smash_logs | So You Think You're Turning Into a Chayzard: An Instructive Guide for Proper Living as a Burn Lizard

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So You Think You're Turning Into a Chayzard: An Instructive Guide for Proper Living as a Burn Lizard

Who: Max and... probably some other charizards
What: Max is turning into some sort of fireman lizard
Where: Max's Forge and Sundry Other Locations
When: June 29th and beyond
Warnings: Swears. Lots of swears. Violence. Some (Lots of?) violence.

Persons wishing to interact with one (1) Maxizard are welcome to do so once he's finished blossoming into a new man.

Other Persons Turning Into Chayzards Are Welcome To Use This Post As Well. We'll get together a regular Conflagration of Charizards (Is that the collective noun? It seems as if it should be.).

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"I tried that once; you didn't take it," said Max bitterly, remembering that time outside of Char's apartment.

But Max was supposed to have learned humility as well. And he stamped the indignation down again.

"But if that's what you want now," he said, his voice strained, pushing himself up. "That's what you're gonna get."

He slid off of Char's back, and sat in seiza, as he was taught in crazy feudal Yellow Comet country. And waited.

"Didn't say I was gonna take it," Char replied. He sat up, neck straight and head tilted up, either in an attempt to deal with that nosebleed or because he was doing his best to look down on Max despite Max being larger than most mountains. He wanted to drive the point home that he was not entitled to Char's forgiveness: that even if Max sat all uncomfortably, even if he said please and lowered his head, even if he was in a position where he needed help, there was still the very real -- and in fact, highly likely -- possibility that he would still get nothing from Char, because taking the full brunt of Maxizard's ugliness did not mean Char was responsible for teaching Maxizard how to keep that ugly side under control.

But then again, this was Max, so Char, in his hardhearted, bitter way, did not remain especially optimistic that this point would reach him.

"What exactly are you expectin' from me, Max?"

Max looked down at the ground in front of him intently.

"I am afraid of myself," said Max, to the floor. "I know bein' a charizard don't change who I am. It just... amplifies parts of me I already got in me. Me bein' angry, me bein' violent, me bein' me... I got it in me already. The charizard part just aggravates it. I ain't better than you. I'm worse. I'm scared that at any minute I'll snap and hurt somebody I care about again."

Max continued to stare at the grass. Inside of him, he really, really, wanted to not be staring at the grass, on his knees, with Char... sort of... looming over him.

"What I did to you's one of my biggest failures. I need you to be there to tell me if I'm losin' my shit. Because I remember that. It reminds me that I'm not king of the world. And because you, more than anybody else, know what I'm like when I lost control. And if I lose control over myself, and you can't get me back under control, I want you to go find slowpoke or some other water type, and take me down, and keep me knocked out until this is over. I need you to take me out. If Blast was still here I'd ask him but he ain't. I don't know who else to ask. Vinnie? Hell, I can't ask him, he burns easy. That Marie kid? He ain't got the drive inside to do it. Sonny? Sonny's got no edge. Sasha? I don't know what to do with her anymore. I can't think of nobody but you, and you're the one that my bein' here is hardest on."

Was Max sort of crying? He was sort of crying hot, terrible tears. "I'm gonna try to keep it under control, I promise. Work at the forge, keep myself busy, usin' the fire inside to not ruin everybody's life."

"I don't expect you to be my friend. I need an enforcer. That's what I expect." He ground his hands into fists at his sides. "That's what I'm askin' for."

Char did not want to help Max.

There it was, plain and simple. He lacked the mercy to be anyone's crutch, and he lacked the softheartedness to help someone who had hurt him purely for altruism's sake. Max was not the only Charizard running around this week: if Char was going to invest his time in another dragon this week, then he intended to spend it on bonding with his trainer in a way he normally never would be able to. That was not something he was especially willing to put aside.

