smash_logs | 25th bloom; Like a Dragon

Entry tags:

25th bloom; Like a Dragon

Who: Char. Vinnie.
What: Shirtless(?) fighting.
Where: On a roof.
When: Jan 14.
Warnings: Violence, swearing, as many yakuza references as I can possibly manage.

After years of animosity beginning to erode, the Venusaur could almost say that he was coming to respect and understand Char as a person. Not a single moment of it had been easy, either - even once they were past throwing fists and insults at the sight of each other, the boundary between how much either of them was willing to give and take never stopped being uncertain. Slowly, that line began to grow more blurred over time. Vulnerabilities trickled through. Secret parts of themselves that they saw mirrored in the other's life. It was never comfortable, but there was an awkward, fragile, tentative sense of trust between them.

Little by little, they changed. They grew.

And somewhere along the way, it surprised Vinnie to recognize that somehow, Char had become important to him. That the Charizard had not only helped shape who he was, but gave him back something that he didn't realize he missed: his drive, his pride, that fiery independent streak that had always burned inside the Grass-Type. On top of that, it startled Vinnie to learn that he'd also began to truly value Char as a person. That he wanted his respect and maybe, just maybe even admired him a little.

Of course, that all went to hell once he started dating Bulba. In an instant, the spark left Char entirely, and Vinnie was just... ignored. No more fights, no more anything. Just a half-hearted reception of bland apathy. The Venusaur barely existed in his eyes anymore, and Char being Char, it kept going for over a year. It wasn't until both their frustrations were brought to a head by an innocuous sprig of mistletoe that everything exploded.

In the heat of the moment, words was said that couldn't be taken back.

Whatever they even were anymore, it was all brought to ruin in an instant. Vinnie knew that if he didn't fix this somehow... hell, could it even be fixed? Even if he wasn't sure, he still had to try. It wasn't simply a matter of having his rival back anymore, or being acknowledged. No, Vinnie had hurt someone who inexplicably, pain-stakingly had become an integral part of his life.

The question was how to undo such a mistake. This was a Charizard he was dealing with here. Mere words, at this point, were useless. And hollow gestures of apology were at best pathetic, at worst insulting. There was nothing he could offer that would appease the wounded Fire Type when he'd already been figuratively burned too many times before.

Days and nights passed, with Vinnie rolling the words he'd said over and over in his head in regret. How on earth was he supposed to get Char to understand what he actually meant to him? Sure, he was a hard person to respect on the outside, but that wasn't what he thought of him anymore. That was just cheesy, wasn't it - I didn't mean what I said. Still, it was true. Then again, maybe in the end it didn't even matter that Vinnie had changed. After all, who was he to demand anything when he used to blow off the Fire Type completely? Char wasn't obligated to forgive him, and he wasn't owed anything.

Whatever Vinnie wanted, he had to fight for.

That'd always been the way things were with them, wasn't it.

As a Grass-Type though, he still couldn't fully make the leap between his way of thinking and Char's. As much as they were similar, in many regards they were still polar opposites. There had only been one time that Vinnie really felt like he was on the same wavelength as his rival, and that was when he had a fire of his own.

Maybe... if the answer eluded him as a Venusaur, then the key was not to be a Venusaur anymore.

It was a bit of a drastic measure. In hindsight, maybe he should've consulted more people about this idea than... no one at all.

===

Steam rose from his nostrils in the brisk January air. If it was cold today, then Vinnie no longer felt its chill. His preparations had been utterly minimal - but then again, planning with any degree of foresight had completely fallen off his priorities. There was only one thing he wanted right now, and he could feel the need coursing hot in his blood. It left him blind to anything else.

His wing membrane was slightly less mangled than it was the last time, but Vinnie still wasn't in any state to fly - not that he even knew how - and trying to breathe fire brought little success outside a few weak embers. None of that mattered, though. He had a Persim Berry pocketed, and more importantly, he had his pride. Whatever happened today, he was going to see through.

With his dragon instincts reawakened, he walked himself up to the school roof, high enough to see any part of the campus. There was absolutely no way Char would back down from anyone laying a claim on his turf here. Vinnie parked himself dead center and shifted back into Pokemon form. Wings at full span, flame burning bright, neck stretched up towards the sky, he breathed deep and roared.

