towerofanimus | 9th pokéball [closed]

Entry tags:

9th pokéball [closed]

Characters: John Egbert and Dave Strider, both of the Pokémon variety
Setting: meadow first then the mirror maze
Format: prose
Summary: John decides to test one of the rumors he heard and drags Dave along because that's what best friends are for.
Warnings: They're both going to die but not in a particularly gruesome fashion

When the writing first started to appear on the wall, John thought it was pretty fucking weird. But what was even weirder was the fact that he actully found himself believing what he read. Though...then again, poisonous plants in the cafeteria food could be a legitimate concern. Especially with all the flowers in the food this month. The tower being attacked by a whale though? Now that's just silly.

And yet he believed it. Worse yet, upon seeing that some people had been changing the rumors, he had decided to be a part of the moment as well. Rubber chickens were far more harmless (and also funnier) than a giant flying whale, right? This basically made him a prankstery hero...except for the part where he'd accidentally almost made it worse. And the cut down his right forearm dangerous giant chickens are attacking the tower. wasn't letting him forget that any time soon. If he had known about that particular side effect, he might not have raised his pen so quickly. In any case, he hadn't tried changing any rumors since that day. In fact, he had spent two days trying NOT to look at the walls.

That had worked well until one caught his eye on the 21st floor as he made his way down towards the library. Reflections in mirrors are living, separate entities? Haha what? Yeah sure, ok-- no he totally believes it. Though instead of filling him with a sense of foreboding, all it does is make John curious. Probably because there's nothing innately sinister about the way the rumor is worded. Sure, they could be murderous reflections, but they could just as easily be funny copycats or something. He's getting kind of bored of his retrieval unit so why not head up to the mirror maze and knock out two birds with one stone? He can test the rumor AND pull his usual clone stunt with Michael J. to send his unit trailing after the wrong John.

Turning around, John heads back up the way he just came and heads for the forty-ninth floor. He stops on the twenty-fifth instead. Because he'd either managed to miss Dave on his way down or the other boy had only just arrived at one of his usual haunts. But whatever the case, surely Dave would want to check this out too, right? But instead of acting like a normal human being and approaching Dave to ask him to come along, John stays on the stairs and shouts at him."

"Hey, Dave!! Stop whatever it is you're doing, I just read something that we totally have to go check out. For science or something, get your dumb butt over here!"

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Just as Dave moves towards him is when Reflection John begins to stir and make an attempt to get up. Granted, it's a slow one. It's probably a good thing that John aimed for the doppelganger's face first. He looks up just in time to see Dave's blade coming for his face, a face now made predominantly of splintered glass.

Half of his face has caved in upon itself, leaving nothing but jagged edges around what was formerly jawbone and cheek. There's nothing inside it. The other half is a fine webworking of cracks, a few small chunks missing here and there but still mostly identifiable as a face of something vaguely human. In light of the impact, his glasses flew off, shattering entirely after landing on the floor several feet away. All in all, his face would be almost completely unrecognizable as John's, were it not for the single, horror-struck, brilliantly blue eye staring down the blade rushing for his head.

What's left of his mouth opens, but the reflection doesn't have a chance to get any words out before his head is run through with another loud shattering.

One down.

"Alright, Dave!" The cheer is a brief one as John moves to cover his best friend, ready to send his hammer in the direction of ~~Pinky~~ the remaining doppelganger whenever he gets himself reoriented enough to move into swinging range again.

That one blue eye will haunt Dave. He's already seen it before on older John's face as he made the very same motion and ended his life. But there's something new to add to his nightmares. Reflection Dave's desperate cry as he tried to get to his friend in time. Dave takes his time pulling his sword free of the remains while the other circles.

The reflection looks at the both of them is raw hate now. Like his flesh bound counterpart the moment there's something he feels needs righted, all other things are secondary. His blade flicks once, twice. Then he charges at Dave, but it's a feint. He's actually going for John and pouring on all the speed he has.

Take what's his? He'll take yours.

The blade in his hands is sure and steady. The ribs, he'll strike there, up and through the back if he gets in range. It will all depend on that hammer. And how fast the son of bitch with the other sword is.