At the same time, he did have to be realistic. As much as he resented the general consensus that being a Charizard was Awful and Scary and doing Charizard things was Even More So, there were suddenly a whole lot of males on the turf he dearly wanted to call his. Clashing was going to be inevitable without a clearly established head dragon that was capable of keeping everyone in line. Max might have had the sheer musclepower to call himself top dog, but he was very clearly not in any state to handle the prospect of dragon diplomacy gracefully.

"Let's be real, Max. I can't be hangin' over your shoulder every second. That wouldn't be no different than what I was doin' when you left your little love-mark on me. You use other dragons to make you wanna get better, but it ain't their job to make you better. A boy needs someone to tell him when he's bein' bad. A man knows."

Char rose to his feet, lumbering over to Max. "I'll stick my neck out if I happen to be around, but it's selfish as hell to expect me to drop everything and save you from yourself. Here, gimme your arm."

"Yeah," said Max, glumly, blinking his eyes and doing his best to pretend that the water that had been leaking from his eyes wasn't there. "I know. And I don't want you next to me the entire time. And I think I'm gonna do better this time. I know I am. I got to. But I just. I just want you to know that I ain't gonna fuck you over. I promise. But if I try to, I'm pretty sure if I go over the deep end, you're gonna be one of the first to feel it. Just do whatever it takes to stop me from doin' it. That's all I want."

Max held his comically large (and comically douchebag-tattooed) arm out at the charizard. "But I swear, I won't start nothin' to hurt nobody this time."

Char took Max's comically large arm in one scaly hand, holding it steady. On his other hand, he curled in two of his three fingers ~~and flipped Max the bird~~, shuffling over so he could lay the point of his claw on the many pounds of beef lurking just below the shoulder -- the same spot that'd been picked out for his tattoo, way back when all this first went down.

He was completely aware that one hand alone was not strong enough to keep Max in place if Max did not want to stay in place. One effortless tug would be all that was required to pull it free and probably javelin-toss Char over the nearest set of mountains. That, he supposed, was sort of the point: he could not do this unless Max decided to allow him to do it.

Char paused, looking over to Max's red watery crying eyes, claw-point resting on top of that douchebag tattoo clusterfuck, waiting for a sign to either back off or proceed.

The thought did pass through Max's mind to grab Char and flip him over his backwards so that Char's head would meet the ground in fun and interesting ways.

It was a passing thought, only. Max squashed it down into the pit of soul where it had come from originally.

"It's a shitty sense of style charizard me's got," Max said.

What. Was that a 'go ahead' or was that just a statement of fact? Well, he's just sitting there, anyway.

Char did not deny this.

When Char did not get javelin-tossed over any mountains, he applied pressure, the point of his claw sinking into solid ultra-muscled flesh, and began to move. The meticulously-done intricate patterns of Max's douchebag tattoos got rudely disrupted by a single diagonal cut.

"I can't be there every second, so I'm leavin' you a reminder." He didn't stop with one scratch -- five lines, in a much-cruder mimicry of the Orange Star mark that Max had left on Char a year ago. Char had no interest in trying to pressure Max into a tattoo of his own, or in trying to carve deep enough to leave a permanent scar -- there might have been an important lesson to learn from the first time Maxizard had been a thing, but putting that mistake on display for the rest of Max's life wasn't up his alley. An ordinary boo-boo, however, would probably last for as long as Maxizard 2.0 did. These transformations didn't stick for long.

"Right now, you're a Charizard. That means you're itchin' to compete, push yourself, fight. I get it. Just remember the motive's what matters. You ain't untouchable. We ain't just all here to make you look good. That drive's about strivin' to be better than you are. Not better than me, not better than whoever the hell else."

