chainsxwsmile – Siblings-a-Fixin'

chainsxwsmile:

@askthefwrp

The Repairman buckled over with laughter. Really now! Bruce, of all Toons, found dead? Oh, what a great April Fools paper! BRUCE! The strong, understanding, good-hearted Bruce! Oh, it was more than he could take!

That is, until he realized it was November.

He read through the article again, with considerably less humor. This WASN’T the joke he thought it was.

How…? Why…?

The inkblot shook his head in disbelief. This couldn’t be real! Surely he’d come around soon…right?

He quickly threw the rest of his cement at the Wall and packed his things. Paper in hand, he dashed towards the spot where the shark supposedly died.

It couldn’t be real, no matter how he sliced it. Only way HE knew of to axe off a Toon for good was…was…

He redoubled his speed, in a futile effort to get there before a mad Dip user did.

When he got to the scene, he saw nothing. There was no one, nothing, and no body.

Nothing but what looked like a tiny grey splotch on the ground.

The Repairman assumed the worst and broke down, sobbing into his newspaper. He shivered, and was clearly losing control over his form.

He would soon get back on with his job, but with considerably less enthusiasm for a while. Any onlookers would also wonder why this small blob was checking over his shoulder with such paranoia.

[[I hope this was okay; first time I dipped my toe into angsty territory.]]

For the next 24 Hours, my Muse is dead: Come into my inbox or submit drabbles in response to this: hearing the news, watching them die, visiting their grave, etc.

Well, damn, that’s just depressing D: Poor lil’ guy! Thanks for the submission!

“Nah, I think I’ve got it under control, as far as directions’re concerned,” Bruce said with a shrug. “But thanks. Now ye take care ‘f yerself, aye?” the great white asked. “No more gettin’ stuck in giant robots, at least not without me there to help ye,” he added with a chuckle.

“All right,” he shrugged. The 80’s weren’t too hard to find, anyhow.

He laughed with Bruce, saying, “Yeah, I’ll try. Good luck!”

“Huh, sorta like ‘ow I was once, eh?” Bruce asked, giving a gentle chuckle as he arched a brow at the repairman. “So, I take it ye ‘ave somewhere to be, eh? Someone else kickin’ down the fourth wall somewhere else?” the shark inquired, glancing at the light glared brightly.

“Yeah…” he sighed, looking back at Bruce. He did need to get back to work. But still…

“You need directions before I go?” he asked. It was the least he could do.

“The 80s? Ye mean there ain’t any more recent edutainment Toons? At least, anythin’ that’s still bein’ viewed by people these days?” Bruce asked, wondering if traveling through some battle-robot ridden grounds was worth the effort. People still had televisions; surely there were humans out there willing to learn important issues.

“Oh, there are,” the Repairman replied. “I just know of more from then than from now.”

As he adjusted his grip on his cart, he continued, “I think the newer ones just live in their worlds, and don’t talk directly to viewers as often.” His eyes went up to his siren light. “At least, that’s my guess.”

“Edutaintment?” the great white asked, arching a brow before his realization of the word’s origin swept over him, and he let out a partially amused snort. “Right… Well, I certainly ‘ope so. As far as news goes, it ain’t gettin’ any better. Lots ‘f species ‘ave been added to the endangered list, and fishin’ ‘asn’t dropped ‘nough for ‘em to recovery anytime soon.”

“Well,” the Repairman said, “if you want to talk to them, I think several of them are in that 80’s area.” He tapped his siren light knowingly. “PSAs were all the rage back then, you know.”

Thinking about it, he continued: “Just be careful; there were a LOT of battle robots at that time. Other than that, you should be able to tell the group after a quick ‘not what it seems’ moment.”

“I’ve… lived through some ‘f that,” Bruce said, gesturing mildly to a scarred indent on his left side; a puncture wound, be it from a harpoon or spear. “Researched other things. Asked ‘round. Once I realized what I was, I found that m’ sources could go b’yond just other sharks…” The great white sighed. “And it turned out worse than I imagined.”

“Oh,” the Repairman nodded, grimly. He didn’t have much reference for death, but what little he did have was enough to know what that meant.

“Well,” he asked, after a moment, “I hear some of the older ‘edutainment’ Toons are getting together to work on issues…over there.” He looked back at Bruce. “You think they could help?”

“I dunno,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “Finnin’s still up and runnin’, goin’ full speed and causin’ every other shark species to go extinct. Commercial fisheries remain widely unmanaged, don’t get me started on by-catch,” the shark rambled, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Why was I created as a creature humans hate so much?” the shark asked, brows knit before Bruce gave a final huff of despair, pectoral fins drooping low.

The Repairman hesitated. This was more or less the first time he’d heard about this issue. Granted, he didn’t pay attention to the other side of the Wall a whole lot, but even so, this was a big problem to miss.

“I don’t know how you know all that,” he admitted, “and I don’t know how the other side works, but…I’m sorry to hear about all that.”

“Is it b’cause the human ‘ave more time to see the movies? Just… still gettin’ used to my existence bein’ made simply for the entertainment ‘f humans…” Bruce said, giving a long sigh. “I mean, it’s hard. I was built to please humans and they treat my species like…expendable resources. Killin’ us for sport…”

“Yeah,” the Repairman sympathetically replied, “Don’t know why Toons aren’t always told anymore…”

As Bruce sighed and continued, the inkblot stopped and looked at him in surprise. He had heard of Toons feeling exploited before, but not because of their “real-life” counterparts. He began to fidget as he considered this.

Finally, he replied, tentatively, “I…guess it would be hard…”

Feeling like he needed more than that, he continued, hopefully, “Maybe…you’ve improved…the image…?”

“Maybe b’cause ‘f the newcomers?” Bruce asked glancing about before squeezing himself through the opened hole. After some manageable amount of effort, the shark got his midsection through and his tail followed shortly. “I mean, I’ve seen signs for new Toons comin’ to Toontown.”

“Eh,” the Repairman shrugged, “those signs have been around forever. But you’re right; there do seem to be a lot more signs and a lot more Toons each summer.”

He waited patiently for Bruce to get through. Big characters getting through small spaces was nothing new to the inkblot. Still, he couldn’t help a slight feeling of disappointment when the shark got out without a “pop.” He shook off that feeling rather quickly and pushed his cart out into the sunlight.