Dave is moving but it's all on John this time.

Edited 2013-06-12 08:34 (UTC)

It's something that will haunt them both, to be honest. Or at least it will once John has enough time to think back on it, because his mind is completely focused on something else entirely at the moment. These two might be psychotic and evil but... they're still them. They're still best friends.

And they just killed one of them while the other watched.

But there's no time to dwell on that. Reflection Dave is charging and John knows the bastard way outstrips him in the speed department. No contest there. But he hasn't spent the past three months training for nothing. Itachi didn't spend weeks teaching him how to focus just for John to fail against a shitty doppelganger. He has one shot here. If he can dodge and get behind the reflection, he's got it. But if he doesn't... well he's not thinking about that. That's just a distraction. The single thought in John's mind right now is to dodge left and strike hard at whatever he can.

Dodge left. Strike hard.

Dodge left. Strike hard.

Dodge le--

John fails to dodge. Just as he went to move, something completely unexpected but totally welcome happened instead. For the first time in over two years, John managed to access the powers that have lain dormant inside him. Instead of a dodge and a strike, gale force winds whip up around him in a miniature tornado. He has no idea how he managed it, but he's not letting himself break his focus to question it now.

This is both a good and a bad thing.

While Dave is close enough to John to be mostly safe, one wrong move could send him flying like his doppelganger if he's not careful. Probably best for him to move closer to John and the eye of the storm and watch that that cape doesn't get caught. Don't let the common heroic cape downfall be your own, Dave.

Two things happen when it all goes to hell and the wind springs up. Dave reaches his best friend, putting him within the eye of the storm. The wind lashes, smashing the reflection back. Knock backs had been a common, vicious tactic of Bro Strider. The man was built like a tiger and with enough speed to make you regret ever being born. He manages to stay upright, spreading his feet farther apart to let the force send him sliding back. He smashes into a wall with enough force to knock the air from what lungs he has.

But it hasn't shaken him. He just doesn't care about things like that anymore. He wants to break the rules and show the bastards what a time knight can do when they're enraged. But he can't.

Not until the other one does it first and from the grim expression on Dave's face he won't. Throwing his sword wouldn't work. The wind is too strong. He prowls the edges of it. His shades had been knocked off his face. There's no escaping the promise of murder in his red eyes and the pain.

It will live with Dave forever the grief in his counter part's eyes. Neither of them know how to cry. It's not something they figured out how to do. The reflection looks on the verge of it. As if he's figured out the trigger.

Dave doesn't envy him. He shifts at John's side, coming up on his toes and balances himself so the moment the wind comes down, he can spring out to meet the mirror him.

He'll put him out of his misery.

Though the combination of better focus and being in a life or death situation was enough to bring forth John's abilities, neither of these things is nearly enough to give him any sort of control over them. He's unable to direct the storm as he wishes, and the winds begin to die down as suddenly as they sprang up after merely a minute.

John falters, slightly off balance as the tornado unwinds. Though he manages to stay on his feet, but he's not at all balanced correctly to spring forward and go for the attack like he had initially planned. Balance and speed were never really his thing, John's all raw power and stamina. But luckily he has Dave to cover that particular deficiency. Even if the reflection gets the jump on them, however, John should be back on balance enough to at least block the strike. Hopefully, at least.

Both Daves burst into motion at the same time, racing towards their targets like streaks of red in a colorless world. They come together in a ringing clash of steel. The real Dave's sword strokes are slowly than his counterpart, something the reflection snarls with triumph and takes advantage of.

It's a trap. Dave's next strike goes faster than the last, and the two are locked in a game of speed. Each strike blocked or parried by the other as their speed steadily increases turning the obvious clash of steel into a silver sheen in the air between them. The reflection grins, too wide. He is expecting Dave to tap time but he forgot Dave is his opposite. Instead of rejecting Bro's teachings, he embraced them. He doesn't see Dave leaving a gap in his defenses for what it really is, and commits to the strike.

Dave flash-steps using the momentum of moving towards the floor to circle around and smashes him in the back hard enough to drive the breath from his double. The other fighter stumbles forward, coughing and off balance. Dave looks to John, checking on him. You okay, Bro?