A challenge. Charizard to Charizard.

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Smoke rose from Vinnie's mouth as his head rolled back against the ground. It was with some alarm that he watched Char's hand approach his head, but when it was placed beside him rather than forcibly gripping his horns, the Charizard couldn't help but stare at it for one drawn out moment.

It was over. He knew it was over. But even still, Vinnie stubbornly didn't want it to be over. And he especially didn't want Char to be the one to tell him when it was over. Even though it hurt like hell to make any kind of facial expression, the dragon's slashed lip still curled in a weak snarl. With a low growl in his throat, Vinnie shifted back into human form, his body instantaneously shrinking underneath Char.

Humanoid legs were considerably more versatile than a dragon's hindquarters, and they were pretty much all he had left at this point. Trying to use the sudden anatomy shift to his advantage. Vinnie immediately tried to kick Char off of him. His body was battered, but there was still fight left in him.

The sudden shift in his perch was enough to tip Char's balance; the addition of Vinnie's feet under him toppled him loose, sending him shoulder-first into the snow next to Vinnie. The shocking cold of the snow against his battered skin was a numbing relief, but not one he dared to indulge in.

"For fuck's sake, give it up!" he hissed, hand meeting the ground again as he struggled to rise once more. The prodigious heat from two Charizards in full Blaze was reducing the snow underneath to slush, however, and he slipped, cursing vehemently under his breath. He was loath to show any sign of his limits, especially not when Vinnie was putting up such a persistent fight.

Char had been trained well enough to know the difference between a spar and an all-out fight, but for Charizards, the temptation to blur the lines always tugged fiercely. He could tell Vinnie was pushing himself way farther than he should, but Char was just as susceptible to that battle-hungry tendency; even if it might have been for their own good, he couldn't possibly look at pulling the plug on this as an option. Even now, electricity arced around his fingertips, eager to meet a counterattack from an opponent he wasn't entirely sure could even get up at all.

Vinnie squeezed his eyes shut and screamed at the sky, his voice strained with both rage and anguish. "SHUT UP!"

With a hiss of pain, he rolled over onto his paralyzed arm - fucking thing stung like every nerve was throbbing, but it was still better than reducing his ripped up arm to pulp - and tried get on his knees. No matter how pathetic it looked he had to get up again, even if it meant pushing himself up with his goddamn face.

"I'm not..." He grit his teeth as his forehead scraped against the ground, skin against asphalt through the thinning snow. With a laboured groan, Vinnie finally raised his head, but his eyes were still covered in wet flecks of slush and blood to see anything clearly. He could only vaguely make out Char's shape, but without a hand to wipe his face clear, he could only try to blink it away.

Yet he still growled, "I'm not done." Now he had to get to his feet. He pushed himself up on one, and then struggled to shift his full weight onto it in order to rise up on the second. Pouring his focus into completing this one task, his words were forced through gasps of heavy breathing. "Don't you... fucking... tell me I'm done... with you." The second knee slowly lifted off the ground. "Not when I... you..."

And that was when Vinnie slipped, and crashed into another inglorious heap. This was about all his tailflame could take. The Blaze sputtered out as he wheezed in blinding pain, teetering dangerously on the edge of unconsciousness.

The sparks crackling around his hands danced erratically, lacking the focus to form a consistent conduit. They danced feebly in the damp slush as Char pushed himself up onto his knees, watching the limp form near him.

He raised one hand, curled it into a fist. He could still do it, he was pretty sure. The rush of his Blaze, equal parts frenetic and focused, still pounded through his veins, and it wasn't as though a big part of him wanted to indulge in it wholeheartedly -- to immerse himself fully in those battle-starved instinct and keep going until Vinnie had no more protests in him. He ran his tongue over his teeth, the taste of copper thick and tempting in his mouth.

"Nah," he mumbled, eyes lingering on the ebb of Vinnie's tail flame. The sparks petered out to nothing as his fist dropped harmlessly into the slush. "You're done, Vin." A dragon could fight to the death, easily and eagerly, but the expectation of being a rival was that there would always be another fight to look forward to. No matter the itch in his fists or the hunger in his teeth, no matter where things stood between them, they'd always had that degree of safety in each other's hands -- if Vinnie refused to say when enough was enough, then it had to fall to him.

