Lloyd's life had never been easy. From the minute he was born on one of his father's colonies to the present day, it was terrible throughout. It wasn't even his fault.
His father's a ruthless warlord who probably doesn't even know he exists. He's never spoken a mere word to him, let alone had a proper greeting. However, trying to speak with his father might be a bad idea. A definite bad idea.
The thing is, the people of Ninjago City understandably hate Lord Garmadon, the ruthless warlord who tries to conquer Ninjago every second it still stands. But Garmadon has it easy. After every attack he gets to run away to his volcano where nobody dares to bother let alone confront him. He's in a safe space multiple miles away from the hateful comments and spiteful pettiness. Lloyd isn't.
For some odd reason, the people and citizens of Ninjago and places alike have turned their hatred for Garmadon onto his son, Lloyd, at a need for an outlet. It could be that the people are stupid, it could be that there's something wrong with him, yet Lloyd's more inclined to believe the latter.
He's the minority. The only minority, really. That prevents him from rebelling because he has nobody to band together with, no one to stand by his side and fight for what's right. Even if he could fight back, it would only drill him further into the ground. It would confirm people's suspicions of him being 'a careless maniac like his father.'
That's not who he is, and if anyone had the common sense to care, they would see that. But they don't, so Lloyd's left suffering.
People think he's like his father, that he has his father's side in genes. And while he does, it doesn't make him evil. It doesn't make him violent. He's his own person, not his father's pitiful shadow. However, people seem to think he relates to his father beyond genetics. They think he possesses the same issues, the same abilities, the same qualities. Yet if they looked a little closer, they'd see the absolute hopelessness he bears.
He has his own issues, even if he suppresses them to the point where even he doesn't know why he's crying in the shower this time. He can brush it off as the harsh reality he lives in all he wants, but something deep inside, an ugly horrid thing inside him, keeps on insisting there's something wrong with him. That he deserves the treatment he gets. He's actually starting to believe it, too.
His mom can tell him he's perfect and praise him all she wants, but she doesn't see what happens. Sure, she sees the news, sure, she sees the dirty looks and 'accidental' harm attempts when they're (rarely) out in public together, but she doesn't see what happens in school. Behind the school doors, in the classrooms, in the lunch rooms, anywhere. The bullying, the ignorance, the plain violence that takes place that nobody (not even the strictest of teachers or Lloyd himself) cares to prevent.
He's found that if he pretends he doesn't care, if he keeps the same sad expression on his face all the time, people judge him less. The less personality he has, the less likely it is for people to judge him on his choices. Yet there's a flaw with the 'plan': that flaw being Lloyd's mother.
He doesn't mean it as she's an issue, it's actually quite the opposite, actually. He means that it's harder to get through it all when there's a woman by your side cheering you on for things that hundreds hate about you. For example, she says he shouldn't be ashamed of who his father is, everyone else contradicts it.
She's really nice, and Lloyd can confidently say she's the best mother in the world, hands down. Even when all he wants to do is bundle up in, like, twelve layers and coincidently suffocate or overheat, (whichever comes first) she's there, suggesting a movie or something nice to eat. Koko doesn't care about the propaganda or rumours spread, she might not even know, but if she does, she's doing a great job at pretending she doesn't (most probably the latter).
The only other person who doesn't want him dead is his Uncle Wu. It doesn't matter if he's hardly around, the small phone calls, tiny visits and copious amounts of tea packages are plenty enough. He's a mysterious and cryptic man, one who's seen way too much in his days, especially with Garmadon. He's extremely and questionably old yet still able to fight like he's stuck in his mid twenties.
He's a peculiar guy, to say the least. A peculiar guy who likes to set up what seems like a karate class and then disappear for a 'business trip' (since when was Uncle Wu a businessman?) for weeks as if his previously developed dojo never existed.
Which is frustrating, to say the least, seen as though he'd been helping his uncle with installing all the equipment and carpets and stuff, as well and contributing some of his minuscule amounts of pocket money (his mom is trying to give him a 'normal' life, he just wishes she'd stop because they can't afford it). This means it's understandable when he's angry.
There's a sound that resonates through the tiny apartment, a sound contrasting to the silent nature of it Lloyd had been drowning in. It's a key into a lock, just a few clicks.