John makes an attempt to follow the Strider Showdown with his eyes, but to him it's little more than flashes of red and silver, accompanied by assorted clangs and clinks of metal meeting metal. Completely pointless to try and follow, so instead he focuses on completely regaining his balance, tightening his grip on Fear No Anvil and preparing to spring if needed, his eyes locked on the blur that he can't distinguish as two people.

And then, it's over... with only one slight issue.

At a moment's glance, John can't tell which Dave is his Dave. Sure, he assumed that his would be the one to come out on top because he's awesome and basically the best and he's not going to lose to some shitty doppelganger. But just in case something went wrong, John begins running towards them, hammer raised. He'll figure it out as he goes.

One breath, two breaths, three, four... no crazy smile on the victorious Dave? Check.

That's his.

He knew Wonderland Dave wasn't going to win this. John doesn't stop moving though, even with identities confirmed. He just locks his eyes on his Dave's for a moment, hoping that the other can tell that who John's intended target is. If Dave hasn't landed the finishing blow, he's totally willing and ready to. He just needs a signal, bro.

The reflection can't gather his breath fast enough. Dave had hit him with all the speed and momentum he'd gathered from creating an opportunity. He sucks in a breath and watches John coming with a resigned bitterness in his eyes. Of course. It would play out just like this. The whole thing was inevitable and he ducks his head so he doesn't have to see his best friend's likeness finish him off.

Dave, the real one, breathes hard as he gathers himself but nods to John. Finish it.

It's over.

Edited 2013-06-17 23:08 (UTC)

Of course this was inevitable. John couldn't let Dave have all the mirror smashing fun to himself. Though...admittedly there is something a little unnerving about killing something with his best bro's face. Though, then again, if it's not really alive... is this really murder?

This isn't the same as actually killing Dave, he decides as his hammer makes a hard connection with the doppelganger's face. Not at all. The fact that he can actually bring himself to do it is proof enough of that.

And with that swing, it really is over. Done.

Suck it, mirror rumor and batshit reflections. You've been bested.

It's a little weird to see your best bro, kill someone with your face. Dave doesn't think too hard on it as he crosses the distance between him and John to grab for his arm. "Let's go. I don't care what else is going on-"

The sound of clapping comes from the mirrors, a cacophony of sound like an audience applauding for actors on stage. He slowly turns his head as an army of his reflections step from the mirrors while clapping their hands. Their faces are still, impassive and unreadable, the gait they choose measured like the seconds ticking away. They are not the raging and wild boy that he just faced.

They are time. They are cold and unfeeling as the day is long. Each of them draw their swords at the same time, but don't move just yet. Dave swallows.

Why are they all moving? It was just the one pair before!

John doesn't even get a chance to agree and get the fuck out of there. He's still trembling from the adrenaline rush of the fight and once the clapping starts, he jumps a few inches in the air, startled. He turns his head away from the exit just in time to see about twenty of his own doppelgangers emerge from the mirrors. They're grinning from ear to ear, hammers hefted over their shoulders and maintaining a safe distance from the only two humans in the room.

"But... why?"

That's really all he can manage in this situation. Face-to-face with the previously mentioned 'veritable army of Johns and Daves' all John can do is wonder why the hell they didn't do this sooner. Why didn't they all rush them from the get go? They easily could have taken them out.

But one look into those grinning faces pretty much tells him the reason. They were toying with them. And judging how one of them just leaned out of a mirror behind Dave to grab hold of his forearm with hands like ice, they still are. Apparently the John doppelgängers don't really feel like doing a whole lot of fighting, but rather try this same stupid trick until it works. Come on Dave, come with Reflection John.

Dave curses and reverses his sword stabbing back at the person behind him who grabbed for his arm. Like hell he's going to-

His reflections are there before he can finish the motion, calmly attacking while he's distracted. He can't parry, he can't jerk to the side. Swords pierce through his flesh and punch out the back. The floor is stained with red as they step back, slowly drawing their weapons out. It's a simple concept. If he'd too busy trying to revive, he can't escape them or help John escape.

