Reviews :
Snake557 : She's adorbs! :D
CHICKENM4N : Aww thanks! And thank YOU for reading! Merry Christmas :)
Burgie : Yeah, Turbo's journey is a rough one... He sort of has to fall behind in order to get ahead. It's been fun to write about, really!
A/N : Hey guys! Merry Christmas! Sorry for the slow updates. If you want the truth, my desk chair is broken and makes it VERY hard to sit and write. I'll be getting a new chair on Thursday, but seriously, I've written this chapter over the span of about 4 days... When usually, I can poop out a chapter in less than an hour. This chair is just warped and broken, so sitting here sucks. After Thursday, I'll be back to my normal self. Until then, y'guys! Thanks for your patience!
Song Listened To :
Without Me by Halsey
*Chapter 8*
With the flick of a light switch, Throttle's ghostly white skin illuminated as his foyer's bulb slowly brightened from a dull gradient of warmth to a gentle beam of solid light. A few colorful moths fluttered about the hanging light of Throttle's one story abode's front door, in a shuffling silence of only the crunch of snow underneath their thick boots, TurboTime's only three living relics eased into Throttle's home once and for all. Once fogged breath finally ceased with the clack of his round front door, Throttle nervously eyed the back of Turbo's head. Alongside the short walk across palace grounds, from the Great Hall's exterior gates and entrance, straight to Throttle's spacious home, near the palace lot's front and main gates, Throttle had noticed that Turbo's depressed, matte grey gaze had very slowly begun to burn into the embers of angry red. In a string of gentle silence, Throttle's and Nox's eyes glossed to one another in a volley of splayed concern. Nox shrugged a little, took off his zip up, ruffled his dark grey hair and hung his coat on Throttle's tidy coat hanger.
With Turbo's demeanor now easing out of his shell, him being behind closed doors with the only two men on the lot that knew him the best, his true character began to want to burst forth, a beast of passion, a being of vulnerable feelings and a heart that he so desperately wanted to wear on his sleeve. Throttle cocked an eyebrow and watched Turbo's demeanor. Although thirty years had passed between them, he knew Turbo like the back of his hand, antics that had never subsided, no matter the throw around of years lost to the wind, tyranny wasn't enough to erase all of Turbo's quirks and sullen show of smoke and mirrors; Throttle knew the exact signs until Turbo's breaking point, and with such, Throttle held his breath and softly rested his hand upon Nox's shoulder. His looming hand reached out due to seeing Nox reel in a naive show of getting ready to unload gentle, lovely quips of reassurance to his disturbed big brother, bouts of words that would not do Turbo any good, from what Throttle knew to be true.
"Vanellope's frosted sugar cookies are... Phew," Throttle cocked an eyebrow, brushed his forehead in a proverbial swoon of full-stomached delight. Nox only pushed a nervous smile to his face, to somehow signal to Throttle that he was at least trying his hardest to ease into the eldest brother's segue, "And what of that peppermint white cocoa?"
"I nearly began to eat the cup," Nox cheekily agreed with a bob of a nod, and as Turbo began to vanish deeper into Throttle's gorgeous, round-roomed abode, down the few steps into Throttle's crisp, white carpeted living room, Nox thumped to a sit on Throttle's little mud room's stool, in order to properly take off his boots, "Y'think if we ask nicely, she'll at least loan us the recipe?"
"Maybe get Koko to squeak it outta her," Throttle teasingly pressed as he, too, took off his shoes, though in a more educated manner opposite Nox's grabby, clumsy approach. Throttle glossed his attention to Turbo's whereabouts, almost angry pacing about the broad of Throttle's swooping ceiling to floor windows, which also doubled as a massive sliding glass door onto his secretive garden of a patio; one of which that was shroud in untouched snow. Throttle could feel the anger begin to overflow from Turbo's demeanor, and with a switch, Throttle was well aware he had to somehow draw a parental approach to his younger brother, a weird tactic he had fallen into in a past life, "I'm calling Black on you."
