Post by Maybe Might Not Be Moneybags on Dec 5, 2008 17:12:49 GMT -5
Let me state, for the record, that "Hugh in Catholic school" is NOT over or on haitus.
See, I've decided to get the best of both worlds and maintain two stories at the same time. Hugh in Catholic School, which will be very odd and lighthearted, and this one, Front, which is both proper Brawl Fanfiction and much more serious. My plan is to have two updates a week, each story getting one of the two updates. In keeping these two stories up, I hope to not get bored with just writing the same thing. Enjoy.
It should be taken into account that this story is not really cannon. Some things will not really coincide with the website, time-wise.
Super Paint Brawl: Front.
Chapter 1
fillerBlue woke up early on the first day. The bright red numbers on his digital clock proclaimed the time to be far before a reasonable human’s waking hours, but Blue ignored the clock, flipping it off with a perfunctory flick of the on/off switch. He rose from his bed, wearing only boxers, and strolled over to his closet, where he selected a black button-down shirt, a dark green sweatshirt to go over it, and a pair of jeans from the many assorted clothes on the rack. The clothes were worn and familiar, he had worn them many times before, and today, as he lay them on the bed, he realized today would be the day the clothes mattered most.
filler In the bathroom, he scrubbed his sleep-encrusted face with a wet towel, and, looking at himself in the mirror, decided he looked worse than before. The sleep, while disgusting, disguised the shadows and the stubble that shouldn’t be there yet. He studied the comb on the edge of the sink for a second before turning away chuckling. His hair, like all seventeen years of his life, was out of his hands, curly, untidy, and dark brown, it was altogether unassuming save for the curls, which he attributed to bedhead. An early morning run would flatten it down a little.
filler He walked by his bed again, stopping to put his jeans on, then dressed the rest of himself as he walked. He swiped his backpack with his right hand as he did up the buttons of his shirt, which became fully done up as he waited around for his breakfast, a single bagel with cream cheese on it, heated in the microwave. He had applied the cream cheese the night before, and it cooked with the bagel, creating an interesting taste Blue liked very much. Blue stuffed the heated bagel in the backpack and stuffed the almost ripped sweatshirt over his head, then, as a final touch, grabbed a pair of glasses from the counter, along with attachable sunglass lenses to combat the fast-approaching sunrise.
filler The musty stairs outside of his apartment led him downstairs to Ray’s diner. The diner was a local eatery, and Ray paid the rent every month through the loyalty of the few costumers he had. All of Blue’s one bagel Breakfasts were bought through Ray, who heated them with his special method that he claimed, made it better than other bagels. Blue had never eaten the bagels fresh, so he couldn’t back Ray up on that.
filler Ray himself was not present, as he enjoyed the midday. To keep the diner open in the dawn and twilight hours, he had hired two employees to cover those shifts. Blue saw that employee Aria, a mellow, purple-haired teenager was currently using the counter as a resting place for her huge, battered anthology of gothic poetry. She barely glanced up as Blue lobbed a loud, sarcastic air kiss her way and she raised one of the fingers on her right hand in a rude gesture.
“Your sister is hotter than you will ever be, tramp.” Blue said.
“Bite me.” She snarled.
filler Their morning insults over, Blue next greeted the only customer in Ray’s at this late hour. Will was in his late forties, at this stage of his life just a tangled mess of black hair, beard and coat. He was present at Ray’s almost twenty-four hours a day, drinking coffee and smoking (he had long since been banned from the town’s only bar.) He gave the coffee in his hand another sip in greeting as Blue sat down across from him.
“Well, Willie, another day in paradise.” Blue commented, staring out the window at the dark street.
“Let me drink in peace, damn it.” Will mumbled. In his glory days, he boasted a thick, attractive Australian accent, but the land of opportunity had long since beaten it out of him, along with his youth and happiness.
filler Blue sat down and raised his hand, indicating that the now-watching Aria should fetch him some coffee, which she did. Will moved one hand to the dirty locket he wore around his neck, removed it, and stared at the picture inside.
