred to Ronnie that this would be the first time Ronnie's two best friends had met each other since Lincoln had undergone his transformation. As the seconds stretched on, a flash of anxiety fluttered in Ronnie's chest, fearful that something...Sidister would take place, one that would make things even more awkward than they already were.
So it was to Ronnie's great relief, when Sid flung her arms wide, and shouted a greeting to the much, much taller boy.
"Lincoln!" She exclaimed, a big smile blooming across her face. "It's been so long!"
Apparently Ronnie hadn't been alone in her trepidation, because Lincoln frame grew noticeably more relaxed.
"HEY, SID" He replied, returning the girl's smile with one of his own, albeit significantly more awkward looking. "YEAH, IT'S BEEN A WHILE."
It was...a refreshingly simple exchange, and one which finally allowed Ronnie to breathe a little more easily. Content, that the pair seemed to be falling into a dynamic not too dissimilar to the one they'd had before, Ronnie began plodding over to join them.
Sid leaned forward, resting her arms upon the railing, and placing her head in her hands. Allowing her to look more fully upon the oversize boy, her smile continued to grow as she took in the sight of him.
"So…" She drawled, winking coquettishly at the paled hair boy, "How are you doing?"
...And then, Ronnie began to walk a little more quickly.