His shades hit the floor, skidding away and one kicks them aside, to grab his chin and shove him back. There's enough of gap between his captors and John to show the cynical defeat on his face and his attempt to mouth for John to run.

RUN. While they're distracted with him.

Go.

John's blood run colds as crimson splatters the floor and shades clatter across the room. He knows death means little to god tiers, that Dave will spring right back up from this in a matter of moments, but even so... that's his best friend's blood. And seeing it spilled like that? Always terrible, no matter the circumstances.

But that pales in comparison to the look Dave fixes John with shortly after. John knows that look, and it numbs his limbs completely for a moment. He saw it on his own face (or well...alternate self, but technicalities) not even two months ago, and it's a look he never wanted to see directed at him ever again. Even if he wanted to run, he definitely couldn't now. If he runs, Dave's death will stick. Because sacrificing yourself for your best friend is kind of pretty damn heroic, numb nuts. If he stays, he can buy Dave a little time to respawn and they can take out these jokers together. And more importantly, run. They can survive this if they play their cards right, John is positive.

So instead of running, he grits his teeth and raises his hammer again, bringing it down hard through one of the Dave's faces and his own reflection's arm. Gotta get Dave freed first, regroup and fight back second. John flies into a controlled frenzy, smashing as many of the reflections holding down Dave as he can, dodging any swords aimed his way as need be. The months he's spent training show more than ever now. I mean, fuck, he doesn't even need his Pokemon for this! He's got this! They're totally going to--

John comes to an abrupt halt as his feet are literally pulled out from beneath him by one of his own doppelgängers from behind. John falls flat onto his chest, wind knocked out of him as he's unable to break his fall. He lets go of his hammer as his reflection drags him across the floor by both ankles, headed towards one of the innumerable mirrors that comprise the maze.

When John's world stops spinning, he begins clawing at the floor and kicking his legs wildly against his captor. But it's to no avail. The two are mere feet away from the closest mirror and unless John can pull off another Deus ex Windy Thing, he's obviously not getting out of this one.

Everything slows to a crawl. Though the haze of pain, Dave watches John come alive, swinging his hammer left and right. The arms holding him crack and break, and he falls to the floor, into his pooling blood. He barely manages to land on his knees instead of his face.

"This was pointless." He mutters as the world goes cold and dark.

Death. He's died several times before now. Each time it feels like he's running in slow motion and trying to catch something he can't even see that's far away. Each death in the game had been fast. The agony of it punching through him before nothingness had him. His doubles had been precise. He'd counted the number of swords and fatal blows. It's surprising he lasted as long as he did.

The problem however, with his revival will be clear in a moment.

As the pendulum swings somewhere far away, colored light sweeps into the room, swirling through his blood on the floor and bathing the ceiling in light.

Tick.

Tock.

Is this death heroic?

Is it just?

There's a resounding crash as he rises up, blood and the energy encompassing his body flaring to crimson. He breathes in, sucking in his first breath and vanishes, appearing to smash a kick into reflection John's knee. Something crunches and he stands over John, blade raised and wrapped in temporal power.

The white blade held high, he looks like a knight that descended from the hills to defend his king.

The reflections all laugh as the temporal power of the knight is reflected in then.

Too late, Dave realizes what is going on. They're on him in seconds, the first time aided elbow strike sending him stumbling to the side. He tries to call up time, use it in his own defense but it's a bit difficult with a sword bursting through his back and out his chest. He grits his teeth, his knees giving way. The sword withdraws and he falls forward, blond hair stained red and more blood painting the ground. One of the temporal knights steps over to John and starts dragging him again. Another looks to the reflections of John motioning to the fallen Dave.

John doesn't have time to admire Dave's completely and utterly heroic moment, which is a shame. Because goddamn, that was swoon-worthy, Mister Knight. Your Heir would be totally floored if either of them had time for that.

Perhaps once they make it out of here.

John scrambles for his hammer, crawling across the floor and reaching for that red-black-and-orange handle, only to have his hand fall just short of it as he's dragged the other way once more. John twists this way and that, feet resuming their kicking as he tries to escape again. It's about as useful against DoppelDave as it was against DoppelJohn.

