"Akikawayayaoi 5/26/12 . chapter 6

Hi, hey, sup. I'm loving the story so far, but good fucking lord am I confused. Who is Richard? I thought his name was Dick? Also, on Dave's name- Dave Jake or David Lee? And is Dave his, or not...? I'd love it if this was cleared up, because I'd enjoy the story that much more. Good job, though."

I know we're not supposed to do this, but I haven't got a good place to respond to reviews for SL. Dick is a nickname for Richard. It's common for authors to switch from long name to short name while writing a story so you don't keep getting the 'he said, he did, he was' thing going throughout. Trust me, it can start feeling monotonous.

But thank you for pointing that out. I was tired as shit when I was typing up chapter three and didn't realize that I'd made that mistake.

Chapter 5: The Batterwitch is real. Fuck you.

As the boy walked away, Richard paced toward the stranger, lifting his chin to emphasize the differences in their heights. Strider was nearly a head taller than this man.

"Solomon Vantas. What brings your pasty, pink, tobacco stained fingers and teeth to my nearly pristine workshop this fine February morning?" he queried, hands sliding into his pockets, narrowing his eyes at the man.

"Checking in on you, Richard." The smaller man frowned, peering around the shop. "Why isn't David in school?"

"First the interpreter, now you. Religious differences, bullies, and idiots. Take your hat off, too, Saul-my-boy. Jane taught you better than to leave that shitty fedora on in-doors."

"Richard, respect your elders."

"Solomon, I ask the same of you. You're a true born. I was made before the creation of this universe. Respect your demigods. Speaking of; where's your charge? Did you abandon HIM to child services too? Or are you being a good parent, flying back first-class, snooty, warm-blanketed and well fed as soon as this conversation is finished, juuuuuuuuuuuust in time for him to finish classes for the day?" Dick sank as much venom in as he could, dripping and emersing his voice in all the loathing he'd built up for the son of his now long dead friend.

"He's at the hotel. I pulled him for a family reunion."

"So we're a family now? I didn't get that memo." Richard seethed, leaning down to leer at him. "Pardon me while I die of a heart attack. Take care of baby-strider when I'm gone-Oh, wait. You abandon striders. I miraculously pulled through. Praise be to trolls." he snarled, lips pulled back. "I wasn't good enough for you to give the time of day when I was a kid, what the blistering infected fuck changed that in seventeen years? Forget you tossed me at the authorities like a dad playing hot potato with a dirty diaper. You're offering me a load of shit here, Solomon. She was my mom too! AND my friend! One of my best friends! One of the few people I could turn to and I was so scared when she started getting weak! You didn't even give me a fucking chance to say goodbye. You just fucking TOOK THAT." Dick shouted, winding up, feeling tears in his eyes. Not cool. Striders didn't lose their cools like that.

"Are you finished?"

"NO. Fuck no." He needed to go on. he needed to get it out. "I could have helped. I could have figured something out to help her get around. I could have prevented her dying in that fucking explosion!"

"The batterwitch isn't real in this world, Dick."

"SHE EXISTS IN EVERY WORLD. You didn't sit with her and listen? She was always talking about the batterwitch, and how she was raised by a horrible woman. Open your ears, Solomon. The signs are all there." he snapped. "Jake didn't need my help-as much as I'd have rather protected and gone to help him. I could have helped Jane. He TOLD ME to help Jane! She wasn't perfect, she was a trickster, and a brat, but she was a good friend, and my first MOM and you took her from me! You had the funeral without me! YOU TOOK HER FROM ME!" tears were spilling on his cheeks. He was embarrassing himself, and he knew the little man could see. But he couldn't stop. "You left me with no one but Lalonde, which is fine. I've been on that boat. Pale mates forever. But I never got a letter from Crocker. Or a call. Any sign that she cared. Why is that? Wasn't that I was hopping homes. Lalonde managed to shove her soggy nose into every home I was in to ruffle my hair every year on every holiday she thought you could drink on and not be judged."

"Her hands hurt. She couldn't hear!"

"I call BULLSHIT."

"Richard-"
"Solomon. Your kid is welcome in my home, I'll let Kaat in, any time, but if you EVER step within two feet of my doorway yourself, you'll meet the business end of a katana and guess what, I'm pretty sure that's legal here."

Solomon cringed, backing up.

"If I thought-"

"You didn't, Saul. You were busy thinking about yourself. Fuck yourself. You'll drop Kaat off here tonight. You'll pick him up from here tomorrow."

"Richard, you're being unreasonable."

Strider closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"You're a good parent for him. I'm sure. You'll love and support him. You'll feed his obesessions. You'll tend to his needs, you'll accept him." He opened his eyes, fixing a glare on the man. "But when the game starts, you do as Roxy and I do. And you will NEVER step inside my shop uninvited AGAIN." he snarled, pointing to the door.

"If that's how you feel."

"Of course it's how I feel."

"But it's getting to a point where we need to coordinate." Vantas tried, and Strider glared at him.

"Going to get together with Beck, and Roxy's liquor cabinet? Ask the dog how it's training Harley, how the bottles think Rosie's doing?"

"You really think?"

"She's my moirail. I really think she's trying her best but someone cut her off from a good thing too soon."

"Richard, I'm sorry." Solomon sighed. "I fucked up."

"You did. Yeah."

"I'll make it up to you."

"Like I said. Drop the kid off here tonight. Pick him up tomorrow. Introduce Kaat and Dave before the game. Start them early. Make a foundation. They deserve to know who they're working with."

"I could do that." He said, watching Strider carefully as the taller man wound down and rubbed frustration and years of anger from his eyes.

"You'd better do that." Richard snarled, pointedly ignoring the fact that dave had stepped closer to listen in. "The only thing you've ever been useful for, Solomon, is for protecting the players of the Crocker line. Just the players. No one else. You're a pathetick sack of donkey cock sunk into bullshit wrapped into a gigantic rat's ass, materialized out of who the hell knows where. Go get your fucking charge."

The wind was out of Bro Strider's sails, and Solomon was backing out of his hair, looking confused as to why.

bro

who the fuck was that

and why the fuck are they bringing someone over? The younger asked, a series of uncertain signs making the question.

Tell ya later. The elder replied, sighing wearily.