"Whatever you're tryin' to say, you don't gotta kill yourself sayin' it." His tail twitched hesitantly in the snow behind him, still wild with Blaze-hot temper, but wrenching itself toward a cooler, less hostile state as he looked over Vinnie's prone form.

Vinnie tried to spit out some of the blood that had pooled in his mouth, but it mostly became a feeble dribble. His wings wilted into the slush, and even his tail had become too heavy to lift. Try as he might, he couldn't move anything anymore. Any strength he had left was quickly draining out of his body as his injuries caught up with him, and the hotbloodedness was going with it. Even in the midst of the pain, his head felt strangely clearer.

Char's voice felt so far away right now. He was barely audible as Vinnie's brief, lucid spell teetered him over the edge.

This really had been stupid, hadn't it? But... he had wanted it so badly. And for that moment, caught up in the sweet thrill of finally fighting his rival, Vinnie had felt really alive. For all those years he spent trying to push himself back up and finding his strength again, he did it so he could be something for someone. But, despite how much he tried, his family didn't need him like that. They'd either become strong enough on their own, or they simply couldn't be saved with power alone. And seeing Red again gave no sense of accomplishment at all.

Being a rival for Char, though - it felt worth it. For all the grief and frustration and uncertainty and rage it brought him, Vinnie needed Char to know that he was worth it. And Vinnie desperately wanted to be worthy of it again.

He had no idea if that fight actually accomplished that at all, but in a way, he felt satisfied.

In a barely audible mumble, Vinnie uttered a faint, "I didn't mean it," before he passed out completely.

...Well, what now?

As quiet as those words were, they hung in the air long after Vinnie passed out. The silence and stillness following their fight seemed so much bigger when it came on the heels of that much heat and fury. Char was not the type to forgive and forget; as shameful as the vulnerability of a Lonely heart was, he could no more change his nature than stop being a fire-type. The best he could do was guard it with fierce and unforgiving walls. It was infintely easier to live life never saying sorry and believing that anyone who had proven willing to hurt him once would hurt him again. That goddamned vulnerability, on the other hand, took much more strength to wear.

But what was he going to do with Vinnie...?

...They really had overdone it. Vinnie was in much sorrier shape than the last time this had happened. This'd take more than the handful of potions lurking in the back of Char's bathroom cabinet. He dragged it out for a moment, but there was no point putting off what he already knew he was gonna end up doing: Char hauled himself into a sitting position next to Vinnie, looking away even if he knew Vinnie was totally conked out. "How come it's always my job to take care of your ass?" He groused, even if this had only happened all of maybe twice.

There was hesitance -- a little fear, even -- in his tail as it stretched through the slush, curling around Vinnie's limp tail and lifting it free of the growing puddle of melted, bloodied snow. Even if Vinnie was unconscious, it was still a daunting thought to bring him in direct contact once again with all the ravenous loneliness he'd seen under the mistletoe. Still, he only knew one way to coax flagging soul-flames, and it was by sharing fuel.

He looked away and squeezed his eyes shut, like he was afraid it might hurt, but still he let the fire on the end of his tail mingle with Vinnie's. Soul-flames weren't liars, and especially not in the moments that they burned as one. All of the things fuelling him were laid flat. All the desire for acknowledgement, all the regret, all the hurt that broken trust dragged in with it. The insecurity that had made their fight so bad in the first place and brought on his year of silence. The indefinable flutters of satisfaction when Vinnie's leaves had begun to return, when he'd first seen a tail flame that burned as brightly as he'd thought it would.

The satisfaction and contentment that sank in when a wildfire had burned itself out -- for all the complexity in their rivalry, it had been the kind of fight he lived for. He'd poured out everything he had against a worthy foe. No Charizard could walk away from that feeling regrets. All his touchiness and defensiveness may have boiled down to the hunger to just matter, not just as that annoying rival kid's Charmeleon or Bulba's brother or an immature snot who wouldn't let the past rest, but for the duration of that fight, it had been about nothing but the two of them, and that feeling still lingered bright and lantern-warm in his soul-flame.

He hadn't meant it either, Vinnie.