Turbo raised his eyebrows in a pinprickle of surprise and felt the frustration in his soul now begin to heat to beyond a boil; he whirled around and pointed a finger to his eldest brother.
"You can't call 'Black' in a situation like this, Throttle, that's NOT fair," Turbo's masculine voice growled, the viens in his jugular bulged as he became riled, Nox sagged into himself and now felt the golden glow begin to leave his eyes, as well.
"...For User's sake, Throttle, I don't even remember the last time you used our last name against one of us, like that," Nox uttered in gentle offense, as if the stab was directed at Turbo, though Nox felt the recoil of it all, as well.
"Lash would so much as step into a room and use Black against me," Turbo now became outwardly angry, and it was in this instance did Throttle regret using the 'Black' treatment against Turbo. A verbal agreeing of a swear, as if to state that whichever one of the TurboTime's boys were to call out their own last name, Black, they were the one who was ultimately and immediately correct in any impending argument about to happen, as if to run safe to a designated 'base' in a riveting game of tag. Turbo inhaled a deep breath through his nose and began to angrily push closer to Throttle in a becoming-aggressive manner, "I'm tired of my last name being used as a tactic against me in an argument. Don't you dare start out this conversation with that, Throttle BLACK."
"Who came up with that, anyhow?" Nox nervously asked, he remained sitting on Throttle's mudroom stool, which was about ten feet away from the impending argument.
"LASH did," Turbo angrily spat, and in a clumsy rush of a now seething demeanor, he began to nearly rip off his zip up hoodie. In a slick swipe, he grappled his pack of cigarettes, his lighter, thrust his leather coat into Throttle's couch and began to storm to Throttle's patio. In a smooth slide of a few movements, Turbo eased his phone out of his pocket, thumbed to a few very exclusive code room options, he hacked the mainframe of Throttle's abode and, without lifting a finger, Throttle's patio glass door intelligently slid open, welcomed Turbo out into the snow, and successfully slammed shut as hard as it could possibly afford without shattering.
"I wish I would've known you were going to call Black on him, Tee," Nox grumbled in entire dismay as he glowered in his oldest brother's direction, "That was a stupid joke Lash made up, and then... We all just morphed it into some sort of a sick tradition we used against each other in fights. How are you not remembering how nasty our fights got the second one of us called Black?"
"I just... I knew it'd give me the upper hand," Throttle shook his head and felt that fleeting feeling of authority so quickly come and go; he knew Turbo was hurting, for many reasons, though somehow, he fell into old and nasty habits of keeping Turbo under his thumb, as his student; the greatest racer ever.
"Not any more, dude," Nox grumbled as he finally stood, though he rolled his eyes and began to stumble back into his thick winter boots, "C'monnn... He's not going to come back inside for a smoke. We gotta suffer outside with him to sort this out."
"Goodie," Throttle grumbled in rising irritation, and as both boys began to approach the sliding glass door, they noticed Turbo had slowly wandered a few feet off of Throttle's gorgeous, clay and cream colored patio tiles, which were caked in snow and only showed through via the press of Turbo's boot prints.
Turbo wrinkled his nose in muttering dismay, he sunk into Sugar Rush's cold, and as his eyes softly glossed the wild blue of the darkening evening sky, his thumb intelligently rattled the spur of his lighter, causing the hot embers of a flame to gently spark. As he lit his cigarette and took a solid, deep inhale, he finally exhaled an entire cloud of smoke and hot fog to the bitter cold air. He lulled his angry, glowing red eyes closed as he heard Throttle's sliding glass door firmly open, the crunch of his brother's feet stepping onto the snow, to join him, had him continuing to seethe. Throttle's back patio was dark, the only thing illuminating the crystalized, white snow under-toe was the incredible, haunting glow of Throttle's white stare, Nox's golden gaze and Turbo's burning red glower. Throttle and Nox stood close to one another, though they gave Turbo about a ten-foot wide berth.
