大和田紋土 (
butterbelieveamanspromise) wrote in
smash_logs2014-03-08 09:33 pm
Entry tags:
THAT A HEART'S A HEART AND WE DO WHAT WE CAN
Who: Mondo and Jock
What: OH NO WHY ARE YOU SAD
When: Backdated toooo oh let's say the 2nd of March.
Where: Outside on school grounds.
Theme song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GbDRzqI4YhE
When you let internal struggles stay... well, internal, they start to eat you up inside. Mondo didn't want to talk about his problems with just anyone. He didn't know how to bring them to light, want to cause concern, let his heart drip all out of his sleeves and make him feel exposed. He'd been avoiding his friends more than usual anyway. Another part of him craved an outlet. Usually he'd resort to venting his frustrations by physical means, whether it be coming to blows with someone or working with his hands or letting speed and the sound of a furious engine placate his nerves. They never confronted his problems at the source, though, and by ignoring them in favor of distractions, they never got sorted. They remained an ethereal substance that haunted him everywhere. It was a human outlet, then, that he sorely needed.
But sometimes, he found himself deeply rooted in his private vexations. For a guy who steered away from thinking too hard about things, it wasn't like he was incapable of swimming through complex thoughts. It just... felt like he was drowning in them. With the solitude of nothing but the lawn expanding out on all sides of him, it was easy to let his despondency express itself. It wasn't much of an expression, just sad, sad eyes and a deep frown aimed at the ground as a particularly distressing thought clamped down and pulled him under.
What he didn't know was that a possible human outlet was somewhere nearby. And it wasn't just a human outlet, but probably something far more effective at healing torn up hearts.
What: OH NO WHY ARE YOU SAD
When: Backdated toooo oh let's say the 2nd of March.
Where: Outside on school grounds.
Theme song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GbDRzqI4YhE
When you let internal struggles stay... well, internal, they start to eat you up inside. Mondo didn't want to talk about his problems with just anyone. He didn't know how to bring them to light, want to cause concern, let his heart drip all out of his sleeves and make him feel exposed. He'd been avoiding his friends more than usual anyway. Another part of him craved an outlet. Usually he'd resort to venting his frustrations by physical means, whether it be coming to blows with someone or working with his hands or letting speed and the sound of a furious engine placate his nerves. They never confronted his problems at the source, though, and by ignoring them in favor of distractions, they never got sorted. They remained an ethereal substance that haunted him everywhere. It was a human outlet, then, that he sorely needed.
But sometimes, he found himself deeply rooted in his private vexations. For a guy who steered away from thinking too hard about things, it wasn't like he was incapable of swimming through complex thoughts. It just... felt like he was drowning in them. With the solitude of nothing but the lawn expanding out on all sides of him, it was easy to let his despondency express itself. It wasn't much of an expression, just sad, sad eyes and a deep frown aimed at the ground as a particularly distressing thought clamped down and pulled him under.
What he didn't know was that a possible human outlet was somewhere nearby. And it wasn't just a human outlet, but probably something far more effective at healing torn up hearts.

no subject
O... O Mondono subject
"Hi, Mondo!" said the cheerful doge-man. "How are you?"
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"So-so, I guess." He took his eye contact away.
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Oh no, Mondo!
"Mondo you look sad," said Jock bluntly. "Are you sure you're so-so? You look sad. Do you need a hug?" Jock is shuffling over with his arms held out, ready to hug you. It's in his nature (well, his nature is Rash, and I suppose hugging Oowada Mondo is a rash act) to want to keep everyone happy.
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There was a strangled quality pushing at the back of his throat. Like there was a whole lot of anguish restrained beneath the surface of his voice.
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Still feeling touchy, Mondo trod off and left it up to Jock whether he wanted to follow his slow pace or not. "So what? I swear all the fucking time. Get used to it already."
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Jock followed after Mondo, because Mondo was clearly upset and Jock Needed To Do Something About It.
"Yeah, you swear all the time, but not at me. You just swear. But not at me. What's wrong, Mondo? Why are you so angry? Did I do something to make you angry at me? What did I do?" Do you see those wibbly puppy eyes looking at you? Do you? Can you feel their intense gaze? Can you?
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"Nothing! I'm not angry, but I will be if you don't knock it off with all these goddamn questions!"
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There's a poof behind you and suddenly there's not a man, but a giant dog, who comes up behind you and you are suddenly buried in fluff as he sticks his head down on your shoulder.
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Oh no. Jock turned into his Arcanine self. What was he trying to do here? Was he 'shutting up'? It almost seemed like he was trying to find some other way to confront the problem that was him. One he was better at expressing, like switching to a native language or something.
Mondo wiped his mouth against his sleeve and heaved a breath. More calmly, he asked, "What is it now?"
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He allowed traces of his innermost emotions to emerge from the flimsy seal his standoffish attitude had been creating. Placing both hands around his muzzle, he moved his fingers through the thick fur surrounding his cheeks as a way to acknowledge that Jock had been right all along about him not being 'fine'. "...It's been a rough month."
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Come, lay your troubles on his fluffy shoulders.
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He put his big-old nose down on Mondo's cheek and let him feel the warm Arcanine breath. Let the fuzzy warmth of a giant fire dog make you feel better, Mondo. Just let Jock know.
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He took a moment to swallow a lump in his throat. "So I'm paying the price." He buried his face completely into the fuzz and tightened his arms around his neck. "I lost someone close to me..."
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He took a moment to squeeze a few silent sobs out, shaking his head a few times against his fur and not letting go. With an even smaller voice, he admitted, "Jock, I fake bein' strong all the time. I make myself look bigger than I really am. You know that, right? Inside, I'm real small..."
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Jock whines to let you know that he feels for you and he wants you to feel less awful. "It's the fire on the inside that counts," said Jock. "Not what you've got on the outside. Even when I was a little Growlithe I could beat gym leaders. You just... you just have to make yourself better every day. You have to find somebody to help you be better every day."
It would probably be more sympathetic if Mondo understood what Jock was saying, but the nuzzling of Jock's giant furry head on Mondo's dumb, corn-shaped noggin would have to do.
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"I promised my big bro at the ghost carnival that I'd be a better man than him someday, but fuck, I'm no better than I was before! He's probably lookin' down on me and shaking his head... It's tough, figuring out what parts of you need fixing. Tougher than I imagined..."
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He might have gotten indignant about the surprise, offer a verbal complaint or two, but he did not. Instead, he sunk back down against him and the soft, inviting warmth. There was probably no dog in the world more comfortable to snuggle against than this one. It was so much easier to surrender to this comfort than wallow in emotional exhaustion. He drew his breath and closed his eyes.
"No matter how much time passes, I'll never stop regretting what I've done. I know that... But I wanna be able to look back someday and feel like I've grown from my mistakes. I got a second shot at living. I gotta use it right."
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"You can do it," growled Jock. "I know you can do it."
He wagged his giant, fluffy tail over Mondo so that he would be extra warm, and yawned. Oh goodness, what a sleepy afternoon time this was.
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He'd be more embarrassed by his paroxysm of blubbering if it were in front of anyone else. Jock wasn't judging his show of vulnerability. He was letting him know it was going to be okay, even if it didn't feel like it was. Confiding in him was a lot like the times he was alone with Chuck, and felt free to just ramble about whatever was eating him at the time, even though he couldn't understand. He understood where it counted, and so did Jock.
"Man, thanks for hearing me out. I think I might've needed that," he said with a yawn of his own.
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For now, that would have to be enough.