Edited 2015-03-15 05:18 (UTC)

A deep, soothing warmth slowly worked its way up Vinnie's body, traveling up the length of his spine until it reached every part of him. He was bathed in it, and even in the darkness, he could feel the glow beckoning him back. It was a strangely familiar feeling, but in a way he didn't expect to find reaching for him. He'd heard the songs of flowers before, voices that echoed into the core of him as part of a great, winding harmony. This, it was the same and different all at once. There were no other sounds, no unifying longing or larger picture - only two souls, burning together and baring themselves openly to each other.

Vinnie could feel all his hopes and fears flowing out of him as Char's bled into his consciousness, filling his heart with the other's innermost feelings. In turn, so much guilt and regret had been laid bare, all of it born in search of where he was supposed to belong, what he was supposed to do. Torn between obligations from every side, until all he felt was lost, never truly belonging. A deep-seated need to fill a purpose to someone, only to be broken down, unnecessary or futile, then slowly forgotten. The shame of falling so far, further than anyone. Trying to find meaning for himself in how much he could sacrifice for other people.

But slowly, a seed of pride had managed to take root again. Perceptions changing, the world changing with it - people that made up pieces of his heart that had always been there, always been important. Vinnie wanted to be stronger, but now he wanted to be a better person. To be a better rival to the person who had sparked his drive from dull embers back into a the flame it was meant to be. And then the sinking fear of putting it at risk by wanting to love someone, somewhere he knew he couldn't broach.

If Vinnie never respected Char, it wouldn't have hurt so much to be ignored. But he did - more than Vinnie himself had realized. Even if it had been hard, even if Char had been aggravating and contrary and confusing, he made Vinnie better. There was no one else that could mean the things Char meant to him: a rival to strive for, who matched him as an opposite and an equal, and set his hot blood aflame. No one else in the world could claim to do the same.

Blearily, Vinnie's eyes fluttered open, urged back into the waking world by the heat of their shared flame. His chest still laboured with every breath, and his entire face ached too much to form any words, so it was all he could really do to watch Char with a sense of quiet awe.

As embarrassing as it was bringing a soul into direct contact with another, the few times Char had done it, it had been hard to feel bad about it. It let him get a taste of things he maybe didn't have the right to feel, and let so much more of him be exposed and open, but a fire could only grow from being fed -- it took a lot of trust to share something so fragile, but the both of them were stronger from it. Even as he lent his heat to Vinnie, he could feel live-giving warmth slowly seeping up his spine.

He basked in it a moment, letting the apprehension ease away as the lines between what was him and what was Vinnie blurred. For just a short little while, all those years of struggling to figure him out fell away, leaving only understanding. ...It was surprising how easy it fit. Maybe it wasn't so much the tails as it was just acknowledging things he'd already learned, one hard-earned bit at a time. The thought was a little funny; he opened his eyes, a smile flashing across his face for an instant.

...Vinnie was looking at him.

Ah. Char went bright red and sharply looked away, smile reverting to a flustered look. It wasn't like seeing Char mingle soul-flames was new -- Vinnie had already seen him do it to Sasha all those years ago, when she lay battered in a Pokecenter bed -- but it was another thing entirely when Vinnie was the one he was mingling flames with. Unsure what to say about it, he rubbed uncomfortably at one eye. Flakes of dried blood came away on the back of his hand. ...Yeah, they were both still really rough-looking. As nice as it felt to be acknowledged and understood, all the flame-sharing in the world couldn't knit wounds.

With an aching sigh, Char shifted up into a kneel, pulling his tail away and sizing up how best to get all Vinnie's extra-limb-having bulk up onto his back again. Roll him over, then... hm, then again, piggyback? Nah, not with those arms. Princess carry, then. Great. Good. Fun and wonderful. "Lemme get you up. Let's see if Bulba decks you or me first for this."

Ah...

Vinnie was a dead man.

He could only groan weakly in response, with the grim acceptance of his impending doom in his bleary eyes. To his credit, at least he had left Bulba a note. Easier to ask for forgiveness than it was for permission. Unfortunately, scribbled in haste, all that note had said was: I think I just did something really, really stupid. Sorry in advance. So, probably that was not going to save his hide at all.