"I'm sorry, Bo," Throttle's deep voice crackled. He shoved his now cold hands into his coat's pockets and glossed his eyes to the snow underneath, a sprawl of pristine, brand new snow and ice layered the entire palace grounds. Although Throttle's little abode was right near the front and main gates of the palace, he was snuggly tucked back into the bend of the ground's front wall. The stark difference between the glistening white wall against the midnight blue sky, riddled with snow clouds and frozen, twinkling stars. Throttle shook his head, heaved a fogged sigh to the dark atmosphere before them and long blinked in dismay, "It's... Easy to fall into old habits."
"Yeah, well, I'm here trying to prove to everyone that I've, indeed, turned over a new leaf, here," Turbo suddenly stabbed as he yanked the cigarette from his mouth and flailed the small smoke trail around in anger; he dared to take a few skulking steps closer to his two brothers, who grew rigid in rising fear, "I don't have the luxury of falling on old habits. How badly I'd love to call Black over the entirety of EVERYONE on this LOT!"
"Turbo," Nox eased nervously, his molten red glare merely glanced to his youngest brother.
"You hear the whisperings, I'll bet you've heard it for years and years now," Turbo stabbed to Throttle as he pushed into their vicinity, although his demeanor was threatening, Nox and Throttle knew Turbo wouldn't hurt a fly, "I'll bet it was torture being tied to someone so terrible, someone made out to be the biggest, meanest bad in guy in all of arcade... Protagonists in a simple racing game, my name just tainted forever. No one dares trust the dreaded good guy gone bad, the virus that nearly destroyed Litwaks. No one cares for Turbo Black."
"Turbo, you were just in a group of half a dozen that were all really enjoying your company," Throttle argued as he flailed his hand a little, Nox eagerly nodded; Turbo hovered over the two like a nightmare, disheveled and so bruised from the eons of distrust and hatred his poor soul has had to endure.
"Their smiles are a mile wide, but trust me when I say... I can smell fear from a million miles away," Turbo's deep voice dribbled to a tone of entire, scheming, deathly delight. His haunting, molten red gaze practically burned into the retinas of his two brothers, and as if he was simply death himself, ready to claim lives and lay waste on their hearts, he hovered in anticipated wait and just barely shook his head, "None of those people trust me... Vanellope, Ralph, none of the racers... No one."
"Tessa trusts you," Nox quipped in retort, he bravely stood up to his big brother; Turbo furrowed his brow in gentle confusion and peered hard into Nox's glinting golden eyes, "Tessa and Zed's trust is the only thing that matters, here. Screw what everyone else things... You have the King and the Queen in your corner."
"Not to mention your brothers, who have been with you since day one, and Sugar Rush's first Knight, Rancis," Throttle stabbed in competing anger, and with such, Turbo finally exhaled a hot sigh through his nose, dallied a few steps away from Throttle and Nox and slowly began to meander out into the small field behind Throttle's abode. He puffed on his cigarette in thought, and as Throttle gently lofted his gaze to Nox's in contemplation, both boys began to bravely step out to join Turbo. Throttle tried to quell his anger as he continued on, "Ace and Libby trust you, all the flyers really like you."
"Getting Lickity's seal of approval is what really should set your mind at ease, really," Nox bugged his eyes in playfulness, a defense mechanism he used well.
"I hold the entire game in the palm of my hand," Turbo's voice now croaked into something darker, sadder. He opened his empty hand, peered down to it and long blinked in a rise of sorrow that now shroud him. His molten red gaze only just began to subside to a hot orange of promised calm, "It's been a month of ruling in Tessa's and Zed's shadow... Don't they know that I'm not dumb enough to try anything? I've kept the game safe, I-I've never missed a deadline, I've done everything in my power to keep Orion City up and running smoothly... A place they all frequent."