“She was beautiful, wasn’t she.” Will muttered, referring to his long-dead wife, Angel, who he had married when he was young and had three children with before she was killed during the first terrorist massacre on American soil.
“Aye.” Blue said, his eyes misting over and a trace of his Irish heritage creeping back through his voice, “She was.”
filler Blue remembered the day of their marriage. He had been there one of the best men. Will had had many friends in the old days, and though they had often fought, Blue had been selected as a best man. Will believed in the superstition of bad luck befalling the couple who see each other before the wedding on the wedding day, so he had sent Blue to check up on her at regular intervals. Blue had been 13 then, a great supporter of their marriage, and therefore the only best man Will trusted to not try to seduce his bride.
filler Blue had made his way tentatively to the back of the church where the wedding was being held, when he reached the bride’s dressing room, and knocked once on the door. When a melodious voice bid him to enter, he did so.
filler Angel was stunning. Her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail, and her wedding dress was classily white and flowing, creating a wake of cloth behind her. Angel emitted an aura of goodness that made Blue’s anxieties about the wedding melt away as he closed the door behind him.
“Wow…” He simply said.
filler Angel smiled, “I knew it looked great.” She giggled, and Blue thought it not childish, as he normally labeled giggling, but wonderfully suited to the joyous event that lay before her.
filler Blue was eventually able to gather enough of his normal irreverent nature to say. “I’m about this close to reconsidering my MARRIAGE BAD policy right now.” Angel smiled again, impossibly more beatific than the last time.
“Don’t worry, you’ll convince Mae to wear a dress somehow.”
“Ew, Mae? I’d rather marry an elephant.” Blue scoffed, thinking of his fembot blonde acquaintance that had grudgingly agreed to be an usher for the wedding, but would not acquiesce to a dress, and instead chose to wear a tuxedo. I wouldn’t actually marry an elephant, Blue’s inner voice said, when she’s not completely psycho Mae’s actually kinda-
“So, ready for your big day?” Blue asked quickly to silence his inner voice with his outer one. Angel nodded, and Blue left the room to get the ceremony started.
fillerBack in the present, Blue nodded and sipped the coffee Aria had brought. “Those were better days.”
“I want them back.” Will said, a tear forming behind his broken glasses.
filler Blue’s watch beeped, and Blue stood up suddenly. “I have to go.” He said.
“Finally, I can forget all this crap.”
filler Blue was about to walk out the door of the diner, but Will’s sentence stopped him. He held the door open, and the cold air from outside mixed with the warm air of the diner.
“Don’t forget. Never forget the good times. They’re coming back, Will. The good times will come back. I swear it.”
filler Blue left the dinner, slamming the door shut with finality. Aria looked up from the poetry, Will from his coffee, at the door, through which they could see Blue’s retreating figure.
“Do you think he meant it, Aria?” Will asked quietly, “Can things ever go back to the way they used to be?”
Aria didn’t answer.
filler On the outside sidewalk, Blue unslung his beaten backpack and rummaged around in it. In a hidden pocket, he found what he was looking for. An old cell phone. It was untraceable, and piggybacked on the minutes of a random order of other cellphones. Blue flipped it open, selected the only number in the address book, and pressed the “talk” button.
“Yes?” The voice said. It was barely a question, the voice monotonic.
“I’ll do it.” Blue said.
“Wonderful, I’ll send the usual car over.”
filler Blue was hung up on, and in sixty seconds a cab pulled up in front of him. This unusual taxi was had a black outer coat of paint, and the pay meter’s numbers glowed green as Blue got in and greeted the driver fammilarly.
“The usual destination, Sir?” The driver asked, turned his young black face and startling green eyes to look at the teen in the back.
filler As he talked, the Taxi TV unit activated, displaying of charismatic male anchor and a peppy female one talking about today’s historic event that was fast approaching.
“Today, Maria Dines, the first female president of the United States of America will be inaugurated at noon today.” The female anchor announced with glee. Blue stared at the screen emotionlessly for a long moment until a picture of Maria Dines popped up. Blue paid it no mind except to form his hand into a pantomime gun, point it nonchalantly at the picture, and pull the trigger as he announced his destination.