It wasn't like he was in any shape to protest, though - or do much of anything else other than try not to bleed too much, for that matter. But whatever else happened, Vinnie was left with a strange sense of certainty that he would be okay with it. Maybe it was that one, small smile he saw on Char's face that filled him with reassurance that he'd done the right thing for once. He fixed something. Stupidly, it gave Vinnie hope.

And what a hard-won smile that had been. Not just with this fight, either, but... with everything. All the things that had happened between them, both together and apart. Somehow, that smile felt like it was worth more than all the goddamn Pokemon championships in the world.

But was the victory worth his life. That was the true question, because they were walking towards death's door.

Truly, they would both perish.

The note that had been left for Bulba had done the exact opposite of what Vinnie hoped to achieve with it. Considering what had been written, it might have turned out better for him if he just hadn't said anything at all.

Two completely vague sentences were driving Bulba up a wall because what did they even mean. There were a lot of things that could be really, really stupid. Why were his piercings there? What was he doing WHAT WAS GOING ON.

There were so many missed calls on Vinnie's phone.

So when Char finally dragged Vinnie's ass to Bulba's, it only took one sluggish thump before the door was whipped open by one incredibly frazzled and agitated Venusaur. He blinked owlishly at his brother who was covered in blood ("Oh my god") and carrying some random Chari--

It was extremely easy to pinpoint the moment Bulba recognized the other Charizard because that was the moment Bulba punched him in the face.

"You jerk!"

Well, I mean... that definitely answered the "who gets decked first" question.

"Whoa, kid!" It was a small mercy, at least, was that Char did not drop Vinnie. (This was, admittedly, by kind of a narrow margin. Vinnie was both bigger and heavier than Char, and he wasn't exactly feeling like a wellspring of stamina by the time he'd finished up a thoroughly rough fight and all.) Still, he was somewhat hastily deposited on the nearest available surface. Bulba could finish murdering him there. This was not a crossfire he wanted to be caught in.

...Even if he was probably gonna get his share of it, too. Char had been sweating the whole way there, certainly, but not just because he was carrying like 200 pounds of floppy many-limbed dead weight. This was exactly the scenario he'd feared... though it was maybe not exactly the reaction he'd expected? That was clearly the punch of someone who knew this had been Vinnie's idea.

"What'd you say to him?" Char asked Vinnie, clearly bewildered by this course of events.

"He didn't say ANYTHING," Bulba fumed, throwing the note on the ground and waving his hands as he stomped off into his room. "That barely even counts!!"

Vinnie's dead carcass, now deposited on the RA's common room couch, could now add 'boyfriend-induced black eye' to his list of injuries.

"Unghhh..." Translation: Okay, I might have deserved that.

"Ngh." Maybe the note was a little too vague.

"Hnnn." My face really, really hurts right now.

He kind of just got swept up in the moment once he actually became a Charizard. Decisions all across the board may have been too rash.

Char, sorta kinda needing a breather after the fight and subsequent dragon-hauling, opted to sit on the floor by the couch, close enough to pick up the note that Bulba had tossed. One person bleeding on the RA furniture was probably more than enough.

...Huh. Who knew Vinnie had the capacity to be vague sometimes after all. Too bad it apparently only applied in situations that would send Bulba into maximum Mother Hen overdrive.

"Brought that one on yourself, dumbass." Truly, a wellspring of sympathy for the wounded here.

Meanwhile, there was the background sounds of (probably angry) shuffling as the blonde went about doing things in his room and then stomped back out to shuffle into the kitchenette. They could probably hear him grumbling as he went, accompanied by the sound of the fridge opening and closing. Grumble grumble.

When he came back into the common area, it was with a bucket under one arm and a big first aid kit on the other. They were both set a bit forcefully down on the coffee table and he glowered at the both of them. "I hope you're both pleased with yourselves," he continued to grumble, jabbing the first aid kit open and pulling out a few of the potions inside. The first one was for Vinnie, since he looked worse for wear, though it was administered more brusquely than it normally would. Someone was definitely in the dog house. (But there was notably a clothed bag of ice in a vine that was gently pressed on his punched eye.)

Bulba turned the majority of his attention to Char first though, grabbing another potion for him and crouching down beside him with a look that said he wasn't getting out of being taken care of.