"It'll take time, Bo," Throttle's warmth returned, he shrugged and peered to Turbo in a gentle show of wanting to eke love, "It only HAS been a month, like you said... You're going to have to just keep doing what you're doing, it takes time."
"It'd really help if you were on palace grounds, more often," Nox encouraged gently, to which Turbo flickered the ashes of his now dwindling cigarette to the snow below.
"My sanity wouldn't be able to afford a week here," Turbo grumbled darkly, he eased his now gentler eye contact to his youngest brother, as if to be apologetic, "If you only caught the amount of whispering I hear. I can't walk into a room without half the crew hugging the wall and inching out, as if I'm going to just go on a delete spree."
"Turbo, you've been stuck inside Sugar Rush for the majority of your life, I really don't think you understand how detrimental this all is... You used to be Arcade's nightmare, it wasn't something to be taken lightly," Throttle expressed as gently as he could, and much to his surprise, Turbo remained quiet and eagerly listened to his oldest brother, "These guys only know the terrible things about you, and suddenly you were put in charge... I'm sure that's not easy to swallow."
"The only way you're going to change minds is by being present, and showing everyone that you've changed," Nox shrugged, Turbo sighed and lulled his eyes closed as he shook his head in defeat.
"It's going to take new faces, people that have never heard of me, to really genuinely enjoy me," Turbo grumbled, "Everyone knows who I am, everyone knows my past. I can't crawl my way outta this one."
"So, what, you're just going to stay cooped up in that lonely tower of yours?" Nox debated in a rile of annoyed protectiveness, he shook his head and gestured his arm about, "You can't... You can't just gain back two brothers and then just vow to vanish, and not at least ATTEMPT to make this better. None of the racers question Throttle or I."
"Because neither of you ruled Sugar Rush with an iron fist!" Turbo suddenly bellowed in whole entire brimming dismay, though Throttle finally gathered the strength to clap back.
"I taught you EVERYTHING you know!" Throttle's voice matched Turbo's, and with such, Turbo was now figuratively shrinking; he knew Throttle was not one to get up in arms about just anything, so the second he ever did, the world froze, "I was your racing coach, Turbo. I took you under my wing, I shaped you into the greatest racer ever, you were the product of my care!"
"You didn't do harm," Turbo argued, Throttle wrinkled his nose in rising anger and could see the glow of his white eyes now begin to show a kiss of red against Turbo's grey skin.
"I cultivated it," Throttle growled, which now shut Turbo up, "Everyone on the grounds loves me, because I'm present every single day. You've followed in my footsteps before, my shadow was tightly hugged by yours, my brother. It's time we reshape just what the Black family means to this Arcade."
"You're going to have to leave me out of it, because I'm a lost cause," Turbo stabbed, to which Throttle begrudgingly looked off.
"You're one of the faces of Sugar Rush, Turbo," Nox complained.
"I'm running in the background," Turbo retort, "I was the face of TurboTime."
"You're in charge of Orion City, Turbo, sorry it's not nearly as wonderful as Vidrix," Throttle now darkly argued in sarcasm; Turbo largely cocked an eyebrow and shot Throttle a glower.
"You're RIGHT! It's not!" Turbo shouted, Nox put his hands up in defense, as if to physically tell Turbo to calm down, "Nothing will ever be as grand or as great as Vidrix... It's GONE! Because of my stupid mistakes! There's nothing we can say or do to bring TurboTime back, so while I live out the rest of my miserable life, I'd like to be left alone!"
"We don't want that for you, Turbo," Nox begged nervously, Turbo shook his head and looked off.
"You guys are welcome to visit me, but once Tessa and Zed get back, I'm... I'm not coming back, I can't," Turbo stabbed, "I'm not going to keep subjecting myself to this pain. I'm much happier where I can be alone and away from mean whispering and looks of terror lofted my way."
"I already stated what you can do to quell all that," Throttle grumbled as he crossed his arms and began to look entirely annoyed.