Two reflection Johns take hold of the real Dave, apparently they aren't taking any chances this time. They're going to get both of these stupid kids at once, this has gone on long enough. Each one of them grabs Dave under an arm and pulls him across the floor in the opposite direction of John towards a completely different mirror.

Dave is unable to resist as he bleeds out. He leaves a trail of red as they drag him away from John. He's conscious long enough to curse before his head falls back. His body feels cold, the pain and agony starting to ebb away. Before he dies for a second time, another reflection Dave appears and slides his sword into Dave's chest and out the back.

He leaves it there.

Dave's life leaves him.

Striders don't rise after that specific blow. None of them do.

The dooplegangerDave gets tired of John trying to fight him and motions to another. They appear with their left feet pulled back, aiming for a rib strike. Yeah, that's going to hurt.

Thud.

It definitely hurts, especially given that John's still smarting from his earlier chest-first tumble to the floor. And it gets them what they want, as John stops struggling for a bit. Makign it all too easy for the Daves to make some serious headway on getting him to that mirror.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, the Johns have reached a mirror with Dave. This kid's done for, but just to be sure that he doesn't pull something weird again, he's coming inside. They each put a leg through the glass, pulling Dave up and over the frame of the mirror and into the now rippling reflective surface.

And this is when John looks up, his lungs and side on fire from the fall and the kick, breath coming in sharp intakes. "Dave..." it's quiet at first, but his voice doesn't stay that way, soon he's yelling despite the pain. "Dave, get up man! Dave!! I'm sorry! You have to stay with me, don't give up! GET UP DAVE, PLEASE! DAVE!!!" The urgency in his voice breaks and gives way to desperation about halfway through. They aren't going to make it out of this. Dave's already halfway through the looking glass, and it's two monsters with his own face dragging him there.

And he himself probably isn't far behind, he's too weak to struggle anymore.

It's over, or at least it soon will be.

The reflections gather John up, sliding their arms under his armpits and half carry him towards a mirror. They roll their eyes at John's desperation. Give it up already. It was inevitable. God.

There's a flare of colored light again from Dave, time winding around him as he's pulled back from death. The world is on fire, when consciousness comes back to him. There's steel through his chest and every muscle and nerve strains to resume functioning but his blood can't pump. His head snaps back, body bent like a bow and silently grits his teeth.

He tries to claw back to reality. He reaches for the hilt protruding from his chest. He doesn't make it. His head falls back for the last time, hands going limp. Another pointless death.

One doppleganger Dave offers his fist to a doppleJohn. See, what did they tell you? The stupid bastard won't rise again.

Edited 2013-06-18 05:18 (UTC)

For a single moment, John is utterly ecstatic to see that rainbow light. All that screaming wasn't in vain and this is totally a friendship moment ripped straight from the mangas and everything is going to be Okay. Only it's not, because that sword never stopped being a thing, did it? His elation turns to horror as he watches his best friend die yet again while he's completely unable to do anything about it.

There's something sobering about it, really. To realize that at the end, all his hard work still hadn't really been able to make the difference he desired. Yeah, they managed to take out quite a few doppelgängers; and yes, he managed to survive much longer than he would have had this happened four months ago... but in the end, they're both going to die. Not even going to, but rather are. They ARE dying, right this very second even.

John's reflection returns the fistbump just as the real Dave's feet disappear into the mirror. Oh he definitely won't be coming back, trapped as he is and unable to revive. The Knight is dead, his Time was up!

Which only leaves... the Heir.

Who has, despite everything that's been done to him so far... is putting up a fight again. He doesn't really expect to escape at this point. With multiple Daves bringing him to the mirror now and his own Dave gone, his own death is pretty much inevitable. But that doesn't mean he has to make it easy on them, nor does he have to be particularly graceful about it. Take him if you want, but so long as he's conscious: he'll be going to the other side thrashing and screaming the whole way.

They deal with his thrashing and screaming like an adult handles a toddler having a fit. Their patience with it seems to be a statement about the inevitable. The pair holding his arms squeeze tighter as they pull his head and shoulders through the mirror. It ripples just as another burst of light slams against the inside of the mirror Dave disappeared into. They don't look up. The Knight is done.

