I noticed when I was looking at community I started, Revival of Star Fox, that one of the moderators had added this, and I don't know who. XD Well, anyways please look at the community and post on forums and such. I'll be awaiting your comments on the story, and Lupe, if you honestly want me to apologize, your sadly mistaken. You read the first sentence or two, and then replied, you didn't even read the whole way through. This doesn't even include the fact that you pushed some crazy pairing from left field onto me, saying it was something you'd rather read. If you don't enjoy this story, then fine, if you do, that's okay too, just don't review without reading everything.

Also, I'm extremely sorry this is coming out late, I started this later than usual because I was forced to clean all weekend, so now it's Tuesday, and I'm trying to vent before my soccer game tomorrow. I want so badly to be as big an asset as I can for my team, so this is the next chapter of On the Rocks, and I'm also venting.

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Panther stumbled, confusion sweeping over him as he saw a distinct figure on the panther in the picture, a white stripe below the right eye. Unknowingly, Panther had raised his fingers to the stripe on his face, fearful.

Dante was beside him now, head dipped, regret in his eyes, and his voice as he spoke, "You must be wondering why I have a picture of you and me as kids…" whispered Dante.

Panther's voice lashed back, rising in volume with each syllable, venom slowly draining, tears slowly forming, "Of course I'm wondering! You have a picture of me and you as kids; you have a whole section of your wall DEDICATED TO ME. What did I do to you to get this? WHO ARE YOU!?"

"I'd be dead if it weren't for what you did when we were kids…" calmly stated Dante.

"What's that!? What did I do to make you so… so… obsessed!?" questioned Panther.

"You've forgotten… you've honestly forgotten you pushing me out of the way of a moving car? You went to the hospital and got 12 stitches and you can't even remember why? That white stripe of yours, that's a scar, you got it saving me," Dante losing his cool, having trouble holding his temper down now.

Yet, all of those words, none of them could revive memories long gone. Becoming a mercenary required him to forget his past. Yet… yet… Dante seemed familiar.

And, without a moment's notice, words stumbled out of Panther's mouth, "I can't remember, but I feel like I've known you… known you before the bar."

"Why don't you remember?" although the phrase was obviously meant to be violent, it came out laced with curiosity.

"You of all people should know the answer to that Dante…"

"Being a mercenary is no excuse for repressing memories Panther. When life has nothing left to live for, people live for their past, what are you going to live for then!" Dante shouted, caring much for the childhood savior.

Yet, the savior could simply avert his gaze, gazing down, sadly. Panther, although he didn't want to admit it, he felt bad.

"Well, should we keep training Panther, maybe you'll remember eventually…" he spoke, before muttering, "I hope."

"Yeah, what's next?" questioned Panther

"Let's try shooting training. I'll be right back with targets, pick out a weapon to practice with off the wall," breathed out Dante.

With all of the different forms of guns on the walls, only one of them drew his eye, and held his gaze. A small revolver-like blaster, a thin barrel meaning the shots could easily screw up, but it also meant that it was a concentrated hit.

Dante stood up the stairs, and called down to Panther, "Come up here, there's simulation crap you can use from training. Bring all of the weapons you think you might use."

Panther grabbed a serrated blade and a sniper rifle too, before heading up. He came up to find Dante's furry tail sticking out a doorway, in which he went to.

In that room, there was two virtual reality seats, Dante proceeded to sit in one, Panther made his way to the other.

In the area, there was a small compartment, Panther placed his weapons in them, and clicked ready. The door shut, encasing him in darkness.

Then, he appeared on a shooting range. He lifted his hand, a small revolver suddenly appearing in it.

Dante was behind him, a spectator. "Focus on the target, imagine the bullet traveling and connecting to it, then make it happen."

Panther nodded in affirmation, but as shaking slightly, still angry, still anxious, and still a bit confused after the event minutes ago.

He took breaths, shallow and quick. He was completely out of his comfort zone with this; he preferred the air… very much so.

He wrapped both of his hands around the handle of the gun, made the image, and fired. The bright red beam missed the target by a lot. Panther released some of the pent up breath and stress he had.

"Try a different technique that one doesn't work," stated Dante, matter-of-factly.

Panther took a deep breath, and steadied himself. He held his wrist this time, narrowing his eyes to slits as he focused. He fired a bullet, it narrowly missing the center, and making the target explode into wooden splinters.

"Good, try a different weapon, we'll perfect your techniques after this, but right now, we need techniques for the weapons you brought," echoed the calm, smooth voice of Dante.

A knife replaced the revolver in Panther's hand. Dante spoke up, "The knife is a supposed to be for close combat, but for this, we'll practice throwing."

Panther knew how to do this. He clamped his thumb and middle finger on the face of the blade, near the tip, and whipped it. It sliced the target in half like butter.

"Nice job, here's the final weapon." Dante kept speaking words of wisdom and encouragement, he seemed completely at ease.

The sniper rifle appeared in Panther's hands, and he'd never used anything relatively close to one for a long time.

He dropped to a single knee, bringing his eye to the scope. The crosshair became the only thing he could focus on.

The criss-crossing black lines, they moved slowly, but surely. He began focusing the crosshair, and then it was perfectly centered on the target.

A slow, deep breath was all he needed. His finger gently tugged back, the trigger clicked against the handle of the gun, and then a red beam soared through the air.

The beam connected dead center with the target, a loud crack. The target exploded into a million pieces, the darkness surrounding Panther once more.

Dante smiled to himself in his darkness. "Perfect," he breathed out.

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God damn writer's block. Well, anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter of On the Rocks.