Vinnie gave an involuntary hiss as he was treated to a potion straight in the eyes - again, deservedly. The dog house was palpable, and it stung like a motherfucker. As the abrasions and cuts on his face began to mend, the Charizard let out a low, apologetic murmur of guilt. "Sorry..."

And yet, with a mind of its own, the tip of his tail began to sway in a limp wag, back and forth. Oh sure, he still felt like an ass for making Bulba worry, but there was a part of him that just felt... happy. Persistently so, just by being near him. Even with the Venusaur was all agitated like this, Vinnie couldn't suppress the gladness of knowing he cared enough to be mad.

That thankfulness grew as the cold bag of ice numbed the lingering ache on his face. Ah...

"Look, you don't need to..." He knew he was protesting in vain, but still, protest he did. Getting out of being taken care of, to be honest, would have been kind of a nice thought. Without the shock of his cargo being shocked, he was starting to feel kind of squirmy. Not just because of the various contusions and lacerations, but because it was getting harder to pretend this wasn't exactly the kind of situation he'd been dreading being in for the past year.

And not even in the "Bulba's pissed" sense, per se. Tails were always the kind of thing you had to be dimly aware of, by virtue of the whole fire hazard thing, so the subtle flickering of light in the corner of his eye caught Char's notice. He glanced at Vinnie... oh, for chrissakes, what an absolute puppy. It was a good thing Bulba wasn't fully literate in the most subtle nuances of tail flames, because even if that thing had been keeping still, it was broadcasting some positively nauseating warmth.

Char, being Char, reached out and grabbed Vinnie's tail, giving it a sharp warning tug. Watch it, fucko.

"I'm thinkin' he'd maybe rather you two were alone right now," he pointed out to Bulba.

"Too bad for him," Bulba replied rather bluntly, despite whatever interest he had in the tail tugging that was going on. It wasn't given much heed though, as he had protests to completely ignore in favor of doling out the potions. Which he proceeded to do without asking if he could. (And less so in the eyes this time.)

It wasn't even a spiteful act either, though it might have looked like one. (Well, the eyes thing totally was.) They had talked about it before. When it came down to which one of them he would have patched up first, it came down to which of them showed up first. Bulba couldn't feel like he was choosing between them because there wasn't a choice to be made. He loved them both. This time, it had technically been Char that had shown up at his door.

Even if it had probably been to deposit a body and leave. But. Whatever.

He grabbed a wet towel from the bucket once the initial potions were done, wringing out as much of the warm water as he could. All this blood had to get wiped off before he could bandage him up.

"... So should I be stocking up on potions now or?"

Not expecting the sharp pull on his tail, Vinnie jolted with a barely suppressed yelp of alarm. "Shit!" What the hell?! The flame flared up for a second with irritation as he glared at Char with his one, un-icepacked eye.

At least, until the other Charizard made that remark about alone time. Even before it was quickly shot down, Vinnie shrunk down into the couch, cringing. His face turned a touch more red, as if anyone could really tell underneath all that drying blood. Yeah, alone time probably consisted of getting chewed out and punched some more. Looking forward to it. How romantic. So this was the 'older brother breathing down the boyfriend's neck' treatment he'd been missing. Ugh, karma.

It kinda felt like anything he said was just going to dig himself a deeper and deeper grave at this point though, so he was just going to make a grumbly noise that sounded vaguely like a hesitant 'maybe?'

A bit of a tricky question for Char, stubborn and proud as he was. He delayed it for a moment as Bulba fussed at his blood-crusted scalp, making all the unhappy complainy noises you'd expect at the feeling of water on his skin.

"Maybe for him," Char announced, being difficult and fussy and turning away from the towel. "But I ain't gonna need none next time. He only got me because he's got Outrage."

Which was at least, in that backhanded and roundabout way, acknowledgement that this would happen again. As unforgiving as Char could be, some roots were laid too deep to pull free, and there wasn't much point in pretending otherwise. The effervescent warmth of shared tails was still glowing down in his spine, after all.

"...If, y'know. If that's okay," he added, quietly and just a little bit awkwardly. This particular mess was a bit above and beyond a usual spar, after all, so it couldn't hurt to seek Bulba's reassurance.