Another reflection pads over to snag John's kicking feet with a steel grip. No chances taken. It's death for these two. The light in the other mirror dies again. How many times will he try to rise before he dies completely? Hard to say.

Not that they care. It's tiresome to see him try in vain to survive. It's like watching a small bird fluttering in the jaws of a predator. It's always over so quickly.

They get John up to his waist and this time the light doesn't return. From that mirror another reflection Dave just holds up his bloody sword.

They nod, their grueling task not yet done. Scream all you want. No one is coming to your rescue this time.

And scream John does. Mostly a loud "DAVE!!" at the sight of the reflection holding the bloodied sword from across the room. There was another flash of light, right? So he's back. He's alive again. And with the sword out of him, this time he won't die immediately again.

Right?

Even with his feet basically bound, John continues to thrash wildly. It's not doing him a bit of good and he knows it. At this point, he's really only doing it out of a sense of stubbornness. Even if it's futile, John Egbert DOES NOT give up. So long as his heart still beats and his brain remains conscious, he will not go quietly to his death.

Even halfway through the mirror, John keeps yelling for his best friend. He's not sure if he can even be heard through the glass. But again: he's kind of a stubborn jackass.

By this point, every thrash and yell is pointless. The doubles of Dave put up with it, might as well. Their prey is doomed just like the black mirror the knight was confined in. This time no light appears.

They carry John into the mirror, his feet finally within the confines of the mirrow realm. It's a flat, featureless world with a black sky and reflective ground. The temperature is mild but, that doesn't make it stop feeling uncomfortable and wrong. John doesn't belong here. One can feel it in their bones and heart.

As the reflections move forward, they draw their blades in one hand. It's the end, John.

Once he's all the way through, John's shouting loses a bit of its fire and volume. Not because he's finally caving and giving in or anything like that, but rather out of the sheer wrongness of the realm he's now entered. His body begins to go limp in the Daves arms, his already racing heart begins to feel as though it's going to explode and his skin is crawling with goosebumps.

Eventually, he stops shouting entirely, falling silent for the first time since Dave was killed. His breathing is ragged and harsh, from a combination of the adrenaline rush of battle wearing off and the mirror world's effects on him. But when he looks up to face the drawn swords, there's still a gleam of what can only be defiance in John's eyes. Defiance mixed with rage, both with an intensity that's not altogether expected of John. His hands, which had been curled into fists during his struggle, are finally beginning to unclench. Or rather...two very specific fingers are.

That's all John has to say to the Daves, apparently. Do your worst.

A reflection of Dave approaches, carrying the lifeless body of the original. His head is tipped back, blood still fresh and trickling sluggish from the corners of his mouth. Riga mortis hasn't set in, his body sways with each step of the double. It dumps the body beside John with a heavy thud. A long winding trail of red stretches back into the distance.

In death, Dave's usually neutral expression has smoothed into something unreadable. It makes him look like the child he really is. While John is possibly distracted by the body of his departed friend, the swords raise and come down like a fall of arrows.

Good night, John Egbert.

Possibly distracted? Make that definitely distracted. The moment he hears the thud of what can only be a body next to him, John's stern gaze breaks, shifting from the reflections to the real body. All signs of anger and defiance disappear from his face, replaced with a broken sort of pained sadness.

He wants to reach out, to touch Dave, to shake him until he comes back to life because goddammit you can't actually be dead you asshole. Hot tears prickle at the corner of John's eyes and a knot forms in in his throat, preventing all the words he wants to say right now from escaping. There was nothing heroic about this, nothing just... so why won't you rise up, you prick? He gets it, okay? He knows this was all his fault and if you're trying to make him feel guiltier by playing dead on the floor then save it!

Because John is absolutely certain that he will ever feel more guilty in his life than he does at this very moment.

Luckily, the moment is cut somewhat short as John's torso becomes intimately familiar with the Mirror Daves' swords. John's eyes go wide, still locked on his best friend's fallen body, as he coughs up blood. He's stunned but not dead just yet.

That won't last long though. And at least this one won't be popping back up.

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