"Lloyd! Im home!" She calls, even though he's only on the couch not too far from the door. He sits up slowly, eyes growing accustom to the lights his mom turned on. Aw, he was just starting to drop off, too.
"I'm here mom, 'm here." His voice is unfamiliarly low and a bit dry, which earns him a concerned frown from his mom when he remembers the stupid spring fever he'd somehow obtained. Stupid spring weather getting the one-up on him. Stupid immune system not doing its job.
"Oh, sorry, I thought you were in your room." She replies dismissively as she hurriedly hauls the poor plastic bags full of groceries into the kitchen and up onto the counter with a huff. This month's this month's groceries.
"Mom, how did you carry all this home?" He wonders aloud, bewildered as she tries to figure out just about how much all of it is. It's definitely not cheap-
"Ah, you know, warrior days. Still got it in me, don't you think?" She proceeds to take off her blazer, only to flex her arm playfully, eyes twinkling in the warm kitchen lights.
He hums back, not really believing it and knowing his mom just carried these bags through the terrible rainy weather, staring to put some cans into the respective cupboards when she stops him. He sneezes, and that stupid sneeze came at the most inconvenient time considering Koko's looking deadly.
"Ah! Not until you're better!" She snaps, prying the cans out of his hands before putting them into the cupboards herself. It really is overkill, especially because he feels fine on the most part.
"Mom, come on, I-"
"Nope. Go on, back to the couch." She says, a no-nonsense expression set about her. He sighs, slinking away to the couch before sitting (throwing) himself down. He wouldn't even call it being sick, anyway. It's just a sore throat, yet that stupid thermometer keeps on reading a fever and his mom keeps on believing it, meaning he's outnumbered. His mom would outnumber him anyway, even without the thermometer.
With a facial expression somewhere between frustration and near pouting, he turns on the TV. The sound crackles to life as it opens to the news, and he's about to switch channels to the next Fritz Donnegan episode, but the news is plastering his face up close and personal.
It isn't even a good photo. It was taken by some random jerky girl while he trudged back to his apartment in the pouring rain before Christmas. She'd posted it on social media, a series of classic (trust him, he's heard it all at this point) insults thrown into the description. It still hurt, seeing things like that, yet he's learned to not lock himself in his room and contemplate the use of sharp objects every single time. Not after uncle Wu found out. Things get old, anyway.
"Lloyd Garmadon had stirred up another controversy regarding his family, as usual. I mean, seriously, can this kid ever chill out?" The male reporter says, Lloyd's never cared enough to learn his name.
He holds his phone to the screen, and you can only vaguely make out the amount of comments on a post that isn't even his. It's not him making all this needless drama online. His account has been dead ever since it was made. A little tragic, really.
"Ever since a post has been made regarding the unofficial assistance of his father, the comments have not stopped rolling in! This might be world record, people! Get online and share your opinions!" The female to his left adds, waving her own phone to the screen. Yeah… no. He won't be sharing anything.
"One user has commented," since when does the news cover social media drama? Especially things regarding himself, which happen like, every other week. It isn't uncommon, or anything. There's always something or other about him online. "No wonder Garmadon knows what we're doing, he gets intel from his son!"
They seemed oddly calm about this, considering the fact that he was being accused of stalking and joint efforts in conquering a city. "While another has said, 'we're talking about the same Lloyd Garmadon, right? The one who's built like a lettuce leaf and would fall over if you blink in his direction?' Yeesh! This is heated!"
That might be a new one, actually. Being called a lettuce leaf isn't something most people can amount to. It isn't a good thing. Plus, he can take people. They should see him with his uncle's punching bag-
"That's right, but that's not the only disturbance he's causing." Can't they just let him be? Why must people be so invested in incriminating him? "Kids from his high school year are in protest and desperation to avoid his classes. It's driving the teachers nuts!"
"I'll say, I feel bad for the teachers having to deal with it all."
"We sure do, and now we can understand it all with the insight of Mrs. Mckenzie, the school counsellor." A clip of the school counsellor cuts onto the screen, which she really could've chosen a better angle than having her phone poorly propped up against her desk.
She talks about how much fuss people make about him, and the average number of kids who call in with a complaint about him. It stings hearing the statistical side of things, but at least she's being honest. Unlike other people…
Most people, actually. The amount of detentions he's wracked up purely because of accusations are mounting to insane numbers. If only people could just lay off for once.
