Hello, welcome. I have a tale for you to hear; one of friendship, trust and
love, and hopefully from it you will learn that bottling up ones feelings
can cause more upset than need be.
My story begins in Chicago, in a lone garage, one sunny, and bright
morning...
The Martian sat glassy eyed watching the water pour out of the tap. Though
his attention was else where.
The day before his grey furred brother had been sorely reminded of his past
by that over-ripen, over ugly, excuse for life. Lawrence Limburger. Of
course after they'd blown up his tower Modo had let it get to him to the
point where he was holding back both anger and a tear. This had happened
several times since they had crashed on Earth to both Modo and Throttle,
though Modo being that bit more sensitive made it harder for the younger,
white furred brother, to cheer him up. He never let it get to him, joking
around, winding them up. The only care he had in the world seemed to be
where the next batch of fun was to be found.
Now these bouts of depression weren't a regular thing, they were few and
far between, and something specific had to trigger them off, except for
this one day. A day that should be seen through their eyes, as that way my
friend you may get a better feel for the story about to unfold...
Throttle:
Something was definitely wrong. Vincent didn't act like this ever not since we were kids and he 'lost' both his parents, even then he shared it with us when we asked. I can also see that its bothering Modo, just as much as it is me.
I went over the day before several times in my mind - when Limburger had taken Carbine, Rimfire and Charlie hostage. But then Vincent seemed his usual angry, adrenaline filled and crazy self, all because Charlie was in danger. He hasn't fallen for a girl like that since Harley though he has flirted with. Even then he was bummed when he lost her, but then we knew why and could help. He didn't have a chance with losing his face, and we were their supporting him, and soon after he was back to his bragging self. Maybe it had brought it all back up again. Still it didn't add up, why get all melancholy now. The only time yesterday he wasn't his usual hyperactive self, was at what Modo had said : "Your right bro, I shouldn't let it get me down" He'd said "You never let anything effect you, its as if your heart was made of Plutarkian steel, you've no cares in the world, and you of most have had the hardest life. I wouldn't have been able to take it as you have." Yet all Vinnie did was look a little taken back, and only briefly. I put it down to the word Plutarkian. Well asking him didn't work but I had hoped the ball game would. No dice. He was bowling the ball half heartedly in a competition. A competition and Vincent wasn't even trying! I couldn't help but get more concerned by the minute. Modo and I continually exchanged worried looks. So I decided to swap with him. I threw the ball and it hit him square in the head and he just fell. It all happened in slow motion. Modo was there before me, Charlie not far behind and she looked both guilty and insistent. "What is wrong with you?" she exclaimed as she lifted his head onto her lap. It had hit the edge of his mask, which in turn had cut into his furred flesh, and blood was beginning to show itself from under the rim. He looked dazed until Charlie fingers touched the piece of metal that hid what Karbunkle had done, he moved quickly even for him, pushing her hand away. That's when it all fell into place. All these years he'd just hid whatever pain had come his way and that's a lot to hide. His father and mother, his heart brake over Harley, his face and maybe even Charlie. I watched the way he just glanced at her afterwards, it was one of pain. His staring at the ground, letting the blood dribble down his face, I don't think he what to do. Even worse, I m not too sure what to do myself, he's always been there for us, in his strange way of just acting a fool, but it worked, and it meant something. I had to do something. So I began thinking of what, as I m afraid I don't have a manoeuvre for this situation. It meant I'd have to remember the past to look for the answer...
Throttle:
Something was definitely wrong. Vincent didn't act like this ever not since we were kids and he 'lost' both his parents, even then he shared it with us when we asked. I can also see that its bothering Modo, just as much as it is me.
I went over the day before several times in my mind - when Limburger had taken Carbine, Rimfire and Charlie hostage. But then Vincent seemed his usual angry, adrenaline filled and crazy self, all because Charlie was in danger. He hasn't fallen for a girl like that since Harley though he has flirted with. Even then he was bummed when he lost her, but then we knew why and could help. He didn't have a chance with losing his face, and we were their supporting him, and soon after he was back to his bragging self. Maybe it had brought it all back up again. Still it didn't add up, why get all melancholy now. The only time yesterday he wasn't his usual hyperactive self, was at what Modo had said : "Your right bro, I shouldn't let it get me down" He'd said "You never let anything effect you, its as if your heart was made of Plutarkian steel, you've no cares in the world, and you of most have had the hardest life. I wouldn't have been able to take it as you have." Yet all Vinnie did was look a little taken back, and only briefly. I put it down to the word Plutarkian. Well asking him didn't work but I had hoped the ball game would. No dice. He was bowling the ball half heartedly in a competition. A competition and Vincent wasn't even trying! I couldn't help but get more concerned by the minute. Modo and I continually exchanged worried looks. So I decided to swap with him. I threw the ball and it hit him square in the head and he just fell. It all happened in slow motion. Modo was there before me, Charlie not far behind and she looked both guilty and insistent. "What is wrong with you?" she exclaimed as she lifted his head onto her lap. It had hit the edge of his mask, which in turn had cut into his furred flesh, and blood was beginning to show itself from under the rim. He looked dazed until Charlie fingers touched the piece of metal that hid what Karbunkle had done, he moved quickly even for him, pushing her hand away. That's when it all fell into place. All these years he'd just hid whatever pain had come his way and that's a lot to hide. His father and mother, his heart brake over Harley, his face and maybe even Charlie. I watched the way he just glanced at her afterwards, it was one of pain. His staring at the ground, letting the blood dribble down his face, I don't think he what to do. Even worse, I m not too sure what to do myself, he's always been there for us, in his strange way of just acting a fool, but it worked, and it meant something. I had to do something. So I began thinking of what, as I m afraid I don't have a manoeuvre for this situation. It meant I'd have to remember the past to look for the answer...