"Look where your teachings and advice has gotten us, Tee," Turbo meanly stabbed, and with said stab, Turbo now reeled and understood that he had maybe taken this argument too far due to the frozen looks of hurt on Nox's and especially Throttle's face.
"Okay, now I'm REALLY calling Black, on you," Nox suddenly barked, to which Turbo flinched in surprise; someone as cute and funny and happy as Nox getting so suddenly riled was a rarity, "You have no right to say that... It's ALL in the past. Throttle's right... The only thing we can do, to make a good name for the Black family, is to be PRESENT."
"Hiding away just makes you more creepy and mysterious," Throttle stated through the grit of his teeth as he tried to reign in his anger.
"Cool, maybe one day I can use said creepy, mysterious qualities to my advantage," Turbo shrugged as he gestured outwards in sarcastic cheek.
"That's your argument?" Throttle huffed, Turbo smiled a smug, mean smile in Throttle's direction and firmly pat Nox's shoulder.
"Our wee one, here, called Black on me. That's all I got," Turbo spat, and in a final turn, he began to ease closer to the sliding glass door, to head back inside, "You wanna play that game, then fine. We can just keep tainting our name and forever use it as a tool of negativity on everyone and everything."
"Turbo," Both Throttle and Nox grunted in calling dismay, they urgently began to follow Turbo back inside. In the slump of taking off snowy boots and unravelling from thick, winter coats, Throttle and Nox stumbled up the few steps into Throttle's kitchen, to finally join Turbo.
"So what's going to become of you if Tessa and Zed need you here, on palace grounds, for something?" Nox argued, "You're just going to decline the invitation simply because a few racers on the lot throw you the side-eye?"
"You really think I'm dumb enough to disregard orders from the people above me?" Turbo joked, he took off his hoodie to reveal a thin black tank top. He shook his head and ruffled his hair as he finally got comfortable, "Boys, I'm sure the thirty years doesn't look good for my wits, but I promise you, I know what's good for me."
"We can still come bother you, whenever we want, though, right?" Nox wondered nervously, to which Turbo sagged his face into his hands and shook his head in dismay.
"Of course you guys can come visit me," Turbo grumbled, "I never said you couldn't. I just don't like being here... Everyone looks entirely on edge."
"You can't blame them," Throttle stabbed, to which Turbo stiffened his spine and peered his angry gaze into Throttle's, "You're TURBO. I-I mean, seriously... You're wondering why only a month doesn't hold a flaming torch to thirty years, I mean, you can't be serious."
"So, what, Tessa and Zed can just hand me limitless trust in the span of two weeks, but ohh, nooo, everyone else needs an extended, unnamed period of time," Turbo shrugged, Throttle grappled his long black hair in entire frustration.
"You WON Sugar Rush with Tessa and Zed at your side! You spent nearly two weeks with them, fighting for the very game you rule!" Throttle raged, "You did LIFE with them, of course they trust you!"
"That's the plight... You have to be present in order for the rest of the racers to see a new you," Nox begged gently.
"And what of the new babies on the lot?" Throttle pressed with a shrug, "You want to be around enough so THEY have a good impression of us... Maybe if THEY like us, unconditionally, it'll make the process easier."
"I'm not here to warp the minds of adolescents," Turbo grumbled as he leaned his lower back against one of Throttle's dark marble counters, he crossed his muscular, masculine arms and exhaled a hard sigh, "Berri, Wren and Theo are going to grow up with Throttle and Nox on the lot, and a strange and mysterious other TurboTime boy across the city. It won't matter, because one day, they'll know the truth... So what's the point."
Both Throttle and Nox grew quiet and began to wonder if this fight was now a lost cause. They softly peered to each other in gentle dismay, as if they desperately wanted to help their brother Turbo get comfortable, though it seemed as if the only option was to leave him be and let him grieve this weird period of his life by himself. They knew isolation wasn't wise, though somehow, Turbo's figure radiated an aura of an unmovable wall, a mind made up, as if he was simply punishing himself for his own past mistakes.