Especially with his mom. He might deserve it but she certainly doesn't. People shouldn't be putting her in the group of outcasts along with he and his father. No, she fought for Ninjago against Garmadon before he was born. Then it got messy, but her morals were always strong. How dare they accuse her-
"-ey! Lloyd, honey, are you okay?" His mom is in front of him, TV remote clutched in and where she'd turned off the TV. Koko doesn't like him watching this stuff about himself.
He looks up at her, lip quivering in place. How does she do it? How can she be put through worse and still be so strong while he's so pathetically hopeless? How does she do it? First Master-
She wraps him up in a hug, sitting down on the tatty couch and running a hand through his hair, an awkward silence laid upon them. The only sounds are his pathetic sobs and sniffles as his shoulders shake, desperately trying to pull himself back together before all his stupid little issues spill out everywhere and ruin everything. He doesn't need his mom to worry, she's already busy enough-
"Lloyd, calm down. Just breathe, nothing else. No worrying for now." There's a sad tone in her voice, mostly because she knows just about how sad her son's life is, highlighted by his best (and only) friend being his mom who's constantly working.
He calms down after a bit, pulling away from his very concerned mother looking down at him sadly. "I'm sorry. I'm just making stuff worse, making it more complicated-"
"Stop saying that!" Her voice raises to something of a yell, something foreign. She sounds genuinely furious and despaired that he's blaming himself, even if it's true. He shuts up. "Honey, you have to stop listening to those people. They aren't right."
"I know." He sniffles lamely, wiping his face on the back of his sleeve. It'll wash. He knows what they say isn't true, it's just tempting to believe something that makes life so much easier.
"Then stop." Her voice softens as she takes his hand, bringing it up in her two slimmer, warmer ones. "You're fine, Lloyd. Those people don't know you; they know your name."
And, there it is. His fear. Being hated for what he is and not who. Can't people just give him some credit? He'd rather be called the wimp rather than Garmadon's evil son. It's belittling.
"I don't like my name." He admits, because really, he still has to have his father's surname? She's thinking of changing back to her old surname, but he doesn't have a choice. He's thirteen.
"Lloyd, you shouldn't be ashamed of who your father is-" he can practically smell the lecture coming on, so he brightens up, straightens up and leans back into the soft cushioning of the couch. The speed at which he can seemingly change his mood with an immediate new mask is slightly concerning.
"No, no, no. It's the two Ls." She laughs a bit, quirking an eyebrow with a side-eye. Her expression still seems sad, though, and he can't help but feel guilty.
"Is it? Or is it 'Montgomery'?" She's riling him up now, and she knows it. The middle name he bears is bordering on the same amount of terrible naming as his father's identification. His jaw goes slack, then tight, and the words are confined where they wait in his throat. He shuts up again.
"Don't pout like that, Montgomery is a perfectly respectable name."
Respect? As if. That's the biggest far cry from Lloyd's name he's ever heard. Him and respect? Nah. Never going to work as if the people of Ninjago have their say. Even with the clear declaration of his 'pout' (which doesn't exist, his manhood remains strong) his so called 'respect' and 'dignity' die down. He almost scoffs, then remembers he needs to be nice.
"I guess." His gaze falls to his knees, as skinny and shameful as they are. It makes his wrists itch, the scars littered there seeming painfully obvious. His mom can't see. She can't know, she can't see. She doesn't see. He's fine for now.
"I'm gonna go for a bit. Just to my room, probably gonna clean it." He mutters, not really committing to anything. It's a lie, he knows what he's doing, not caring about what uncle Wu said about being healthy with coping or something like that. However it's not a complete lie. He'll clean the two shirts and deodorant can he left on the floor this morning.
He only really sees her expression briefly as he stands up, her face falling into something of concern, worry and pity. He doesn't want pity. He tells it to himself that he doesn't need it, yet he knows he deserves it.
A real shame.
I'm sorry. Just sorry on the whole for this chapter. :(
BTW THE FIRST CYCLE OF THIS STORY IS NOW DONE! :D
The order between ninja might change or alter, idrk. Chapter names might change to people's names, again, I'm not sure.
PS: to the LOVELY guest who commented, you're comment made me so happy like it wasn't even funny. Tysm!