“Not today, Virus. Today we’re going to Washington D.C.”
See, I've decided to get the best of both worlds and maintain two stories at the same time. Hugh in Catholic School, which will be very odd and lighthearted, and this one, Front, which is both proper Brawl Fanfiction and much more serious. My plan is to have two updates a week, each story getting one of the two updates. In keeping these two stories up, I hope to not get bored with just writing the same thing. Enjoy.
It should be taken into account that this story is not really cannon. Some things will not really coincide with the website, time-wise.
Super Paint Brawl: Front.
Chapter 1
fillerBlue woke up early on the first day. The bright red numbers on his digital clock proclaimed the time to be far before a reasonable human’s waking hours, but Blue ignored the clock, flipping it off with a perfunctory flick of the on/off switch. He rose from his bed, wearing only boxers, and strolled over to his closet, where he selected a black button-down shirt, a dark green sweatshirt to go over it, and a pair of jeans from the many assorted clothes on the rack. The clothes were worn and familiar, he had worn them many times before, and today, as he lay them on the bed, he realized today would be the day the clothes mattered most.
filler In the bathroom, he scrubbed his sleep-encrusted face with a wet towel, and, looking at himself in the mirror, decided he looked worse than before. The sleep, while disgusting, disguised the shadows and the stubble that shouldn’t be there yet. He studied the comb on the edge of the sink for a second before turning away chuckling. His hair, like all seventeen years of his life, was out of his hands, curly, untidy, and dark brown, it was altogether unassuming save for the curls, which he attributed to bedhead. An early morning run would flatten it down a little.
filler He walked by his bed again, stopping to put his jeans on, then dressed the rest of himself as he walked. He swiped his backpack with his right hand as he did up the buttons of his shirt, which became fully done up as he waited around for his breakfast, a single bagel with cream cheese on it, heated in the microwave. He had applied the cream cheese the night before, and it cooked with the bagel, creating an interesting taste Blue liked very much. Blue stuffed the heated bagel in the backpack and stuffed the almost ripped sweatshirt over his head, then, as a final touch, grabbed a pair of glasses from the counter, along with attachable sunglass lenses to combat the fast-approaching sunrise.
filler The musty stairs outside of his apartment led him downstairs to Ray’s diner. The diner was a local eatery, and Ray paid the rent every month through the loyalty of the few costumers he had. All of Blue’s one bagel Breakfasts were bought through Ray, who heated them with his special method that he claimed, made it better than other bagels. Blue had never eaten the bagels fresh, so he couldn’t back Ray up on that.
filler Ray himself was not present, as he enjoyed the midday. To keep the diner open in the dawn and twilight hours, he had hired two employees to cover those shifts. Blue saw that employee Aria, a mellow, purple-haired teenager was currently using the counter as a resting place for her huge, battered anthology of gothic poetry. She barely glanced up as Blue lobbed a loud, sarcastic air kiss her way and she raised one of the fingers on her right hand in a rude gesture.
“Your sister is hotter than you will ever be, tramp.” Blue said.
“Bite me.” She snarled.
filler Their morning insults over, Blue next greeted the only customer in Ray’s at this late hour. Will was in his late forties, at this stage of his life just a tangled mess of black hair, beard and coat. He was present at Ray’s almost twenty-four hours a day, drinking coffee and smoking (he had long since been banned from the town’s only bar.) He gave the coffee in his hand another sip in greeting as Blue sat down across from him.
“Well, Willie, another day in paradise.” Blue commented, staring out the window at the dark street.
“Let me drink in peace, damn it.” Will mumbled. In his glory days, he boasted a thick, attractive Australian accent, but the land of opportunity had long since beaten it out of him, along with his youth and happiness.
filler Blue sat down and raised his hand, indicating that the now-watching Aria should fetch him some coffee, which she did. Will moved one hand to the dirty locket he wore around his neck, removed it, and stared at the picture inside.
“She was beautiful, wasn’t she.” Will muttered, referring to his long-dead wife, Angel, who he had married when he was young and had three children with before she was killed during the first terrorist massacre on American soil.