Once finished, instead of bending his big swanlike neck over Max's arm, he leaned in, so that he could bend his big swanlike neck over Max's face. What he had already said was important, but what he was going to say was twice as important. "Do not forget that. You ain't the male Charizard around here this week, and I ain't just talkin' me. Green's a dragon too. You made a pretty fuckin' clear statement about the hierarchy when you went and branded his Charizard under his nose last time, so this time, I do not fuckin' want any more peckin' order shit from you. Cross the line with me all you want, but if you cross the line with him, I'll show you fury like I ain't never had before. You'll have to snap my fuckin' neck to get me off your back. We clear?"

Max felt the claw on his shoulder (his delts, bro. bro, his delts were getting trashed, bro! bro!!!!!) and the slow welt of blood that arose from the just-deep-enough scratches. He had grimaced and tensed up as Char did it, his tail flame flaring up a bit, because even though he was forcing himself to be compliant, there was a great desire to not be compliant. He took deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down as Char spoke to him about Charizard duties.

"We're clear. That's what I'm gonna do. Better me, not just keep everybody else worse'n me," replied Max, looking directly at Burnington McSwanneck's face, after Char had basically told Max about his funtimes feelgood reaction to the prospect of Max taking Green down to Ye Olde Vincent von Vinesaur's Tattoo Parlour. "But, uh. Last time I spoke with Green was after the last time I was a charizard. You were there. He and I cross paths, uh. Listen, you get the urge to knock some heads around, I get the urge to...," he left 'break your wings like little twigs for being disobedient' out of what he was saying about himself, "Green gets the urge to knock my head around 'cause I was a dick... I can't promise I ain't gonna defend myself if Green comes at me, lookin' to start somethin'. I just won't be the one to start it, and I'll hold back as much as I can," said Max. "No grabbin' him by the horns and postin' pictures on the internet or permanent marks or nothin'."

Char's tail slapped the ground behind him. It would be a lie to pretend he didn't have an overprotective streak; the thought of Max causing Green even the smallest hint of discomfort would have made him instantly want to step in even if he did trust Max. He wasn't really super wild about the idea of a fight between the two in the least.

At the same time, he also believed completely and utterly that nobody in the world was as fearless or resilient as Green. This was the guy who was right there beside his Pokemon throwing punches during the Aparoid War. The guy who'd chase his punk-ass Charmeleon across regions. Even if Green couldn't beat Max in a brawl, Char steadfastly believed that Green still wouldn't be defeated. Especially not with a Charizard's fire burning inside him: clashes like those were just an inevitable part of how their kind sorted things out. If there was something that Green needed to tackle, then Char wouldn't be doing him any favours by trying to coddle him.

He still did not look especially happy about the situation, but Char straightened up. "Just don't do anything you'll be ashamed of in a week;s time. S'all I'm askin' of you."

Don't forget that this guy was right next to you punching Aparoids to death with his bare hands the same time Green was. Remember the machamp that Max bludgeoned into a paste with a parking meter? Yeah, good times.

"I ain't gonna," said Max. "But I'm just warnin' you about the possibility, is all. Now, can I stand up? It's harder to sit like this when I got a tree-trunk comin' outta my ass."

Oh Max, such a wordsmith.

Yeah Max whatever. Not as cool as Green. God, Green was just the coolest.

"Hm... nah," said Char, turning away to go leave and maybe clean up his bloody-ass snout. "You can go ahead and stay like that a while." Okay, Char, thank you for that.

Just go ahead and start making out with him already; you know you want to.

It was probably a good thing that Char had turned away, because the look that crossed Max's face after he told him to just stay like that for awhile was... unpleasant.

It was a good thing that charizards did not possess the ability to shoot beams of fire from their eyes; Max might have accidentally set Char's stupid back aflame.

He squashed the feeling down. Way down. Like a lump of coal being turned into a brilliant diamond somewhere behind all of his glorious abs. He was going to take it and make it something amazing.

The look of rage had passed, but it was replaced with an intense stare of intensity.

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So You Think You're Turning Into a Chayzard: An Instructive Guide for Proper Living as a Burn Lizard

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