There was a lot of mental eye rolling going on. He'd spent the day so wound up that now that his concerns had burst via punching, he was too frazzled to be as patient as he normally could have. He made the mental note to get twice as many potions next time he restocked. Maybe start new pecha and rawst bushes, since Outrage wasn't going to be something to worry about all the time.

His shoulders had sloped in visible relief, knowing that whatever (REALLY STUPID) plan that Vinnie (SHOULD HAVE TOLD HIM ABOUT) had had worked.

Figuring the amount of wiping he did would have to suffice, Bulba moved on to disinfecting and bandages.

"Of course it's okay." He had only said so oodles of times before. "It's sure taken the two of you long enough, geez... I'm just mad because you could have told me something." The last bit was directed more at Vinnie as Bulba finally looked in his direction again.

"...I kinda got caught up in the moment," muttered Vinnie, still avoiding eye contact while he stewed in his kicked puppy guilt. Asking Skull Kid to turn him into a Charizard had been a complete impulse decision, one he assumed would entail a bit more thought and consideration about how to proceed afterwards. But once he'd actually made the change, (after a few magical mishaps that would go unmentioned,) the plan sprung to life and beelined from thought to roaring on a rooftop almost instantaneously. Trying to explain it at all just made it seem so irrational, especially when the only logic at work was the fire in his blood.

Even if Bulba didnt' veto the idea, he still couldn't imagine him understanding the 'I need to challenge your brother to a rooftop fight so he understands how much I respect him by punching the shit out of him' mentality.

But there may have been the twitchings of a wag when Bulba consented to future punchings. It was pretty hard to contain the eagerness in his Charizard blood when presented with the prospect of fighting Char again. Please don't yank on his tail this time. Those weren't boyfriend thoughts.

Char, all truth be told, might have been the only one present who didn't think "I am a Charizard and need to punch something immediately" sounded especially ill thought out. Still, he wasn't especially inclined to speak up in Vinnie's defense. Them's the breaks, chum. He tilted his head back, letting Dr. Bulba do his Dr. Bulba thing, and once again his eyes wandered over to Vinnie. Once again, what an absolute puppy. Char quickly looked away -- even if the sappy lover-warmth wasn't in his flame so much, that little bit of wiggle was still all kinds of embarrassing. He curled his own tail around himself, where it wouldn't have the room to budge an inch.

"Shoulda had a little more trust in you, kid," he mumbled under his breath. He left off the "I," so Bulba was absolutely free to think he was talking about Vinnie, but to be entirely honest... it was kind of an all-parties-involved thing, wasn't it? He'd literally just been asking for reassurance for the hundredth or so time, never trusting Bulba to actually speak up when he was suffering. Same as he hadn't trusted Vinnie to see him as anything but Bulba's brother.

He winced a little at the sting of the disinfectant, but at least the water part was over with. "You got a right to be mad... but I'm glad I ain't the one you're mad at, all the same," he added. Nice to not be the one being a hasty ass for once!

While there was plenty he could have added to Char's mumblings, Bulba had held off on thinking on it. Doing so would have only made his mood gloomier, and he wouldn't have had anything good to say. So for the better of everyone involved, he didn't.

Instead, Bulba offered a dark chuckle as he applied bandages to what he could reach. "Refreshing, isn't it? I'd suggest making it a habit, it'd make my life easier."

As far as he could tell, he'd already taken care of the worst of Char's bang ups. There were still a lot of forming bruises, but there wasn't a heck of a lot more he could do besides spritz on some more cautionary potions to get him feeling up to snuff.

"There... just don't go swinging your head around, and that should do it."

"If it's gonna reduce the number of piss-awful decisions I make, then I can't make no promises," Char replied with a half-there little grin. It was, at the very least, hard for him to feel too gloomy when he was still warm from flame-sharing.

Enough so that he might even actually try taking Bulba's advice re: his dressed wounds. No promises on that front either, but someone had to take up the mantle of actual worst patient ever. He lowered his head to fuss at the bandages; the itchy, dried, flaking blood might have been gone, but the discomfort was gonna be around for a while longer.

Still, he was feeling about as good as he was gonna, thanks to Bulba's ministrations. "Your turn, wiggles," he announced to Vinnie and his embarrassing dumb puppy tail.

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25th bloom; Like a Dragon

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rip vinnie 1990-2015

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