“Aye.” Blue said, his eyes misting over and a trace of his Irish heritage creeping back through his voice, “She was.”
***
filler Blue remembered the day of their marriage. He had been there one of the best men. Will had had many friends in the old days, and though they had often fought, Blue had been selected as a best man. Will believed in the superstition of bad luck befalling the couple who see each other before the wedding on the wedding day, so he had sent Blue to check up on her at regular intervals. Blue had been 13 then, a great supporter of their marriage, and therefore the only best man Will trusted to not try to seduce his bride.
filler Blue had made his way tentatively to the back of the church where the wedding was being held, when he reached the bride’s dressing room, and knocked once on the door. When a melodious voice bid him to enter, he did so.
filler Angel was stunning. Her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail, and her wedding dress was classily white and flowing, creating a wake of cloth behind her. Angel emitted an aura of goodness that made Blue’s anxieties about the wedding melt away as he closed the door behind him.
“Wow…” He simply said.
filler Angel smiled, “I knew it looked great.” She giggled, and Blue thought it not childish, as he normally labeled giggling, but wonderfully suited to the joyous event that lay before her.
filler Blue was eventually able to gather enough of his normal irreverent nature to say. “I’m about this close to reconsidering my MARRIAGE BAD policy right now.” Angel smiled again, impossibly more beatific than the last time.
“Don’t worry, you’ll convince Mae to wear a dress somehow.”
“Ew, Mae? I’d rather marry an elephant.” Blue scoffed, thinking of his fembot blonde acquaintance that had grudgingly agreed to be an usher for the wedding, but would not acquiesce to a dress, and instead chose to wear a tuxedo. I wouldn’t actually marry an elephant, Blue’s inner voice said, when she’s not completely psycho Mae’s actually kinda-
“So, ready for your big day?” Blue asked quickly to silence his inner voice with his outer one. Angel nodded, and Blue left the room to get the ceremony started.
***
fillerBack in the present, Blue nodded and sipped the coffee Aria had brought. “Those were better days.”
“I want them back.” Will said, a tear forming behind his broken glasses.
filler Blue’s watch beeped, and Blue stood up suddenly. “I have to go.” He said.
“Finally, I can forget all this crap.”
filler Blue was about to walk out the door of the diner, but Will’s sentence stopped him. He held the door open, and the cold air from outside mixed with the warm air of the diner.
“Don’t forget. Never forget the good times. They’re coming back, Will. The good times will come back. I swear it.”
filler Blue left the dinner, slamming the door shut with finality. Aria looked up from the poetry, Will from his coffee, at the door, through which they could see Blue’s retreating figure.
“Do you think he meant it, Aria?” Will asked quietly, “Can things ever go back to the way they used to be?”
Aria didn’t answer.
filler On the outside sidewalk, Blue unslung his beaten backpack and rummaged around in it. In a hidden pocket, he found what he was looking for. An old cell phone. It was untraceable, and piggybacked on the minutes of a random order of other cellphones. Blue flipped it open, selected the only number in the address book, and pressed the “talk” button.
“Yes?” The voice said. It was barely a question, the voice monotonic.
“I’ll do it.” Blue said.
“Wonderful, I’ll send the usual car over.”
filler Blue was hung up on, and in sixty seconds a cab pulled up in front of him. This unusual taxi was had a black outer coat of paint, and the pay meter’s numbers glowed green as Blue got in and greeted the driver fammilarly.
“The usual destination, Sir?” The driver asked, turned his young black face and startling green eyes to look at the teen in the back.
filler As he talked, the Taxi TV unit activated, displaying of charismatic male anchor and a peppy female one talking about today’s historic event that was fast approaching.
“Today, Maria Dines, the first female president of the United States of America will be inaugurated at noon today.” The female anchor announced with glee. Blue stared at the screen emotionlessly for a long moment until a picture of Maria Dines popped up. Blue paid it no mind except to form his hand into a pantomime gun, point it nonchalantly at the picture, and pull the trigger as he announced his destination.
“Not today, Virus. Today we’re going to Washington D.C.”
